#need to figure out how to prevent/fight that twist...

[simply-sithel]

Feeling like I need to try harder to post here a bit more. For my own sake. Undocumented projects are bound to be forgotten and being reminded of past works brings joy.

Tried to frame today as a "do whatever I want" day-- and apparently what I want is bookbinding. And tablet weaving, which has haunted me since @marvinhere started making it look so fun/interesting/full of potential. Have been feeling the itch of a new interest really start to bubble forth lately - have woven two bands so far and this is my third.

Of course bookbind can lovingly absorb such labors/interests. @chubsonthemoon's bookcloth is such a beautiful and inspiring piece, have been looking for a way to similarly slam these two interests together like a toddler with a pair of pots.

Minis are my MO and I've been long on the lookout for sufficiently tiny bookmarks (most ribbons being comically large when incorporated) -- I have also been interested in testing out a 2 (rather than 4) hole card/weave.

Thankfully stoned me last night, when pulling the thread needed for sewing the textblock, had an absurdly long excess when done... Which made me realize I could just weave the bookmark directly into the textblock (and anchor the rest of the warp by just looping it around the kettle stitches)

Saturday crafting in the sun- you can see the shadow of the binder clip I use to anchor the ends. Book is in tiny press and tiny press is in lap, allowing me to apply tension while also weaving off to the side (am still struggling with posture/form - I do not want/like to anchor it to my waist)

Having a good time. Brewing up more combo ideas...

[idontcare4urmom]

𝑊𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑀𝑂𝑈𝑇𝐻 || Chris sturniolo

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: you make the terrible mistake of quip referring to your ex’s name and behaviour during an argument with your boyfriend Chris,leading to things taking a wild twist when his possessive impulses take over.

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠: yelling and cursing,smut,unprotected and rough sex,clit playing,fingering,orgasming multiple times,pet names,dirty talk,praising,degradation,hair yanking,spanking,overstimulation,etc.

𝑎／𝑛: my first language is not english,sorry for any mistakes.

you heavily huff out a breath out from your nose while standing there,dealing with his yelling and complaining once again.the reasonings of your arguments lately kept getting more and more ridiculous to be honest,yet you weren’t able to prevent them anymore.

“i told you plenty amount of times Chris,it wasn’t my fucking fault that i had to cancel,my mom neede-“

“ugh i am tired of this! always the same bullshit excuse,it’s the third one you are doing this in a month” he shouted out abruptly,instantly regretting it once he observed the way your jaw clenched along with your eyes holding back the bawling.

he was genuinely about to apologize after he softly sighed,reaching out for your shoulder but for you to just snap backwards,he was caught off guard by the action,however it was what you mumbled next that pissed him off frantically.

“fuck off,James would never had treated me that way,he would understand”

oh Chris could sense his blood boil as soon as that sentence came out of your lips,his fists automatically closing into his sides with his pupils taking over a menacing gleam that popped out raw frustration.

he despises nothing more but that man,especially since he was aware of how head over heels you used to be for him a year ago.

disbelief slowly crosses over your features when he somehow answers calmly,a vigorously edge drizzling his voice “watch your mouth pretty girl,we all know that i treat you way better than he did”

your stubbornness inched to deny,to fight back,although an other part of you wanted to play safe,sending him a piercing glare and then staying completely silent,letting the quietness hang over the air until he broke it himself.

“you are not really helping yourself out sweetheart” it was obvious that he was mentally referring at your lack of response,stepping impossible close to you so he can with a light shove launch you on the mattress of your bed,

he immediately hovered above your figure,both of his legs encircling your sides before he began to undress you,making sure to take purposefully brush your skin in whatever chance,and you were more than surprised by the suddenness of his gestures.

“what are you-“

now it was his turn to not reply,greedily discarding to the floor any fabric that covers you up and leaving you in just your thong on,causing you to squirm as air bubbles the peel of your body.about to speak up,he withdrew that opportunity by smashing down his lips to your’s,kissing you with a passionate fever.

the contact was additionally excessive and demanding,making you touch starved as his mouth coated your's blissfully,his palms strolling down on your skin to land on the curve of your ass,gropping it in between his fingers before giving it a firm slap,stumulating a soft gasp from you.

there wasn't any second to protest,him already flipped over on your stomach with him positioned against you from behind.you could sensate the numbness on the fabric of your underwear curating your warm heat while his hand grounded down on your delicate buttocks again and again,only dragging out lewd whimpers for a response.

"aw what's wrong baby? too sensitive to handle this? sould have thought about that earlier" he cooed mockingly,his free index finger polling under your panties,tugging them down and teasing his touch everywhere but on your center that was practically begging for relief.

a muffled sinister snicker escaped him when your hips rolled high,desperately yet silently pulsating for more.

"not so fast baby,now tell me first..was James able to get you like this? all whiney from just a little spanking as if you are a whore in heat?"

his words for some reason only fuelled your desire further,especially from the tone of absolute disgust dripping from his lips at the mention of your past partner.

you managed to only high pitch a “no” that cracked into a moan of ecstasy when he finally started rubbing your drenched bud and clit rhythmically,pinching it at the edge of his curvy digit.

you scratched furiously the surface of the headboard that was tangled within your hands,your head interred on the soft layer of pillow as your boyfriend continued to pleasure you,sending jolts of shivering through your entire body.

his experienced tongue darted to loop at the nape of your neck and collarbone,choking out a strained moan once the roots of your hair were pulled backwards,angling the perfect length of exposed skin “Chris- “mhm,i know baby don’t worry,you can take it”

you shallowed the lump that formed on your throat as he repeatedly draw patterns of bite nibbling on you,his ring and pinky finger inserting around your entrance before unexpectedly slipping inside,coaxing from you a gasp “oh fuck!”

“that’s it baby,have to stretch your out really fast,gotta prepare you for my dick later,okay?” you just nodded,drowning at the nirvana you were receiving while he pumped and curled smoothly his fingertips on your insides,hugging all the right spots perfectly.

you clasped the sheets below you since you felt your upcoming orgasm rising fast,the uncomfortable tight pressure on your lower abdomen causing you to clench around his hand and without a warning erupt into busts of cum that glistened your legs with arousal.

he didn’t wasted any second to haul off his jeans along with his boxers in one movement,wrathfully stroking the overwhelmed bulge of his leaking head while roaming his gaze at the sight in front of him,you being already fucked out,

he aligned himself at your opening,his chest squeezing your spine as he effortlessly and powerfully thrusted in your hole,eliciting a groan from the both of you.still affected for your previous release though,you mumbled a follow of curses “shit Chris,’m sensitive”

“shh baby,you will be fine i promise,you just have to do what you know the best for a few minutes,managing my cock like a good whore” he murmured soothingly yet demandingly,his hips swirling forward in a newfound pace and warmth that made your head spin.

the “few minutes” was totally a lie to say the least,cause after the multiple rounds you couldn’t even count anymore how many times you came undone around his length,your vision blurry with tears dropping down your cheeks.

the only possible hunch you could currently store in your memory was his every vein and muscle pulsing in your sweet spot with no mercy,the noise of skin to skin clapping together with mixed gasps and mewls resonating nonstop.

“t-too much!” you sobbed out once he increased the speed of his pounding at the same time his mouth wrapped around your perky nipple,his teeth gently twisting the flesh.

completely vulnerable and at his mercy,he finally stopped when he decided that you actually had enough,lazily pushing back and forth for a last time before his seed overflowed you entirely like a wave for the fourth(?) time.

the soreness and pain you felt when he pulled out from your pussy was not able to be described,but at the same time,there was no doubt about this being your best ever sex session with him.

and you also were now sure for one “lesson” : to never test Chris’ limits again

——————————————

ehhh i finally ended this i hope you guys like it cause i don’t want to disappoint you 🥹🫶🏻

tags!: @sleepysturniolo @muwapsturniolo @bratty-eliana44 @verywonderlandpolice @2muchofaslvt @sophiaxsblog @cayleeuhithinknot @yourfavg1nger @lianomer @joemamaaa42069 @chrispotatos @bagsbyclair0 @xprakzif @wiidfi0wer33 @zainabthescientist @freakbob15 @cutiepaiquill @buckys-goodgirl @chrisstvrns @fakeesyd

i lowkey wanna make an official taglist but i am scared that no one will want to be on it fr

[dragonkeeper19600]

The Batter Is One of My Favorite Video Game Protagonists Ever

News of the upcoming remake recently got me back into OFF, and as I played through the game for the first time in years, I was struck anew by just how great a character the Batter is.

Not just for his role in the subversive meta-narrative, which was fairly new in video games at the time, but also for really being just a really nuanced and fascinating character.

Now, even knowing the twist and the way the game ends, it might be tempting to write off the Batter as a one-note character, like, "Oh, he's just an uncaring thug who wants to kill everyone," but no, I think that's a very shallow read. The Batter has a lot of depth if you take the time to really look.

So, because I've been chomping at the bit to gush about my favorite character, let's go down a list of some of the character traits that make the Batter great.

1. Doesn't Give a Fuck...or Does He?

Years ago, there was a post on Tumblr (that I won't even try to find now) that said of the Batter, "Man, this guy just does not give a fuck," featuring a bunch of screenshots of him saying things like this:

Don't get me wrong, his terseness and lack of reaction to some of the game's most outrageous or even harrowing moments is hilarious in a kind of black comedy way, but to imply that the Batter doesn't care about anything is inaccurate.

For one thing, he drops the blunt speaking style and becomes very eloquent and even passionate when confronting those he sees as "impure."

That the game acknowledges him to be a figure controlled by a player by no means necessitates that he's merely an automaton, passionlessly following orders. He's devoted himself to his mission with the zeal of a fanatic. He fervently believes that he is right and just and that anyone who opposes him must be cut down for the greater good.

Confronting what he perceives to be evil is the most surefire way to loosen his tongue and get him fired up, which brings me to my next point:

2. Has a Strong Moral Center...Too Strong

The Batter's main goal may be to wipe out every living thing in this world, including all of the Elsens, but that doesn't mean he's indifferent to the Elsens' suffering. Far from it. He's actually deeply offended by their mistreatment.

In Zone 1, the Batter decides that Dedan is hostile and must be destroyed before Dedan has even had the chance to interact with him, meaning that Dedan being hostile to the Elsen is what made the Batter decide he has to die.

He also conveys a sense of urgency during the timed mission in Zone 2, as though urged by the sight of the Elsens in immediate danger. I don't remember his exact dialogue if you run out of time during this part, but I recall him saying something like, "We're too late..." which (if I'm remembering the line correctly) would show that he's motivated not just by a bloodlust for the Specters but by the need to save the Elsens' lives.

However, what makes this morality disturbing instead of redeeming is its lack of two things: empathy and nuance. While the Batter is able to understand that people being killed or mistreated or abused is bad, he isn't capable of empathizing with the victims. The knowledge that the people he's fighting so hard to save in Zone 2 are going to end up being killed anyway once he purifies Japhet doesn't give him pause for an instant. The inherent dissonance in that is beyond his ability to comprehend. He's so self-righteous that he sees each of his actions as good, even if they result in the same outcome for a particular individual as something he's trying to prevent. In simpler terms: When a Specter kills someone, it's bad and evil. When the Batter kills someone (even if it's the same damn person), it is right and just.

The lack of nuance in the Batter's moral compass manifests as a very simple worldview: Everything that is evil must be destroyed. This philosophy is key to the game's satire of morality in video games, where evil deeds and creatures are swiftly and violently punished by the main character, usually with death. By sticking to this worldview, the Batter is ignoring the nuance of the setting he's actually in. The Elsens whose mistreatment he's so outraged by don't want him to kill their leaders, and they don't want to be killed by the Batter anymore than they want to be killed by the Specters. But the Batter is so set in his worldview that he isn't willing to adjust. If the Zones operate in a way that he deems to be evil, then they too are inherently evil and must be destroyed. This chain of logic is taken to its natural conclusion when the Batter annihilates the whole world because, yeah, that's really the only way to eliminate evil, isn't it?

It may be tempting at this point to say that the Batter doesn't care about anything except his mission and punishing evildoers, but even that is oversimplifying the character.

3. Surprisingly Human

Mortis Ghost has very clearly stated that the Batter is not human, and I believe him. (Why wouldn't I? It's his game.) That being said, some of the ways the Batter reacts to the things he encounters strike me as surprisingly human.

It isn't true that the Batter doesn't care about anything outside of the mission. There is quite a lot that he doesn't care about, but he's also capable of forming opinions that have nothing to do with the mission. If you look out one of the windows in Zone 0, the Batter will say, "I think it's a nice day out," which is a line that really surprised me when I first found out about it because it's the only time I can think of where the Batter makes a positive comment about something.

There's also the way he insists on sitting in the front seat of the rollercoaster and always puts his arms in the air while on the incline. He's not obeying you when he does these things; he refuses to get on the coaster if you try to make him sit anywhere but the front, and there's no button prompt or anything to make him put his arms in the air; he just does it.

I also love his reaction to the "Panic in Ballville!" comic in the Room.

Not only is he decidedly unimpressed with this comic, he also refuses to read it again if you try to make him. Whether he realizes the implications of his own resemblance to the villain in the comic is unclear, but his refusal to even look at it again means that he might. Regardless, moments like these show that the Batter is more than just a single-minded puppet. He does have opinions and won't hesitate to put his foot down if you try to make him do something he doesn't want to do.

He's even capable of being taken aback, as Enoch's dialogue about the Specters being the souls of the dead appears to give him pause.

That brief moment is the only one in the game where the Batter shows any sign of hesitancy or uncertainty in what he's doing. He was very convinced up until this point that the Guardians were controlling the Specters (despite Dedan accusing him of the same thing in Zone 1). Not only that, but he's never taken the time to think about what the Specters actually are. I kind of interpret this as a rare introspective moment from the Batter, where he begins to realize there might be aspects of this situation and what he's doing that he hasn't considered.

However, he quickly recovers from this moment of doubt and hardens his resolve to eliminate Enoch because of his...

4. Unshakeable Faith...But in What?

A lot of the language the Batter uses to describe himself and his mission contains a lot of religious overtones, with adjectives like "holy," "sacred," "righteous," etc. His perception of his himself matches with portrayals in the Old Testament of God as a punisher of evil and a smiter of the wicked.

I don't think I need to list all the references to Christianity throughout the entire game because that would take way, way too long. Needless to say, everyone has noticed the religious motif in this game, and when an Elsen in Zone 1 straight up asks the Batter if he's religious, he doesn't deny it.

However, I don't think it would be quite right to call the Batter a Christian. While he uses a lot of language that's reminiscent of Christianity, his dialogue doesn't contain any references to specifically Christian practices or beliefs, such as Jesus, the Bible, the saints, angels, baptism, the Resurrection, etc., etc. The Batter may have devoted himself to his mission with a religious zeal, but is the mission alone all he worships? The kind of faith he exhibits is usually that associated with a deity.

Identifying the "who" at the center of the Batter's worship is not easy. When the same Elsen from Zone 1 asks who sent him, the Batter straight up says, "Nobody." I've seen it suggested that the deity the Batter "worships" may actually be the player, but I don't think that's right either, since he's pretty quick to turn on you, without any sign of hesitation or angst, if you side with the Judge in the final boss fight.

But I have another theory. If we're still using Christianity as a reference, then the Batter would presumably be worshipping some sort of creator deity. Who is the Batter's creator?

When the Batter meets the Queen, she tells him to go back home. His response?

He outright refers to Hugo as his father. As you may recall, "Father," is one of the aspects of the Trinity (Father, Son, Holy Ghost.) The Father is God the Creator, God the Progenitor, God the Origin of the World. This, I believe, is how the Batter sees Hugo.

Remember how the Queen attacks the Batter by saying, "You don't even know his first name"? Could that be because the Batter only knows Hugo as "Father" and not any other name?

This revelation becomes even more enlightening (and disturbing) when you take these lines into consideration:

What does the Batter see as the Queen's only important role? To care for Hugo. Why does the Batter feel compelled to complete his mission? Because of Hugo. Why did he come all this way? To see Hugo. Where is his home? With Hugo. Everything is for Hugo.

That the main goal of his mission is to kill Hugo fits the mold in a twisted way. After all, Christianity rather famously centers around a God who died. That death is believed to have saved the world.

Regardless of how exactly he came to that conclusion, the Batter truly believes that killing Hugo is what's best. Even his infanticide (patricide?) is driven by his twisted devotion to Hugo, his creator and his God.

All of this is why the Batter is my favorite character in this game and none of the others (as great and memorable as they are) can even come close. He's not just a brute in a baseball costume. Each time you peel back a layer of his motivations, you only see more layers underneath. He's an incredibly rewarding character to analyze, and I never get tired of talking about him. He's a fanatic, a devoted apostle, a self-righteous murderer.

And he always sits up front on the rollercoaster.

[myeyebagsaredesigner]

I feel like as much as the bats tell each other to focus on their health and make sure to recover, they're all very quick to dismiss their injury if they feel something else is more important. Usually, an injury is dismissed for something completely unimportant.

Dick: Got mugged on the street in civvies and is limping down the street. He passes by a shop window and sees a very elegant looking tea set. He immediately thinks of Alfred and decides to go buy it, completely ignoring the fact that he's very beaten up at the moment. Alfred thanks him, but tells him to worry about his injuries first.

Bruce: Hops out of the batmobile to head over to Alfred and get his multiple bullet wounds stitched up. Damian comes up to him and before he can say anything, he shoves a drawing his way. Bruce looks at a picture of him and his youngest son and immediately goes to hang it up on the fridge. Cass walks in to find him staring at it with a smile, so she redirects him back to the cave.

Duke: Heading back from patrol with a major concussion and a broken nose. He overhears some kids outside an arcade talking about how Dance Dance Revolution is lame, and he immediately goes inside to prove them wrong. The kids are in awe, not only because the Signal is there right in front of them, but because he's freakishly good at DDR. Oracle is very worried because he was supposed to sign off a while ago, and sends in Spoiler to go get him. She joins him in DDR for a round, but makes him leave after.

Jason: Stumbling into the cave with a twisted ankle, concussion, and a knife stuck in his side. He isn't expecting anyone to be there, and is surprised (not really) to find Tim sitting at the bat computer. He hobbles over and Tim tells him about a case he's working on, and he thinks it's interesting so he pulls up a chair to sit and figure it out. Eventually, Tim looks in his direction and freaks out at the amount of blood pooling on the floor, but Jason seems to have forgotten why it would be there.

Damian: After a run in with Joker's henchmen, he and Batman are walking back to the batmobile to get back to the cave. He has a dislocated shoulder and a couple deep cuts. He hears a meow and quickly turns around to go pet this flee infested street cat, and Batman has to agree to let him keep it before he gets in the car.

Tim: Walking back from a fight that left him with a couple broken fingers and a rapidly swelling eye. He sees Jason's next door neighbor and remembers what he had told him about the annoying things she does and that she's referred to as 'the karen' of the building. He follows and watches her, trying to get dirt that could be used later. Jason goes home to find Tim sitting on top of his building, and joins him to start shit talking the neighbor.

Babs: Got threatened out on the street and ends up with a broken hand, preventing her from rolling her wheelchair with ease. She gets out her phone to call someone, but gets a twitter notification. She clicks on it and finds that Bruce has posted something completely stupid and now she needs to share this to every platform she can. She's adding it to her Google Doc of dumb things the bats do on the internet when Dick finds her on the sidewalk.

Steph: Heading back to the cave from a patrol with a fractured arm, extreme whiplash, and a swollen knee. She's passing by a group of girls who are shit talking their ex husbands, and is intrigued. Batman manages to pull her away from the gossip circle eventually, but only after she exchanges numbers with the girls to be updated.

Cass: Has a sprained ankle and a bullet wound in her shoulder, and is going to get it patched up, but she sees Alfred set out a warm plate of cookies and figures it can wait. Damian complains that she's getting blood all over the cookies, and Duke saves her some while she goes to get medical attention.

[nemesis-writer]

Five Minutes (Chapter 3)

Masterlist Let the Games Begin TW: mentions of blood, mental illness

The Waynes were waiting in agony for their first game. They were prepared to battle it together. But what they didn't know is that they each of them have to go through it alone.

In the Base...

I'm only known as Eurus in the underground world but my name shall always be (Y/N). I have built myself up all the way just to taste the blood in my hands. I was never gonna be the next Robin nor Batman, so why not create a name for my own.

I was able to send the letter for the first test for them, and have it sent anonymously. Now, I need to sleep as well.

I maybe a concierge of crime, but I also need to be with my baby.

At the Waynes'...

Everyone had to keep their eyes peeled and remain unflinching. Whenever there is a delivery or a package, there is always an inspection with x-rays in order to make sure that it's harmless.

They had to take extra precautions in order to prevent the exploitation of their identities, along with the ramifications of their 'stainless' reputation.

Until it was finally there...

The first game.

It had 'DAMIAN.' Written in capital letters, and in the notorious green color designed. Thanks Riddler.

The letter...

There's a child's life on the line Little Demon. If you try to pull anything, so here's a little riddle.

Here's a riddle based on Squid Game, Saw, and a basement:

'In shadows deep, where fear does grow, A game begins, you do not know. With each step forward, the danger nears, The stakes are high, and so are fears.

Twisted minds, with plans so sly, Trapped in a place where you can't ask why. A room cold, with echoes loud, Walls closing in, no escape allowed.

Through chains and locks, you struggle, fight, But only the brave can see the light. The clock is ticking, time is tight, Where are you now? What’s out of sight?'

"Bruce, what does this mean?", Damian wonders.

"Walls closing in? Trapped in a- Oh shit." Bruce cursed. It was an unusual sight for Bruce to curse since he was usually informed how barbaric it was by Alfred.

"It's a basement of an abandoned factory." Bruce stated.

"A bit more specific since there's like a hundred of them especially in Gotham." Jason says.

"Alright so I need everyone to split up and go through every abandoned factory and if anyone sees any sign of life or a clue then speak in the comms." Bruce commanded.

They all spread out one by one looking for the kid or at least a clue. Factory to factory, street to street, they searched high and low and even the most minute details weren't left out.

Until they finally found it.

The first clue.

"Guys I found the first clue, I'm in Bludhaven Street."yelled Dick.

Everyone rushed and reached the basement. It also showed an old, probably made in the 1900's, telephone. They were too eager to even notice the hidden security cameras.

Damian eagerly opened it and read:

'In a room so small, the walls feel tight, A game is set, but not of delight. No choice, no chance to run away, You must stay sharp and make your play.

The door is locked, the air is cold, Silent whispers of the truth untold. A puzzle waits, a test of mind, With every step, danger you’ll find.

Ticking sounds, a faint warning near, What’s hidden here is crystal clear. Almost there, the end in sight— But tread carefully, or face the night.'

'Room, ticking, no chance, locked door.' Bruce tries to think of it.

"A bomb in an apartment." Jason figured out and yelled. All the the sudden the phone starts to ring.

"Someone answer the phone," Cassandra yelled.

"You answer the fucking phone," Damian replied.

"This is your test Demon Spawn there is a kid on the line and more people with the kid." Jason retorts.

Damian reluctantly answered the phone and heard:

'Congratulations for the first game, Where blood will spill and none’s to blame. A twisted start, a sinister plot, A place where hope is soon forgot.

The faces cold, their eyes wide with fear, For every step, a fate draws near. No room for mercy, no chance to flee, In this cruel game, there’s no decree.

As the doors close, the lights grow dim, The air grows thick with a haunting hymn. A moment's silence, a final breath, The line between life and certain death.

Congratulations for the first game, But it’s too late now to place the blame. Tick-tock, tick-tock, it’s time to spin, Let the games begin.'

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire, @alishii, @cxcillia

[mssorceressupreme]

hiii, i really love your minho ficc, its just so good 😭. and i wonder if i could make a request? anw, im sorry for my bad english 🫠

it's minho x fem reader, when the reader is her gf and the one who caught the flare instead of newt when trying to save him from wicked

hiii thank you bae 🥹🫶🏼 of course, I’m delighted to write this for you!! I wasn’t sure if you wanted said reader to live or die for this but for the sake of a happy ending I’ll make a her live LMAOO but I’ll still make it angsty-ish?

——

Lose You

Pairing: Minho x Reader

Summary: in which you caught the flare, and Minho will do anything not to lose you.

Warnings: mentions of blood, collapsing, injuries and explosions

——

The Last city was chaos—fire and smoke filled the air, the deafening sounds of battle surrounded you. You clung to consciousness, your vision blurring as you fled WCKD’s facility.

Thomas, Newt and Gally were ahead, their figures barely visible through the haze, but Minho stood right beside you, his grip on your hand tight and reassuring.

“Keep moving guys!” Thomas shouted over his shoulder, though he paid a little more attention to you as he knew about your condition. Minho on the other hand, was oblivious.

You guys had just escaped the facility, no way were you going to break the news to him so soon. Especially since you knew that he would hate himself for not being able to keep you safe given his protective nature.

You nodded, trying to keep up with Thomas, but each step felt like a monumental effort. The adrenaline that had fuelled your rescue mission was fading, replaced by a deep, gnawing fatigue.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and a sharp pain throbbed in your chest. The world around you spun, and your injuries from fighting the WCKD soldiers previously were worsening.

The boys came to a halt and the five of you stopped behind a pillar, shielding yourselves from the gunfires and erupting explosions temporarily.

“We’re almost there, just need to wait for a clear coast.” Gally affirmed, glancing to you swiftly to check if you were alright.

You gasped, inhaling for air, before your legs gave in, “Minho…” you weakly called out.

Minho caught you in his arms to stop your fall, gently stroking your head, “Y/N!” His voice was frantic while he held you upright.

You tried to speak to reassure him, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you looked up at him, your vision dimming and saw the panic in his eyes.

You felt your chest tightening and your lungs closing in on you, breathing was a struggle but you continued panting and gasping for air and coughing.

Minho was saying something but you found it hard to focus. All you could see was the way his face twisted in fear and concern.

Another bomb exploded near you, causing the five of you to stumble.

“Stay low guys!” Newt yelled out, “Don’t breathe in the smoke!”

“Y/N stay with me,” Minho begged, while sitting on the floor to get a firmer grip of you, while you rested in his lap. Thomas helped lower you down to prevent you from getting injured further.

Minho glanced down at your arm, and his eyes widened in horror.

You followed his gaze and saw the dark, web-like veins spreading all over your arm. Your heart sank as you realised how quickly the virus had spread, you felt that your chances of surviving were now slim.

“No,” Minho whispered, his voice trembling, “No, no, no….”

“Minho…” You managed to choke out.

He lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. “We’re going to get you out of here,” he assured, “I’m not losing you, do you hear me? I’m not losing you!”

Newt came to check up on you, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, “Brenda has the serum, we’ve got to get to her now!”

“How long has she been like this?…” Minho whispered to Newt, not wanting me to hear.

Thomas answered before Newt, “She’ll be alright, let’s just get her to the serum. She’ll be okay Minho.” He put his arm on Minho’s shoulder as a form of consolation.

“We need to move now!” Gally commanded, helping you up from Minho’s lap.

“I’ll carry her! You guys cover me!” Minho shouted, while picking you up bridal style, holding you closely to his chest.

The battle raged around you, but Minho moved with a single-minded focus, dodging gunfire and explosions. You could feel his heart pounding against you, his breath coming in sharp bursts.

Thomas and Newt reappeared, “How is she holding up?”

You were still breathing heavily and rapidly, gasping for every bit of oxygen.

Minho lifted your sleeve, “It’s spreading like wildfire…” his voice wavering slightly.

“We need to get her to the Berg now.” Thomas firmly said, loading up his gun before running through the battling city again.

As Minho ran, you could feel your consciousness slipping. The edges of your vision darkened and your body felt heavier with each passing second. You tried to keep your eyes open, to stay focused, but the flare was growing stronger, darkening your mind.

“Stay with me, Y/N,” He whispered, “Stay with me baby.”

Just then, your mind became total blackness.

A violent shudder wracked your body, a guttural growl escaped your lips. Your limbs twisted in unnatural angles, feeling an overwhelming urge to lash out. The world around you turned red and you shoved Minho with inhuman strength, causing him to drop you from his arms.

“Y/N, NO!” Minho shouted, voice filled with horror and desperation.

You growled at him again, black blood dripping from your mouth. Eyes bloodshot, veins popping out from your neck and arms.

You then lunged at Minho, nails sharp, a snarl escaping your lips. Your mind screamed at your body to stop, but the flare had taken over, turning you into a crank.

Minho dodged the attacks, eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and pleas, “Y/N! It’s me, Minho!”

You ignored him and continued to attack, trying to lunge at him with a knife.

“Gally, Thomas, Newt! Run ahead and get the serum from Brenda now!” Minho shouted, the other three fleeing as a result.

“I’m not fighting you! I refuse to!” He yelled, dodging every hit.

“Y/N, fight it!” He pleaded, dodging yet another swipe.

“I can’t…” the human side of you managed to whisper, before the flare occupied your mind again.

“I know you’re in there. Fight it!” He managed to pin you down, being on top of you.

Your body moved on its own, a primal urge to destroy and fight everything in your path. Minho blocked your attacks, eyes filled with tears.

Minutes felt like hours as you fought, each movement filled with pain and sorrow. Just when you thought you would lose yourself completely, you heard footsteps approaching.

Thomas appeared clutching the serum, “Catch!” He tossed it to Minho.

Thomas threw the serum to Minho. With one last sorrowful look at you, he plunged the needle into your arm. The effect was immediate.

The red haze lifted, and your body went limp. Darkness consumed you and you collapsed into Minho’s arms. Total darkness.

——

You slowly opened your eyes, the chaos was gone. You sat up and checked your surroundings, to your surprise, you were lying in the Berg, its engines humming softly. There were around 30 kids here, along with your fellow gladers.

Minho sat beside you, his hand clasped tightly around yours.

“Minho?” You croaked, your voice weak.

His eyes snapped to yours, relief flooding his face. “Y/N! You’re awake!!”

“I…I thought I lost you.” You whispered, tears streaming down your face, “I had a dream we fought and…oh, I’m so sorry…”

He pulled you into his arms, “It’s alright baby. You’re safe now,” he said, “We’re heading to the Safe Haven. We made it.”

You smiled weakly, heart swelling with love and relief, “I love you, Minho.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” He replied, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

As the Berg soared through the sky, you knew you had a long road ahead, but with Minho by your side, you felt ready to take on the next challenge. Together, you would find a way to survive and build a new life in the Safe Haven.

[ticklygiggles]

Miya&Mia's 12 days of Tickles Day 8: Memories

Kavetham

A/N: uufff super late for this one as well skdndkff I'm terrible at these events aaaaaaaa I hope you all enjoy this one, I think they're a bit too ooc, but I hope you like it either way lol

The holiday season really was... melancholic for Kaveh. Memories of the past plagued his mind from a long time ago where his father had not disappeared and his mother was still with him and he was just a silly boy, opening presents and grinning like an idiot. 

He now had spent many holidays on his own and he was nothing more than a poor architect. Poor, literally, and the only thing that made his life happy was…

“Ah, Kaveh. Welcome back. What do you think of this?” 

Well, not a thing, but Alhaitham. 

“Alhaitham? Are you… decorating?” 

Kaveh blinked in disbelief as the wooden door closed behind him. Alhaitham was in the middle of the living room, decorating a huge pine tree right in the corner. It was almost finished, for what Kaveh could tell, it only needed the ornament on the very top. 

What did he think of this? Well, first of all, he didn't understand why Alhaitham was doing this. Second of all… it didn't look half bad if he had to be honest. 

“So?” Alhaitham insisted with his usual bored expression. 

“Well, it looks good. I just… didn't know you liked this celebration so much…” 

Something weird twisted in Kaveh’s chest. Seeing this pine tree only made him think about the memories of his childhood and he let out a long sigh that Alhaitham didn't fail to notice. 

“What's wrong?” 

“It's just…”

Before he could stop himself, he was telling Alhaitham all about it, feeling his cheeks heating up as the Acting Great Sage looked at him intently from across the room. 

The words came pouring out, explaining why he felt so melancholy and sad while a part of his brain screamed at him to shut up. Was Alhaitham going to laugh at him afterwards? Was he going to tell him he was making a fool of himself? Worse still, was he going to take down the decorations? 

As the words slowly died on his lips, Kaveh couldn't look up, so ashamed he was of having said everything he said. He fiddled with his fingers and opened his mouth a few times, but Alhaitham's crushing silence had him paralyzed. 

“W-Well, I… I… oh!” 

He could no longer formulate his sentence because Alhaitham's strong arms surrounded his figure and held him tightly against his chest, his cheek resting on top of Kaveh's head. Kaveh blinked, but slowly returned Alhaitham's embrace and tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, gently swaying and enjoying each other's warmth. If it were up to Kaveh, he would have stayed there all his life, in Alhaitham's arms, listening to the calm beating of his heart. 

“We should create new memories,” Alhaitham said above him and Kaveh hummed in agreement, smiling softly, nuzzling more into Alhaitham’s chest. “New memories so your silly brain stops focusing on the bad.” 

Kaveh didn't even feel like fighting so he chuckled, nodding a little. “You're right, for once, what do y-you thihihihink-! It tihihickles, wahahait!” 

One of Alhaitham's mischievous hands had slipped through the opening in the back of Kaveh's clothing and his fingers dug gently against the back of his ribs. 

Kaveh burst out laughing, pushing Alhaitham lightly, as if he didn't really want to escape and was just putting up an act. Alhaitham simply chuckled and wrapped his arm firmly around Kaveh's waist, preventing him from escaping or falling to the floor. 

“I bet it does. The reason is that I'm tickling you, Kaveh. We're under the mistletoe.” 

Kaveh hadn't noticed, but a mistletoe had been hung at the entrance to the hall, and just as Alhaitham had said, they were both under it. 

“You're suhuhuppohosed to kihihiss, not tihihickle- ahahahah! L-Leheheave my rihihibs alohohone!” Kaveh hit Alhaitham's chest without any force. 

“We'll, since we're creating new memories, let's also create new traditions,” Alhaitham said, pressing a open mouthed kiss to Kaveh's neck, causing him to gasp between his laughter. “We have to kiss and tickle each other under the mistletoe.” 

“That's unfahahair, I-” Kaveh gasped. Did he just say tickle each other? 

Weakly, one of his hands managed to find an opening to one of Alhaitham's armpit and the scribe threw his head back with a loud, sudden laugh. 

“Fine! FIHIHINE! I wahahas wrohohong!” Alhaitham cackled, trying to push Kaveh away. 

The architect simply giggled and kept tickling Alhaitham. “Nah, you weren't. We're making new memories, aren't we?” 

This holiday season was definitely going to be different and for the first time in forever, Kaveh was looking forward to it.

[yuri-is-online]

...so you just threw this beautiful idea of Fyuuture kid, and left me with a brainrot? Especially after you answered one ask with i quote "he loves his parent so much and was really fighting it to keep it together when he saw them alive again" end of the quote. WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN? WHAT? HOW?

ask 1 and ask 2

Oh 👉👈? I wasn't expecting to get an ask about this au ever again actually, but I am so glad you did, I like it a lot. I mentioned Fire Emblem Awakening in the first ask I got about it but for those of you who haven't played the game, the plot features the children of your army traveling back in time to try and prevent the end of the world. That's more or less what happened in the fyuuture kid au, at least in my first draft... I always end up associating the "future kid meets their parents" trope with either FE: Awakening or I guess Golden Sun? Which I think is the name of the jrpg where something similar happens idk I just like there being a reason for the kid to need to meet their parents.

In my original draft of the au, Yuu was told by Crowley there was no way home for them, so they settled down with Yutu's father and started building a life together. This turned out to not be true, as the Magical Marshall's office began investigating the overblots that happened while Yuu was in school and came to the conclusion Yuu had something to do with them; so they were secretly arrested, cursed to forget everything about Twisted Wonderland, and sent home. The curse was meant to trigger every time Yuu vaguely remembered their time in the otherworld, with the idea their brain would prevent them from thinking about it after a while. They would have justified it, if anyone had been there to ask, by saying Yuu wouldn't know they were missing anything and would be able to live a happy life. When Yutu was born that made that outcome impossible, but the Marshal's office didn't think to check if Yuu was pregnant...

Shortly after they did that though strange things started happening. Monster attacks got more frequent, blot levels started rising, not to extremes immediately but still enough to be concerning. Reports of a strange, abyssal magic using beast, started pouring in to S.T.Y.X. suspiciously close to Grim's description. While Yuu was busy trying to put their life back together in their world, Twisted Wonderland slowly began to fall apart drowning under an ink colored sky. The overblot phantoms they fought come back and begin hunting in their respective homelands, and rumor has it they can turn certain mages into their thralls...

The curse slowly eats away at Yuu's brain, every time they see something that reminds them of their friends, their time at NRC, every time Yutu does something that would make them think about how much he takes after his dad, they feel a great deal of physical pain and temporarily lose the ability to function. It's killing them, and no doctor or specialist can figure out the cause, so Yutu just has to sit there and watch his parent slowly die and not be able to do anything about it. I was uncertain of where exactly I wanted Yuu to die in the story, but it always was around when Yutu gets isekaid to NRC, either before and he had to leave them behind or after when they both get to go home finally! But Yuu doesn't completely make it, they're able to have one moment of peace with their son and Professor Crewel before passing on.

Yutu's dad changes depending on who you want it to be of course, as does whether they met before he and his friends decided to go back in time to prevent this version of the future from ever happening, but his feelings about Yuu never changes. Yutu really admires his parent, he did even before he learned about them facing down overblots! They were really close and the more he learned about their curse, the more responsible he felt for their death. He's very determined to keep Yuu alive and safe in Twisted Wonderland in this timeline, even if it costs him his life.

His opinion on his dad really changes depending on who it is and what he learns about them. Like can you imagine learning your dad was known for being obsessed with teeth and no he had no intention of being a dentist? Clown behavior 💀💀💀 His friends were all ocs I made but never really developed... I do remember that one was a younger sibling of Kalim's (who could be his aunt if you like Kalim and absolutely embraces that role), her retainer, Crewel's son who also sees himself as Yutu's uncle (the feeling isn't mutual) because he is old enough to sort of remember Yuu and thinks of them as a sibling, and a random oc I based off of the kid from Up for no reason other than I like the movie. They also came back in time, but only Yutu ended up in the right place, just like fire emblem awakening.

idk I should probably do something with it. like writing the reactions for the other dorms...

[yanderes-galore]

And lastly, I recently got into dark souls, and I was wondering if you could do a concept of Ornstein and Smough?

I love them even if I can't figure out a plot for the life of me so here I go trying.

I'm so sorry for its length, I struggled hard on this for whatever reason.

Yandere! Ornstein + Smough Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic - Sharing/Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Isolation, Kidnapping, Murder, Blood, Forced companionship/relationship.

Despite being total opposites, these two are companions meant to defend Anor Londo's cathedral.

Dragon Slayer Ornstein is a knight who has only ever been loyal to his lord and king.

He has fought in the war against dragons and served his masters with devotion.

He has respect as most knights do and is well known for his strength and loyalty.

Then there's Executioner Smough...

Smough is a large man who is sadistic and cannibalistic in nature.

He thrives on bloodshed and his nature prevents him from being a knight as revered as Ornstein in the eyes of his king.

It's funny how the two are paired...

A loyal knight... and a beast of a man with little morals.

Even worse?

You are between them.

My biggest focus in this is how different their personalities are.

Ornstein seems like the best bet for you.

He treats you the most humanely, after all he's kept his sense of honor.

He's more of a protective type, a knight who would show loyal devotion to his obsession.

While he might still imprison and isolate you, he never leaves your side.

He treats his obsession like he would his kings and lords.

While Anor Londo is abandoned by the Gods, he still knows his purpose is protection.

He'd praise you, keep you safe, treat you as though you're his most important objective now in this illusion.

Smough, of course, is a different story.

While Ornstein is the closest you'll get to chivalry in this place...

Smough is a beast.

While the executioner still keeps his vow to defend the cathedral, he delights in violence.

He's possessive and savage towards his obsession.

While Ornstein would be gentle and respectful of his affection.

Smough is more likely to squeeze you just because you're smaller and weak...

Like a twisted form of cuteness aggression to the point where you think something within you snapped.

They're so different yet are given the same task.

Protect Anor Londo, even when most of the Gods are gone.

The two could either share or fight over you.

Sharing makes sense as Ornstein would need to be there to make sure Smough doesn't get the idea to squish you.

Although fighting over you also makes sense, as Ornstein would want to protect you...

Meanwhile Smough acts rather aggressive when around his obsession.

I can see them both keeping you at the cathedral to share you.

Maybe you're the Chosen Undead, you're meant to rekindle the First Flame.

Or maybe you're another knight...

Or even just some sort of life wandering Anor Londo.

Regardless... You'll eventually encounter these two... and you may never leave.

That cathedral becomes your roadblock.

You aren't leaving there... not quite because you died...

Yet you are a prisoner to them.

While Smough is definitely an enforcer, one willing to turn anyone too close into paste...

At least you have Ornstein?

Ornstein is known for being a great knight... he provides wonderful company.

But he never lets you leave.

In that sense, he's just as bad as Smough.

While he's more respectful and understanding than Smough.

He still prioritizes his own desires and needs over yours.

He's still just as selfish as his partner, the cannibal executioner.

Said executioner is someone you expected to not convince to let you leave.

He seems too giddy to let you go.

He looks down upon you from his two false faces and you can smell the blood on his hammer.

Both of them have killed countless beasts and humans.

In fact, during your time with them, you'll probably even see it done.

Most of the time, Ornstein is occupied with you while Smough handles the issue.

As expected... you faintly hear intruders become a sickening splat and Smough chuckling.

You feel ill.

Smough is someone you expected to keep you locked here.

He's a monster in his own right, taking joy in his job.

He'd even sacrifice Ornstein if it meant getting what he wanted.

Which makes you wonder if you're enough to keep Smough from harming Ornstein... or if he'll just do so at a later time.

What makes you feel the most dread is how Ornstein acts.

The knight treats you gently, often looking after you while Smough plays executioner.

He acts nice and protective...

But you wonder why he puts up with Smough?

You wonder why he doesn't just... take you out of here?

You wonder why he won't do anything to help you...!

Why does he leave you to entertain Smough?

Why does he do any of what he does around you?

Ornstein often ignores your pleas for freedom.

Why?

Well, not only are you a good way to keep Smough under control...

But nowhere else is safe for you.

Why bother leaving? You're safest here with the two looking after you.

Smough is a beast, yes, yet he's attached to you and Ornstein reigns him in.

Ornstein doesn't help you leave as he feels this is the best place for you.

Ornstein and Smough are infamous for being a ruthless duo.

No threat can harm you if you stay here...

Ornstein never plans on rescuing you... Smough doesn't plan on letting him, either...

You're stuck here, in this illusionary cathedral, stuck with two loyal guards...

Your only way out is just as bad as the monster he trusts as his companion...

Perhaps you will die in this place... just not in the way you once thought.

[zvhiux34]

Simon Riley realizes how much touch starved he is due to his physical therapy.

Pairing: OC (Female, Dr Eavanson) x Simon "Ghost" Riley

w.c: 2.5k

Warning: Fluff, a little twisted Simon I guess, a small sexual inuendo. English it's not my first language.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Due to his work, Simon Riley is a man accustomed to looking death in the eye, but his skill has helped him dodge it, avoid it, and even mock it to the face a few times.

But what he could not escape, no matter how hard he tried, was the pain.

Although adrenaline and satisfaction also accompanied him, sometimes, when he and his team completed a mission.

But those pleasant sensations went away when the pain knocked on the door. It was always there, like the shadow of a bad thought.

At least it reminded him that he was still alive, and not just another «Ghost» wandering through the valleys of violence.

A few months ago, while he was deploying a mission to capture one of many criminal gangs in Afghanistan, Simon and his team were cornering the leaders when suddenly one of those damned people managed to hit a bullet in his right shoulder, almost hitting his shoulder blade.

It was incredible how such a small object could transmit such a heartbreaking sensation that reached half of his body.

Fortunately, that did not prevent the capture of those scum, but the price of pain was quite expensive to pay.

The pain is what brought him here, in a seat in the waiting room of your medical office. Although the doctor successfully removed the bullet, the impact affected several muscles in his shoulder which prevented him from handling his weapons with the mastery that characterizes him. Therefore, they gave him a medical leave to recover, away from the battlefield.

Simon snorted in annoyance at the memory of his superiors demanding him to take the leave. They also recommended a doctor specialized in traumatology in his homeland, in England, who could carry out his therapy.

As hard as it was to accept it, he knew he needed therapy, so his body would be in optimal condition, just like before.

-Mr. Riley? -The receptionist, a middle-aged woman behind her desk, caught his attention- You can now go into the office, Dr. Eavanson is waiting for you.

Simon stood up from his seat and walked to where the woman indicated. He carried his hands in his pockets as she knocked lightly on the door and then opened it.

Simon didn't know what to expect, he thought you were a gray-haired man who was in charge of this office.

But there you were, a mirage of a delicate figure behind your desk visualizing something on the computer. Seeing you again, Simon felt something tense inside him, the receptionist closed the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone.

You raised your gaze to where he was and smiled kindly at him, Simon didn't know what to do, he was frozen, for a second he thought you had caught him and knew all the paralyzing sensation you caused him in just a few moments. "What's happening to me?" he thought to himself.

-Mr. Riley, right? -Finally, your welcoming voice broke the walls of silence. Simon was able to escape from his trance to nod slightly.

-It's nice to meet you, I'll take care of you today. I was reviewing the X-ray plates of your shoulder along with the medical file, I see that you have an injury in the supraspinatus muscle. Is that correct? -You got up from your seat and took a few steps to approach your new patient, Simon, but he, the lituanent who led a group of soldiers with the same strength and violence as he possesses, and who had experience in fighting against equal or worse subjects...

He took a step back at your approach, as if it were by instinct.

You realized that gesture, and then looked at him a little strangely.

Simon cursed himself inwardly. He was acting like a stupid teenager, or worse, like an antisocial who doesn't know how to deal with people, he had to do something.

-Yes. -He answered, finally while composing himself- That's right. The doctor who treated me in the camp made the same diagnosis... And therefore assigned me a series of therapies.

He almost let out a sigh of relief when he saw your face lose the signs of strangeness that you had shown a few seconds ago.

It was strange, normally he didn't pay attention to what others thought of him.

His mind began to search for an answer to the question that formed inside him. Why was it different with you?

-That's right. -You affirmed with the same smile.-Fortunately, in cases like his, recovery is guaranteed if you undergoes a series of therapies.

Simon nodded as he listened... while he used an effort to contain the desire of his eyes to travel something further below the borders of your face, he didn't want you to notice him doing that, while you looked at him straight in the eye.

-But first, I have to examine you. Could you undress and sit down on the stretcher, please? -Suddenly all of Simon's thoughts fell silent, as you pointed with your head to the stretcher that was on the right side of the room. And a coat rack to hang clothes.

«Shit» when he saw you he had totally forgotten that he had to undress in front of the doctor who was going to treat him.

He just didn't take into account that it was going to be someone like you.

In those microseconds where he tried to dilute his little panic, he glanced at you while you were checking something on your iPod.

You didn't seem to give the matter any big importance, anyway, for you it was just another body to check.

But for him, it was a body formed by years of work, but it was also full of tattoos and scars, in which each trace of them contained hundreds of stories. Some he still knew by heart, others... Not only were they too obvious, but the memory was also very present.

But the problem wasn't him, he wasn't embarrassed at all by his appearance, the problem was you... He didn't know how you were going to react to seeing a body like his, nor... Nor if you were going to like it.

He couldn't just stand there either.

Simon started by removing his black jacket, feeling the bother sensation by his right shoulder, then finishing with his long-sleeved shirt of the same color. He hung them on the clothes rack, and proceeded to sit on the strecher, feeling it soft at the same time he heard the squeal beneath him.

He assumed that was what announced to you he was ready for the evaluation. You put your iPod on your desk and went straight to where he was.

There, Simon's eyes escaped from their prison to be able to quickly and discreetly explore a little more of what he had already been able to capture.

You were smaller than him, without a doubt, even when he saw you sitting at the desk he realized. You barely reached the height of his chest.

His honey-colored eyes lowered a little more, until they met your neck. It was firm, not willing to allow your head to look down at any eventuality, and the skin that protected it looked so soft and delicate.

Simon wondered how many times you had covered it, not only from the cold weather, but to protect it from the curious glances the love marks made by some lucky indiscreet lover to whom you allowed such audacity.

Although you were not carrying any by now, he made sure of that.

His eyes lowered further, and found the protective layer that was your white coat and the blue uniform, those in your profession usually wear.

He did not deny he was only a little disappointed, since his imagination would have to cooperate to draw the shapes hidden beneath the layers of fabric.

But it did not matter, the best part was in front of him, totally accesible to his sight.

Your face.

-Well, I am going to examine the state of your shoulder with a series of movements to evaluate its condition - You announced, while you positioned yourself in front of him.- It is important that you let me know if you feel any pain, since that way I will know what type of therapy will be the most appropriate for you, okay? -You looked into his eyes to get his approval, Simon looked back at you and nodded.

-Okay.

-Perfect, let's get started.

You took the wrist of his right arm, and raised it slightly while your other hand gently rested on Simon's affected shoulder.

-I'm going to move your arm in a circular motion.-You announced again to begin to make the movements, gently.- From one to ten on a pain scale, how do you feel it?-She ask him.

Nothing could prepare him when he felt the touch of your soft fingers on his rough skin. He had to use an effort to contain the small exaltation that his body emitted.

Until you began to move his arm in a circular motion.

The sensation that the movements caused on his affected shoulder reminded him of the reasons why he was right now here, the pain was not as intense as the days after his operation. But it was still very annoying, he tried not to let the pain be reflected in his gestures.

-Seven. -He confessed.

-Perfect. -You snapped. You left his arm in the original position.- I'm going to repeat the procedure with another exercise, the conditions are the same. -You assured him with your voice that he felt as velvety in his ears.

You took his right arm wrist again, except this time you gently bent his arm until you were directing his hand towards his left shoulder, where your other hand was resting.

To do this, you had to put your arm around Simon's back, who was a significantly larger person than you.

But the one who was aware of all this was him, who felt his breathing stop for a moment, as he felt your delicate arm surround the skin of his back, which he felt was getting warmer and warmer.

While your chest was only centimeters away from coming into contact with his skin.

After months and months of combat, where many times he faced each other in hand-to-hand combat, using the power of his strength to weaken the enemy or using his perfect technique in the execution of weapons, where many times his opponents responded with scratches, bruises, blows, or even bullets, like the last time.

This was the first time he felt how physical contact with another person... did not imply some kind of harm to him.

And suddenly he realized, he realized after all these events how much he needed at least some small kind touch after the sea of violence he subjected himself to day after day.

He felt his heart ache a little below his chest.

Simon looked back at you, and imagined how he took advantage of the position to take you in his arms and place you on his lap, while you allowed his mouth to finally capture yours in an almost suffocating way, but you responded in the same expectant way as he did.

-From one to ten on a pain scale, how do you feel? -Your voice takes him out of the perfect imagination in which he was submerged, he answered quickly to pretend he never imagined such scenes with you just a few seconds ago.

-Six.

-Perfect. -You answered with your warm smile.

And so the first therapy session with you passed, where Simon had to honor his good sense of self-control, and for the first time in his life he realized he was almost on the verge of losing it.

-Very well Mr. Riley, you can put your clothes back on now. -You kindly indicated while looking into his eyes, Simon did as you asked, surprised that time had passed so quickly- As I suspected, the injury from your wound does not present a depth that supposes a serious magnitude, fortunately -You went to your desk to record with your computer the physical examination that you performed in detail- Therefore, you have been prescribed two sessions of physical therapy including interferential therapy for five weeks starting next Thursday.

Next, you removed two copies of the prescription from the printer. You gave a copy to Simon, who was already dressed and in front of the desk, which he took very willingly.

-On the prescription, write down two painkillers that will help you a lot with the pain and the necessary doses.-You indicated.- That's all for today, we'll see each other next Thursday, Mr. Riley, take care, and if you have any questions, you have my phone number that you can call- You assured, then getting up from your chair and offering him your hand as a momentary farewell, which Simón gladly took.

Since it was the last trace of contact with the one he would have to survive until his next meeting.

-Thank you very much for everything, Dr. Eavanson. See you next Thursday.- He said in farewell, then opening the door that separated him from the outside world... From you.

Darkness had already fallen over the city, and Simon was inside his apartment with the light off, on his bed, ready to finally rest. He had already taken the medicine you recommended, and for the first time in months, his shoulder was no longer bothering him so much in this position.

With his head on his pillow, he began to think on today's events.

After thinking for a while, he discovered that what happened a few hours ago had never happened to him before, until he was under your touch.

And he didn't understand why, certainly the last mission was one of the longest he had had in his career, where the only people he saw daily were his teammates.

It is true that he couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him in such a delicate and kind way.

And well, he had already gone on long missions before... And he had also touched other women in the past, and they had touched him too.

But none of them caused him the slightest bit of what you did. Even though they had only known each other for less than half an hour.

And after thinking, and thinking without coming up with any logical answer, he simply stopped looking for an answer, and dedicated the last moments of his day to enjoying the beautiful moments he spent with you in the walls of your doctor's office.

And with that he posed a question that perhaps would never have a clear answer: How would you react... if Simon lost the self-control he had left?

What would you think of all the things he had done with you inside his mind without you knowing?

Without a doubt, he was going to attend all his therapies.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I'll be glad for any sugestion 💘.

M A S T E R L I S T

[hanibalistic]

THE MANOR IN WHICH | ENHYPEN.

genre | (in general of the universe) fluff, angst, friendship, action, found family au, magic au

synopsis | if one wants to test whether a person still has the power of a god, maybe the best thing to do is just ask, not try to turn them into one.  

word count | 11.8k+

warning | fighting & violence, injuries (breaking of limbs; mention a lot actually) / mentions of blood, death, domestic violence, child abandonment

universe | tciu; enhypen's counterpart of the universe

note | i decided to expand the universe because i am lazy, and i hate making moodboards!!! but i love chips <3  

You remember the first time Kim Namjoon injected a shot of fentanyl into your eye. 

More than the abrupt pain, which was not at all unmemorable either, there were gashes of blood your left on the side of his arms. He had to pin you down under the circumstance that the medical team did not provide any method of sedation. Only a syringe, a glass bottle of fentanyl, and another empirical hypothesis on human drugs and their effectiveness in quelling your Enlightenment. 

Enlightenment—Uncle Kim coined the term when he began teaching you how to control your god-given ability. It was the third and the final stage of your descension to Godhood, with the first two being Transformation and Possession, respectively. But, more than a stage in your power, Enlightenment is a sentient concept that battled for the ownership of your body. It is a punishment given to you by the God of All. It is the very thing you need to avoid descending toward. 

Uncle Kim and the rest of his colleagues in the militia group that adopted you after the death of your parents were figuring out how to keep you from descending. It was no big deal. Everyone was taught to hone their powers during their teenage years. Most high schools have implemented training classes once a week to prevent disasters caused by those unfamiliar with their capabilities. Some private schools even went out of their way to renovate their sports courts to better accommodate their students, to insert training classes into the mandated curriculum, and to hire a diverse group of professionals that fit the student body. 

But even then, you understood the distinction between yourself and other children. 

Their power was given by the Gods. Your power was to become a God.

The fentanyl comes in when some part of Enlightenment slips past your control. The first time it happened, it had been sudden but not unrecognizable. One of your eyes had been clouded with darkness, like having your sight be draped over with a red veil. You were only able to see clearly Namjoon stumbling toward you with the syringe in his hand. You understood what must happen, and while you fought Enlightenment, the Enlightenment fought him. It was similar to getting a vaccination, except the needle wiggled and scratched to be in your skin, and you feared for your life. 

But the pain was gone moments after Enlightenment returned dormant, and Namjoon’s arms were never rid of those ugly scars. 

You also remembered the first time your bones twisted at the beginning phase of Godhood. 

Namjoon had died months prior from murder, leaving you with scattered pieces of him to remember him by. But, just between you and the gods, nothing brought out memories of him more than how ill-equipped you were to pull yourself back from Enlightenment’s takeover alone.

You recalled not being able to see anything. In retrospect, it made sense. You were supposed to lose access to yourself. Once Enlightenment was fully reached, the body would belong to it, and you did not deserve to see through its eyes. You later deduced that you had entered the beginning phase of the descension when your body would transform to be more fitting of a god’s image—the twisting of bones, perhaps to make your limbs malleable. 

The bottle of fentanyl on the motel’s bedside table fell and shattered when you crawled to it with your arms and reached up blindly. You wouldn’t have been able to hold it with your fingers anyway, and you had doubted your ability to work through the intricacy of a syringe when you were too busy withering in pain from your broken legs. You were desperate and almost embarrassed by it, but the helplessness taught you one thing that night, a new thing, which was that impending pain was worse than actual pain. 

If someone were to kill you, you would rather it happen immediately than hours later. The knowledge and the wait for death would always outshine the deed. Knowing your arms were about to be twisted into an irregular shape scared you more than feeling as if it was about to happen. In the end, accompanied by the cracks of your ankles and painstaking wails, you dipped a finger into the fentanyl on the floor and pierced it through your eyeball with your nails, slathering the drug across the back of your eye.

You left the motel the next morning and never returned.

Those have remained the most traumatic moments of your life for years. You have grown to be cautious of your body’s changes to prevent another incident of being surrounded by Enlightenment. Those around you have always diligently pointed out when one of your eyes turns red. Putting a needle through your eye has become less grand and intimidating with each passing occasion. Nothing much could surpass what happened to you back then. 

All except one thing—

“Hi, I’m so sorry, but we’re closed.”

—customer service in the fast food industry. 

It was mainly an exaggeration, but sometimes you thought you really meant it when you’d rather go through the beginning phase of Godhood Descension than explain to a customer why you would not be making them a sandwich fifteen minutes past the store’s closing hour. 

The boy stalked in anyway, leaving the door to slam close behind him. You knew he heard you because his legs paused briefly when you spoke, as if his conscience wanted to listen. You rubbed your hands under the counter to hide your annoyance. You should have locked the door after flipping the open sign around. This wasn’t the first time people made it apparent that they were illiterate. You figured if someone with a physically enhancing power wanted to punch their way through, they would have done it regardless of the lock. However, that was merely an excuse to be careless. When you finally chase this customer away, you planned to text your manager about getting a metal bolted door.

Biting back a humorous smirk from the idea, you quietly cleared your throat and looked up to observe the boy in mutual silence as he stopped before the cash register. His hands were buried in his jacket pocket, but you didn’t believe he was hiding anything besides his hands. His hair has shades of blond that were irregularly placed enough to feel deliberate. He was tall, a head taller than you at minimum, but skinny like a twig, which made him less threatening. Either way, he was bothersome for barging in when you were closed and ready to head home. 

“Are there any wheat bread left?”

“We’re closed.”

Niki raised a brow. He heard you the first time. If only that was a good enough reason to deter him from having to stand in front of the cash register like an idiot. Unfortunately, he has to fulfill the task given to him, or else it’s no more free housing for his sorry ass! The best he could do was to make everything quick—trailing his eyes down to your chest, he inwardly sighed at seeing the necklace shown to him before entering the restaurant. He hasn’t gotten the full scope of the mission, as in he knows what he has to do but not why he has to do it, but he knows Heeseung gave him two tasks.

First, take the necklace. 

Second, bring out your power. 

Shifting his weight, he shrugged dismissively and tried to continue the conversation. “So what? You can’t answer a simple question?”

“I am not serving right now. I am off the clock,” you said.

“You told me,” he retorted, his eyes widening softly. “But I didn’t ask you to make me anything. I asked if there was any wheat bread left.”

Turning your head away so you could roll your eyes, you returned your attention to him and smiled. “Why would you need to know that?”

“That’s none of your business, is it?” 

In your mind, you have reached over the cash register and grabbed his tiny head with your ginormous hand, shaking the attitude out of him and some respect into him as fires circled you like halos circled an angel. Over the years of working customer service jobs in various settings, you’ve gotten fairly decent at crafting your imaginary torture scenes, where there was little torture and a lot of complaining. But this boy was mind-boggling more than usual because, despite his tall stature, he looked boyish enough to be a student. At least you haven’t met a well-adjusted adult who would color their hair in such a reckless manner. 

What did that mean? This boy was out here disrespecting his elders in broad daylight.

“Please leave, or I’ll be forced to call the authorities,” you said. 

Niki watched your corporate-trained smile, but he grimaced because you even thought about calling the authorities in today’s day and age.

Unique powers have grown so prevalent that there was only a fifty-fifty percent chance that a patrolling officer would meet someone whose power was scored lower than or equal to theirs. Even the usage of old-fashioned weapons, such as a gun, wasn’t foul-proof anymore, given that there were people out there who were basically a walking operating room. The law enforcement was a joke. 

But—a thought passed his mind—you could be doing him a favor by letting the police handle him, not yourself. Even though he has no knowledge of the intricacies of your power, he suspected he wouldn’t want to face off with someone like you. One accidental beam shot down from Heaven, and he would be a standing stick of scorched meat. 

Biting back a shudder, Niki pursed his lips in distaste at the recognition that his closest, most trusted friends had potentially sent him out on a suicide mission. Was all of this really worth free housing? Getting a job could not be too hard! He looked at your determined face, his gaze floating down to your ridiculously green outfit and the oiled screen of the cash register. Plus, you were dealing with him instead of being home with a gaming console in your hands, which you may not even be able to afford despite working late night shifts. He held back a shudder again. 

Free housing was worth everything. 

“Fine, I’ll leave,” he muttered. “I need something from you, though.”

You raised a brow. “It better not be a sandwich, kid.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, after waiting a beat for your guard to lower even more, he swiftly pulled a hand from his warmed pocket and shot it outward, reaching for your necklace. 

You have seen this exact movement before. Besides teaching you how to control your power, Namjoon also taught you how to fight. 

Since you would only be using your power a fraction at a time to avoid being consumed by it, you would be put at a disadvantage to your opponents, who would most likely be able to use all of theirs. He told you that learning how to work around a match was necessary, but you knew the real reason he needed to teach you was so you could later be used in jobs the militia group involves itself with.

You never minded it. He practically raised you all those years, so it was you giving back. He didn’t have a lot, but he made space for you in his shabby, ugly apartment and gave you allowances to spend. At some point, he had attempted to make meals to provide you with a proper diet, but he wasn’t the kind of man who should step foot in the kitchen, so there was always a trashcan full of takeout boxes. You thought he tried to clean up after himself more when you started living with him, but the house was always a black hole of trash and dirty laundry. It was no wonder he never brought any woman home, or maybe he kept your presence in mind. 

He tried to give you the kind of life a normal kid would have outside of all the testing and training, and you never thought he didn’t care about you. Like you always remembered, Uncle Kim’s ugly scars never went away, and he never blamed you for anything. He patted your head after giving you medicine and went to the bathroom to clean himself up alone. 

After he died, you took one of his jackets and the silver cross necklace he always wore. You sold the jacket at a pawn shop in exchange for food money, but you always kept the necklace with you. 

The necklace Niki was aiming for. 

“Tsk.” He clicked his tongue when you grabbed his wrist before his slender fingers could touch the necklace. He was told you were trained to fight, which was expected. By a veteran, no less. He just wished you had forgotten all about it after so many years. 

Pulling his other hand out for another attempt, his arm bounced back just as you were about to grab hold of it. You slipped past him, and he took your bafflement as an opportunity to reach for the necklace. He looped his fingers around the cross and yanked it off your neck, causing you to slightly lurch forward. Your chest hit the cash register, but you didn’t allow yourself a second to process the inconvenient pain. 

Hoisting yourself with both hands on the counter, you planned to jump onto the counter and tackle him, but Niki caught onto your movement quickly. Before you could jump, he focused his attention on one of your elbows and, within a second, twisted it with his head. The bone exuded a cracking noise that pierced his uncomfortable ears—he never did get used to the consequence of using his ability. 

You lost your balance and fell off the edge of the register counter, your face slamming against the surface on the way down. He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but not a second later, your functional arm shot up to use the counter as leverage to pull yourself from the ground. You emerged, panting with a nosebleed and, if Niki has to describe it, batshit crazy eyes.

But not red eyes. 

“Give me the necklace back!” you rasped out as you crawled onto the counter slowly.

He took a few steps backward, trying to debate to what extent he was willing to continue with the mission for his safety, but his train of thought was cut short once your feet hit the ground on the other side. You ran toward him at full speed, one arm held up to grab for the necklace in his hand. He cursed audibly and raised his arm to keep the accessory out of your reach. You pushed him backward in return, deciding to get him to loosen his grip instead of prying the necklace off his hand. Niki stumbled and hit his back against the glass window. You huffed in acknowledgment; you were right. He was as frail as a twig.

Regaining his composure quickly, he blocked a blow you punched toward his face and held onto your fist. His gaze hardened as if asking you to be the one to give it up, but you ignored his face to focus on his hand. Your thoughtful expression made him frown. He didn’t know you weren’t thinking of your next move as much as you were surprised that he had the strength in him to make your arm shake in a strength battle. After a momentary struggle, you decided it wasn’t worth the effort to keep at it, so you abruptly pulled back and went in with your leg.

Niki let out a choked groan, feeling a mouthful of saliva kicked out of him as his steps stuttered in response to your feet colliding with his side. His lanky torso was bent to keep his crown lower to the ground in case of sudden dizziness, and so you wouldn’t see his twitching eye because your kick reminded him of a long-repressed memory.

He’s been beaten half to death before. He knew how a middle-aged man’s fist felt and the attacks of a chronic fighter. You must be stronger than an average person; he could figure out that much by eliminating his experiences. The only issue at hand was whether you were under the effects of adrenaline or if you were purely strong enough to kill a man with a single hit. 

He has heard of some people with strength-type powers who committed manslaughter before, and he suspected the select group of people with top percentile powers could kill someone with one punch if they wanted to. You were, undoubtedly, part of that group. You haven’t killed him, though, and he didn’t think he wanted to risk finding out which one you were.

“I’ll ask again,” you huffed out lowly, your broken arm swaying from your body movement. He was still catching his breath, and you decided tonight wasn’t the night you sent an ambiguous teenager flying. “Give me my necklace back.”

Niki licked his lower lip and straightened his back. He met eyes with you. 

Still no red eyes. He was beginning to think maybe they were fed the wrong intel.

Holding onto his side, he panted with deep inhales and quick exhales. It was mercy. Choosing to negotiate when he was occupied was a sign of mercy. You were sparing him, and it was annoying. Not even his father showed him this much restraint, and he stole something irreplaceable to you. All he did to this father was grow up kind. 

That was it. That was what you reminded him of. His heart was beating out of his chest, the sound ringing heavily in his ears. He could feel the sweat roll down the side of his face, even though he hadn’t moved around nearly as much as he was used to. It was all psychological. He hasn’t felt like this since he stomped to his father’s workplace with the vengeful intention to kill him years ago. 

Shifting his gaze to the corner of the floor, he corrected himself with a few slow blinks. No, it wasn’t that. He hasn’t been this scared since he found his mother lying lifeless on the living room floor after a one-week school field trip. 

He slowly looked back at you—he knew your mother passed away too, and the man who took care of you after you were orphaned was killed. He felt for you. He really did. Your desperation was understandable. If someone tried to steal his mother’s remnants, he would do everything to retrieve them, too. He hated that he had to fight with you; this was the best scenario to bring out your power, which he was tasked to do.

“It isn’t worth anything,” you said. “It’s just a rusty necklace. It’s not real silver. You won’t get any good money out of it.”

It was stupid to tell him that. Sitting on the counter was a cash register stuffed with money, and if he could see the small necklace hanging around your neck, he must have noticed the register, too. He would have aimed for that instead of your necklace if he really wanted money. But why else would he take a stupid piece of junk? It couldn’t be for sentimental value, could it? Did Namjoon have a long-lost son he didn’t know of?”

“Please. The necklace means everything to me,” you pleaded. “You can take something else. I won’t say a word, I promise.”

Heat traveled to your neck, souring your nerves upon the embarrassment of not receiving a reply after begging. The necklace never wavered from his grip, though, and he never spoke to you. Pursing your lips, you huffed out a quick breath that bordered as a whimper, and then you readied yourself to advance toward him. 

The boy stared at you in silence, his hair tousled and a hand pressed abasing the side of his body. You did a number on him with that kick—it was intentional, but you didn’t want to seriously injure him. He deciphered that. He knew you wouldn’t hurt him when you switched to using your mouth instead of continuing with your feet. It was unfortunate that he has to go so far despite every bits of restraint you’ve shown him. 

Niki swallowed the knot in his throat as you ran towards him. He looked down at your legs and—crack! You dropped to the ground with a silent scream that got muffled when your face hit the floor. 

Tears gathered in your eyes and rolled down as you arched your neck to look at your dysfunctional legs. Your bones fractured, and the pain came from near your knees. You knew that. You could feel it. It must be the boy. He was the one who broke your arm. How embarrassing! You didn’t want to lay so helplessly before him. But your legs! Your bones! It has to be his doing because it was either him, or Enlightenment was at work. 

The feeling was familiar. Flashes of yourself struggling on the motel room floor passed through your eyes, when your legs bent in inhumane ways and the pieces of shattered glass cut the side of your hands. This was Enlightenment. It’s here. You could only sob, your eyes darting around to look for a nightstand and a glass bottle of fentanyl, then you tried to remind yourself you were at a restaurant, and the motel was an experience years passed. 

Enlightenment must have slipped through the cracks of your mind because you got too worked up over Namjoon’s necklace being stolen. This was your fault. You succumbed to the pain of your broken limbs and subconsciously wished, for even a second, that Enlightenment would come forth and heal you. This was your fault. How dare you wish for a healthy body, you insolent brat! You want the glory of being a God and not the pain of it. You were treacherous and devious, and you deserve only the worst part of Godhood.

You sniffed away the snot rolling down your nose. Oh, wait, your legs were broken—you widened your eyes at the realization and shifted them to your legs. Broken, unmoving—oh no, oh no, oh no! What should you do now? You should crawl to your bag in the back of the kitchen or try to grab the phone on the counter. You needed to call someone, anyone. Your arms still work, correct? Moving one of them, you furrowed your brows in question. You remembered you could move both of your arms back in the motel, and you were alone, and you destroyed your eye to keep yourself human. 

You were at the motel, correct? No. You were not. This wasn’t the motel. Stop thinking about that.

You felt a momentary relief, but you were unable to exhale. You couldn’t really breathe, you only now realized that. You couldn’t hear much of anything either. The air has traveled from your nose to your ears, filling them. It must be the pain—your legs were broken. Stop forgetting that. Your legs were broken. They’re broken. They’re broken. They’re broken. 

You hiccuped tearfully at the knowledge that you forgot the very state you were in. You were slowly spiraling into madness. Or descending to Godhood. You have already begun forgetting yourself. Enlightenment slipped past and has already started taking over. It wasn’t the boy who did this. What boy? You were transforming. Everything Namjoon taught you has gone to waste—you miss him. You miss Namjoon. He always wore that necklace. You remembered hearing him pray to the cross before his death, begging God to show you mercy, that he was willing to take two places in Hell in return for a normal life for you. 

This was your fault. You let this happen. The boy didn’t do this to you. 

The boy? The boy!

Niki watched you squirm on the floor as if battling with yourself. He wasn’t sure what he could do past this point, as he had no real intention of taking the necklace from you. Attempting to step away from your fallen body, he felt a sudden grip around his ankles and glared downward. You held onto his feet with one hand and screamed at him to return the necklace. He gasped in surprise and immediately pulled his feet out of your grasp, pushing himself to the restaurant's glass doors.

Your persistence was admirable, but beyond that, it was disgusting. A body with only one functioning limb grabbing onto him was a nightmarish story to tell. 

“Wait! Wait, no, please! I need help!” you wept, hyperventilated, assuming he was planning to leave you all alone to descend into Godhood. “Don’t leave me here–I’m sorry I kicked you! Please, don’t leave me like–“ you lost your voice in a sharp inhale–“don’t leave me to turn like this, please! I’m scared! I’m scared! Please, help me!”

Niki’s hands trembled as he slowly backed away from you. The door opened before his back could hit it.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Heeseung’s tone was somewhat accusatory, but Niki thought he could be imagining things. Turning around, Heeseung gestured for the quiet boy standing by him. “They’re panicking. Put them to sleep. We are going back to the manor.” 

Sunghoon nodded and brushed past Heeseung and Niki to head inside the restaurant. He stepped over your body, the corner of his mouth twitching against his effort to suppress a heavy grimace at the state Niki accidentally left you in. Crouching down next to your face, he made the choice to put a hand under your head and his other over it. He did not respond to your flinch but noticed how you gradually calmed down at his touch. He pursed his lips and gave you a small smile when the corner of your eyes turned to look at him. 

You blinked slowly in awareness of his presence before averting your gaze. His hand was big and gentle, and you felt his touch acknowledge your exhaustion. It took seconds for your eyes to close and your head to slump into his warm palm. Sunghoon habitually swiped a thumb over the dry river on your cheek before he released the hand on top of your head to snap his fingers near your ear. Once he confirmed that you were asleep, he carefully reached under your knees and around your back to hoist you into his arms. 

Heeseung pushed open the door so that Sunghoon could walk past. He didn’t leave any comment, only flashing Niki a pointed look that was in itself a question enough. Niki frowned, huffing air into his cheeks and blowing them out in disgraceful bursts while Heeseung watched Sunghoon open the door to the backseat. He hummed in agreement when, after a monotonous debate shown through the blanking of his stare, he saw that Sunghoon opted to keep you steady in his arms instead of laying you down. 

Heeseung returned to Niki after the car door closed. “Why did you do that to them?”

“You didn’t see how scary they were,” Niki retorted, pulling up the corner of his clothes to reveal a developing bruise on the side of his abdomen. He winced at the darkened skin and pulled his clothes down to cover it. “Ugh–they are strong, too. I expected it, but I really didn’t think they’d have the power without being fully–“ he rolled his eyes skyward to think–“God-like?”

Heeseung stared at the boy before looking down at the spot you were previously lying on. Judging by Sunghoon’s monotonous expression, you never allowed your power through. From start to finish, after having your necklace stolen and your limbs broken, you’ve kept it under control. Either you have insane determination, or you’ve lost your power through the years, leaving bits and pieces behind, which not only wouldn’t make you qualified enough to join The Manor, but it would have also made all of your suffering tonight in vain.

Or, even worse, he messed up and you weren’t even the person he was looking for. 

Heeseung heaved a sigh. Everything was already in vain. You never ended up showing him what he needed to see. “Go back to the car. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

Niki clicked his tongue and grimaced at Heeseung’s unhidden annoyance. He really believed he could have died under your hands, and this was the reaction he received—a judgemental look and a dissatisfied sigh. He’d tell Sunghoon and Heeseung to go to Hell if he could. 

“Hey, you gave me an end goal, and I worked toward it,” he said. “If you hate it so much, do it yourself next time.”

“You overdid it,” Heeseung scolded as he pulled his foldable cane out of his pants pocket. He snapped it straight and hit the side of Niki’s leg with it. “You also didn’t find out what we asked you to find out, so don’t give me an attitude and get back to the car. We’re going home.”

“Screw you,�� Niki muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

On his way out of the restaurant, he shoved his hand toward Heeseung’s chest. Heeseung glared at the younger boy, his hands flying up to catch the object being poorly transferred to his palms. When he looked down, he saw a silver cross necklace. 

You woke up in a bedroom that wasn’t yours. 

The sheets stacked on top of you were so heavy they may be designed to force you into slumber, which you’ve just woken up from an amazing one. You could not remember the last time you felt you’d slept for an appropriate amount of time, given you worked two jobs to sustain yourself. When you turned to the side, the pillow beneath your head a feathery weight that deepened according to your movements, you saw the light seeping through the edge of the tall curtains. Sitting next to the bed was a nightstand with a pot of a single fully bloomed daffodil.  

It faced you, and you swore you met eyes with it. 

Hastily sitting up, you slathered your hands down your body to feel for your work uniform and sighed when you realized you were still wearing it. Your arms and legs were moving normally, too. Whoever brought you here last night helped you immensely—the boy who touched your head. You have a somewhat blurry vision of his face, and you thought you didn’t get to see him for too long before you suddenly opened your eyes in this room. But you remembered you thought he was pretty. 

Reaching a hand up to your neck, you touched your naked skin and gently bit down on your lower lip. Your necklace was still gone. That boy with poorly dyed hair must have taken it, or perhaps you could bet on the man who saved you to have retrieved your necklace, too. Furrowing your brows, your back slowly arched in despair, and you buried your face in your hands. The odds of getting the necklace back were slim; you’ve used up all your luck when someone even walked in and saved you from descension. 

You roughened your face by rubbing it, attempting to match your movement with the frustration you felt. There was much you’ve got to do, such as explaining to your manager about what happened and, obviously, concocting a plan to get the necklace back. However, first, you believe you’ve overstayed your welcome, so you should thank the man for his hospitality and take your leave.

The room's floor was carpeted, and out in the hallway, it was waxed. But that wasn’t the point. 

You were greeted with a seemingly never-ending hallway once you opened the door. Widened eyes darted from top to bottom, left to right, and then you peeked out of the doorframe to find that you were stranded in nowhere inside what you assumed to be a mansion. Silence filled the cold air, but the place was well-kept and well-lit enough to not appear eerie. Multiple closed doors were bolted to the wall you came out of, and you wondered if they served purposes other than being a hallway of guest rooms. 

A curse left your lips as you walked onto the cold wooden tiles with your bare feet, your face twitching with baffled annoyance rather than amazement. It didn’t make sense that this was the kind of house you woke up to. How could the man who saved you be wealthy—irregularly wealthy, judging but the size of this building? What was he doing at a sandwich restaurant that pushes out meal deals for poor people quicker than a dog could respond to a doorbell?

“Where do I even go?” you muttered to yourself, your feet tipping left and right as you debated which side of the hallway looked more promising, even though the structure was identical. After a moment’s thought, you stopped to gather yourself.

Your priority was to find the man who saved you, but you’ve been met with an obstacle: his maze of a house. What a first-world problem to have, indeed. You could, technically, run around the place and pray that you bump into him or anyone at some point. The house was so quiet you thought you could be the only person there. However, you ran the risk of going further into the maze instead of finding a way out, which would waste both you and the man’s time, as he would have no idea where you were unless he installed cameras everywhere, which would make this house eerie. 

You shook your head to get rid of your thoughts, which you supposed were the actual time-wasters. Collecting your composure again, you put your feet together and closed your eyes, letting your head dip slightly into a bow. You pressed a palm to your chest to help yourself concentrate. 

“I receive the blessing that I will find what I am currently searching for,” you mumbled. 

You were met with a bud outside the window when you opened your eyes. It was yellow, supposedly a daffodil, except it was the size of a utility pole. The second you saw it, though, the knot developed by the heavenly blessing you gave yourself a second ago untied itself, meaning this flower bud was one of the many answers you were searching for. 

“Okay,” you nodded, admitting that you live in a world where such things are normal, “anyway.”

The daffodil bloomed open when you spun on your heels to walk away. The boy curled up inside extended his limbs to sit comfortably on the petal. When he noticed you in the hallway, he opened his mouth to let out a hoarse yell and leaned forward. The sudden weight dip made the flower tip dramatically closer to the window, and before he could react, he slammed against the glass, making you jump in shock. 

You resisted the urge to respond to the noise, being very in tune with the fact that you did not want to understand why a flower was knocking on the window as if it had hands. The man released his knuckles from the window and gasped in disbelief when he saw half of the grimace on your face as you moved along, ignoring him.

“Wait, don’t leave!” he hollered through the window. “My name is Jake! I’m supposed to come check on you!” 

You swallowed a gulp of saliva and spared him a glance. His glasses were perched right at the tip of his nose, likely having slipped that far when he fell and bumped against the window. His palms were pressed against the glass on either side of his head, and his lower lip jutted into a helpless pout. You noticed he was missing both of his fourth fingers, the knot of skin that sealed over the wound an uneven match. Anyway, he wasn’t the man who helped you yesterday. Although, with the size of this mansion, you wouldn’t be surprised that there was more than one resident. He could help you find who you were looking for. 

Upon receiving your attention, Jake’s shoulders rose giddily. He pressed his forehead against the glass with a grin once you neared, looking down at you from the flower he threatened to slip off. “Hello, good morning.”

When you shook your head to indicate that you couldn’t hear his mutters through the window, he pulled back with a brief gasp and pointed downwards. You followed the direction of his finger, your eyes traveling to the window frame where you saw the lock. Disregarding your dubious interest in why such a tall window was designed to be opened from the bottom, you approached it and fumbled with the lock, clicking it open. 

Jake dropped from the petal gingerly, the tip of his feet landing on the slim stool. The flower behind him shrunk then, leaving your sight. With immaculate balance, he maintained himself on the stool as he pressed his fingers against the bottom rail and slid the window upward to jump inside the manor. He dusted himself of invisible dirt before grinning at you, a hand bashfully waving. 

“Hello, good morning,” he greeted and pointed at the opened window. “That’s what I said just now when I was outside.”

You peered off to the side before reluctantly responding with a nod. “Hey.”

“You can walk now. That’s great,” he said, gesturing to your feet. 

He was still awake when the trio returned to the manor. The state you were in left him with a permanently opened jaw. He was part of the group that vetoed the plan to test for your power before bringing you to the manor, so he didn’t catch wind of the steps and procedures. But, still, he didn’t think immobilizing you to that point had been part of the plan. Heeseung and Jungwon were meticulous and determined to get their answers, but what happened to you was cruel. 

He stayed to watch Niki pop your bones back in place, your head on Sunghoon’s lap so he could better keep you in a deep slumber. He had offered to carry you to the guest room and put you in bed, given that he thought Sunghoon looked exhausted, but the offer was turned down. Jake didn’t think much of it. He assumed Sunghoon grew a brief attachment to you after having to access your mind to put you to sleep. 

You glanced down at them, a bitter taste circling at the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t say you had been more bothered by the pain than the potential reason behind your legs breaking. You couldn’t recall exactly what happened, but you were certain you had begged for help so you wouldn’t become a God, not to be taken to a hospital about your broken limbs.

“It wasn’t a good experience,” you commented. 

“I would assume so,” he agreed before clearing his throat and shrinking into himself. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

“Don’t blame yourself,” you said. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“True, but–“ he rubbed the nape of his neck and tipped his head side to side–“it is the fault of people I know.” It took him a second to register the sudden morph of caution among your features through how your lips twitched and your gaze hardened. He immediately extended his arms when you moved away, and then he held them up in surrender. 

“No, no, no! Don’t be scared! We won’t hurt you from here on, I promise!” He put one hand down to his heart, drew a cross, and pointed up at the sky. “I cross my heart and hope to die.”

You felt a cold quiver along your skin—Heaven has received Jake’s oath to you. Still unused to the passives of your power, in which your body perks at human practices related to Heaven and Hell, you rubbed your arms to rid of the goosebumps as you grimaced at Jake. “It’s not a good idea to swear to God in front of me.”

He raised his brows, his genuine grin returning gradually. “I know.”

“What?” 

“I know,” he repeated. “You’re them, aren’t you? The baby who sent a down beam from Heaven and killed every infant in the NICU.”

Your parents never spoke of that accident, and you were too young to understand what the continuous protests outside your apartment meant at that time. Namjoon hid it from you by omission, not intentionally, but because he didn’t feel it was something you need to know. Still, he explained everything when you asked about the whispers traveling between social workers. You have a gift, he had told you, and it killed everyone around you. It was fortunate that it happened when you were just born. People would have been able to recognize you now if it happened later in your childhood. 

“You–“ you trembled out a breath–“you knew?”

“Yeah. Technically speaking, we figured out the Heaven part on our own,” he clarified with a dismissive wave, his eyes rolling to the side. “The public doesn’t know about the Heaven part, obviously, but imagine if they did! The Government would have caught your ass so fast!”

You heaved a sigh and turned away from his big mouth, trying to block out his voice to prioritize your thoughts. 

You cared about the infants you murdered more than ten years ago. You dug into their names and their families. You memorized everything about them and visited their graves periodically. You’ve done whatever you could as an attempt to repent, and you’ve come to terms with what you did as a newly born infant. It was on the news years ago. Everyone has heard of it already. You’ve got no problem with that. The issue was that Jake knew the beam you cast down was from Heaven, unlike what the news broadcast assumed to be just a random light projection power. 

A lot of dirt had to be dug through for anyone to deduce that your power has an association with Heaven and Hell (and Jake got some guts of steel if he already knew and still swore to Heaven in front of you). The boy who stole your necklace yesterday must be someone he knew, then? Given that he wasn’t lying to you. What else? You have clearly been stalked for a while now, or at least researched and checked. Was the whole point of yesterday night to bring you to this place? What of the man who put you to sleep? He couldn’t possibly be part of this devious plan! 

“Woah, don’t stress about it. Everyone here has been through  some horrible things!” he mused.

“It’s not that! Have you guys been–wait, no!” You scratched the back of your head. “How many people–ugh, what?” You’ve got many questions and didn’t know where to begin. 

“We will explain everything at breakfast,” he interrupted your self-imposed struggle with a soft nudge to your elbow. He held onto your arm to pull you along with him before letting go to walk by your side instead. “I’m getting hungry. Come on!”

Your legs automatically followed him, walking down the hallway as he doused you in chit-chat. 

Most of them, you answered with silence and an occasional hum, such as random incidents that happened prior to your arrival with a bunch of strangers’ names inserted between the stories. Some of them, you felt the need to flash him a raised brow and give him an answer, namely when he enthusiastically asked if you were friends with the nation’s cosmic twins, whose power was similar to yours. You were not, but you always thought if anyone in the world understood your relationship with a God, it would be them. 

Initially unwilling to pay him any mind, you found his ability to talk nonstop a relatively comfortable aspect of him. He was soft-spoken and stuttered from time to time. Mixing his words with silly laughter made him the epitome of an unthreatening presence. The man who crossed his heart and hoped to die at the promise that he would bring no harm to you from now on—your body gradually lowered its guard as he walked with you, understanding that if you needed to feel alert, he wasn’t the proper target. 

“Jake,” you suddenly called. “Can I ask you something?” 

He made a questioning noise from the back of his throat, immediately cutting himself off from what he was saying. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“What’s, um,” you slowly turned your head and met eyes with him. His smile made you look away briefly. “What’s for breakfast?” 

“Oh!” He grinned, clapping his hands together. “Jay made traditional American breakfast. You know, with pancakes and syrup and everything.” 

You nodded, your hands habitually flying up to your chest to grasp at nothing. 

You’ve never had a traditional American breakfast before. 

Sunghoon fidgeted with his fingers when he saw you enter the dining room with Jake. To occupy himself, he continued setting the table as Jay requested. 

He was never big on talking about feelings, whether they be his or others. Ironically, he always felt the most in every room because of the nature of his power: to absorb emotions.

What originally started as a means to calm someone down slowly unraveled to be an ability to directly take away feelings. As he grew up, he learned that there were various consequences of doing that, and one of them was to induce sleep. Before he put you to a deep sleep last night, he placed his hand on your head to take your emotions away. Once you became a blank sheet of paper, you blacked out.

He has been using his psychic power since he discovered it. Still, unfortunately, his understanding of it wasn’t advanced enough to reach its full potential. Logically, since all the emotions he takes from others go inside him, if he could also swallow his own, he could just become a vacant vessel. But he hasn’t adequately learned how to do that, so he’s been forced to experience every emotion he absorbs from others. Your anxiety and anguish from last night—he would never say it, but he knew exactly how you felt. 

“Good morning, everyone!” Jake mused once he neared the dining table. Turning his head left and right for a quick scan, he smiled despite the empty chairs. “It’s just us old folks, then.”

“Niki is not coming down for obvious reasons, and Sunoo wanted to stay with him,” Jay commented as he went around the table to set a plate of hash browns and scrambled eggs down. “Jungwon said he will come to see [Name] when he is ready to apologize.” 

You gave Jake a quick glance at the casual drop of your name. He scrunched his nose to dissolve the tension in the air and patted your shoulder, telling you to grab any seat as long as food was in front of it. You licked your lower lip and rolled your eyes when he immediately left you after his voice dropped, running around the table to what you assumed would be his designated seat. Unfortunately, since you knew nobody else in this mansion, you thought your best choice was to sit next to Jake.

Turning to follow in his footsteps, you were abruptly greeted with a soft wall. Sunghoon put his hands up awkwardly when you stumbled backward to avoid bumping into his chest. He wanted to steady you but could not force his arms to move. He had mustered up the courage to approach you when he saw you were walking in his direction anyway. All he wanted was to do a wellness check, but he didn’t expect you to turn to him at the same time he stepped close. 

When you collected your composure to look up at him, you stilled in response to him wordlessly putting his hands on your head. You remembered his face, namely his quiet eyes. It took you a while to register how intently he was staring at you, and you deliberately looked at something else to avoid making prolonged eye contact. Sunghoon’s palms cooled with gentle traces of air traveling along his veins—you were a little confused but overall calm. There was a sliver of judgment, possibly because you noticed Jake’s pancakes were overly soaked with syrup. 

He removed his hands in relief once he ensured you were doing well. He reached inside his hoodie pocket to pull out a pen and a stack of tiny notecards. He scribbled something on it before flipping the card over. “How are your legs?”

“I am walking normally,” you replied with a nod and a pursed smile. Then, reluctantly, you gestured to your mouth. “You–um–you can’t talk?”

“I can. Don’t want to,” he opened his mouth to say before haphazardly writing on a notecard again. He turned it over to you. “Sign language?”

You breathed in a short gasp and shook your head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I write,” he muttered before pointing at himself. “Sunghoon.”

“[Name],” you introduced, then your mouth folded into a sneer not particularly directed at him. “You already knew that.”

“Oh my–come sit down! The food is getting cold!” Jake whined from his seat, finding it his sworn duty to ease any awkward tension in the air. Half his sentence was muffled by the cheeks full of food, but his distasteful glance and stretched-out tone told a more aggressive message than his words. 

Sunghoon spared Jake a glance behind his shoulder before complying. He side-stepped you, planning to go around the table to sit at his original seat, which would be on the other side. But, before he could make it around the corner, a soft yet distinctly clear voice halted his steps with a suggestion. 

“Sunghoon, go sit next to [Name].” 

Heeseung limped in slowly, putting most of his weight against his trusty cane. There were no signs of distress on his face or clothes, but the beaded wetness around the tips of his hair and the fact that he was walking with his cane told everyone in the dining room that his gout flared up again. When he noticed Jay’s raised brow, silently asking about his well-being, he responded with a pursed smile. It was nothing unusual, but if he could stop having them, he’d rather that. 

Jake stacked your plate with all sorts of food after you sat down, occupying himself with other tasks so he could take a breather from swallowing the sweets. You frowned at the unappealing formation he slathered your plate in—the syrup seeping under the scrambled egg, the pancakes soaked into a darker shade, and short strings of hash browns sprinkled atop three sad bacon pieces. If you weren’t so hungry, you would have openly complained about how it looked.

“How are you feeling?” Heeseung asked after he sat down with a suppressed groan. He set the cane against the table and pressed his hands together under it, looking at you expectantly. “Oh, and of course, my name is Heeseung.” 

You nodded; through the process of elimination, you could pinpoint who Jay was. “I’m walking.” 

“That’s wonderful,” Heeseung said, not particularly sounding like he was rejoiced to hear that. “But how are you feeling?”

Sunghoon lowered his utensils beside you and signed, “They’re feeling fine.”

“You made friends quick,” Heeseung mused as his eyes darted across Sunghoon, who answered a question directed toward you, and Jake, who he noticed dropped a mountain of food on your plate without being asked to. 

The way Heeseung spoke was bothersome but not frighteningly so. Talking to him felt like talking to someone who wanted nothing to do with you yet was socially adept enough to maintain a regular conversation and trick you into thinking his disinterest was all in your head. Judging by how he motionlessly observed you, you thought you might be correct to believe it was all your imagination.

You shrugged. His low tone of voice made your agreeableness shrink. “I won’t necessarily call them that.”

“[Name]!” Jake gasped, but when he saw your grimace, a face screaming at him that he couldn’t possibly think he’d made a friend on such short notice, he pouted. “Yeah, okay.” 

His disappointment—mainly the unapologetic way he showed it—returned your sympathy that Heeseung unknowingly stole by putting you under strange pressure. Your eyes softened, and your lips pulled themselves into a friendly smirk. You turned away from Jake before he could notice your demeanor change. Heeseung was still looking at you when your attention was on him again. 

“I’m sure you have many questions,” Heeseung said. “I also have a few about you.” 

You failed to stifle a groan. “I am the baby in the NICU.”

“We already figured that out,” he returned and leaned forward, putting his arms on the table and interacting his fingers to rest his chin on top. “We are more concerned about your power.”

You didn’t want to overthink the situation and debate if this rich and fulfilling breakfast was only a disguise to trap you in an interrogation, but with the way Heeseung hadn’t even begun to pick up his utensils since he sat down at a table full of delicious-looking food, it was becoming more blatant that you were here to be accessed instead of enjoying your meal. Tearing a fork through the hash browns, you plopped some into your mouth and chewed—either way, you were enjoying the food. 

“I can answer your questions about me,” you said after swallowing your food. “But you also have to answer mine.”

“That was the plan,” Heeseung said. He leaned back and gestured toward you with his hand before using the same one to reach over to the teapot set down in front of him. He leisurely poured himself a cup of hot tea. “You can go first.”

You exhaled quietly, the light in your eyes fading to light up the back of your head, where you have constructed an investigation board with barely any evidence and strings tying it together. Your confusion regarding the situation was immense, from the purpose of your being here to the location itself, but when you were allowed to voice your concerns, you found it difficult to make sense of them. You didn’t know where to begin, but you didn’t want to let Heeseung take the rein either.  

“We can start by introducing this place.” 

You turned to Jay upon his suggestion. He sent you a nod. “That would be great.”

“My name is Park Jongseong. You can call me Jay,” he said. “My family owns the estate we are currently in.” 

The house was not a mansion. It was a manor. Not that you could tell them apart; you only knew they have one thing in common: they’re both unaffordable. Jay’s family rarely frequented the estate in the past. Still, now that he had become the last descendant of his generation for a reason he didn’t include in the introduction, he decided to move from the city and officially make the manor his home. Along with himself, he brought Jake, his orphaned childhood best friend.  

The manor currently housed seven residents—Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo (a boy who grew the flower Jake sat in), Jungwon, and Niki, with whom you had a terrible first encounter yesterday night. Courtesy of Jay’s incredible sum of inheritance money, none of them were required to pay a cent to stay here. Jake laughed when he saw your eye twitch at the mention of free housing, and his laughter was not abruptly cut short by your deadpan stare.

“I do want to apologize on behalf of what Niki did yesterday,” Jay said after the brief introduction. “It wasn’t his intention to hurt you like that. I believe he panicked and made a terrible decision in the spur of the moment.” 

You squinted at him, dissatisfied. “Why are you apologizing for him?”

“We are responsible for the younger ones living here,” Heeseung answered. “Niki came to live with us after his mother died a few years ago. We didn’t have to look too far to figure out it was his father’s doing, but he couldn't be prosecuted due to a lack of evidence.”

That didn’t make you less angry at him, but you felt sympathy where it was due. The fact that he was only a child made it easier to change your initially rigid impression of him. You liked to think you would have never done anything of that sort back when you were his age. Still, given the assumption that he knew who you were and what you could potentially do, perhaps he wasn’t entirely wrong to panic for his life when you attacked him for your necklace.

Besides, you did do something like that, albeit it was unintentional. Between you and Niki, you weren’t all that. 

“We couldn’t let him stay with his father, so we brought him here,” Jake said, dropping his fork on the table and animatedly gesturing with his hands. “You should have seen the state he was in after he went to avenge his mom. His father beat him to a pulp in public, like in front of his colleagues and everything! That man has no shame!”

There appeared to be a pattern, which you should have deduced when Jake mentioned that everyone living in this manor has been through horrible things. Jay’s family was no longer here, Jake was orphaned, and Niki’s parents lived unfortunate lives. You looked around the table curiously, brows furrowing at Heeseung and Sunghoon. Sunghoon was quite taken aback by your sudden attention, but after spending a few seconds accessing you, he looked up at his friends from across the table and signed.

Jay stifled a chuckle. “He wanted to tell you his parents are alive and well. They just abandoned him.”

“So, technically, another orphan.” You nodded in acknowledgment. “What about you?”

Heeseung looked down at his plate as if debating his response. You waited, surprised that he didn’t have anything witty to slam at you, anything about a lack of manners and asking about people’s personal trauma after having just met them. When he looked up again, he was smiling faintly. 

“Same situation.”

“Okay, so, what? This is one freaky family of orphans?” you said, sneering almost. “Am I here to be recruited?”

“Not to the parentless children club, no,” Jay said. “But to something else.”

You leaned against the back of the chair and crossed your arms, impatiently exhaling a cue for them to start getting to the main point. Jay peered off the Heeseung, and they nodded. 

“Everyone here takes part in vigilante work,” Heeseung started. “Although Jay’s inheritance money should last all of us for a long time, we thought it was best that we don’t rely too much on it, especially with the unpredictable state of the current economy and the–“ he widened his eyes–“crazy property tax we have to pay just for this house.”

“What the hell are you–vigilante work?” you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. “You guys are like one of those pretentious, morally upright people who make citizen’s arrests to, what, make the world a better place?” You lifted your arms to make quotation marks. 

“We have law enforcement for a reason. The justice department literally introduced an independent investigation team.”

“You and I both know the police force isn’t helpful anymore in a world of randomized magic. Those with insignificant powers want to feel special, so they join the academy, and those with powers adequate enough to protect the public did better things,” Heeseung said. “The investigation team neglects issues on a smaller scale. Even if they don’t, they are ill-equipped to handle them. The twins alone are a walking natural hazard.”

As much as you didn’t want to agree with Heeseung, he didn’t tell a single lie. The police force, indeed, hasn’t been as helpful as the collective effort of the citizens living in a specific area. A nosy neighborhood auntie could disarm a robber faster than the police could arrive at the crime scene. And he was right that the investigation team was ill-equipped to handle regular tasks, as the collateral damage it has caused to the city has been reprehensible.

“I mean–“ You licked your lower lip and huffed displeasedly. 

“Why are you upset?” Jake asked, playing with his fingers. “Do you not believe in justice?”

“I do,” you said. “I also believe it’s not our place to serve it.”

“Leave it to the vessel of a God to tell us that,” Heeseung snarked. He maintained eye contact when you snapped your head around to glare at him. He raised his brows, the tip of his tongue lightly poking against his inner cheek. “You are one, aren’t you? It’s your turn to answer a question.”

“Something like that.” You shifted on your seat and sighed. “Maybe not a vessel, not exactly.”

“I’m not too concerned about the nomenclature of it all. I just need to know if you still have that power,” he cleared his throat, “because we would like to have you in our group.” 

Unfortunately for you, that was not an unreasonable request. “How do you guys work?”

“A popular website was created a while ago that allows people to post any suspicious individuals or activities they’ve witnessed. We have been picking interesting cases from there and starting our investigation,” Heeseung replied. “Once we figure out the logistics, we go in, catch the guy, and send them anonymously on their way to the station.” 

“Uh-huh.” You lowered your head and asked in a humorous whisper, “Are you guys secretly trying to surpass the investigation unit?”

Heeseung’s lips stretched into an amused smile for the first time. He looked pointedly at you, his torso leaning forward as if he wanted to share a secret. “No, but it would be funny if we did that.”

“Whatever,” you scoffed. “But here’s what I don’t get–why do you need me?”

You haven’t thoroughly explored the powers of everyone present at the table yet, but you didn’t think it was necessary to recruit more manpower when Niki could be a one-man army as someone who can manipulate bones with his mind. Besides, one of the residents could literally grow a giant flower solid enough to carry a grown man inside. How hard could vigilantism really be with nutcases like them on their side?

It wasn’t as if you were easy to handle, either. You may have the power of Godhood, but it has to be activated for you to reach your full potential, and once you reach your full potential, you will no longer exist to help them. You have spent your entire life trying not to activate it. Not only that, the sentience of Enlightenment should be a threat to everyone around you. Would they be able to deal with who you’d become once you reach that point? Would they want to? 

“We have been meaning to expand the scope of the cases we take,” Heeseung said. “Instead of scratching off online posts, we thought maybe it’s time to start taking orders for monetary gain. It’s always the more the merrier when it comes to those kinds of operation.”

“Right,” you muttered. “What’s in it for me?”

“You can quit all your jobs now and move in with us. It’s free housing, besides being sent to work on different cases occasionally. You can have your own room. We have a garden outside, a swimming pool at the back, and a greenhouse. Whatever you can think of,” Heeseung listed casually. “If you’re uncomfortable asking for money whenever you want something, Jay can always arrange to get you a card to use whenever you want.”

He had you at free housing and quitting your customer service jobs, but you let him finish because you didn’t want to seem too desperate to be out of your current tax bracket. The vigilante work didn’t bother you as much; it was a reasonable price to pay for everything else you would receive. As for your impressions of the manor’s residents—Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay were fine; some others you haven’t met; the rest you were cautious about, but nothing being a little avoidant wouldn’t solve. 

This manor was huge. Seeing its seven residents was an option. 

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll join you guys.”

Jake grinned, and Sunghoon visibly perked up at your agreement. But, before one of them could let out a celebratory holler, Heeseung waved his hands with an interrupting cough. He cleared his throat with an amused smile and settled down once again. It was great that you agreed to join the residence. However, he still needed to ensure your usefulness before offering you anything. 

“We still have to make sure your ability is intact,” he said. “The whole reason we sent Niki to the shop yesterday was to check for your power, but he didn’t get an answer.”

“If you’re looking for my Godhood–um, huh? Wait a minute.”

You heard Heeseung the first time. His words were clear as day and straightforward—Niki was at the sandwich store yesterday because they needed to check if you still have your power. You understood that the first time he said it, but the depth of its connotation failed to hit you until a few beats later. 

Niki was at the sandwich store yesterday. Niki tried to steal your necklace and railed you up. Niki broke your bones and triggered traumatic memories.

“You did all of that just to test out a theory?” you asked through a clenched jaw.

“Well, not to test out a theory. It’s more to answer a ques–“

“My limbs were twisted. I was crying on the floor,” you gritted out, your hand flying up to your chest to touch for something no longer there. “Do you know how important that necklace is to me? I’m sure you already knew. I’m sure you asked that boy to take it from me so you could get me to use my power.”

It must all be so fascinating to them. The idea of Godhood, the absolute power of Heaven and Hell. To them, your power was an ascension, and Enlightenment was to be reached. 

But they would never understand. The guilt of accidental murders, the stress of keeping a mental cage mature enough to defend yourself against a concept inherently yours, the loneliness of self-isolation, and the pain of becoming. You’ve lost people and become alone. You’ve had people, and you were still alone. The road to the end was unforgiving, as was the destination you were cursed to tread.

They would never understand. To them, you’re just a question to be answered. 

Redness covered your eye, glitching and twitching to make itself show. You’ve had it, it seemed. Still, it was so fascinating to Heeseung that life and death did not trigger you enough. Could anger be the defining starter instead of endangerment? Or were you just extremely good at controlling your emotions?

Everyone shot up from their seats when you pushed your way out of yours and bolted toward him. Your utensils slammed against each other when you pushed the table's edge, and the chair screeched against the floor as it got shoved. Sunghoon reached out for you, but his fingertips brushed only the faint of your hair before you were out of reach. For the first time, he understood why Heeseung requested him to sit next to you. In the worst-case scenario, he can calm you down best. 

Heeseung exhaled through his parted lips and stood up. His knee hurt, but he neglected his cane to walk to an open space. He watched you make your way to him, your intention to harm evident in your aggression, but he did not respond with the same caliber. He faced you with a bland expression and, before your fist could come in contact with his face, dropped something from his hand. 

A silver cross necklace dangled on his finger. You halted in recognition.

“This does not belong to me. I’m sorry I took it from you,” he said, gently reaching out for your hand. He helped you lay out your palm and returned the necklace. “I really do apologize for Niki’s actions yesterday night. I hope if you don’t forgive the event, you hold it against me instead of him, as he didn’t agree to the test.”

Your red eye twitched. Looking down at your palm, at the silver necklace, you thought you could smell the residue of blood that once stained it. You held it in your hand and pretended you could access Namjoon’s brain and know what he would do, but the cross was always a reminder that he was gone. You were never delusional enough, and he wasn’t predictable enough. You’ve grown up without his presence. Your decisions were for you to make.

And you say you wanted retaliation. 

A loud smack echoed through the dining room. Jay looked down at the ground, his eyes meeting Jake’s widened ones on the way to ignore what he saw. You felt a sting on your hand, which you knew felt much worse on Heeseung’s cheek. 

Heeseung closed his eyes to settle himself. He moved his jaw, clicking it as his hand moved up to touch where you’d slapped him. “I deserved that.”

“Yes,” you whispered, your eyesight coming back to you. You clutched the necklace in your hands. “It made me feel better.”

His chuckle was airy. The sudden beaming from your body, in contrast to how monotonous your voice sounded, was funny. “I suppose that’s the least I could do.”

The dining room fell silent for a moment. You watched Heeseung’s smile fade after the exchange, and for the first time, you realized how delicate his features were. 

Jake leaned his torso over the table to check if you two were still talking. He pouted when he saw that there’s only a bunch of standing involved in this silence, so he clapped his hands for attention and dropped them to his side. He shrugged, his brows raised innocently. “Well, are they in now, then?”

Heeseung’s eyes softened, and he nodded. 

[vampyprince]

is this a long route, or am i just slogging along anything without eito?? ❗killing game + 2nd scenario spoilers

damn, tsubasa... damn tsubasa.

it's honestly baffling to do this route. i know sirei isn't here to push karua dreams on takumi... but he legit brushed karua off as just like a 'sister',,, but takumi also called daruko 'like sisters', so i don't trust takumis sis radar LOL

it just goes to show that everyone is such a blank slate. they have their backstories implanted, but.. they essentially were born in the LDA classroom... their first time existing in their bodies.

it makes sense that everything that happens can lead to significant impacts on takumi (and everyone else)'s personalities and motives.

in some routes, takumi was completely focused on nozomi's happiness and NOTHING else. in other routes, he sincerely connected and cared about darumi. in others, he was so eito brained and killed everyone. takumi could be anything... it just depends on what choices we make for him.

im aware there are several different endings for this route... but i always choose the safest, most compassionate options... I THINK,,

if i (takumi) were to give in to the ruthlessness and killing, i bet a much darker takumi would be born.

detach yourself...

it's just work...

take.. their lives..

he was starting to lose it a bit in his murder zone, but i might've prevented that outcome.

i imagine a scenario where takumi is fighting the 'invaders'.. he detaches himself, tells himself its just work... and strikes down.............. a fellow friend. completely on instinct.

imagine if he did so to the tsukumos... and it gives us a takemaru who is more vengeful... might even make him try to kill takumi on his own. i could see that....

pain,, takemaru just wanted to protect the young twins.. he was a true hero despite the part where he was attacking nozomi

i just hope ima doesnt do anything stupid. i doubt he'll let go of his distaste of takumi. BUT, he is also very calculating... so, sabotage isn't out of the question.

who even is this new sponsor?!? they give off eito vibes imo... saying they want to ~play~ with takumi.

fuck, nothing makes sense, so i don't make sense either!!!

at least we have nozomi, and kamyuhn.. and our girlfriend tsubasa and her girlfriend darumi and our cuckold yugamu

eito, i miss you so bad. i'm hallucinating that you're everywhere ;~;

so takumi has eito INSIDE him

darumi has hiruko INSIDE her

tsubasa sucked up took on half of takumi's sins.. so i guess eitos inside her too (i know what tsubasa did is figurative, just being silly)

nozomi has eva INSIDE her

poor yugamu is just BEGGING takumi to let him hit, but only gets denied.... yugamu really gets the short end of the stick in this situationship.

i hope theres a branch where yugamu and takumi are just a ruthless duo plzplzplz

still... thinking about how shion is in danger.

and is v'ehxness behind the invader hunt? it doesn't seem very possible... but, she wanted the SDU to be stronger for her to fight...

but it was the first sponsor who seemed so excited over us hunting and batting, the current sponsor is more.. flimsy? the second sponsor led us to an enemy base to wipe out (nearly) the last of the invaders...

the third party (and fourth, sponsor 1 and sponsor 2 respectively), must have a motive that involves v'ehxness someHOW.. whether to aid her hopes of stronger warriors to fight, or to crush her army... i cannot tell....

they really packed in all the fast pace, confusing twists in the killing game route,,, my brain cant take all this in one day! i need my answers, but my brain doesnt want to take it aaaaa

time for a honk shoo mimimi

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.224 thoughts

[FOUR MORE YEARS! FOUR MORE YEARS!]

(Contents: immediate reaction - excitement; narrative analysis - authorial intent; character analysis - Chikara/Luna; speculation - Luna/Ragnarok/UU)

WHAT'D I SAY?! WHAT'D I TELL YOU?!

FOUND OUT THE GOAL, BIG MOMENT FOR CHIKARA!!!

SET UP FOR ALL OF THE FIGHTS almost EXACTLY AS I PREDICTED!!!

Didn't see Yusai vs Justice coming and Julia/Tatiana aren't present for the fights yet, BUT EVERYTHING ELSE IS LINING UP!!!

If absolutely nothing else, this strongly indicates that we're at least making it to the anniversary, since Tozuka didn't specifically write in an excuse to skip everything like just breaking the Planets or something

In fact, the inclusion of the Planets not only draws things out on the basis that there's more to do, but explicitly removes available shortcuts

Authorial Intent

I said during the previous Ragnarok that the key to success this time around would be the addition of all of the members who were missing previously, such as Rip's ability to deal irreparable damage, and this chapter illustrated my point from back then perfectly

Not only is Latla's Untrust able to divert Sun's instakill attacks with ease, but Gina's Unchange and Void's Unavoidable create a combo that Sun needed to use Change to block

I'm not saying that Sun would have been defeated with that one attack, I'm sure he would have found another way to prevent it or retaliate afterwards, but the fact that he used Change at all is a tacit acknowledgment of the threat

Had Tozuka gone through with the final round of Quests, Change wouldn't be present here and Sun wouldn't have a way to neutralize Unchange, and consequently Sun would have taken serious damage. Instead, though, Sun now has a way to alter the properties of oncoming threats, retaliate with heavy weaponry, and presumably tap into the powers of all of the Master Rules in some way to counter anything the Union throws at him

In short, Sun is far stronger now than he was before. If the Union of today fought in L100's Ragnarok, it would be a short and anti-climactic battle, and that disparity was possible because Juiz took out all of the Master Rules previously. What many of us perceived as skipped content was, in actuality, a planned twist in the formula to raise the stakes and create a much more compelling conflict

Naturally, raising the stakes in turn also increases how impressive our cast can be as well

The GOAT

I tell ya, folks, when I saw Chikara stroll up with his hair pulled back into a ponytail, I nearly lost my damn mind. I've been saying for years that I wished he'd do that instead of the onion-cut, and boy do I feel stupid for not realizing Tozuka was saving it for a special occasion

Look at my boy. He's beautiful

And more importantly, like I said a few weeks ago, he's also the toughest son of a bitch on the team! He asked Billy to teach him superhearing, and our boy mastered it in a third of a year! Not only that, but he's standing up to God again, steady as a goddamn rock, no fear of what the literal sun is going to fire at him this time around

Sure, he doesn't remember getting his arm ripped clean off his shoulder, but that doesn't mean he's ignorant of what he's up against. Fuuko made it clear that every attack from Sun is a oneshot, but Chikara's ready, and not just because he's got fancy airpods in

No, the major difference between this time and their previous encounter isn't just that Chikara's expanded his interpretation of Unmove, but because this time he isn't alone

Andy and Juiz were getting ready to face off against Sun when Chikara waltzed up and said "I'll keep him from moving," and the other two (reasonably) figured they could focus on attack, turning their backs to Chikara. This left a perfect opening for Sun to fire off an attack from behind, a tactic that Creed had previously demonstrated to be available against Unmove, so they probably should have seen it coming

This time though, they were prepared. Chikara not only has Rip and Sean backing him up upon his arrival, but Andy and Fuuko themselves were ready to leap into action at a moment's notice to protect him from Luck and Death

In a manga all about teamwork and coordination, I don't think there's a single character who encapsulates the spirit of Friendship better than Chikara. Though he's never able to deal a finishing blow himself, he arguably carries the most important supporting role in the Union in basically every fight he's in. In turn, he's only able to provide that support thanks to the support he receives from everyone else, through training, equipment, protection, and faith. What he does for them, they do for him

Like I said, though, that's pretty much true for every member of the team, hence why everyone needed to be united in this Loop to have a chance at winning, Chikara is just a very good focal point for illustrating the concept because of how his ability works. No one member can shoulder everything alone, nor will anyone expect each other to. Everyone has a part to play, and everyone will do everything they can to see to it that they do. It's that interconnectedness that allows the Union to be as successful as they are

And that's the one thing that Luna just can't understand

Missing the Forest

Luna quite literally spends all of her time secluded from the world and the lives she helped create. She sits at her own Roundtable, clearly able to fit many people, with but a single chair and a cup of tea, only really interacting with anyone when they come to her

She's seen the power of humanity's bonds countless times, but she has no real concept of friendship or camaraderie because she's never personally experienced anything like it. Much like how it took Victor nearly 500 billion years to understand how much he loved Juiz because he didn't allow himself to feel attached to any of the lives he was constantly seeing end, Luna has never formed any attachment to the pawns on her side of the board, and thus can't conceptualize that they themselves have attachments to each other

This is what Fuuko means when she tells Luna that "[she doesn't] know a thing about us Negators];" in both instances, Luna takes what she sees at face value - Juiz died using Rebellion, and the man-made "Aegis" is really just a very big Unbreakable shield - and assumes that there's nothing more to it. Juiz's death supposedly took the strongest source of hatred out of the loop, and an Unbreakable shield can simply be pushed into the Earth like when Andy fought Sick

What she didn't know, though, was that Juiz's death stirred a change in Victor, and that the shield was just the setup for Chikara to stop Sun's attack without getting in harm's way. Luna couldn't foresee the ripple effects that any individual's actions or contributions would have for the rest of the team because she can only look at each of them as a single independent player rather than a cohesive whole

But strangely, I think she does know that she doesn't know how relationships work

The Missing Piece

Last week, when Luna started Ragnarok, she said something both cryptic and telling

I want you to show me the true value of the Rules, unknown to me

The Rules themselves are already a complex, interconnected system, wherein a change in any given Rule requires massive shifts from everything else to compensate, such as the loss of UMA Insect completely changing a forest landscape into a swamp to account for the ecological loss of important food sources, decomposers, pollinators, etc. The introduction of Negators, exceptions to the Rules, adds yet another layer of complexity to that web, as not only do those Negations interact with each Rule in a unique way, but each other as well

Luna obviously understands that basic idea, that the Negators are capable of working together, but she doesn't understand why, and that's what this is all about. I think she's trying to work out the exact mechanism of human interaction and relationship maintenance specifically because it's the one thing she knows she lacks

Her part of the wager with Sun was that humanity could reach the Gods, and I think what that means to her may be for humans to elevate themselves as a whole to literal divinity so that her empty little Roundtable won't be so empty anymore

This is likely why the three core Rules of the game are Soul, Death and Change; if humanity can change properly after death, then their souls can persist to achieve true immortality and godhood

And that's why Luna is willing to put Sun in the lead, to give him a power-up while the Union is unprepared. It's a gambit to force humanity into a position where they need to change and grow, whether it's to prevent their deaths or to survive their deaths. Either way, it was never really a wager with Sun; he was only ever a tool to create that circumstance

Rigged From the Start

Currently, Sun is trying to destroy the Earth's core (which may imply that the Earth itself is a UMA or a God, I think that'd be a fun little twist right at the end), presumably with the intention of creating one final Earth in the image that he wants, but given Luna's behavior, it seems likely that she always intended for this outcome to happen

Like I said last week, chances are very good that the Union will lose here so that we the audience can see what one or both of the ideal worlds of the Gods look like. This will allow for one final push from the Union to wrest that world from the Gods and create their own, showing how much better off humanity is in their own hands

Seeing Sun blasting through the surface of the Earth for hundreds of miles suggests that we'll first get to see him win, and all of the Negators will die in the process (likely excluding Andy, though it'd be wild if he somehow died too). However, because souls have already proven capable of exerting their will even without Rules like Ghost around, the Union and possibly all of humanity will come together to oust Sun's ideal world and take back control

The question is whether the world that results from this will be Luna's ideal or if they'll have to overcome and negate hers as well. Either way, I'm putting all of my bets on humanity doing what they do best and negating the rule that were only meant to be 101 rounds

Honestly, that would even make a perfect metaphor for the current real-life situation the story is in. So many of us thought the game was done last week, only for there to be a loophole and a second wind

After the End

Like I said last week, Tozuka's usual method of "one story beat per chapter" perfectly sets up the possibility that we're going to make it right up until the fifth anniversary, and this week's chapter fit perfectly with my prediction. However, it's entirely possible that that's exactly what he wants us to think

Even if every Master Rule fight goes exactly how I predicted, that doesn't mean that the final fights with Sun or Luna will, and the "climax" of the series that would be set on the anniversary might be the moment where Sun seems to win, only for it to turn out that there's still a few chapters left

It's common for Jump manga to get one or more special chapters in Jump GIGA or other magazines after their conclusions, either to wrap up the story or to give a little bonus, so I think it might be interesting if UU did a bait and switch by saving its real conclusion for that, though that would definitely kill the pacing

It might also be fun if it pulled a Bleach and ran normally but started numbering those chapters differently to highlight how things have changed, but again I'm not sure if Tozuka wants to be that extra with it

Assuming he wants to do things normally and has the blessing to go on a little longer, Tozuka is definitely capable of making UU last until at least May by breaking up each fight and event for three chapters each. In other words, whether Jump is rushing him out the door or letting him take his time, Tozuka is primed to end UU at a time when new blood is set to come in, so there doesn't seem to be any threat that it'll end abruptly between rounds

Considering that UU is getting a presentation at Jump Festa to discuss the Winter OVA and the dramatic boost in pre-order sales that the latest volume got thanks to this little scare, I doubt that Jump has given up on it just yet, and is likely to let Tozuka do what needs to be done to reach a satisfying conclusion

The main question is whether or not they'll continue to fund the anime, and I think the critical response to these coming months will be the deciding factor

It's easy for fans to come to the defense of a series they think is in trouble, but if they think it's just doing fine, then the suits may have something different to say on it. When future volumes, Blu-Rays, or whatever merch comes out, we can't just sit on our laurels and say we saved UU one time; we have to keep up the fight until the bell rings. If we're really lucky, the UU anime will keep going even after the manga ends and we'll get a complete adaptation like Demon Slayer, Hero Academy and likely Jujutsu Kaisen

Keep reading, keep watching, keep buying; whatever you can do to show Jump you love Undead Unluck, do it. I know I will

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[a-grim-thin-hope]

Hi there! I'm Jael.

You might know me from two nearly, vaguely "popular" works on the archive if you like Mouthwashing and/or Messmer from Elden Ring. Nobody coerced me to make an account except my own darn self. I always loved interacting with authors I met online or when I appreciated their works--and as I happen to love to chat, figured I'd throw myself at your mercy.

Shoot me questions, comments, concerns, quetzalcoatls, insults, hate, proposals of marriage, and any variation on a theme such as your favourite books, poems, songs, or time of day. I will answer them all.

Ask me for a fic rec! There's at least a 20% chance I've got one for your fandom and there's so many fics I've collected over the years that are so peak and need more attention.

•✧• •✧• •✧• •✧• •✧• •✧• •✧• •✧• •✧• •✧•

If you were curious about my works or what I have going on, let me give you a brief overview:

POSTED:

WAITING FOR ME TO GET FAITHLESS (BUT I WORSHIP THE GROUND)

Elden Ring, 1/1 (16k), Messmer/Tarnished, Messmer/OC, Rated G.

Making her way through the Realm of Shadow, a Tarnished Witchmaid comes across the Impaler in his grim Keep and begins to wonder if there's not some way to change her fate--and his. You see, she really doesn't want to be Marika's consort.

Features: a character study into Messmer, fancy old modern English, tense yet curious dialogue, belligerent tension, unwilling intimacy that comes from fighting your not-quite-enemy for hours, and the growing desire to make the tall hot snake man your legal husband. She's just a girl.

EXCERPT:

"The darkness ahead of her shifts, fading with the light of the candles. The raised dais, like a pillar among ruins, holds a throne similar to that before the Erdtree. And in it waits Messmer, his spear thrust into the ground beside him. He rises to his feet, lanky, slender, and wholly menacing. Most Demigods and divine-adjacent had their visages ravaged by the Shattering and their part in it. Yet not Messmer."

YOU KNOW YOU'RE BETTER THAN THIS

Mouthwashing, 1/1 (34k), Curly, Anya, and the rest of the crew, Rated T, Time-Travel Fix-It with a Twist.

Jimmy kills himself and takes the easy way out. Curly, trapped in the cryopod, wishes more than anything to take the responsibility his deranged co-pilot wouldn't. Days before the crash, the Captain wonders if he's going crazy, suddenly haunted by a maimed, limbless man that none of his crew can see.

Or: Curly, Anya, and the future ghost of his mistakes.

Features: well-rounded characters that try to stay as close to canon as possible, a messy and toxic friendship between Jimmy and Curly that nonetheless tries to look at each angle, an exploration of Anya and a prevention of her canonical full assault, the friendship between Curly and Anya and how it should have gone if he listened, all orchestrated by the weird appearance of Post-Crash Curly, following himself around.

EXCERPT:

"He hopes wherever he goes after death, it isn’t nice to him. He hopes he never sees Anya when he’s there. [...] He wonders if Jimmy will be there too, and can’t find it in himself to be content about that, but thinks it's probably fair."

WIP/PLANNED:

MAY DEATH FIND YOU ALIVE

Death Note, 1/1 (9.8k--?), Lawmane (L/Misa), slight One-Sided Lawlight, Probably Rated T, Slightly a Fix-It, Mostly Canon-Compliant, Largely a Character Study

In the dead of night, L’s surveillance is interrupted by an unexpected visit from Misa Amane, turning what should have been a one-off conversation into something that quickly spirals out of control. Soon, neither can ignore the delicate (and very foolish) curiosity that unfurls between them—nor return to who they were before the lines blurred. And so, the quiet destruction of Light’s new world is set in motion.

Features: a no chain, no torture AU, a Misa who isn't sidelined and is developed more while keeping her core the same, a faithful characterisation of L that looks into his mind and keeps him alive, a touch-starved genius whose intense focus begins to shift, a recognition of how key Misa's loyalty and devotion is, and a whole lot of gratuitous tension, physicality, stunted emotions, and fanservice (for me. I'm the fan).

EXCERPT:

"Cameras were usually so kind to Misa Amane, perfectly capturing the beauty that was so eagerly pasted across thousands of magazines in Japan. In the dim haze of the headquarters at night, though, L's feed did her no favors. He liked her better that way, nearly... [...] It wasn't any conceived notions about standards of attractiveness, or a leering hunger at the expanse of pale skin. There was just something more honest about a person when they had clawed their way out of sleep."

[aotopmha]

What are your thoughts on the whole Mikasa's new family thing? As a normal person with some romantic experience, I think it makes sense for her to have a family and not be stuck single on a dead guy for life. As an AoT fan who can basically not separate her from her 'Eren' rhetoric, it feels like a twist... or dare I say, betrayal? I wish we had a bit more padding to the ending, because it seems these things were wrapped up very quickly, and besides the literal deaths, I feel like my girl Historia and Levi got such bitter endings...

This is quite a few questions so I'm answering them in a list:

1) I really like Mikasa moving on because from the framing of her final moments in the story and the passing time in the extra pages and credits, I feel like she had a mourning period and then was able to move on and start a new family, something she always wanted. And I think earning that ending is at least some (and an appropriate one) reward after what she went through.

2) She has always loved Eren, but she has also punched him in the face when she thought he was doing stupid shit and being hot-headed. She threw him in chapter 1, punched him in the face in episode 2, is perfectly capable of making her own decisions without him, which was the point of the first half of episode 6. As much as she loves him, her attachment has actually comparatively little to do with him and everything to do with the death of her parent(s) figure(s) twice in a row in the span of a year when she was a child.

(Episode 6 in the anime, chapter 5 in the manga.)

Her attachment to Eren has caused a bunch of issues and is her biggest "flaw", but she has never been a *doormat*, which is what so many people read her as and I disagree with.

The decision to kill Eren was made by her when she saw families and children suffer because of him, something she can deeply relate to and works to prevent.

(Chapter 48)

Mikasa isn't a crying damsel, she's a warrior who went through some pretty tough shit and is reacting accordingly.

She will fight when she needs to fight and do the right thing when she needs to do the right thing.

3) Pacing was actually probably the biggest issue I personally had with the manga's ending, but the anime pretty much fixed all of it in my eyes. Mikasa's feelings for Eren, though, and vice versa was one of the most obvious things about the entire story from start to finish, so you've got a disagreement there as well. From the moment you see the subtle blush from Eren in the flashback, the trope became really clear to me and nothing onward from there really convinced me otherwise because Eren never had any other relationship like that in the story, no other love interest characters or characters framed in relation to his character in the same way.

4) Likewise, I think Levi probably had the best ending out of every single character in the story. As much of a pyrrhic victory as defeating Eren was, he got his revenge and kept his life. He got the most strongly defined closure he could get in context of the story.

5) What I agree with you on is how Historia was treated, though I'm not sure if for the same reasons or in the same way. The final arc basically destroyed her character and the anime equally did not even mention or even have a nod towards any of her defining moments as a character or her important relationships (because I suspect Isayama just could not figure out how to write her in this context in any other way).

In my eyes, she went through one of the best, most strongly defined character arcs in the entire story, but all we got from it was a metaphor for the birth of a new world... through a clearly gay-coded character. It's pretty awful and contradicts the theme of freedom her character is about and embodies by the end of the Uprising arc AND the general ideas of freedom the story is about, but I choose to put it in its own awful box and reluctantly close my eyes to it.

I think her arc was about her finding out what she wants and no longer living in a role and I think the entirety of the final arc went against that.

I've gone into why Historia's arc is awful in many other asks and posts, so I don't feel like reiterating it all right now (I have a tag for her character and pretty much all characters, so if anyone is interested, you'll probably find my detailed thoughts looking around there, but, yeah I think it's pretty awful even if you don't see her as gay-coded.)

Thank you for the ask!

[somewhereunderthebridge]

A Life Update (001)

Hi everyone,

Today's a little heavy. A lot has been happening in my life recently that has been upsetting, distressing, and heartbreaking; yet, today brings that into a painfully sharp focus.

Last night, my biological-father was involved in a bad car accident while at work. He had recently gotten clean from drugs after decades of addiction, got a job, and found a home for himself. Life, however, is a cruel mistress; he'd finally started getting his life right, only to now be fighting for that very life.

We were told this morning that he was stable and alert, though there was a risk that he was paralyzed. This afternoon, however, he's now being rushed into surgery to hopefully prevent his death and it's been officially determined that (should he survive) he is paralyzed down from the neck. Should he survive, he will most likely need round-the-clock care.

While he was a cruel man in my youth, I've never wished anything ill to happen to him. I'd always told him that if he got clean and proved it to me, he could be in my life again. Sadly, it seems the one time he got sober and stable, that may not be an option due to a twisted dose of fate.

My family and I are praying he'll survive, though we are deeply hurt by the fact his quality of life will be bleak. My mother and I are currently trying to figure out how we're going to get to Texas (the state in which he resides) should the worst happen, though it'll be a struggle. Even if he does survive, it would only seem proper to make the trip regardless. We'll most likely have to take a flight, which neither of us have ever done. We've debated starting a GoFundMe to cover the flight and hotel stay upon arrival, though that doesn't seem right to me (I'm just not someone who likes to take strangers money online). Hopefully, family will step in and front the cost. If not, I may have to update this post with a GoFundMe. Right now, we're all playing things by ear.

Anyway, I'll keep you all posted. I'm feeling very numb at the moment. I'm not exactly sure how to feel, as horrible as that may sound. Our relationship has always been tumultuous, though reality has a bizarre way of hitting the hardest when all you can remember are figments of how things should've been. I hope he gets a second chance at life - that he and I can get a second chance at establishing a genuine father-daughter connection. Yet, as I've learned (especially within the past few months), it's best not to have expectations until you have evidence that they're worth having.

I only ask that you all spare my family some kind thoughts, good vibes, and (if you're a believer) positive prayers. Thank you for your understanding.

× Edit: He pulled through surgery. They had to fuse his neck back together, as he'd been internally-decapitated. He's lucky to have survived at all given that fact. He's still not out of the woods, but that's as far as my family and I know for now. I'll continue to update when I can.