#There are many characters and some are related some are not

[whumpetywhumpwhump]

Maisie's guide to disguised AI

If you've been anywhere near AO3 recently, you've probably encountered AI writing at some point. As somebody who writes for, primarily, the ER fandom (and occasionally the Pitt, too), I've noticed a concerning trend over the last few days: AI-generated fanfiction clogging the tags.

Firstly, I'd like to say that if you ARE posting fics on AO3 that were AI-generated, and you're passing them off as your own, please stop. I know this is not likely to actually resonate with you if this IS you, but on the off-chance that you do see this- please use tags as intended and make it clear that you're using AI.

Secondly, before I go into some AI tells in detail, I want to preface this with a warning- just because you see one or two of these in a fic, there's no guarantee that it was AI-generated. Please approach the matter of flagging fics with care, because the last thing I want is to incite a witch hunt against innocent people just engaging in fandom.

However, when seen in tandem, these signs should act as a warning to think a little more deeply about what you're reading, and ask the question- was this human written?

1. Em-dashes

I'm getting this one out of the way quickly because it's something easily identifiable, but it should by no means discredit a fic on its own. Real people can use em-dashes, but ChatGPT uses them a LOT. Like, a distracting amount. And they're often used in conjunction with...

2. 'Not' qualifiers

ChatGPT doesn't do 'yes, and'. It seems to work off 'no, but' instead (sorry @pagingdoctorcarter , like an AI, I am stealing your phrase here. But I do have the decency to credit, I suppose!).

Take this sentence I've come up with right now:

Carter was so exhausted he was struggling to stand, legs trembling with the strain of keeping him upright.

AI might write something like this (using my own creative license here because I don't want to feed the beast):

Carter was exhausted— not the regular exhaustion that came with twelve hours on his feet. Something deeper. Heavier.

3. Repetitive phrases.

AI is not original, so it can't come up with anything original, of course. This means that it relies on basic phrases it uses over and over and over again e.g 'the kind of (blank) that (blank)'

4. The classic 'concrete noun' + 'abstract noun' combo

For reasons that I can't quite understand, AI adores this. Some humans include this combo in their work, too, but AI does it even more frequently. Some real phrases I've encountered so far include:

"a story about meatballs and betrayal"

"champagne and anxiety soaked into the upholstery"

5. Anachronisms and inaccuracies

This is especially present in a fandom like ER, where most of the time we're writing about the 90s, and this CAN be attributed to genuine human error... but if Carter is repeatedly 'swiping' on his phone screen to open a call, and everyone's always texting... could be AI.

In a similar vein, if someone is shouting 'code blue!' for things that AREN'T cardiac arrest, or mixing up names and even hallucinating random characters- think 'maybe AI'.

6. Short sentences, short paragraphs, short chapters.

AI doesn't have the ability to understand how paragraphs are structured for ease of reading and flow. So it likes short sentences. Snappy sentences.

And not just when the situation suits it. But always.

If there's a hell of a lot of paragraphs, it could be AI. AI doesn't like including many clauses. At all.

7. Generic similes and phrases that don't mean anything at all

This relates to the 'concrete noun + abstract noun combo' but, more generally, AI produces writing that veers away from specifics. It won't often describe places in too much detail, and when it comes to similes, it uses simple, overused ones OR spouts a series of words that are meaningless. If you see an abstract simile in a fic, take a second. Is it abstract because it's complex and has several layers, or is it utterly meaningless?

8. A crazy update schedule

This one is less reliable because it IS possible to bank chapters and then post a lot in one go, but if an author is posting many thousands of words in the span of a few days, consider this a small red flag- especially in conjunction with the other things mentioned. It could mean they're just pumping out AI-generated writing, and this allows them to move far quicker than any human.

9. Overly mushy dialogue

AI is a thief, but it's a happy-go-lucky thief. Characters speak like they stepped straight off Sesame Street at times, lacking any kind of emotional complexity.

10. Awful, awful jokes

AI cannot write jokes. It simply cannot. If you read a joke in a fic that feels Disney-Channel esque but also doesn't make sense at all? It very well could be AI.

For instance:

Nobody talks like this.

Also, note the 'concrete noun + abstract noun' combo again here! (This actually was an AI fic as confirmed by author before deletion, not naming them here): 'gauze and intuition'.

Conclusion

Be vigilant. Don't fall for AI crap and, if you disagree with the concept of AI work clogging AO3 tags, definitely don't leave kudos.

And if you're posting this stuff, yet again I ask you politely, please STOP.

Thank you.

[enjakey]

THE CERTAIN ROMANCE OF WINGS AND WAR

Teaser (5.4k)

Chapter 1 coming out June 30th 2025 (send an ask or comment to be added to taglist)

PAIRING: [DAD!JAKE SIM x FEM!READER]!MAFIA AU

TW/N: Mafia au | soulmates au | angel/devil wings au | childhood best friends au | frenemies au | I didn’t know I loved you until I lost you | eloping/running away | family friends au | found family au | cheating, blood, drugs, mentions of sex, alcohol, lots of cussing, mentions of murder, guns, therapy, trauma, abandoning children, adoption care, estranged families, physical abuse, anger issues, characters make terrible decisions, some characters have sexual relations but not romantic, mentions of a lot of fucking each other over (betrayal), can't trust anyone.

SUMMARY: in a world where people grow wings when they fall in love, Jake believed he’d found his perfect match- until the woman he trusted vanished, leaving betrayal in her wake and revealing love as merely a tactic in her game. He was head of his powerful mafia family, Jake leads alongside Sunghoon, with Jungwon and Niki as his loyal muscle, and remains tied legacy to Y/N’s family, co-founders of their criminal empire. But their seemingly unshakable world collapses when Jake’s misplaced trust ignites a hidden war, culminating in the death of a close member- a loss that fractures alliances and leaves scars stretching across cities and time. And amid the chaos, Jake is left raising his daughter alone.

When Jake stepped into the bar, the humid press of bodies and the sharp bite of spilled alcohol closed around him like a vice, choking off his breath. The room pulsed with music and neon lights, a kaleidoscope of movement and color that only deepened the gnawing dread twisting through his gut. It felt as though a heavy shadow was perched atop his shoulders, pressing him forward even as every instinct screamed for him to turn back. Somewhere among these wooden tables, beneath the golden glow of overhead lamps and the sweet, acidic tang of whiskey, his reckoning waited for him.

He paused near the threshold, scanning the crowd with eyes that burned from too many sleepless nights. He searched for familiar figures- the lean frame of Sunghoon, who usually hovered near the poker tables; Niki’s mess of hair that bobbed and swayed in time with the dance floor’s rhythm; or the sight of Jungwon, head bent over a pool cue as his hair fell over dark, watchful eyes. But the faces around him were all strangers, laughing into their drinks, pressing close in the low haze of music and cigarette smoke.

A dull throb started in Jake’s temples as he forced himself deeper into the bar, past sticky tabletops and the bitter scent of stale beer. His senses were on high alert, each step deliberate, as if crossing a battlefield rather than a room meant for celebration. Yet even amid the chaos, one smell anchored him- the faint, comforting waft of his favorite beer drifting from somewhere ahead. He knew instantly where his brothers and friends were waiting for him. And the laughter rolling out from that dark corner- sharp, mocking- sliced right through him.

The sound was familiar, once a melody that meant belonging. But now, it made his stomach turn. Because a year ago, Jake would have slipped into that circle without a second thought. He would have poured his own drink, fired back his own biting jokes, and felt utterly at home. But tonight, he felt like an intruder approaching his own execution.

He moved toward the booth, shoulders squared, his hands buried deep into the pockets of his trench coat, fingers curled into fists as if he could hold himself together through sheer will.

It was Y/N who spotted him first.

Her eyes caught the shifting lights, glinting like shards of amber glass. For a fleeting instant, a softness sparked across her face, as though she was genuinely glad to see him- but it vanished in a blink, replaced by a slow, sharp smirk that curled the corners of her lips. Jake felt something squeeze painfully in his chest at the sight. Once, that smile had meant secrets and inside jokes. Now it promised war.

And he knew, with bone-deep certainty, that this night would not end well.

He braced himself.

“There you are!” Y/N crowed, voice bright as she threw both arms into the air, one hand wrapped tightly around the neck of a whiskey bottle. Her hair spilled across her shoulders in waves, dark as spilled ink under the neon glow. Jake winced at the sight of the bottle, at the telltale flush in her cheeks. Normally, he’d have scolded her, reminded her to slow down, to take care. But tonight, he didn’t say a word. He merely inclined his head, acknowledging her and the group with a curt nod, as the others greeted him in low, disjointed murmurs.

Jay sat close to Y/N, one arm slung protectively around his half-sister’s shoulders. His eyes were sharp, tracking Jake’s every move like a hawk waiting to strike or intervene- depending on how the night turned. The delicate gold pattern on his dark wings shimmering in the pulsing lights as he shifted

In the world they lived in, love left its mark not only on hearts but on bodies. When two people fell in love, they grew wings- a pair of white for one partner, and black for the other. Nobody seemed entirely certain what the colors signified- purity and darkness, perhaps, or simply a cosmic balance of opposites- but Jake knew one thing for certain- in his world, most men, himself included, ended up sprouting black wings.

But then there were the rare lovers, the fated pairs everyone secretly envied- soulmates whose wings blossomed not in plain color, but threaded with intricate veins and swirls of gold. Like a constellation woven into feathers, the gold marked them as a bond beyond ordinary love- a connection said to transcend lifetimes, anchored in something divine.

Jay and his wife, Chelsea, were one of those rare pairs.

It was such an extraordinary occurrence that local news outlets had practically camped outside the gates of their compound, desperate to run feature stories about the gold-winged couple. Tabloid headlines speculated about how their wings must look in flight, if the golden glow was visible even in the dark. Paparazzi tried snapping photos at impossible angles, eager to sell proof of their shimmering wings to gossip magazines.

But Jay and Chelsea refused it all.

They declined every interview, every offer for a glossy magazine spread, choosing instead to keep their story private. They belonged to a mob family, after all, and the risks were far too high. Gold wings didn’t just mark love- they painted a target on your back for rival factions eager to exploit your weakness or your happiness.

Jay and Chelsea’s story was almost storybook-perfect. They’d met in college, enrolled in the same economics class. From the very first day, there was a magnetic pull between them- lingering glances across the lecture hall, shared laughter over coffee outside the library. During a crowded house party one October night, their fingers brushed while reaching for the same beer bottle, and that tiny touch seemed to seal their fate. Within a week, they woke up to find gold beginning to shimmer along the curve of their shoulder blades. By the end of the month, full wings had unfurled, bearing matching golden markings so unique it was like they shared the same fingerprint.

In every sense, Jay and Chelsea were perfect. They moved in quiet synchronicity, understood each other’s moods with a glance, and made even the darkest parts of mob life seem manageable. To watch them was to glimpse something miraculous.

Yet even in a world where love could quite literally sprout wings, obsession bred bitterness. People broke off relationships simply because their wings came out plain white or black, unable to accept the absence of gold. There were forums online dedicated to decoding every tiny speck of color in new wings, hopeful posts from strangers praying their black feathers might still glow gold one day. Some lovers lingered together in misery, waiting for the gold that never came.

Jake had always thought that was foolish. A pair of wings didn’t dictate love- or so he’d told himself, especially after meeting Emily. When he fell for her, his own wings grew in black, feathered and sleek, the color of midnight oil. Hers were white, pale as frost. No hint of gold ever came, no divine stamp of soulmate-hood.

And Jake told himself it didn’t matter.

Even as he caught himself glancing enviously at Jay and Chelsea sometimes, watching the soft glint of gold move beneath their shirts as they laughed together, he clung to the belief that love didn’t need wings to prove itself.

But deep down, a quiet fear curled inside his ribs, whispering that maybe, just maybe, it did.

Jake’s eyes swept the rest of the booth. Sunghoon, perched beside Jay, rolled his eyes the moment their gazes met. He raised his beer in a silent toast- or maybe a warning- and shoved an empty chair out with his foot, the legs scraping a rough protest against the sticky floor. Jake hesitated for a fraction of a second before sinking into the seat, feeling every pair of eyes weigh down on him.

It wasn’t awkward silence that followed. It was anticipation. Like the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for the first crack to appear in the fragile facade holding all of them together.

But Jake’s attention snagged on Jungwon, who sat small and drawn beside Y/N. His hair hung forward like a curtain as he stared down into a tall glass of orange cocktail that trembled slightly in his grasp. His lips hovered near the rim but never touched it. A spear of protectiveness shot through Jake’s chest. He wanted to reach over, tilt Jungwon’s chin up, and ask if he’d remembered his meds tonight. But his throat closed around the words before they could escape.

And then he saw Niki. His brother leaned back against the cracked vinyl of the booth, eyes ringed in red and blown wide from whatever he’d taken earlier. A bruise split the delicate skin of his lower lip, purple blooming like ink beneath pale skin. Jake felt his own jaw tighten, heat pulsing up the sides of his neck. He wanted to demand who’d hurt his brother, he wanted to hit someone for leaving that mark. But even now, he held himself in check.

Because tonight wasn’t just about bruises. Tonight was about all the wounds they’d been pretending not to see.

“You’re like an hour late, bro,” Niki drawled, one eyebrow arched high, his grin a wicked crescent as he leaned closer over the table. His eyes were wide, expectant, as though daring his brother to tell the truth for once in his life.

Jungwon and Sunghoon both cringed, almost in sync, at Niki’s tone.

Jay and Y/N shared a quick glance, a silent communication honed over years. It was the kind of look that said brace yourself- because everyone knew what was about to unfold.

Jake’s jaw tightened visibly as he curled his fingers into the wood grain of the table, ignoring the sharp sting as his healing cuts stretched and split. His eyes turned flinty as they landed on Niki, staring him up and down like he was trying to calculate just how much trouble his little brother was ready to cause.

“I was running some errands,” Jake said finally, rolling his eyes, the lie slipping off his tongue as smoothly as air. He swept his gaze around the table, daring anyone to challenge him.

He was desperate to hold on to some shred of control, even as the walls pressed in closer around him.

“You’re lying,” Y/N cut in sharply, her voice slicing through the noise of the bar like a blade. It wasn’t even an accusation- it was simply the truth stated aloud, the truth Jake had no intention of admitting.

Jake’s first instinct was to snap back, to warn her to watch her mouth, to stay in her lane and not start a fight tonight. But the words never made it past his teeth. He didn’t have the right anymore- not after everything.

Besides, Jay was already leaning in to whisper in Y/N’s ear, murmuring for her not to push things too far. Y/N only shook her head, exhaling as though his caution exhausted her. Jay chuckled, though his gaze shifted back to Jake, dark and assessing. It was a look that made Jake’s stomach twist because it told him exactly how thoroughly he was seen. Then Jay’s mouth tilted into a smirk, and Y/N clicked her tongue against her teeth. Jake knew then there was no escape.

Y/N had always taken pleasure in pushing his buttons. It was practically a sport to her- one she’d perfected over years of knowing exactly where to press and how hard. She’d drag him right to the edge until something ugly burst out of him, and not even Jay’s gentle hands on her shoulders could ever fully hold her back.

She’d grown up around Jake. She knew every scar, every soft spot, every secret shame, and she wasn’t afraid to wield that knowledge like a weapon.

Once, they’d screamed at each other across rooms, volleying insults that could make grown men flinch. Jake used to warn her to drop it, used to hiss for her to shut up. But tonight, he didn’t even try.

Tonight was different.

Because tonight, Jake knew he deserved every blow she was about to land. He knew he’d fucked up. And there was a part of him that almost wanted her to say it all out loud, so he could stop carrying it in silence.

“One thing,” he heard her say in his memory, her voice cool and trembling with rage. “I asked you for one fucking thing. And you still did it.”

“You know I know Dad was with you, right? And so was Emily?” Niki interjected suddenly, his grin wicked and sharp, his eyes flicking between Jake and Sunghoon like a cat toying with a trapped bird.

Sunghoon flinched, surprise flashing over his face. His eyes flew wide, but he stayed silent, gripping his beer bottle tight enough that the glass creaked. He knew Jake needed to hear whatever was coming next- even if it ripped him open.

“I don’t get why you need to lie to us all the time,” Y/N chimed in, shaking her head, hair tumbling over her shoulders. She pursed her lips, the last traces of compassion draining out of her expression as she noticed Jake’s white-knuckled fist clenched against the table. “Want a drink?” She asked lightly, tilting her head, her eyes sparkling with false innocence. It was almost comical how gentle her tone was, considering she was about to skin him alive.

“Thanks,” Jake muttered, his voice rough, as Y/N slid Jay’s beer across the table toward him. He caught it just before it tipped off the edge, feeling the cold condensation bleeding into his heated palm.

“Now tell me,” Y/N continued, leaning back slightly, her whiskey swirling amber in the low light as Jay waved a waiter over for another round. Jake lifted his chin at her in silent challenge, signaling her to keep going. Sunghoon’s lips pressed into a hard line while Jungwon fidgeted, trying and failing to meet his brother’s eyes.

Y/N’s gaze was unwavering. She took another slow sip, savoring it, then lowered her glass to the table with a soft clink.

“How’s Emily?” She asked, voice casual, eyes glinting like sharpened glass. “The baby’s coming in… what, a few weeks? Did you decide on a name yet?”

Jake drew in a careful breath, chest tight as he tried to remind himself that this wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. People had babies every day. People asked about baby names every day- Y/N was going to be the aunt, after all. But somehow, in this moment, with every pair of eyes fixed on him like knives, it felt colossal.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low and slightly strained. He nodded, fingers drumming lightly on the neck of his beer bottle. “A few. Amber, Emma, Robin, Luna. She says Blue is her favourite.”

Y/N made a soft, thoughtful sound in the back of her throat, swirling her whiskey lazily. “Luna’s my favourite.”

Niki let out a sharp snort, tipping his chair back on two legs. “What kinda name is Blue?” He scoffed. “Emily’s always been stupid- honestly.”

Jake’s head snapped up, eyes flashing. “You’re gonna find an excuse to shit on her for everything?” His voice came out tight, barely controlled, like a stretched wire ready to snap.

Niki rolled his eyes, dropping his chair back onto all fours with a loud thump. “Are you just starting to learn that?” He shot back. “You act like this is new.” Jake’s lips parted to retort, but Niki was already pressing forward, sharp as a blade. “What’d Dad say, anyway?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Jake shot back, growling it before he could stop himself. He didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but he was done waiting for the inevitable. He was just counting down the seconds until the accusations started flying, until they flayed him open in front of everyone.

He tightened his grip around his beer, glass biting into the tender cuts already splitting across his knuckles. His skin stretched painfully, stinging and raw, as if even his own body was punishing him for being here.

Y/N tilted her head, her mouth curling into a faint smirk as she studied him with glinting eyes. She looked, for a moment, almost… delighted. Because Jake, for the first time in a long time, looked cornered.

Jake Sim- who’d once made men twice his size tremble with a single stare- sat there looking like an animal bracing for the blow. And it wasn’t an enemy doing this to him. It was the people who knew him best.

It was humiliating.

He could feel his pulse hammering in his ears, loud enough that he barely noticed Sunghoon shifting beside him, subtle and restless. Even Sunghoon, for all his sighs and annoyed glances, wasn’t stepping in to save him.

Jake clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt. He was furious with himself- for letting them see how rattled he was. For letting himself be afraid of people who technically worked for him, who were supposed to follow his orders.

All of them worked under him. All of them owed him loyalty. Yet somehow, it felt like they held all the power now. And that scared Jake more than anything else.

“Fine, tell me then,” Y/N said, leaning forward on her elbows with a lopsided grin, eyes glittering like she was daring him to lie again.

“Anything to do with Emily does not concern you,” Jake snapped back, each word sharp enough to cut. He hated how his voice trembled at the edges, hated even more the cold pit that seemed to sink deeper into his stomach the longer this conversation went on. He knew they had a point. He just didn’t want them to be right.

“Technically, it does,” Jungwon piped up, his voice unexpectedly firm.

Every head at the table turned toward him. The clink of ice in drinks, the thump of bass from the dance floor, all seemed to fade for a second as silence fell.

Jungwon looked back at Jake, brow furrowed. “You only met her because of us,” he continued, sounding almost offended that nobody else was saying it. Y/N blinked at him, as if startled that Jungwon- usually the quietest one- was suddenly dropping truths like grenades.

“Still doesn’t mean you have to know everything,” Jake bit out, his glare searing a hole into Jungwon’s forehead, but he didn’t flinch.

“Jake,” Jay interjected calmly, folding his hands together on the table. “You met her ‘cause of them, or no?”

It wasn’t a demand, not quite. Jay had a way of asking things that cut through the bullshit without ever raising his voice. It was the same directness Y/N possessed, except softer around the edges.

“Yes.”

The word left Jake like a rock falling out of his chest. Saying it felt like slitting open his own ribs and laying bare the truth for them to pick over. He could feel blood rushing in his ears, felt his skin burning hot like his veins were on fire. His ears turned red. His jaw ached from clenching so hard. For a second, he thought his eyes might start bleeding if he didn’t breathe.

“Now was that so hard?” Y/N taunted, her mouth twisting into a smirk so familiar it made Jake’s teeth grind together. Her dark eyes sparkled with something suspicious and triumphant.

Yes. It was.

“Honestly, I don’t fucking get what your issue with Emily is!”

And just like that, the dam broke.

The ugly side of Jake came roaring out, slamming into the center of the table with the weight of years of secrets and resentments. His voice echoed over the music, harsh enough that nearby tables turned to look.

Jungwon blinked rapidly, eyes darting toward Sunghoon, who sat stiff as a board, looking caught between intervening and staying silent.

Jay stayed where he was, fingers interlaced, an awkward cough stuttering from his throat as he glanced toward Y/N. He half-expected her to flinch back from Jake’s outburst- but Aspen she straightened her spine and lifted her chin higher, her expression solid as stone.

Y/N and Niki, of course, were grinning like wolves. Cynical excitement glittered in their eyes, an energy electric enough to prickle along the skin of everyone at the table. Sunghoon, meanwhile, seemed to sink a little lower in his seat, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples like he was bracing for an explosion he’d seen coming miles away.

Niki had always hated Emily. From the very first day Y/N introduced her to them in university, he’d wanted nothing to do with her. That distaste only deepened after Y/N and Emily’s brutal falling out.

Back then, Y/N and Niki had spent entire semesters running interference, trying to keep Emily and Jake on different paths. They knew Emily’s type. They knew how slick her lies were, how her smiles were calculated, how she could tilt her chin and say exactly the right words to slip past a man’s defenses.

They hadn’t wanted anything to happen to Jake. But when had Jake ever cared about their concern?

All their worst fears had finally come true the day Emily managed to wrap Jake around her little finger. When she convinced him that no one else could handle him the way she could, that only she could soothe his volatility, his dark moods.

She’d whispered that she could help with business, too- because her family owned a weapons manufacturing company, with ties that could be useful.

Jake fell. Hard. Head over heels for her dark hair and ice-pale skin, for the cool glint in her pale eyes. He fell for her like a man starving for air.

And now, she was pregnant. And the baby was coming in a few weeks. And somehow, Jake still insisted none of it concerned anyone else.

“Ever since I met her, you lot just distanced yourselves from me. You were the ones who started acting differently around me,” Jake said, eyes hard and voice edged with bitterness. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Jake. Why don’t you ask yourself that?” Y/N scoffed, though she quickly turned and passed Jungwon a soft smile when she saw him cringe. Jungwon shook his head, mumbling something under his breath, and when Jake shot him a sharp look that asked, what the hell did you just say? Jungwon only turned away.

“The answer is right in front of you, Hyung. You just won’t accept it,” Niki snapped, his voice raw with frustration. He glared at his brother, fearless, stabbing his finger toward Jake like he was delivering a sentence. “You’re the one who shut us out. You’re the one who fell head over heels for someone we told you to stay away from!” He pointed sharply between himself, Y/N, and Jungwon. “You’re the one who kicked us out of the house because Emily wanted you all to herself!”

Jake’s mouth opened, then closed again. He didn’t know how to justify any of it. The silence that fell around the table was suffocating.

“You’ve been ignoring your brothers, Jake,” Y/N said quietly, voice like a blade sliding between his ribs. “Forget about me and Jay. They’re your brothers, and you pushed them away.” She pointed towards them- Sunghoon and Jungwon ducked their heads away from Jake’s gaze, Niki glared right back. 

“She’s got you wrapped around her fingers, don’t you see that?” Niki spat. “Your whole damn life revolves around her now. And you’ve changed. For God’s sake, you’ve become so fucking blind!” He threw his arms wide, the gesture almost theatrical, but the bitterness behind it was real.

Jake stayed silent for a long moment, staring down at the table as if the battered wood could offer him an answer. He ransacked his mind for some kind of snarky comeback, but nothing felt strong enough. Because the worst part was- they were right. Every single word. And the knowledge gnawed at his insides like acid.

“You’re serious, right?” Jake’s voice came out low and dangerous. “You’re jealous? Fucking jealous because I don’t pay attention to you?”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Niki growled under his breath, shooting Jay an incredulous look across the table.

Jay let out a heavy sigh, mirroring Niki’s frustration.

“You think we’re jealous because you give Emily attention?” Y/N let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Please.”

“It’s not about jealousy,” Jungwon finally burst out, finishing off his third cocktail in a single gulp. Jake rolled his eyes at his younger brother’s sudden surge of confidence.

“Exactly! It’s not about that!” Y/N exclaimed, shaking her head so hard that her hair fell forward around her face. “It’s about you changing your priorities and turning a blind eye to the people who always had your back. Hell, you finally talked to your parents today after so long and it didn’t even end well! Do you not see what she’s doing to you?” Her eyes were wide and fierce, her arms flailing as she tried to drive the truth into his skull.

“You think she’s manipulating me?” Jake shot back, voice trembling with a mixture of rage and something dangerously close to fear.

“Finally! My god, I thought you’d gone illiterate too,” Niki sneered, leaning back in his chair and locking his hands behind his head. Sunghoon and Jay both reached over to smack him lightly on the arm, telling him to knock it off, while Jungwon and Y/N shook their heads in exasperation.

Jake growled low in his chest, the urge to punch Niki square in the face riding high on his nerves.

“Yes, Jake. She’s manipulating you,” Jay said wearily, dragging a hand through his hair as if this conversation physically drained him. His wings shifted behind him, the faint shimmer of gold threading through the black feathers, and Y/N whispered a soft thank you into his ear.

“You don’t know shit, Jay,” Jake shot back, voice brittle.

“Hey, I’m being the nicest one out of all these assholes, and you’re gonna say shit like that?” Jay snapped, his eyes blazing brighter against his skin.

“You think you know everything just because you and Chelsea fell in love and grew your soulmate wings,” Jake bit out, hoping the words would cut as deeply as they once might have. But he realized, with a cold sinking in his gut, that his insults didn’t seem to land anymore. Not with anyone at this table.

It was painfully clear how much he’d lost. How little he seemed to matter to the people who used to be his world.

“What the hell does Chelsea have to do with this?” Jay fired back, pushing himself up from his chair until he was looming over the table. His expression was thunderous, shoulders squared, wings fluttering, ready for a fight.

Jake mirrored his movements, leaning forward until their faces were only inches apart, his palms planted flat on the table as silent threats hung between them like charged electricity. His wings threatened to open. He darted his eyes briefly toward Y/N, desperate to see if he’d managed to scare her- but she just sat there coolly, clicking her tongue against her teeth.

The lack of fear in her gaze made Jake’s blood boil even hotter.

He’d always been jealous of Jay. Deep down, he couldn’t deny it. Jay hadn’t just fallen in love with a random woman- he’d fallen in love with his soulmate. The delicate golden patterns shimmering on both his and Chelsea’s wings were a permanent reminder of that fact.

Jake wanted that. Desperately. He wanted it with Emily. But even after all these years together- after professing their love for each other- their wings remained ordinary black and white. But he wasn’t complaining- he still loved her.

It felt like the universe was playing a sick joke on him. And instead of acknowledging all the red flags that had been flapping around him like warning signals, he’d chosen to keep lying to himself because it was easier. Because facing the truth meant facing the possibility that he’d wasted time on someone who was never loyal.

“No, I don’t think I’m an expert,” Jay said, voice finally leveling out. “But since you love being right so much, let me give you something to be mad about.” Jake clenched his jaw. Jay took a slow breath, then started counting on his fingers. “I know Emily is a shitty person. I know her family is shady. I know she doesn't care enough about love or wings to stay. And you are gonna regret ever trusting her.”

With each statement, Jay jabbed his finger into Jake’s chest. 

“She’s pregnant with my child. Where could she possibly be going now?” Jake spat, but even he sounded tired, defeated.

He didn’t even know why he was trying anymore. He’d already lost the fight long before it started.

“We’ve known Emily way longer than you have!” Y/N shot back. “Of course we know what we’re talking about. There’s a reason we tried to keep you away from her. But no- you just had to do the one thing we begged you not to do.” Her voice was shaking now, but with rage, not fear.

“You’re talking? You never do anything I tell you to do!” Jake shouted, flinging a hand in her direction. A round of dramatic gasps circled the table.

Jay lowered his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose, collapsing back into his chair just as Jake did the same.

“At least I didn’t blow up my relationship with my family in the process!” Y/N snapped. Jake lowered his head, though his jaw kept flexing like he was chewing rocks. “You’re a mobster, Jake. You’re supposed to be smart. Do you not see that she’s going to leave your blind ass!?” She practically screamed the last words. Niki let out a wicked grin, lifting his beer bottle and tipping it in Y/N’s direction in solidarity.

“Bullshit!” Jake shouted, his voice raw. “Can’t you see that I’m happier with her? Why can’t you just accept that? I’m about to start a family with her,” there was almost a note of pleading in his tone, buried under the anger.

“She doesn’t even want to marry you,” Niki deadpanned. “Until now, I thought you were just blind and illiterate. But you’re immature too. Huh. Guess we’re learning new things every day.” He took a long, mocking sip from his beer.

Jake slammed his fist into the table so hard the glasses rattled, the tips of his ears burning red, his eyes narrowed to furious slits. “Watch your fucking mouth!” he growled.

Niki just lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug, while Jungwon blinked rapidly and Sunghoon exhaled a ragged breath.

“No, Jake. You don’t have the right to say that to any of us anymore,” Y/N said firmly, folding her arms over her chest. “You lost that right when you shoved us all away for some girl from a shady-ass family. So come talk to us when you decide to actually listen to what we’re trying to tell you.” 

Her gaze was steely as she stared at him down, more powerful than any anger he’d ever seen in her eyes.

Niki stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, gentle but decisive. “We should go,” he said quietly, glancing at Jungwon. The two brothers exchanged a silent nod before Jungwon stood as well, grabbing Y/N’s hand as the three of them prepared to leave.

“We’re only telling you this because we care,” Y/N said, pausing as she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Jake’s with an intensity that felt like a knife. “But it’s pretty clear it’s worth nothing to you.” She gave Niki’s hand a squeeze. “You coming, Jay?”

Jay shook his head slightly. “Sunghoon’s supposed to drive me home. You know I’m a shit flyer when I’m drunk.”

“We’re taking a cab,” Y/N pressed her lips together, gave Sunghoon a silent nod, and turned to leave. And just like that, Y/N, Niki, and Jungwon walked out the bar doors- just as Jake had walked out of their lives.

[nekoboydreams]

Hi! I really enjoyed your visual novel, it was super interesting, and I have a lot of questions!

1) It seems like no one in the circus troupe really gets along (or is it just Pierrot and Harlequin who have issues because of a tragic love triangle in the past?). Is the promise of creating a real home the only thing still holding them together?

2) Will we see the appearances of the other clowns and harlequins? (Pierrot mentions he's the only Pierrot "among jesters and harlequins"). This question also applies to their human forms (if they even have them).

(do they absorb people to create their human forms, and of course, to feed themselves? (Sorry, I took Harlequin's play "And the Monsters Became Humans" a little too literally. I think they ate that person in the smiling mask, like they did Columbine.Though, I don't think that terrible person who imprisoned them could be considered an example to compare themselves to….(

3) I think this is related (or maybe not), but in that same play, when the monsters were listing the advantages of becoming human, the silhouette with the orange eyes (the one that looks like a hedgehog) said, "No one will hurt us anymore." That immediately made me think of when we stood up for Pierrot at the very beginning of the novel. I think that's cute. Is there a connection there?

(By the way, I find it funny that in Harlequin's play, Pierrot looks like the shortest one, but now he's the second-tallest character!) I think that hedgehog in the play is Pierrot – maybe because Pierrot's hat has three points and his eyes are orange. Now I can't unsee Pierrot as a hedgehog.

4) We know the colors of the tickets are connected to the clowns, but what are the black and yellow tickets for then? Are they for people who are some kind of "audience" that will then support the circus's status? (Saying good things about it on TV, among people, etc.)

Sorry if these questions are too long and if there are any errors in the text as English is not my first language.

Good luck to you!

Wow, Thank you! And, so many questions! That's totally fine it's always fun for me.

1) Let’s say the rest of the circus gets along in their own way. It’s a bit of a chaotic family. Only Pierrot and Harlequin have a serious issue between them, which sometimes causes headaches for the others.

2) The other members are already prepared for their appearances! As for what they’re really like under their costumes, that’ll be revealed a bit later.

Harlequin’s story is true, but it’s told in his way. The flashes you see while he’s telling the story are pure reality. There will be more to that story, so maybe things will start to make more sense from here on!

3) Very well spotted, dear anon! I don’t think I’ve seen anyone bring that up yet. There is definitely a connection between those scenes! As for the shape and size of the dolls, keep in mind they were made by Harlequin himself! As you saw, his doll is even taller than the orange-eyed one, and he’s also the only one staring directly at the screen.

4) The yellow tickets are the regular ones, the kind you buy at the circus box office! The black tickets… those are very different. You’ll have to wait and see more about them in the future! TYSM!

[renasomewhere]

My karma analysis and by analysis I mean saying what I see with pictures to help (and some theories.)

Here mizi says

"stop pretending to be righteous. Neither you nor I deserve to be saved" Mizi probably see's this as her survivor guilt and blaming luka for hyuna's death

Then there is a scene of the arguement seen in the teaser, I am not going to add a picture for this as I believe that not much is needed to say (unless somebody says otherwise lmao) One interesting thing though is sua stops mizi from kissing her.

Mizi takes the laptop from issac which has the missile launch controls on here, she clicks execute. Now I believe that it was supposed to be timed and mizi took the timer off to kill not only the segyien but herself and the rebellion. she holds the laptop close and they run to get it off of her as mizi just sits holding. Ready to die.

It then cuts to this which my first thought when watching it for the first time, and now for that matter is its relation to the true face comic, More specifically this "page"

"A bunch of idiots circling you at all times"

Everybody wants to see mizi happy, which is why the people in karma Immediately go up to her. They want her happy and that is it.

The episode then cuts to IvanTill HyunaLuka with hyunwoo and Mizisua but those are quite big so I probably will make analysis' for each of those!

"Hyuna I have something to confess. She was secretly rehearsing her death every night and I knew but pretended not to. Maybe I just wasn't as desperate for her. I know my love was different from yours. But it was love, too."

She thinks because she didn't step in and instead chose to pretend that her love for sua is invalid, Which isn't the case but mizi is presumably having a breakdown like saw in wiege (and this to, but wiege is older)

Sua rehearsed her death not only because that was something she was ready to do to keep her alive but also because her "mother" would most likely be disappointed if sues death wasn't grand.

"If you would have saw the look on her face too, you wouldn't be able to judge her"

More my god my universe stuff. Saying that if anybody would have saw Sua In mizi's eyes then they would fall for her the same way that she did.

The left screenshot is from karma, we see many things on mizi AND on sua, with the latter having a screen of sorts on her collarbone. My first thought went to robot sua from the artwork on the left but I am most likely wrong

The rocket is falling which will cause destruction across the stage. they then show all the characters EXCEPT luka for some reason or another, Perhaps because luka is the only one of them to not have a "provider" as he was grew in a lab (lab baby lukaa)

And then it has the best scene in all of alien stage that we have been waiting for since round one:

MIZISUA KISS, TAKE THAT MIZITILL SHIPPERS. THIS IS HER ONE LOVE AND YOU WILL NEVER SEE TILL LIKE THIS.

Sorry, I got carried away. Continue, shall we?

I'm gonna combine all of these into one because they are all related. Mizi is beaten up, Either by the rebellion trying to get the laptop back or luka in self defence. She holds onto till and a ghost of sua rests on her girlfriend trying to comfort her despite the kinda big situation.

In a zoomed in shot Till's earpiece glows red, He is alive.

She reaches and calls out for issac. she needs to save him, She thinks she has killed so many people and she can't let till be one of those. She grabs onto his shirt and begs him to save till.

It then flashes back to the scene where sua is watching and rehearsing her death. Mizi runs into her room and holds onto her, grappling her and never letting go. Keeping her god in arms reach.

Issac: "For humans... and for these beasts too innocence was a luxury they couldn't afford. In this endless suffering, to love and be loved. To hold onto hope for a day that may never come. Is that survival instincts, or selfishness. At the center of it all was a woman. A woman now called a witch, who was always searching for love. Can we really blame her for that? Where did this original sin begin? And in a trial with no clear answer, can these lives ever overcome it?"

I don't have much to say about this speech except that It is obviously about mizi. It cuts to mizi when it says "a woman now called a witch". Mizi is this so called witch for wanting a basic function of love? she wants to love and she wants to crush and as issac says can we really blame her?

Actually using the picture above it shows that luka is back as an idol and that the attack on the stage that happened seven years earlier by mizi was known as a tragedy. The korean on the middle image translates roughly to ALNST disaster seventh aniversary... where is the culprit. The segyien know that mizi is the culprit for this and that she is gone, with the rebellion or on her own we do not know however I hope it is the former and she is in a place where she can actually get better from the trauma she has induced time and time again

It cuts to a shot of a museum we see a headline for in the previous image. A museum of everything from that season of alien stage, from the collars to the microphones and even the dresses.

In this shot the middle shows two of tills guitars and lukas violin used in The final round. on the sides we see the main event so to speak: Dna mixes of the cast. On the left we see a Mix of mizi and ivan and on the right we see a mix of luka hyuna and sua as well as till mixed with somebody I don't know.

Till who we assume is now working for the rebellion has broken into the museum to save these children from there life in captivity, the only life they knew and the life he at one point knew. Till knows how these children must feel and doesn't want them to feel that way anymore, He wants them to be free and live a life that they can call theirs.

Tags: @whosamity143 @crustyfloor @espritradieux and @localfandom

[tinytalkingtina]

Tales of Eddierotica Chapter 1: Argh me matey

Eddie writes the world's worst erotica about characters who are just poorly disguised versions of himself and Steve. One day, Steve finds out exactly what's been going on inside the mind of his roommate all these years.

Rated E | 4.3k words | Ao3 link [Chapter 1] | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Overall tags: crack treated seriously/porn with a plot, modern/no-UD AU, friends to lovers, bisexual Eddie AND Steve, steddie as roommates, switch Eddie/Steve, vers Steve/Eddie, Eddie has a crush on Steve (and is horny about it), writer Eddie, the prose is so purple it has passed out from a lack of oxygen, friend fiction/erotica, so many bad puns and word play Chapter-specific tags: pirate AU, pirate Eddie, sailor Steve, pegging, rope bondage, non-con bondage, sexual frustration, orgasm denial, edging, and penis sword fighting (mind the tags but the erotica is at all times silly)

Written for the @switcheddieweek event, fulfilling the "art" prompt!

Find the full chapter on Ao3 to read it in all of its comic sans glory, but enjoy a snippet below the cut (as well as tags). Pink is Eddie's writing below.

“Theodore!” Stevenson growled manfully, as a man might. “You’ve gone too far this tiiiiiiimmmoohhhhh, too far this time! I demand you release me at once. Let us settle our differences as men of honor might.” The raven-haired roguish rascal grinned. “Why Commander, are you asking little old me for a duel? Your weapon is certainly impressive, but I promise, my own morning wood is far more dexterous in the afternoon!” Stevenson craned his neck. From where he was bound, he could just make out the captain’s trouser sword, the red tip shining merrily in the half past two o’clock sun. True to the captain’s word, it bobbed and waved in the breeze with quite agile ease. Still, what choice did Stevenson have? This unceasing torment would surely be his undoing. Even if he managed to reach his peak, la petite mort would be far too great for his tired body and overcum soul. “Yes, I do challenge you to a duel, you dastardly fieeeeend!” Anything to ease the ache in his pale twinned coconuts. The more Steve read, the less convinced he was that this was revenge. It was way too silly. Definitely weird and fucked up. But ‘pale twinned coconuts’ was something guys would say in like, a comedy porno. And now that he thought about it, Eddie had left the notebook where Steve could find it by accident. Maybe this was why the two of them got along so well, his roommate would turn his annoyance at whatever Steve had done into stupid porn to laugh at. Which was in fact very Midwestern of him after all. Mercifully the pirate captain holding him captive decided he’d had his fill of watching the commander writhe and groan. His loyal crew mates pulled Stevenson back onto the deck, giving him a much needed reprieve from the peg he’d been impaled upon. Though blood flowed back into Stevenson’s limbs, his body still spared some to hold his mighty spear aloft. For Stevenson’s johnson was truly a weapon to behold and envy. Even under clothes, its size and girth served as a source of distraction for those who shared the room with it. Steve glanced down at his pants and the super obvious outline of his dick. Okay so maybe these sweats were a little too tight to wear in public, but in his defense, Eddie had walked into a wall or tripped over his own feet every day since the two of them had met. How was he supposed to know some of those accidents were dick-related? Once the commander recovered his strength, he stood to his full height. Standing but one inch over his opponent only due to his stupidly attractive voluminous hairTowering over his opponent, he grasped his Not So Lil’ Stevie[son] and prepared to fight.

Read the rest on Ao3!

Tagging folks who have been scarred by wip weekend snippets:

@hbyrde36 @pearynice @eriquin @queenie-ofthe-void @yesdangerpls

@fkinkindagauche @helpimstuckposting @augustjustice @apomaro-mellow

@onirislanding @sidekick-hero @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @stellarspecter

@zombiethingy @wynnyfryd @griefabyss69 @stevesjockstrap @runninriot

@sourw0lfs @dame-zoom-a-latte @pentapoctopus @soaringornithopter

[nextinline-if]

A Message from Vi (Next in Line IF)

Hi everyone,

I know that I've been away a while and haven't updated the game. Long story short? A while ago, I was laid off from my job, lost my health insurance (and access to therapy and other services), and have been focused heavily on finding a new job while also battling severe mental health struggles. After starting therapy, getting diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and starting medication, I was finally finding a good balance. But losing my job reverted a lot for me and I lost my income and health access.

So, I am really, truly sorry for not being around for a while. I am still trying to find a job though I have a final interview tomorrow and I'm really hoping I get an offer.

But I have been on hiatus because of these personal issues. This time has also given me some time to think about Next in Line and how to move forward with it. Because I think about the game and this community all the time. I miss it. I miss working on it. I miss engaging with all of you.

So, you can expect a new message here in the coming week. I think it's important to be transparent and honest with you. The game will be continuing but every time I work on it, I feel incredibly overwhelmed by the scope. As many of you know, Next in Line, was my first interactive fiction. And because of the excitement, I put a ton of pressure on myself to offer all kinds of things like pets, a ton of scenes with all these combinations, places to visit, etc. Essentially, I created a massive, overwhelming amount of scene combinations and character configurations. Because of this, I have struggled to create updates these last couple years, because it physically overwhelms me to the point where I mentally short wire and just can't do it. My anxiety when it comes to the game sends me spiraling because I'm terrified of never living up to the expectations I set.

So, next week, I will be providing you with a scaled back plan for the game. I'll include details on what's staying and what's not. I know it's going to suck for me to say 'hey, this won't be a part of the game anymore' but I have to do this if I want to actually deliver the content. Once that game is actually finished, there's always possibility things could get added back.

Anyway, talk soon. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions related to this. I'll review and answer the best I can.

-Vi

[yannaryartside]

So…on the Claire thing. Like, full but vague spoilers for the whole resolution of her arc in this season. But some lines of dialogue

The apology/confrontation happened in 4x03

And I have mix feelings about it. He apologized for saying the things he said and she acknowledged that she pushed into him and far from him as she saw him react to her. But the conversation ends in “if we could pass trough the scary things it would be incredible”

So the season ends with him leaving the city and partying in good terms with her, promising to work on himself….and yet….

The scene serve to tell me that Claire did have genuine feelings for Carm and how she saw her role on how the relationship went. Carm says he loves her. She says she hopes he finds “quiet”

So, these two individuals don’t really understand how codependent and empty the relationship was. There were true feelings behind it. The true nature of this plot hasn’t been revealed YET

It’s not clear if she would come back for another season, he may have to understand all of this without her in the picture. Wich, okay.

I think the “it would be incredible” is more on the tone that he is going to therapy with the intention of fixing his head expecting to find “the incredible” with her later

But also. Carmy said, “you make me feel like I was in fire, it was great” and for a guy that has self harm thoughts related to fire…I don’t think that means what he think it means

So I think Claire is coming back. If anything, I would have to wait another fucking year to discover what is the issue with this character and why she creeped me out so much.

The show has told me she cared for Carmy, but idk if that is an answer for my issues with her liking approaching and being comfort of people at risk. There is to many signs toward that and she still hasn’t acknowledged it. I’m glad she pushed back away from the relationship when she realized there were so many underlying problems…but I’m still…not convinced

[waifuoftomonori]

I'm surprised this many people say they can't, to be honest. Maybe it's just a me thing, but it seems easy to find at least one thing you have in common with any given character, and if they're your absolute favorite / obsession material, that chance probably increases exponentially. Unless the reason you're that obsessed with them is precisely because their entire character makes absolutely no sense to you in a good way. I suppose that's a possibility. But it's not one I've ever personally felt.

Anyway. Tomonori is a depressed nerd who keeps insisting he's fine because he doesn't want to be a burden on the people he cares about who are already suffering enough, gets excited about books, feels nostalgia for the simpler days of childhood, normally tries to be polite (unless you really piss him off) but can be passive-aggressively bitchy when irritated, has a somewhat dark sense of humor, is romantic as fuck, is loyal to those he loves but also kinda sneaky in some of his methods, and engages in a lot of kinky behaviors despite never canonically having sex. Of course I relate to him.

Shiki is also depressed, grew up with boys for best friends and would often run around being physically active with them, often feels socially isolated due to her position, and despite being generally honorable has her "sneaky" moments.

Akifusa and Shinra are a little harder to relate to, but not that hard once I think about it. They're both complete social klutzes for somewhat similar reasons.

I have shared this screenshot before, but it's so me-coded I feel compelled to share it again:

I love you, Aki, but you have a tendency to be way too honest even when it would probably be beneficial for you to stop talking much sooner. He's just such a failure in the best way possible. There's also a part of me that desperately clings to the same idealistic worldview Akifusa holds, even with all the bullshit going on in the world.

I don't have any Shinra screenshots saved, but a lot of my favorite moments from his PoV stories involve him saying something and immediately thinking "why did I say that". There's also this one scene where all the guys are poring over some dumb magazine article where a bunch of women say what kind of men they find attractive, and they (the other guys) unanimously agree that Shinra fits none of the listed traits. In response, he gets flustered and pushes the whole table over. Cue more exasperated sighs and "He'll never be popular with the girls." Honestly also strangely relatable.

Every poll on this blog is about fictional characters only. This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[hwangjoanna]

'Red Light, Green Light.'

SKZ Squid Game AU

Hyunjin X Reader

Enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers

Dom/Hyunjin, Sub/Reader

Possessive & jealous Hyunjin

Hyunjin, Seungmin & Minho are all mean (sorry)

Felix and Jisung Besties (Soft boys)

Warnings - MDNI 18+, Physical & emotional abuse, Sappy Hyunjin, Degradation, Use of the terms Slut & Whore, Violence, Gore, Use of guns, Main character death (I’m sorry), Non-consensual touching, Angst, Anxiety Attack, Nightmares, Smut, Mentions of unprotected sex, Non-consensual Sex.

A/N - In honour of this being chapter 13 I thought I would write a chapter from only Y/n’s perspective. As she’s player 013, I thought it would be the perfect chapter to focus on our girl. However, it’s not an easy read by any means! I appreciate how many of you got involved in the latest poll, it was very interesting to see your thoughts.

Word Count - 5,608

Part 12

[Series Masterlist]

Chapter 013

PLAYER 013 POV

The main room feels quieter now, almost eerily so. There are fewer beds and more money in the piggy bank, which swings and catches the artificial overhead lights occasionally. It’s a constant reminder of the loss you feel. You look up at the blood money, and you remember that one of the stacks in there is Jisung’s share.

You twitch slightly, the uneasy feeling growing in your chest again. Grief, sorrow and the overwhelming fear that this could be your fate at any given moment. Not only yours but theirs.

Your boys, the men you’ve grown to care for in the weirdest of ways. In the outside world you probably never crossed their paths, you’d probably have never opened yourself up to the relationships you have with them now.

For one, Wooyoung would have never allowed it, he’d become very controlling in your final year together. Commenting on what you’d wear, and giving you a time frame if you went out with friends.

However, as time went on he’d never be around. So what would you have done if you met Hyunjin in the outside world?

You honestly didn’t know, when you met him you thought he was an absolute asshole. Which, granted he still was but as you came to get to know him you found he had a gentle and caring side.

Once he’d mentioned his lack of love as a child it almost made sense to you why you’d been so drawn to him. Yes, your parents never abused you but they also had no relationship with you. Just constantly threw money at you as a way of buying your love. You never really thought about it until you were here, in the game. Trapped in four walls where time didn’t feel real, although in here you had so much time to think. It was almost torturous how much.

Left with the hollow memories of childhood, where all your ‘friends’ were rich and shallow. Your parents were constantly away on business trips, leaving you with some ‘aunts’ or ‘uncles’ that you figured weren’t actually related to you. You did have an uncle, that you were sure of. He visited a lot when you were young but after around ten years old you don’t remember seeing him again.

This continued into your teenage years, snobby ‘friends’, sleepovers at strangers' houses. Then came graduation, your parents of course didn’t attend. They said they’d try to make it but ultimately you didn’t even feel disappointed when you stepped on stage, and glanced at the crowd and you didn’t see them.

You were grateful, you weren’t stupid. You had been born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you never wanted for anything and you had been provided the best education, but you fought off the ‘dumb rich girl’ stereotype as best you could. You wondered to yourself whether you came across that way to the boys.

You hoped not.

You wondered in that moment what they thought of you. It was clear that most of them were attracted to you, if you were honest with yourself, a lot of boys were when you were growing up. When you were twelve years old there were two boys at school fighting over you. The thought now amused you, one of them was called Changbin you remember. He was loud, energetic and boisterous. However, he was known as the school’s ‘bad boy’. The other was Jeongin, the boy you ended up with for two years. He was sweet, and he had a playful but gentle energy about him. A cute fox-like face, all the girls at school fancied him, but he was yours, and your best friend too.

That was until he told you a few weeks after your fourteenth birthday that he was moving to Busan. He said he’d try to keep in contact with you but once he’d gone you heard nothing.

Another person who abandoned you. You thought to yourself.

You brought it up to your mother one evening, her response cold as always ‘Well he wasn’t good for you anyway. My daughter should be dating a strong man, with the promise of a large inheritance. I much preferred Changbin, his father is very powerful.’ You roll your eyes at the memory of her words, then you chuckle slightly. She’s probably turning in her grave at who you’ve dated since her death, she would have hated Wooyoung. Granted, she would have been right about him. She probably wouldn’t be a fan of Hyunjin or Felix either. Not that you were dating them but the thought came regardless.

Suddenly, Hyunjin brings you back to reality. “Hey, you okay Thirteen?” He whispers against your hair. You’re lying between his legs on your bottom bunk, his back resting against the bed frame. Your back to his chest, one of his arms is wrapped around you, his other hand is stroking your skin lightly on your hip, underneath your numbered t-shirt.

You’d been so distracted with your thoughts you hadn’t realised till that moment how intimately he was holding you.

You hum in response, but he’s not happy with just that.

“What you been daydreaming about hmm?” His lips now ghost the side of your neck as he speaks, his breath sending shivers up your spine. “Still thinking about me?” He chuckles.

You laugh out loud, “You wish, lover boy.”

“No? Because I’ve been thinking about you.” His lips are now grazing your ear, and you can feel your panties getting wet. This guy.

You smirk to yourself wanting to egg him on. “Oh yeah? What about me?” You murmur, trying to control your breathing so as not to give yourself away.

“Hmm, let’s see. Mainly your smile, but also…” he pauses and lowers his voice to whisper that runs through you. “How wet you were earlier, how hot you look when you come, how beautifully you moan my name.”

Your breath hitches and he chuckles to himself at your reaction. You compose yourself for a moment and then reply, “Careful Hyunjin, you sound like you’re a bit obsessed with me.” You laugh again, playing it off as a joke but his hand stills on your hip and he squeezes it possessively.

“So what if I am.” He says, bluntly.

That makes you turn to him, his face is unreadable but his eyes dance across your features and land on your mouth, he runs his fingers through his slightly grown-out buzz-cut.

“Don’t be stupid, you’re just bored.” You say, trying not to think about yours or his feelings. You can’t do it again, let another guy in. Sex is one thing but ultimately you’ll just get hurt. He’ll leave you, they always do. Everyone.

“You seriously think I’m bored in here, Thirteen? When everyday I have to fight to keep myself alive. Where I have to see you get hurt? Where I have to deal with that fucking guard always putting his hands on you.” His voice grows as he speaks.

You glance at the others, Felix looks at you for a second but then continues his conversation with Minho and Seungmin where they sit on the steps.

“Why can’t I be? Hmm? Why can’t you accept that I might enjoy being around you?” Once the words come out of his mouth he pulls you on top of him, his lips crash against yours and he starts kissing you like no one else is in the room.

God, his kisses are like pure fire. Hot, wet and so passionate. His pillowy lips glide across yours with intent, and he starts to press his tongue into your mouth but you pull away. He’s never fully made out with you in public, at least not in front of the others.

His eyes are wide open, his grip on you loosens as he studies your reaction. “I think-“ he begins but you’re already getting up, interrupting him mid-thought. “I need a minute,” you say, as you scurry away to the bathroom, a corner of the room, somewhere but not here.

You don’t even want to think about what he was going to say. He doesn’t like you like that. He just likes fucking you.

As you round the corridor you smack into someone, and your body falls onto the floor with a thump. You hiss, as your ass cheeks throb from the landing. You look up and gasp, you can’t breathe, it’s him. The triangle masked man.

“Just the girl I was looking for,” he says, his voice echoing around you.

“I-“ you start to speak but then his hand is fisted into your hair as he drags you to your feet.

“You’re coming with me, Player 013.” He says, through gritted teeth.

You start to shake, the fear setting in. What’s he planning on doing?

You try to pull away, but your scalp burns from your efforts. His grip tightens in your hair, and his other hand grabs you by the arm. You scream, but no one hears, no one comes to your aid. Why did you have to run off? You start to sob, “No! Please! Please leave me alone!” Your shouting seems to anger him more and he moves his hand from your arm and presses it against your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch!” He spits. He drags you through a door that opens once his mask is scanned. Several guards walk by, none of them even turning their heads to you, a few glance your way but continue walking. You try to wriggle but he holds you firmly, he pulls you through another door and pushes you down to the ground, Your knees sting and you continue to cry. You try to move away from him, scooting back on your palms until you settle in a corner of the small room with nowhere else to go.

He locks the door behind him with a click and slowly stalks towards you, his body towering over your shaking form. You’re hunched over with your knees to your chest, weeping loudly.

The masked man squats down, he brings his finger to your chin to tilt it up at him and you wince at the contact.

“Look at me,” his ominous voice comes out gentler than before.

You close your eyes, your tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. Suddenly, he grabs your jaw in a bruising grip. “I said look at me!” He growls.

You snap your eyes open, you have no choice, he’s closer than before. Your vision slightly blurred from your crying. You can barely breathe, the air thick with antiseptic and malice. His gloved fingers dig into your jaw, forcing your face closer to his and for a second, the mask is all you can see. That cold, blank triangle. The subtle way he breathes you in makes your skin crawl.

“I’ve been watching you, player thirteen,” he says, calmly. Too calmly. “You’ve gotten very comfortable. Haven’t you? Smiling, laughing, lying in his lap like a whore.”

Your body jolts. You stare at him in confusion, terror mounting. He knows? He’s seen you with Hyunjin and that tone, why does it feel so personal? You try to speak, but your voice is trapped in your throat. His gloved hand brushes your cheek almost tenderly. The gesture makes your stomach turn.

“You think he cares about you?” His fingers trail down to your neck. “You think you’re special to him? That he won’t leave you when this is all over? Wake up.”

His words are like knives, they hit far too close to home. You want to scream, but you’re too afraid. Something about him, it’s not just the threat, it’s the intimacy of his hate. It clings to you like a memory you can’t quite place.

“Are you that desperate for attention?” He continues, his voice tight and dangerous.

You shake your head, attempting to back further away but there’s no space. He’s so close that you can hear his breathing under his mask, ragged, it feels like he’s holding back his anger. Your hands tremble where they clutch your knees.

“No? I see the way you look at him. I see the way he touches you.” He pauses, his head tilting. “I mean, they all want a piece don’t they?”

You think for a moment, surely he’s not allowed to speak to you this way. Then you remember you’re in a game where they kill people in cold blood and take their bodies away in boxes.

You continue to cry, “What did I ever do to you? Why are you doing this?”

“You know, I like how much you cry for me.” He laughs a low, joyless sound. “You cry harder than when he was between your legs.”

You freeze. Your heart threatens to tear itself apart inside your chest. How does he know that? How close was he? You turn your face, refusing to let him see the fresh wave of shame.

“That’s what I thought.” He says, He stands slowly, wiping his gloved hand on his pants like you’ve dirtied it. His shadow stretches across the room, swallowing you whole. You rub your sore knees, and his head follows the action. He notices the blood seeping through onto your teal track pants, staining the fabric.

He steps forward, “Let me see.” His voice, controlled.

You look up at him confused, “What?” You sniffle.

“Your knees, let me see.” He repeats.

You shake your head again, trembling under his gaze. “No, I’m-“ but then he interrupts you by grabbing your wrists and pulling you up, your flush against his chest for a moment before he lifts you onto a desk in the corner and pulls your track pants down to your ankles. You scream but his palm lands over your mouth again.

“Do as I fucking say and if you scream again, I’ll give you something worth screaming over!” He shouts through the mask, you continue weeping, pulling the hem of your numbered t-shirt down to cover yourself. He tears your hand away, gripping you violently.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” He comments and you feel sick knowing he saw you with Hyunjin buried inside you.

He turns and grabs a first aid kit from the cupboard, releasing your mouth. How many do they have here? It reminds you of how tenderly he put the burn gel on your palms, days ago.

He pulls out some sterile wipes and swipes them over your bloodied knees, you hiss at the contact and he just tuts under his breath. He sticks a plaster on each of them, gently. Suspiciously so. He lays his palm over it, his other hand holding down your thigh making you feel uncomfortable with how possessively he holds you.

Once he’s done he pulls up your track pants. “Good girl,” he whispers but you hear it and make an attempt to move.

He grabs you to stop you. “I’m in charge here.” He says and in that moment, your blood boils with rage. You don’t know how your fear turns to hate, but it does. You see red, your pulse deafening in your ears. Every cell in your body is screaming to stay small. To stay quiet but something inside you snaps. You stare up at him, eyes red, voice trembling but sharp.

“You’re not in charge though, are you?” you spit. “You’re just a number. Just another cog in the machine.”

He freezes.

“What did you just say?” His voice drops, dangerously low.

“You think that mask makes you powerful? That people obey you because they respect you?” you hiss. “They don’t. They’re afraid. Just like you are.”

He’s suddenly grabbing your shirt collar and yanking you to your feet. You gasp, toes barely brushing the ground.

“You want to test me, slut?” he snarls. “Keep talking.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” you lie.

You see it land, his breath stutters, just for a second. That mask is expressionless, but you see it in the way his grip tightens, how your words have gotten under his skin. You struck something.

“You think you matter in here?” you continue, emboldened by his flicker of hesitation. “You’re not a god. You’re not even a real man. You’re a number, just like the rest of us.”

He throws you hard against the wall.

The impact knocks the wind from your lungs, your vision sparking with white. His hand slams beside your head, and you barely manage to stay upright. “Say that again,” he growls, breath hot through his mask. “Say it again and see what happens.”

You don’t. You can’t but your eyes, even full of tears, even filled with fear, are still locked on his.

You don’t look away.

He breathes hard. His chest rises and falls like a storm barely held back. Then, without warning, he shoves you down again, not with force, but with disgust.

“Stay the fuck away from him, I don’t even want to see you even glance in his direction,” he mutters. “Or next time I won’t stop at threats. I’ll skin your pretty little boyfriend alive right in front of you.” He grabs you at the nape of your neck, pulling you out of the room, his gloved fingers dig bruises into your skin.

You hear the beeps of doors opening but you’re too busy scrambling to get your feet to carry you, your plimsolls scrap the floor. Then you’re back in the corridor again, by the bathrooms. He moves his hand to the front of your throat and shoves you against the cold hard wall. You cry out again as your head bangs on the concrete.

“If I hear you telling a single fucking soul about this conversation, I won’t stop at him.” You whimper at his words. “I’ll kill every. Single. One. Of. Them.” He sounds out every syllable with his threat.

He waits for you to answer but you just continue sobbing in his grasp, barely able to breathe. He loosens his grip enough for you to speak.

“Do you understand?” He screams in your face.

“Yes-yes-please. I won’t tell, you’re hurting me. Please-“ you stutter.

With that, he drops you again. Your palms hit the floor and you just let yourself lie there. Curled up in a fetal position, you’re shaking, your body on fire with the bruises left from his abuse.

He stands over you for a moment as if admiring his work. Then, without another word he walks through the door he came from.

You hear the door to the main room opening about five minutes later, but who really knows how long it was?

“Y/N?” A deep Australian accent breaks through but you don’t look up, continuing to cry. Your head is throbbing with a headache.

Felix reaches down to you but you flinch, “Hey, hey, hey, shh.” He strokes your back. “It’s just me, come here Angel.” He whispers soothingly.

That’s when he picks you up, like you weigh nothing and carries you bridal style back to the main room. As he walks with you in his arms, you hear rushed footsteps and voices asking what happened and if you’re okay. You can’t tell who’s speaking, your mind feels like mush, your ears ring and your body lies limply in his arms. Your face is pressed against Felix’s chest, and his smell comforts you.

He places you on what you assume is your bed but he stays and cradles you.

“Baby, what happened?” You hear Hyunjin’s voice but you don’t respond. Fear overcomes you, the guard could be watching you and you don’t want him to get hurt.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Felix spits.

You hear Hyunjin step back, “What are you talking about?” He responds.

“Well last person I saw her with was you, then I find her curled up in a ball. Crying her fucking eyes out. So I think it’s best you leave her alone.” Felix says, aggressively.

“If you’ve got a fucking problem with me, blondie. Then just fucking say it! Stop using her as an excuse.” Hyunjin says through gritted teeth.

You can tell they’re getting angry at each other now but you’re powerless to stop it. You feel paralysed in your own skin. If you tell them to stop, technically you’ll have to speak to Hyunjin.

“Oh I’ve got a fucking problem-“ Felix begins, his voice a deeper growl than you’ve ever heard before. But Seungmin steps between them, at least that’s what you assume because you hear his voice next. “Hey, let’s just cool off. Yeah?”

“Cool off! He’s gone right back to being her little guard dog again. Always playing the fucking hero!” Hyunjin shouts, and you can hear other players in the room pausing their conversations to listen in.

“YAH! SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU!” Minho shouts, and all three men stop. “You’re embarrassing yourselves, and Y/N is upset, do you really think you’re helping?”

You hear them all take a breath, your exhaustion starts to take you, as you sniffle into the pillow. You can feel yourself drifting off as they continue to speak amongst each other. Their voices lull you to sleep.

You’re at home, lying in bed. Your eyes adjust. It’s like your bedroom but not really. The bed feels like the one you fell asleep on. The small bunk with a metal frame. You roll over to look around and there he is, Hyunjin. He’s stood at the foot of your bed, a smirk on his lips. His hair is long and dark, not like it is now. He looks familiar like this.

“Hey baby,” he says as he climbs on top of you and settles between your legs, You wrap them around his waist. He starts kissing your jaw, your throat.

Suddenly, you’re both naked and he’s fucking into you slowly. He groans, it’s not like he’s fucked you before, it’s like he’s making love to you. “I’m so obsessed with you, Thirteen.” He whispers. You moan in response. His palm that rests on your throat tightens. “You’re going to kill me.” He says.

You blink, it’s not him anymore. Wooyoung’s hand chokes you. His face is in a snarl, his whiskey breath fans over your cheeks. “Just take it.” He hisses.

You try to say no, but you can’t speak. He makes that face. That face he makes when he’s about to come. You turn away, your eyes closed, trying to will yourself to wake up, you know you’re dreaming.

Wake up y/n, wake up.

His hand reaches for your jaw but his voice changes to that ominous sound. “Look at me,” a gloved hand pulls your face to his. You open your eyes and that triangle mask is in front of you. You scream but in the dream it sounds like a distant echo, like it doesn’t come from your mouth at all. The masked guard is still in his magenta uniform, but it’s unzipped. His cock is out and thrusting into you with a rough rhythm. “You’re taking me so well, you little whore.”

You grip his wrist pulling his hand away, he lets go and goes to grab you again but you use all your efforts and push him off you. He falls onto the floor. You run to your bedroom door, still naked and swing it open.

When you run out, you’re not in your apartment. You’re in the corridor again. The one near the bathrooms. You’re back in the game. You look down and you’re in your teal tracksuit. The fabric feels heavy, blood stains all over it. You hear him coming to the door.

You run.

You open a random door that leads to the pastel coloured staircase. You climb them as quickly as possible.

“You can’t run from me, I’m everywhere!” He shouts behind you. You don’t turn back. You just continue until you find another door.

Wake up! Wake up!

It’s Felix’s deep voice filling your ears now but you can’t see him anywhere.

You open another door, the space is decorated in dark geometric wallpaper, and the furniture black leather chesterfield seats dotted around the room.

There’s a group of people there, and they all stop to look at you. They’re wearing damask robes. Each adorning a gold mask, in shapes of animals; a tiger, a bull, a stag.

“Join us, Y/N.” The tiger man says.

You back away slowly, shaking your head and run out the door. Your body meets the triangle guard and you fall onto your knees.

“Just the girl I was looking for” he says, in the exact tone as earlier in the day.

“You’re not real.” You say, “I’m just having a nightmare.” You think saying it out loud will help appease the fear, and help you to wake up but it doesn’t work. Your breath is staggered now your heart pumping under your numbered T-shirt.

“Oh I’m very real, you’re still here. Still in the game.” He tilts his head. “And all because of me, if I didn’t take you into that room. You would have been eliminated. You should be begging for me.”

“Fuck you!” You scream, he approaches you but you kick his shin. He bends over, the screech coming from under his mask pierces through your ears. You get to your feet somehow and continue to run, you open another door.

It’s the carousel, it’s rotating in the middle of the room.

You’re alone.

‘Doong-geul-gae doong-geul-gae, jjag bing-geul-bing-geul dor-a-ga-myeo chum-eul chub-si-da, son-ppyeo-geul chi-myeon-seo.’

Six.

Then you hear him, that voice.

“Jagiya?”

You turn and there’s Jisung. He looks exactly like he did when he was alive. His beautiful honeyed skin glows, and his eyes sparkle when he sees you.

“Sorry I thought you were-“ he begins but then he smiles.

He runs towards you, and you jump into each other’s arms. You start to sob.

“I miss you so much, Ji.” You cry.

“I know.” He strokes your hair.

The timer on the wall is counting down, 20 seconds left.

“Where’s Jagi, where’s Minho?” He asks.

You look at him, his expression mirrors yours, and his tears run down his beautiful puffy cheeks. You shake your head. “He’s not here.” You whisper.

5 seconds…

“Don’t worry, I’ll see him soon.” He says. But it echoes in the room, and the sound is deafening.

1 second…

You hear a gunshot…

Then you wake, gasping. Your heart has never beaten so fast. You can’t breathe.

You’re panting, sweating. Minho runs over to you. “Y/N,” he says firmly. “You’re having a panic attack, Kitten. Come on breathe with me.” You can hear him but the sound is muffled, like you’re underwater.

You look at him, his eyes are full of concern, his brows are furrowed. He takes in a deep breath and you try to do it too but it’s stuck in your throat. You shake your head at him, your tears drip down to your chin.

Minho looks scared but you know he’s trying to hide it.

He brings his hands to your face and holds you in his palms in an attempt to ground you, “keep your eyes on me, Y/n. I’ve got you okay?” You nod then, he smiles slightly.

“Follow my breathing.” He commands.

Your throat opens and oxygen floods your lungs, it was like you were drowning before and now you’ve reached the surface.

“Good girl,” he says. “Can you do that again for me?” You oblige. Another gasp in, you hold it while he counts out loud to you and you blow out the air. You continue to breathe with him and your heart starts to slow down. You’re still aware of it in your chest but you can think now, you don’t feel overwhelmed.

“Jisung.” You whisper.

Minho visibly flinches at the name. He blinks a few times. “What?” He says, confused.

“He was in my dream, in my nightmare.” You pause catching another breath. “He asked for you.”

He chuckles but you can see the sadness in his eyes. He takes his hands from your face and settles them in his lap.

That’s when you look around the room and about five guards are circling other players, two triangles and three squares.

“What's going on?” You ask Minho, and he glances at them over his shoulder then looks at you.

“I’m not sure, something about a contraband item. They are searching beds and uniforms.” You nod, a little concerned but you don’t have any belongings on you so you try not to think about it.

“So what else happened? In your dream?” He says. “Did Jisung say anything else?” His eyes are hopeful but then you both hear two guards laughing behind him.

The two of you turn to them, “Still talking about your little boyfriend?” The one with the square mask says.

Minho stiffens. His body tenses like a coil ready to snap, and you feel the atmosphere shift around him.

The square-masked guard continues with a laugh that makes your skin crawl. “What did he say again? ‘I’m sorry, Jagiya’? Or was it, ‘I’m scared’? Little coward couldn’t even hold in his tears.”

The other guard snorts, “Fucking pathetic. Cried like a baby. You sure he was even a man?”

You don’t get a chance to respond, Minho moves.

He lunges.

The air you just got back leaves your lungs as his body slams into the nearest guard, tackling him to the floor. The metal clatter of armour, the surprised grunt of the square masked man, and the chaos of it all shatter the room’s tense stillness. Players scramble away, and shouts fill the air.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TALK ABOUT HIM!” Minho roars, fists landing hard against the guard’s helmet. The guard’s arms flail defensively, trying to block the blows, but Minho is relentless. “HE WAS TEN TIMES THE MAN YOU’LL EVER BE!”

Another guard rushes forward to pull him off, but Felix intercepts him, grabbing his arm. “Don’t touch him!”

Seungmin’s at your side, eyes wide, voice sharp. “Y/N, get back-get back-!”

You don’t move. You’re frozen. Because you know what’s coming. You see another square-masked guard, standing a few feet away, he reaches slowly for his gun.

“No…” You whisper, but the shot rings out anyway.

Minho’s body jerks backwards, the sound cracking through your ears. He stumbles. His face twists in disbelief as blood blooms over his stomach, spreading dark and fast beneath his fingers. His knees hit the floor.

“MINHO!” you scream, running to him before anyone else can react.

You slide beside him, your knees scraping the concrete as you press your hands over the wound. “No, no, no-stay with me-please-”

“Fuck! no-” Felix’s voice breaks, and he’s on the ground beside you, helping apply pressure. “You’re okay, Min, stay with us.”

Minho’s hand covers yours, weak but steady. “It’s okay, kitten…” he whispers. His voice is trembling, but soft, like he’s trying to comfort you.

“Don’t say that, don’t Minho, look at me-please-” Your tears fall freely now, hitting his cheeks, his blood-stained shirt, the floor beneath you. “Stay with me. You’re gonna be okay. Please.”

He blinks slowly, then winces, sucking in a sharp breath. “Hurts like hell…”

You faux laugh through your tears, like you’re helping him by putting on the act that you’re okay, “Then don’t be stupid and die, okay? Please!”

His eyes flutter. “Y/N…”

You shake your head violently. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t you fucking close your eyes.” You shout.

He smiles faintly. “Tell my parents… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t talk like that-stop-please!” you sob, “I promise. I’ll tell them, okay? But you’re gonna tell them yourself, when we get out…when we all get out-”

“I promise,” you say again, as his head begins to tilt, heavier in your lap.

Then… the light leaves his eyes.

You freeze but your body is trembling.

You don’t feel the moment your hands stop pressing. You don’t feel the blood soaking your palms anymore, or Felix’s shaking voice, or Seungmin’s broken cry beside you.

You just stare at Minho’s face.

Still. Peaceful.

Gone.

A scream tears itself from your throat. You don’t even know you’re the one making it until your voice goes hoarse. You launch forward, toward the guards.

“You fucking monsters!” you howl. “He was unarmed!“

You scramble to your feet, rage burning so hot your skin feels like it’ll split apart. “You fucking murderers-!”

Triangle 156 grabs you from behind, yanking you backward and pinning your arms to your sides with brutal force. His chest presses against your back as he speaks low and cold in your ear.

“I wouldn’t,” he hisses, his voice venomous. “Unless you want to watch them kill you and your pretty boyfriend.”

You go rigid. Silent.

He lets you hang there in his grip, shaking, suffocating with hate and fear.

Then, just as suddenly, he releases you.

You collapse to the floor beside Minho’s body again, and the guards begin to file out, silent and mechanical, as if nothing had happened.

“Fucking cowards,” Felix whispers, wiping angrily at his cheeks.

Seungmin cradles Minho’s head in his lap now, rocking slowly, mouthing words you can’t hear. His tears fall silently.

You can’t move.

You can’t speak.

Hyunjin stands just a metre away.

He hasn’t said anything, hasn’t moved an inch since the shot fired. His eyes are glassy, his lips parted, his shoulders trembling.

One tear slides down his cheek, and he doesn’t wipe it away.

The only sound is the quiet sobbing of the boys, and your breath hitching over the corpse.

Minho’s gone and something in you dies with him.

Chapter 14 - Coming Soon!

Please do not copy my work!

Comments, likes & reblogs are welcomed 🩷

Images in banner are not mine!

Dividers by - @sisterlucifergraphics

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Here's a post of the rules and boundaries for requests and art trades!~

Ah noticed that I didn't make a post for the rules and boundaries of my requests and art trades ever since Ah had this account on october 1st (or 2nd), so here it is!~ And I know most of y'all know the rules and boundaries and how to act around me when askin' for requests or art trades, but still there's a it of some updated things here =-w-=

Here's first the stuff what I WILL draw ✅☺️:

ocs

characters from many cartoons, shows, games, and movies in general

comfort characters

ships (straight, lgbtq, yuri, yaoi and polyamourous, even canon, headcanon and fanon, even OC x canon!~)

cute, wholesome, cool or comedic scenarios (for example: going out to mall, going shopping, night out, date night, karaoke night, dancing night... Etc)

redraws of scenes in many cartoons, movies, shows and games

crossovers and characters/ocs cosplaying as characters

characters or OCs singing many songs either alone or with more characters

characters or OCs doing wildtakes

characters doing anything romantic, like, romantic scenarios (Kissing or flirting And even date night)

Wedding scenarios

dramatic or shocking scenarios

AUs

And the stuff I will NOT draw ❌😠:

proships and comships

incest art

nsfw scenarios (cause they can get me in trouble)

anything related to fetishes such as inflation, vore, toilet humor (unless it's a joke for the toilet humor one)... etc. cause just like for the nsfw scenarios, they can get me in trouble..

pedophilia, zoophilia and necrophilia related drawings

any type of a problematic ship (like parent x child, teacher x student... etc... EW!)

Now that Ah said what I'll draw and not draw again..

here's now some rules and boundaries of the art trades and requests:

don't constantly ask me: "is it done?" "did you start drawing it?" "when will it be done?" cause I'm often slow with requests and art trades, ya can only ask me once, but not constantly cause I find that to be super rude since I'm a teen and a human being..

don't rush me with requests and trades, cause again, I'm sensitive when some rush me, I have feelings aswell and I'm slow with them often like how I said and I wanna do some of my other arts aswell, although the requests and trades are always open...

ya can ask me a request only one or twice a day and one a week, not more, not less..

don't tell me when to do an request or my side of the art trade, like, to tell me in how many minutes or hours or days am I gonna make 'em, cause this is to me and many other artists extremely disrespectful. art takes time, even if some are quick, or slow with it...

ask me for a request of art trade in a very nice and gentle manner, such as saying: "can you" or "please" or "thank you".

don't throw a hissy fit at me if I don't get a request done quickly, I ain't a robot to get it done in a milisecond.

don't be entitled to your requests, just cause I do someone else's request first doesn't mean I forgot about yours or that I won't do yours, ofcourse I'll do it, just be patient. that's the key to everything. patience. and respect.

Ah also know that all of y'all in my big tumblr family will ofcourse follow and respect these rules and boundaries, but this mostly goes to some who are a bit new to my big tumblr family, but Ah ain't tryna attack 'em, I'm just tryna educate 'em on my boundaries and rules~ ❤️🩷

[smahell]

A while ago I found an interesting Reddit thread about the VA’s/ Solmares decision about hiring the obey VA’s

https://www.reddit.com/r/obeyme/s/K8OuEEfdXq

Even though I knew they weren’t popular VA’s or had many/ any works I didn’t think they came from a radio host agency and I’ve been thinking about it for a while ever since

It’s not exactly directly related to the VA’s but what’s your take/ speculation on why Solmare decided to hire VA’s from radio agencies over seiyuu agencies?

I’ve read a bunch of replies on the thread but I think it’d be interesting to have more takes on it

You can answer this only if you’d like to, though! But I’m pretty interested in it and um this is the first blog I think of when I think about asking a question about obey me VA’s (; ´ v `)

thank you so much anon! i'd love to answer your question!

I've seen this thread like, a million times when doing my own personal research about the voice actors, but I don't think I've ever questioned why they got hired in the first place. Finding out that they weren't even professional voice actors in the first place was, well, pretty surprising.. As such lively and entertaining characters they are, I didn't really expect most of them to be invested so much in radio..

However, if you look deeper into some of the voice actors, you can find that some of them (some notable ones include Kada, Sumi and Onishi) have been involved in stage productions and acting! Take a video of Kada Satoshi acting on stage!

(untranslated, of course, but acting doesn't need the boundary of language anyways; look at him go!)

And check this! A video of Sumi and his own acting troupe!

I completely disagree with the statements saying that they were "cheaper to pay" because wouldn't it be just common sense that you should get paid the same as your peers because you're doing the same vocal work? (Besides, I'm not sure how wages should work in Japan but I do think that for the time, skill and patience they deliver behind the microphone that they deserve to get paid as much as even the most prolific voice actors.. they're doing the same work utilizing the same skill...). Most¹ of them have previous experience in stage plays, where many voice actors actually started before moving into individually voice acting.

Genuinely, I think the reason why they got hired is pictured clearly within one of the comments within the thread: people from radio have great voices and big personalities. Watch an episode of Otaku FM, or even Boys in the House, and watch how people from a radio agency can still engage you as much as a regular variety TV show. Listen to how smooth and intertwined segments are, watch how conversation flows so naturally and freely from their microphones and out of your speakers. These are talented people, for god's sake, and I think if you look at them as "cheaper alternatives to the real thing" you are not only discrediting the work that they've done for Obey Me! for past five years, but you view them and their jobs as so replaceable when in fact, if other people voiced these lovable characters, they may have a completely different feel to them. Listen to the TTWF event (fully voice acted, BY THE WAY) and ignore the fact that they may have come from a radio company and watch your favs come to life; it's one of the best for a reason.

Solmare's decision to hire local talents will always ring personally with me as it allowed them to further their careers and build their own personal fanbases.

¹ Yes, Miura Ayme is an outlier, but as is first professional vocal performance Ayme has done an amazing job.

thank you for wanting to hear this ramble, lol... and regarding the end of your ask and being the "first blog I think of when I think about asking a question about obey me vas", i am soooo flattered ^^, i never really thought of myself as the "voice actor guy" but this sort of made my day

^^^^^ like reallyyy made my day :D mini tangent but thank you everyone for your support, i thought i was sorta yelling into the voice with my rambles but jesus christ this blog and the people that surround it make me happy.

[beekeaper]

Watson's adaptations through the adaptations:

First: I believe that all interpretations of the canon are valid, everyone can interpret a work based on what they understand and know. Conan Doyle never denied or confirmed anything, but he allowed us to do whatever we wanted with the characters.

For example, some people interpret H&W's relationship as romantic, others as fraternal, some interpret Holmes and Irene's relationship as romantic, and all of these theories (if I can call them theories) are valid, none are right and none are wrong. Everyone is free to interpret all of the characters' relationships in some way.

Establishing this, that each individual will interpret these characters in a certain way, my analysis is based mainly on the way I interpret these characters and how I understand them.

My entire analysis is based (in some) on the adaptations that I watched and the sample that I decide to use for this analysis is here.

Watson:

One of the biggest flaws in practically ALL adaptations is who Watson is and what his role in the story is. He is a narrator and biographer, has a medical degree, military training and battlefield experience. And most adaptations don't seem to know what to do with him. He is there to inflate Holmes' ego, and follow him around like a puppy dog obeying his master's orders.

As a teacher, my understanding of the psychology of intelligence (focused on education) is that there are multiple intelligences (Howard Gardner), people have different developments, and Holmes being intelligent does not make Watson less intelligent. People have different intelligences, Holmes is intelligent in several areas and in others he is not, and him not being intelligent in some areas does not make him less intelligent. And the same goes for Watson.

How can Watson be adapted as "less intelligent" if he is a trained doctor? It makes no sense.

(very long post)

Watson often seems to stand aside as an outside observer to appreciate Holmes, but many times he does have direct involvement in the story. For example, he is usually the one with the gun when it is needed (and I think Holmes has absolutely no control when he has a gun. STOP SHOOTING THE DOG, IT'S ALREADY DEAD!)

I like to think of Watson as an anthropologist, he likes to observe people and he has an intense curiosity about people. And his main subject of observation is Holmes himself. In the early years he observes Holmes, takes notes about him.

(excerpt from "Study in Scarlet")

As a scientist interested in his new discovery, Watson is fascinated by Holmes, and studies him. He learns Holmes's moods and routines, knows when Holmes needs his alone time, knows when Holmes is in a depressed mood and when he is not. He has studied Holmes closely and understands him like no other character could. And Watson's curiosity about other people is noted throughout the canon. (Not only is he curious about people, but Holmes is too) they love to hear criminals tell their whole story that led them to commit the crimes.

“Tell us all about how you decided to kill those men because of a treasure that you threw into the river” (H&W probably)

In The Hound of the Baskervilles we see how Watson pays attention to people, to the individuals he is living with at that moment, their reactions to certain situations and how these people relate to each other. And I believe that Watson's intelligence lies in how he understands people in their contexts, in a way that perhaps Holmes cannot understand. (I think the ending was more of a headcanon, sorry)

Still, I don't believe that Holmes is completely ignorant about people and society, he clearly deviates from the norms, despite his gentlemanly manners, Holmes is indeed eccentric, he is not very conventional with social norms, but he was never rude or disrespectful.

Including in relation to the misogyny that is sometimes mentioned in the adaptations. Holmes is a product of his time, he declares an aversion to women and believes that their criminal limitations go up to and only to crimes of passion. But he never disrespected his clients and always helped them in a kind manner. Example: The Lone Cyclist and The Adventure of the Veiled Lodger.

Illustration by Sidney Paget, short story “The Solitary Cyclist” (1904)

Another example is his treatment of Violet Hunter. Holmes respects her intelligence and abilities, letting her investigate her own situation with his help. Despite Watson's attempts as a cupid, and Holmes being funny, says that Violet is like a younger sister.

Holmes and Watson complement each other, they are opposites to each other. They may not have each other's intelligence and abilities, but they can make up for it with what each one can offer. An example is “The Blanched Soldier”, ignoring Holmes' accusation that Watson is selfish and “The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife”. Holmes recognizes Watson's absence, especially in this specific case that deals with something so "human", this young man just wants to be close to his dear friend again, whom he hasn't seen in a long time, and Holmes also misses Watson.

But sometimes the whole point is that as social beings that we are, Holmes just needs a friend, maybe there's nothing else behind it. Everyone needs friends. Holmes needs a friend, to sit in front of the fire enjoying each other's company or to walk arm in arm like two men who know each other intimately.

He is easily cast aside as the narrator, everything zeroing in on how Holmes thinks and acts, which puts Watson in a place of stupidity and surprise, neglecting his intelligence and strength.

(by @aregularirregular221b )

There is clearly a lack of understanding of who Watson is in the stories and his role. One of the most famous Watsons is Nigel Bruce's portrayal, and all other adaptations simply adapted that, perpetuating Watson's image as ignorant and stupid. This is when other adaptations want to be different and make a more active Watson, because they don't want to make him seem stupid, since most believe that the stupid Watson is the canon Watson. This has generated prejudice against Watson on the part of the actors, because they don't want to play the fool, the stupid sidekick who can't understand anything Holmes says.

Watson shows surprise not because he is stupid, but because he is FASCINATED, and this is what BBCSH does it right.

Despite the stereotype that Nigel Bruce's Watson perpetuates, his Watson is still intelligent in some episodes when it suits him, and even when he makes mistakes, Holmes doesn't care, at least I don't remember him ever mistreating Watson for getting in the way.

Rathbone Holmes cares so much for his silly Watson THAT HE LET MORIARTY GO. (Spoiler alert) Moriarty tells Holmes that he got Watson, Holmes lets Moriarty go for Watson's safety, and he desperately goes looking for Watson to find out that he was fine THE WHOLE TIME.

Rathbone, who plays Holmes, acts smart, but it’s significantly increased with the stupidity of Watson and Lestrade, making for more boring cases and long movies that only manage to get interesting when it’s just Holmes, usually in danger. There are no intellectual threats other than Moriarty, and it’s completely debatable if he even works, because Holmes gets himself into stupid, rash, and absolutely ridiculous situations, clearly proving that implied intelligence is very dependent on Watson’s character.

(by @aregularirregular221b )

In “Murder By Decree” (1979) with Christopher Plummer and James Mason, Mason only accepted the role if his Watson could be intelligent, his Watson has an active participation in the case, which draws sighs and loving eyes from Holmes.

And yes, he looks at Watson like that the entire film.

The 2000-2002 films starring Matt Frewer and Kenneth Welsh follow a similar approach, placing Watson more actively in the investigations. “Шерлок Холмс” (2013) tries again to change Watson’s approach. Here Watson demonstrates more of his military and medical side. He is the protagonist narrating the fictional story of a Holmes who does not exist, while the real Holmes he lives with, is completely different from the actual canon. Of course, adaptations such as “Granada Holmes” with David Burke and later Edward Hardwicke as Watson and “Soviet Holmes” with Witali Solomin, are some of the few adaptations that remain faithful to the canon (not 100%). These adaptations manage to get closer to the canon image of Watson. I like all three interpretations, but I think the Soviet version brings out Watson’s youthful softness and curiosity better than the Granada version. And “The Great Mouse Detective” deserves some consideration, its Watson is adorable, despite being silly and clumsy many times.

It is quite notable in the adaptations the position of Watson as practically useless in the plot where many times he really does nothing except be there surrounded by Holmes and to complete his image. You can even forget that Watson was there. Just a sidekick. 

If shown a picture of a deerstalker coupled with a pipe that had blue smoke curling up from the small cup where the tobacco rested, a majority of the population would easily shout, “Sherlock Holmes!” However, if they were shown a picture of the Afghan War and medical supplies, only a couple of people would raise their voices and reply, “Oh, John Watson!” As much as the beloved companion of Sherlock Holmes is seen and discussed, there is no doubt that he is overshadowed greatly by the detective himself, nor is there any surprise.

(by @aregularirregular221b )

In the 2001 film “A Case of Evil”, Watson works in the morgue, which seems like an attempt to bring Watson’s profession closer to Holmes’ and make Watson a more active part of the investigation, which is interesting, but this film is not that good. 

Other adaptations that I like their versions of Watson and that I can still see the image of a Watson similar to the canon are the two versions produced by Sherldon Reynolds, “Howard Holmes” (1954) with Howard Marion-Crawford as Watson and “Whitehead Holmes” (1980) with Donald Pickering. While in the first version Watson is almost paternal with a childish (bratt) and playful Holmes, having to make sure that his Holmes doesn't eat poison by mistake or end up provoking the police. While the 80s version has a more serious tone than the previous one, the H&W dynamic changes a bit too, Watson is serious (and very elegant btw) and at times is the person with the most knowledge in addition to developing his own investigative capabilities, even if he made a mistake and Holmes is not a secret criminal.

A good adaptation of Watson also needs a good adaptation of Holmes to make sense. Like the versions by Douglas Wilmer and Peter Cushing with their shared Watson by Nigel Stock, or another example, Thorley Walter was Watson to three different Holmeses, Cushing Holmes (in 1984) has a good Watson, but Christopher Lee (in 1990-1991) is a Watson who is almost irrelevant to the plot.)

I also can't help but not to mention Jude Law's Watson, he sometimes seems to be very angry or perhaps resentful of Holmes, he is a Watson with a more military posture, we see his medical skills and his attempts at deduction, which fit well with the dynamic with RDJ Holmes who is probably one of the most eccentric Holmeses and needs a more down-to-earth and firm Watson. (Am I the only one, or does anyone else also think that Jude Law is the closest I can imagine to the canon Watson in appearance.)

And we also have the interesting adaptation of “Sherlock Gnomes” that puts Watson in a position of injustice, he feels left out, and I honestly think it’s an interesting approach, a different plot than usual, and it’s always good to explore different stories with these characters. But again, Holmes would never do that, he would never leave Watson aside like in the movie and much less would he be so disrespectful to Watson. In the end he understands and apologizes, it’s sweet, but canon Holmes would never allow it to get to that situation.

Many adaptations fail in Holmes and Watson dynamic, where Watson is disposable, replaceable, and again, almost useless in the plot, and constantly disrespected for his intelligence in the story. And as an example of a bad adaptation of their dynamic, there’s Ian Hart’s Watson in the 2002 movie “The Hound of The Baskervilles”, he hates his Holmes.

As much is known that no adaptation has to be 100% faithful to the book, but it would be good to still see the original character in the adaptations. Many put "the spirit of the book", Doyle was a spiritualist and I don't think even he could see the spirit of the book in some adaptations.

The characters become so unrecognizable that changing their names wouldn't make a difference because it's not Holmes and it's not Watson. And that's my biggest problem with the CBS series Watson. Who is he? Where is Watson? The series manages to establish a good dynamic with a non-existent Holmes. Watson has no problem saying how much he misses Holmes and loves him, Mary even repeats several times how Watson preferred to leave her, his own wife, to be with Holmes, she even says "What you needed was in London".

CBW Watson seems to want to answer: “who Watson is without Holmes?”. And yet, it fails. (Or not, they need each other)

It seems that H&W has a good dynamic, but we don't know this Holmes and this Watson is unrecognizable. The movie “Empire of Corpses” (2015) suffers a bit from the same CBS Watson situation. I’m not sure if I see Watson there, but it’s an interesting story. Following Victor Frankenstein’s research, Watson wants to bring his brother back to life.

And then there’s the second problem with adaptations, which, in addition to considering Watson useless in the plot, there are several adaptations where Watson doesn’t exist, and even worse, they consider his participation in the story replaceable. Often placing random characters who fit the role of Watson. Watson becomes the mere narrator, our point of view, and this point of view can change depending on who is by Holmes’ side. (And I hate all the adaptations that do this.

Most of the adaptations that remove Watson are animations and episodes in other series that make references ONLY to Holmes and ignore Watson or make some joke about Watson being stupid. Watson is replaced by dogs, protagonists from other franchises (who often play a “Smarter than Watson” role), daughters, sisters, love interests, or even Moriarty).

Watson is either stupid or discarded.

Adaptations that follow this model: “Sherlock In Russia” (2020), “Sherlock and Daughter” (2025), “Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century” (1999), “Sherlock in the 23rd Century” (1988), “The Return of Sherlock Holmes” (1987), “Baker Street: Sherlock Holmes Returns" (1994), “Shirley Holmes” (1997), “Granada Young Sherlock: The Mystery of the Manor House” (1982).

In “Without a Clue” (my favorite movie), there is a unique approach. Here Watson is the real Sherlock Holmes, the stories he wrote are the cases he solved himself, and Holmes is a hired actor, this movie is a masterpiece. It is a good mix of Watson's personality with Holmes' skills and mannerisms, it is fascinating. And with a cast with Ben Kingsley and Michael Caine. I even consider it in a way a tribute(?) - to Conan Doyle, who often had his own intelligence doubted, to his very intelligent creation. People forget that HE is the one who writes everything.

And again, BBCSH in the crime scene creates a brand new image for Watson for the modern era, for those who don't know Martin Freeman had not read the books before the series and started with Nigel Bruce Watson. (It is written in the editions of the book where the actors and producers of BBCSH wrote introductions).

(honestly I am the worst person to talk about BBCSH nowadays, I haven't watched it since 2017 (if you know you know) and well, my relationship with BBC Sherlock is not good anymore)

The big problem here is their whole dynamic, Sherlock and John do not respect each other. Sherlock doesn't respect John's boundaries, he doesn't apologize for anything, and John often lets his anger get the better of him.

I don't think it's a good adaptation, transforming the relationship and H&W dynamics into something so violent. No other adaptation has even one scene where Holmes or Watson deliberately attack each other, not as a joke, not for a case. Not ever. John is probably the worst adaptation of Dr. Watson. And that's not just because of the events of season four. It's because of the whole thing. Their dynamic degrades as the series goes on, John doubts Sherlock's abilities and stops trusting him. Where is Watson's loyalty?

But it was fun.

I can't help but mention Sherlock & Co., this Watson is very unique, he's very modern (not a bad thing), I can imagine that Watson's reputation makes him seem like a very sociable character, and I find it interesting how they made Watson SO MODERN compared to Pod!Holmes who speaks very similar to the canon. It seems like they put canon Holmes with the most modern Watson in the world.

Other adaptations that need to be mentioned are Colin Blakely's Watson from “Private Life of Sherlock Holmes”, his role in the film is also silly and kind of stupid, he borders on ignorance and is one of the bad Watsons.

We also have Royce Pierreson Watson from “Netflix’s Irregulars” (2021), again they try a different approach, but here Watson actually takes on the role of Holmes, the H&W dynamic doesn't work well either, despite the explicit statement that Watson loves Holmes and has taken care of him for years, this Holmes clearly doesn't care that much about Watson. Another different dynamic is Takanori Iwata's Watson from “Sherlock Untold Stories”, he is a psychologist and actively participates in the investigations with his Holmes (Shishio), but again Watson is unrecognizable here.

I could even mention Wilson here, but his importance in the plot is limited to how House needs him.

And I left the one that impresses me the most for last. Is it faithful to the book? Far from it, but it manages to convey what other adaptations fail to do. Lucy Liu's Watson is as important to the series as Watson is in the book. She is the foundation. Unlike other adaptations that are always trying to overcome an image of Watson that doesn't exist, Elementary, even though it changes many aspects of Watson's story, manages to show the importance that Watson has, especially for Holmes. Elementary Watson is not an extension of Holmes, she has her own plot, but that doesn't make their dynamic so separate. They orbit each other (Holmes says so), even though they are independent of each other's plots, they complement each other. Watson demonstrates her intelligence and complements Holmes's and vice versa. Holmes teaches her his methods, and Watson is a detective just like Holmes, she is part of the investigative process. There is an equality between them. 

Of all the adaptations, of all the attempts to make Watson better than his original counterpart, to make him more relevant in the story under the false premise of doing justice for him. Elementary adapts the relationship between Holmes and Watson and their companionship in a beautiful and well-developed way over the course of seven seasons. Because Holmes and Watson are the heart of the story, they are the protagonists together, the books are about them and the people they help. And Elementary manages to synthesize this wonderfully. They respect and help each other. I just love them.

And just like in the book, where Holmes is willing to kill for Watson, and Watson is willing to commit a crime for a good cause alongside Holmes, where the displays of affection and how they care for each other are CLEAR in the book. And mainly the love they have for each other, regardless of whether you interpret this love as romantic, platonic, friendship or brotherly, Holmes and Watson love each other, and Elementary manages to convey this perfectly.

In conclusion, I think no adaptation has managed to make Watson as he in the canon, and we have so many Wastons that it is difficult to recognize him most of the time, and if he is not next to Holmes, we will not see him.

Honorable mentions to Ian Fleming's Watson, who is almost the damsel in distress to Arthur Wontner's Holmes, to Watson from “Dr. Watson and the Darkwater Hall Mystery” (1974) who solves a case alone and takes advantage of his reputation on three continents, and lastly, and which everyone should watch, I will not give spoilers, “Shekhar Home” (2024), probably one of the most unexpected stories for Watson.

Extra: Why do most adaptations place Watson SO much older than Holmes? Watson is between two years younger than Holmes or at most three years older than Holmes. John Hamish Watson has a reputation on three continents, WATSON IS THE HOT ONE, NOT HOLMES.

BE KIND when responding.

Special thanks to @aregularirregular221b for letting me read and quote her essay, it was inspiring, and helped me finally finish writing my own essay!

_____________

Personal sources:

Giant List of Sherlock Holmes Adaptations

Sampling Watson Adaptations

H&W actors

References:

Sherlock Holmes Canon

Conan Doyle Encyclopedia

[alllgator-blood]

I need to ask, because of it I CAN'T SLEEP AT NIGHT.

How do you make, not only long comics, but also VERY FAST. Like- I read one part that has 2/3 like pictures and then next day are again 2 or 3 and I'm like grabing my head and just screaming HOW??? (Also these comics are very yummy and I feel like getting stabbed after each one but in a good way cuz I like being stabbed (Kallamar got a bit too relatable in that one comic 💔))

THAT'S REALLY IMPRESSIVE AND ALSO SHOCKING FOR ME. Like- what is your secret??? 🤨🤨🤨

HAHAHA OH GOD I DID NOT THINK I WAS VERY FAST BUT- I'll try to do a list of tips I thought of off the top of my head, in case any of these help you or anyone else??? I try to not gatekeep anything I do because I think the world needs more comics honestly, so I tend to ramble a lot when giving advice.

click the read more to unleash many paragraphs of tips:

Okay these tips aren't 100% about being fast but also being efficient/keeping a good pace, I hope that's okay!

1: Originally the first tip was "draw every day even if only a little bit, so you don't lose steam" but I'm sure everyone has said that at some point. So I'll just say I Pavlov myself into drawing better by having little "rituals". Liiike...the only time I have energy drinks is when I draw. Or the only time I light candles is when I draw. I have specific songs I put on when I START drawing to get me into the Zone. I find that when certain circumstances are met, it helps the time fly by 'cause I stay focused enough to keep a steady pace. After a while of doing those things when you start drawing for the day, it tricks the brain into going "oh shit, we're drawing now? aight bet" and then you just. Go

2: SETTING DEADLINES FOR SURE HELPS. It's definitely nice hearing from people that there's no Real Pressure on me when I post comics...for free...of characters I have no obligation to draw...just for the enjoyment of doing it. BUT I work best when I have a fire lit under my ass, so I set deadlines like "I need to post this on saturday/sunday at noon so the algorithm will actually let people read this comic". I usually slip those into a description so it's a very casual announcement and I feel okay with postponing it if necessary, rather than making a text post like "NEW COMIC SATURDAY!!1" and then feeling terrible if I can't finish it in time. Lmao

3: I just fuckin GO when I make a draft. Like for this new comic I'm working on, I just sat down and started drawing like the world was gonna end; there's a lot of panels with very off model characters/wonky anatomy because I just wanted to sketch enough for future me to get the idea. I try not to look back on my progress for any reason besides continuity, because then I see how long the comic's getting and I sweat bullets. Literally so many comics have been ditched because I got spooked thinking about how hard it'd be to finish them. So if you just shut your brain off and don't think about the technicalities of it, just keeping mind the story you want to tell- it's SO much easier to complete. Breaking comics into parts is ABSOLUTELY necessary for completion :')

4: Maybe the most important piece of advice I learned from a published comic artist, is that people are gonna look at your comic panels for an average of like 10-20 seconds and will move on to the next. You don't wanna spend hours on a single panel that basically only exists to convey a tiny bit of the plot. So I like to draw just *enough* to convey the general environment/mood, but not feel obliged to put in a million little extra details. I really hate doing backgrounds but my art, to me, feels incomplete without them. So I'll add like PART of a room or a general Nature area just to say hey, this takes place in the temple/outside/whatever! As long as your story is engaging and the pacing is comfortable, I don't think people will mind (or notice) if you take shortcuts.

5: I listen to specific things to help maintain a good speed while not being distracting or understimulating. During the sketch stage, I usually have something slow/instrumental going so I can focus on the little movie that plays in my head and draw what I feel like a scene would look like. It also helps not distract me from what they're saying. For tasks like lining/coming up with color schemes/reworking dialogue, I have something more stimulating playing but not like distracting, so a video essay I've already watched or fast music I already heard a lot of times. THEN for the absolute fucking slog that is the coloring stage, I blast shitty breakcore or put on an actually interesting video so I can zone out while I click my mouse ten billion times to fill in all the colors >:)

Basically, comics are funny to me because it's like a frantic fucking race to the finish line before your motivation completely abandons you. There's been a few comics where I was ABSOLUTELY sick of even looking at them, I think it was specifically "in little ways, everything stays" where the comic itself is sweet and inoffensive but OMFG. I WAS SO TIRED OF DRAWING GRASS AND REWORKING DIALOGUE. KALLAMAR AND LESHY JUST HUG IT OUT ALREADY SO I CAN STOP DRAWING.

This post probably reads like "I HATE COMICS!! I HALF ASS THEM TO GET THROUGH!!" but I really do love making them and it's kinda the only thing I like doing nowadays, so the other aspect of why I get them done fast comparatively is just that it's what I spend all my free time doing. Some comics take weeks of me working on them daily to finish them, because working on them is my main coping skill rn so it always feels worth doing. I know it can't last forever so I try to just get as many stories as I can out before my circumstances change! Maybe don't be motivated by fear of the future though. Just do these because it's fun and people love reading your comics :') I KNOW I DO

In any case- here are the lines for the beginning of the new comic, I KNOW you love the funny squid so here's mine as a kid flexing on narinder for being able to summon his crown weapon:

[ladymirdan]

A lot of Warhammer characters come across as autistic or neurodivergent and in some cases that is very intentional. ADB has talked in length about his choice to make space marines autistic as a way to make that “human but not part of humanity”-feeling about them more relatable.

But in many cases I think the reason why they feel that way is by accident. The writers are only writing what they know. I mean, for most of its running time 40k wasn't “cool”, it was a hobby for for guys who were really into alternate history and math.. And yeah 😅

sooooo I'm just started to. yk. learn lore and stuff. but this far I can surely tell that all the primarchs are fueled by autism in their own unique ways

[chthonic-cassandra]

hello! i have a somewhat nebulous rec request, if you so desire. recently i’ve read and enjoyed a lot of samuel delany’s scifi, which i’ve also seen you talk about. do you have any recs for other books/authors that remind you of delany (in any way)? thank you!

This is a wonderful request and also a difficult one - there's no one out there quite like Delany! But I gave it some thought (and brainstormed with my partner) and have some suggestions, from different angles.

Going to be bold and start out saying that I think Delany is very much in dialogue with James Joyce, particularly Ulysses.

In a related vein, Herman Melville was my partner's suggestion, and though that didn't occur to me initially I think he's right

Going back to the world of SFF, C. J. Cherryh is pretty opposite to Delany stylistically, but shares his engagement with the question of the space proletariat. I think they are often approaching related material from opposite directions

Gene Wolfe is an author I have an ambivalent relationship with myself, but he's definitely in dialogue with Delany in a certain kind of density of narrating perception? Not sure how to better articulate this. He does not, however, share Delany's luminously clear ethical frame in his fiction

Michael Swanwick has a certain kind of whimsy which is not Delany, but there's something that feels related especially to Delany's earliest SFF novels

Vonda McIntyre's Dreamsnake bears some clear marks of Delany's influence as a teacher and is also delightful

some of Angela Carter's earlier work (Several Perceptions, Shadow Dance, Heroes and Villains) feels connected on a sort of a tangent

Marlon James is one of the few contemporary novelists working now who has much as stylistic control and audacity as Delany and I will stand by that statement

Indra Das' The Devourers is a novel which could only have been written in a world in which Delany's fiction already existed!

Seth Dickinson's Masquerade series (The Traitor Baru Cormorant and following) could in some ways be described as an exegesis of what happens when you pull on the thread of a certain economic question in Delany's Nevérÿon series, though in many ways the books are nothing like any of Delany's

Rosemary Kirstein's Steerswoman series is even less like Delany's work in other ways but she also does the incredible thing which Delany does so well of just straight up stopping the plot to let a character think, and have a revelation about thought itself

people who like Delany should probably read Tiptree but that's not really because of the work being similar

[rdthoughtdaughter]

Hello! I am basically asking here what YouTubers or female created media is out there that you recommend? I am tired of media just being pain/death/torture of a female character or like with popular female/youtubers streamers having constant sexual and pornified jokes or even having to deal with misogyny or the same issues in female written books. Is there any way to avoid it/do you have recs? Sorry if my question is convoluted I have headache at the moment

Hello! Do not apologise for your question, I found it delightful. That’s actually a great topic to speak on. Ok, so I will share my media consumption, but to all fellow radfems watching, please share yours as well! I would love recommendations.

Starting with YouTube. Can’t say that I’m an avid watcher, but there are some female channels that I follow & watch:

1) Emmy’s Existential Zone. It’s a ‘renowned philosopher and psychologist who has worked as an existential therapist since 1973’. What I like about her videos is that they are always colourful, often with natural setting. She talks about life in a very simple yet striking language. Also, it’s just great to see women aging naturally and gracefully ;)

2) Leah’s Fieldnotes. A little bit of everything, vlogs, ramblings, skincare, art. Love Leah 🫶🏼🙌🏼

3) The CottageFairy. I’m very passionate about nature, so I found the content of this lovely woman immersive. To live so in tune with nature is my goal in life.

4) Dr Octavia Cox. An educational content, literature related. Found her when I was preparing to A Levels, she is great. Dr Cox makes her videos on some specific topics from a particular book. I love the category of videos where she explores the riddles from the books. For example, I was always curious on why did Mr Wickham elope with Lydia, when she was penniless, he always had grand ambitions of becoming an Alfons. She explored it in detail with quotes, in a very engaging manner. Look her up!

5) maleeka, is my guardian angel. She shares her life lessons, I suppose it’s a philosophy type of content. She has a very pleasing storytelling skills and she is a talented editor, or to be honest, she’s just talented period. I find it more befitting for me, than say wizardliz. Because of her I have a favourite quote :«You are the sky. Everything else- it’s just the weather” -Peña Chiödrön

6) Inayah. An endearing woman, who speaks about most poignant of the matters. Always a fascinating setting, love when she talks while working on flowers. She’s very outspoken and has a great vocabulary. Love her.

7)LabrysArchive. Made by a legendary radfem, it’s a project where you can see the most different archive videos on radical feminism. Doing the goddesses’ work.

I was also a huge fan of Sophia Esperanza, she was sharing spiritual videos about self acceptance and living with nature. Unfortunately, she deleted her videos for some reason :(

Regarding books, I personally love everything made by Jane Austen. Besides her books being absolutely brilliantly written, I’m also always amazed by the context of her books as well. To write so many interesting, free thinking women at that time? In 18th-19th century? A role model.

If you want to find a pool of feminist literature, or just female literature I recommend ladielabrys2’ linktree, she has a radical feminist library, with all kinds of topics. <3