#and now knowing what i know... its totally plausible

[critterofthenight]

dunno if i've already talked about this, but before i got into the magnus archives, based on the "jon during the seasons" fanarts i thought that the worm scars were eyes slowly appearing all over his skin as he's losing his humanity, first just looking like, well, scars, and in the end, they open up and start to actually See. and let me tell you. i'm still kinda obsessed with the concept.

[snowfieldstories]

beyond the screen.

kim dokja x fem. writer!reader no scenarios - au

warnings: none, just candy floss fluff <3

w.c: 4.8k

a.n: I made you the writer of a web novel similar to TWSA, because it was difficult for me to imagine Kim Dokja following and cherishing a book in any other genre for that long. Your surname is "Cha," but your first name remains your own ◡̈

continued from this prequel ask + hcs

[AUTUMN]

houji-cha -- how does 3pm sound? that cafe u told me about Sent 09:21

Your fingers tap along the keyboard, drumming the keys without pressing down, in an effort to expel the anxious energy balled up within.

He still hasn't replied. Your reader, that is.

The sole reader of your silly little (little was an understatement...your work was a certified beast of a book) web novel that you had penned for years now. Thirteen, long years. It started as a passion project, a fun and creative outlet to help you successfully procrastinate on your homework back in middle school, and quickly snowballed into an outlet for the angsty drama of adolescence.

That falling out with your old best friend? She became a conniving witch of a woman that backstabbed the main hero. The pack of wannabe-chaebol kids that terrorized your early years of high school, before you transferred and made new friends? They were hybrid beast-demons that tried to destroy the hero and his companions, but failed, and died horrible and gruesome deaths. Your first boyfriend, first love, first everything? He, too, made it into the story—a love interest for the protagonist that, when your real-life relationship soured, kick-started the hero's endless series of regressions to have the plausibility to write distance between those two. (He even prompted a title change, which was a huge pain to do but totally worth it in the end, because you were quite satisfied with the new, current title.)

Every bitter moment, every spark of joy and achievement, every fear, doubt, hope, and all the other feelings that were much too much for your heart to handle, were poured into this story.

An Endless Dream is your diary; but it's also your baby, the love-child of your creativity and turbulent emotions.

It's your soul.

Somehow, it isn't all that scary to bare your soul on the open internet like it should be. Maybe because there is only one person to bear witness.

Your loyal reader.

��─ .✦

endlessdreamer -- Sounds good. See you saturday at 3 PM. Sent 20:08

Kim Dokja presses a palm to his rapidly beating heart. There. It was done.

The cup ramen sits cold beside the keyboard as he leans back in his chair. Today is Thursday, which means he has less than forty-eight hours to mentally prepare for a meeting with the author of his favorite, most-cherished web novel. A novel no one else dared to continue after the first 100 chapters—

And Kim Dokja likes it that way.

It was as if the novel were made for him, written just for its one reader, and allowing him to escape within the story in a sanctuary of words from the grenades that life enjoyed frequently lobbing at his face.

His eyes slide across the line of text he'd just sent. In two days, he would meet you, the author; the idea makes him equally exhilarated and sick to his stomach.

Your response had popped up while he was at work, and his mind was scrambled for the rest of the day. Once home, he let an hour slip by to continue agonizing over the perfect response. "Sounds good" is casual, right? Not too eager, not too cold...

Fear grips him once more.

Kim Dokja is used to this fear. This time it made itself known the moment you asked to meet over coffee.

What if...you were disappointed by him?

Their sole reader, a man nearing his thirties, working a lackluster job at a gaming company. Friendless, really, unless you count the author themselves. Which he wants to, but he knows better.

It isn't friendship without real reciprocation.

Maybe he can't be the author's friend, but he does have a friend in the novel you wrote.

So Kim Dokja tosses the cold ramen, strips away his work clothes, and huddles under the covers of his bed, the only light being the white-glow of his phone as he reads your story.

His author would be wearing a red scarf.

It's a rather feminine thing to wear—but Kim Dokja doesn't let that thought linger, because if you were a woman he might actually lose his nerve.

Kim Dokja's hand hovers over the white, wool coat. He told you he would wear it, the only piece of clothing he owned that stood out enough, but regret has him hesitating.

It isn't often that Kim Dokja spends his hard-earned cash on luxuries. This coat, he had spotted in the window of a store the day after landing his current job (months of searching, more months of rejections), and, still high off of the rare win, he bought it on a whim. Now he kept it stuffed in the back of the closet where it couldn't mock him for wasting money on a lavish purchase, on a job that he hated.

But he told you he would wear it.

And so Kim Dokja slides his arms through the sleeves and adjusts the collar in the mirror. While he's at it, he pushes his hair away from his forehead. Then he ruffles it back—it's not like he was going on a date or anything.

The day Kim Dokja had a date would be the day an apocalypse threw the world into ruin. "Kim Dokja" and "romance" did not go hand in hand; they didn't even cross the same plane of existence.

He arrives at the café thirty-two minutes early.

Nerves quickened his pace there, and they leave his feet restless now as he shuffles in line to order. He gets to the front and orders two hot drinks for this chilly, autumn afternoon.

Kim Dokja knows you like tea, specifically houjicha, like your user-namesake, but doubt has seized him.

Kim Dokja berates himself for not asking for your order, because what if you don't actually drink houjicha often or what if you prefer it iced over hot, or as a latte, or an iced latte...? And then: I'm here too early and the drink will go cold anyways.

As the thoughts grow thick in his mind, he scans the room.

In the corner booth, staring out the window, is a woman in a fluffy, red scarf.

Kim Dokja flinches in alarm, his toes point towards the door, ready to make his escape, when your eyes suddenly meet his. And you smile.

You are beautiful.

He can't hold your gaze for long, so he purses his lips in what he hopes resembles a smile, and gathers the two drinks to join you. He places the tea in the empty space in front of you, but he doesn't sit.

"Author."

"...Reader."

You both stare for much too long. Then you jump in your seat and gesture across from you. "Please, sit."

Kim Dokja sits. He fidgets with his plain coffee. And, shockingly, he is the first to break the silence. "It's a hot houjicha. Sorry if you don't like that, I didn't know what...I just thought with your username—I can get you something else?"

Your eyes—far too pretty, and much too real, thinks Kim Dokja—gleam as you lean forwards. "It's my favorite. Exactly hot, too."

His heart stutters in his ribcage in a delightful way, but also terrifying.

"I was going to order one eventually." You grow bashful as you speak. "But I came early. I, ah, wanted to drink it with you here..."

Kim Dokja finds it easier to breathe when he realizes you are nervous like him. You stick out a hand.

"I'm Cha—"

You tell him your name, and he repeats it, rolling the syllables around his tongue like a sweet candy. He now has a name for his author, "houji-cha." He also likes the play on your name and favorite drink together, it's cute and snappy, just the way a writer would do it. His hand meets yours awkwardly. "Kim Dokja."

Kim Dokja waits for the usual reaction. It never comes.

Your head cocks to the side as you smile. "Kim Dokja. Pretty...and accurate. A true reader's name."

Pretty snaps him out of the daze of hearing your tongue click over his name, a sound that seems to fall naturally from your lips, and sends a heat up his neck to the top of his ears.

"You're pretty, too." It takes two full seconds for the horror to settle in. "Your name—your name is pretty. Too."

Now you both sport matching blushes.

You unwind the scarf from your neck, a murmur of they cranked up the heat awfully high in here under your breath.

"I wanted to meet you," you say. Then you take a deep breath. Kim Dokja readies himself for rejection. "You're my most loyal and dedicated reader, after all. I wish I had something worthy to give you, for all of your support, but I'm...rather selfish. I actually wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," says Kim Dokja in awe, his eyes widening. Of course, he hadn't been expecting to receive anything. You didn't seem to understand that speaking with you was a gift all on its own.

At his lack of hostility, you appear to reignite with a determined energy. "What do you think of the latest chapters? The direction things are headed? I feel like there's something stale between the main characters. Oh, but I'm curious which characters are your favorite? And what do you think of the apprentice, you know, the character you suggested I add? I tried to get her just right, from the way you described, but I..."

As you prattle on, Kim Dokja, your sole reader, falls deeply and solidly in love. Even if he doesn't yet realize it himself.

Just like that, romance has crossed into his plane and dropped right in his lap as the genre of his life tilts towards this new, budding relationship with his very own author.

── .✦

You chickened out.

You had met with the intention of hearing about his bad day, to provide a source of comfort or a shoulder to lean on, but then you went and blabbed about your own stupid novel for the full three hours.

Yes—three. Hours.

It wasn't entirely your fault, I mean, how were you to know that your reader would steal your breath away with his handsome face?

He had seemed nervous at first, too, but it didn't take him long to grow comfortable once you started talking about the book. But not you. Even now, after multiple meetings—each hang out becoming more relaxed than the last—you are still shy around him.

Kim Dokja.

His name always sends giddy flutters throughout your chest.

You like him. Really, really like him.

You like Kim Dokja's playful humor, and you like his subtle intelligence. You like the sound of his laugh when you say something clever, and his kind and earnest conversation. You especially like his face, not only the beauty of it, but also the way he expresses himself, in little quirks of his mouth when he was pleased, or the wrinkle in his brow as he considered something, and the enchanting sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you. You didn't even know that real-life humans could have sparkling eyes.

All this to say—you are perfectly in love with Kim Dokja. Certifiably so.

And it was becoming more obvious by the day that your reader-protagonist character is entirely based on him.

The protagonist has always been based off of your loyal reader. It was partly a way to thank him for supporting your novel since day one, and partly because you had always found him interesting, especially once you two began messaging often in private, beyond the comments.

You wonder why he never says anything about it. But perhaps...perhaps he doesn't know?

"Why do you continue to read An Endless Dream?" you ask as you sip your tea.

The café is bustling today. Kim Dokja watches a chatting group for a moment before he responds. "It's a story with life that supports my own."

It's a startlingly honest statement. You have learned a tiny bit about Kim Dokja's past, and this only further intrigues you. But from the way his eyes latch on to his resting hands, you know that it is not yet the time nor place to discuss such things.

"Hmm," you murmur without thinking. "That story is my life."

It slipped out, and you don't mean it negatively. You hope he doesn't take it the wrong way. But when Kim Dokja looks up at you, eyes soft, you are left breathless.

Kim Dokja looks at you so completely, that you feel like he has read and understood every crevice of your soul. And, in a way, he has.

He knows you. He has taken the time (thirteen years, time) to learn you intimately, and you realize that no one has ever gone to such lengths. No one had ever bothered to try. Except him.

Something delirious rushes to your head as you realize this.

Even if Kim Dokja wasn't reading to read you, per se, he must have since come to realize that you pour so much of yourself into your novel, that reading it was akin to reading you.

You're still swimming with warm, bubbly feelings when you part ways a few hours later.

[WINTER]

A funny recollection occurs to you one day.

"You know, I was a bit afraid you would be an old ahjussi." You giggle at the affront on Kim Dokja's face.

"Huh? Why?"

You shrug. "The way you type. It's like an old man."

"Aren't you older than me?"

"That's true." A mischievous grin spreads across your lips. "Hey, you should call me noona, then."

Kim Dokja's ears are a delightful shade of red as he turns his head away. "N—noona. Right."

"I was only teasing," you say, poking his cheek. His head whips back towards you at the contact. "Unless you like that sort of thing."

Kim Dokja's hands flail for a moment, before he grabs his cooled coffee and drinks. Your laughter rings out freely at his disgusted grimace from the now-stale liquid.

"You should switch to tea. It still tastes good after it's gone cold."

He surprises you by swiping your drink. Your eyes are stuck fast on the way his plush lip hits the lid, his throat bobbing as he takes a sip from the very hole you had been drinking from. It makes your gut curl with something hot and pleasant.

"Mm...it is good," he says.

"Good. Then we can share." You reclaim your tea, your fingers brushing his own, and take a sip.

Back and forth, you share the tea until it is gone. The heat in your gut has mellowed into a steady warmth, a warmth that gives you the confidence to stand up abruptly.

"Let's go for a walk." At Kim Dokja's silent gape, your confidence dwindles, so you add, "If you want...that is? Um, if you're not busy..."

"I want to."

Kim Dokja springs to his feet, tugging on his white coat, and only pausing a moment before he's wrapping your red scarf around your neck and knotting it with his slender fingers.

Then he's pressing against the small of your back as he holds the door open for you. Rubbing your knuckles after catching you blowing hot air onto your frozen fingers. Enveloping you in his comforting heat as he leans into your side while you walk and talk.

Perhaps he hardly even notices that he does these things. But you do.

You're savoring each of these touches, squirreling them away in your mind to recover later and write as little details in your novel. It's to have a record of them for yourself, and it's your own subtle way of telling your reader that you notice. That you care.

"Dokja-ya," you test out before you part ways. You relish in the flush you've brought to his cheeks with just his name. "Are you free tomorrow to visit the Han River illuminations with me?"

It's bold of you to suggest bumping your next biweekly meeting to this very same weekend for the first time. But you ache with the need to see Kim Dokja more often. You crave more of him, his presence and his mind. Your fingers tap nervously at your side as you wait.

"I'd love to," he says warmly, and his smile makes you melt in the frigid, winter air. "M—maybe we could get dinner before?"

"Yes!"

You cringe inside at your quick over-enthusiasm, but he doesn't seem to mind. You make arrangements for where and when, and then you're both bidding farewell.

You make sure Kim Dokja is far, far away before you start skipping home.

── .✦

Kim Dokja has a date. Maybe.

No, it's definitely a date. He's going to take you to dinner and walk along the Han River to view winter illuminations—everyone knows that the Han River is Korea's number one date spot. And your plan this evening is probably what every couple in the city is doing this time of year.

It certainly sounds like a date.

But Kim Dokja allows that insecurity to take hold of him; he won't let himself believe it until he hears that word fall from your lips. (He would like to do a great, many things with your lips besides listening to the interesting things that come out of it...)

This time when he slips on his white coat, it's easy. You complimented the way it looks on him once, and Kim Dokja has never been more eager to wear a piece of clothing ever since. He's lowered the cost-per-wear rapidly in a short amount of time.

He goes to meet you outside the train station, and when you come up the stairs his breathing stops.

Breathtaking.

Every time Kim Dokja sees you, he thinks that, but tonight you seem to glow from within—glimmering eyes that feel like they see no-one but him, warm cheeks that apple with your smile as you spot him, lips that curl...

Damn. He's thinking of your lips again.

Kim Dokja shakes off these unruly thoughts and greets you. It doesn't take long for you to reach the restaurant.

"Soondubu jjigae, please," you say and close your menu neatly.

He orders his own soup dish and frowns. If this was a date—not that he's saying it is—then perhaps he should have taken you to something more romantic, like an Italian restaurant.

You misinterpret this conflicted expression. "Ah, it's a little basic, I know, but I just can't help but love the silken tofu."

"No!" he blurts out. "I didn't mean—it's not basic—I like soondubu jjigae, too!"

Kim Dokja knocks his chopsticks off the table in his panic.

You stare at him. And giggle. "It is a very good soup."

"Yes..." Kim Dokja feels embarrassed now.

"Dokja-ya." Your voice is sensually sweet as you call his name, and all that blood flushed in his face rushes south. "I'm really glad we did this."

Kim Dokja just might combust before the maybe-not-date is completed.

"Me too," he says faintly.

Then the server brings him a new set of chopsticks, and you tease him with a joke that he can't help but return, prompting you two to slide back into your usual, easy conversation for the rest of the meal.

(And Kim Dokja's...lower problem resolves itself by the time you two stand up, thankfully.)

It isn't until three-fourths of the way into the illuminations path that this natural rhythm is broken.

Kim Dokja had been agonizing over your hand for most of the walk. It is close, brushing his with air every so often, and gloveless—he knows you must be cold, but for some reason you stubbornly resist pocketing your hand to warm it back up.

You shiver out a cloud of breath and your hand clenches.

He's going to do it, he's going to hold your hand, and his pinky just barely taps yours—

"Kim Dokja-ssi!"

You both turn. "Yoo Sangah?"

Kim Dokja doesn't catch the way you freeze as his coworker bounds up the path to greet him. He misses the way your eyes widen in pain upon seeing the warm, sincere smile this gorgeous woman is sending his way. He certainly doesn't notice that you've slipped your shaking hand into your pocket at last, its tremble not from any seasonal chill.

"It really is you! Oh—who is this?"

Kim Dokja snaps out of his confusion in time to exchange your names. He is entirely unaware that both women are still left wondering: who are you to him? One, in excited and good-natured interest, and the other, fueled by a bitter distress.

Yoo Sangah takes it upon herself to determine the answer.

"It's nice to meet you. I haven't heard about you yet...that is, Kim Dokja-ssi doesn't really talk about himself much."

"Ah, doesn't he?" you respond stiffly, feeling worse than before.

Something in your tone makes Kim Dokja refocus on you. He doesn't like the way your body has turned slightly away from him, your jaw uncharacteristically tense. Are you too cold? he stresses. Or perhaps you were uncomfortable meeting new people...this was sprung on you, after all.

Yoo Sangah speaks up again. Her sharp, observant gaze lands back on Kim Dokja. He feels something ominous in the air.

"Pardon my interruption, you must get so little time with your girlfriend already, what with our terrible work hours. My own girlfriend begs me to quit every day."

Kim Dokja frightens at the word. "N—no—that's not, um—"

"We aren't—sorry, did you say 'girlfriend'?" your inner turmoil comes to a halt.

Yoo Sangah's smile is closed, eyes bright with mirth, like she's trying to suppress something, as she nods. "She's over there."

You both follow her finger to a short, black-haired woman who scowls upon gaining the attention of your group. She absolutely, without a doubt, does not look like someone who begs for anything from anyone. "Hurry up!" the woman yells.

"She's not exactly fond of social interactions," Yoo Sangah says diplomatically.

Kim Dokja is glad that the previous challenge has passed, but he still senses a threat looming over him.

"Maybe you can encourage Kim Dokja-ssi to speak up more in the office," Yoo Sangah says to you, suspiciously teasing. "He often has good ideas, but he can be so shy—"

"Right! We'll be going now," says Kim Dokja loudly. "Enjoy your date!"

Kim Dokja is nervous, so nervous, because he realizes that Yoo Sangah has spotted something of his feelings for you. His mind is frazzled enough that he doesn't think twice when he reaches for your wrist, poking delicately out of your coat pocket, and tugs you away from his coworker who now wears a devious smile.

"Enjoy yours!" Yoo Sangah calls out in one final, devastating point of attack.

Kim Dokja's frayed nerves are shot. Man down, he despairs. He can only manage a weird grunting noise in acknowledgement.

He remembers to slow down when he hears you puffing. You stop in front of a tangle of lights forming a snowman in a bright pink, green, and neon blue abomination.

"Yoo Sangah is a coworker of mine. We don't really talk often." Kim Dokja feels compelled to make that expressly clear to you.

"Perhaps you should," you say, thoughtful. "She seems genuinely kind."

"She is," replies Kim Dokja, distracted by the feel of your skin under his fingers where he grabbed your wrist.

Now that he's touched you, the overwhelming desire to hold your hand returns with a vengeance. As if possessed, he tugs your wrist free of the pocket—and for some crazy reason, you let him.

His hand slides easily into yours, like it was meant to be there all along.

"My hand was cold," Kim Dokja says foolishly. His thumb rubs circles around your knuckles.

Your smile is soft. "Then allow me to warm it up for you."

The rest of your walk is spent hand in hand, accompanied by blushing cheeks and frequent glances. Neither of you have much to say. Instead you two let the enjoyment of each other's presence wash over you, and there is a warm emotion brimming in the space between.

Truly, Kim Dokja has never been happier.

[SPRING]

"I'm thinking of ending the novel."

"What?" The word comes out too fast, and Kim Dokja jostles the still-full cup of earl grey. His face is pink as he uses his shirt to dab at the spill on his hand; you both had already traveled too far into the park to turn back for napkins. "I mean—do you not like writing it anymore? Or there aren't enough readers..."

You hum in thought. "It's true, I do only have one reader. But he's the most important one."

You enjoy the awestruck smile that settles on Kim Dokja's face at that. Then you take a few more moments to hide in the silence, both of you continuing your slow amble down the path, before you steel yourself to risk confessing something.

"I started An Endless Dream because I held too much of myself inside. It was starting to fester, it was wearing me down, and I needed a way to vent. I was never very good a keeping a journal, so I began to write," you muse. "I kept writing. And as I wrote, I went from searching inwards to searching for something outside myself—A dream. To find someone that wanted to learn about me the way I had used the story to learn about myself...I—I suppose I longed for a dedicated reader to the story of me."

Kim Dokja is locked in on you, enraptured by your words and the way you duck your head, shy.

"Well, I'd like to think I've found that. But, um, actually I have a final plot arc in mind, too; I want to write a happy end for those two."

"The two life and death companions?" It surprises Kim Dokja. There is nothing wrong with the two male protagonists ending up together, but he had never picked up on any romantic subtext. Maybe he is too inexperienced with love to recognize that sort of thing.

You shake your head, feeling a restlessness creep up. "Actually, not them. I've always thought the reader-protagonist and...the writer...that is, the writer will confess her love for him. And they'll end up together?"

"Oh," he says. Your cheeks are practically steaming by now.

There is a long moment where you are unable to look at Kim Dokja, and Kim Dokja is too stunned and uncertain to speak to you. He withdraws out of his own head long enough to spot the tremble in your body and blush on your skin.

Writer. And reader. The writer and reader, together. Confessing love.

Then understanding snaps into place.

"OH." The to-go cup tumbles out of his hands as Kim Dokja slides them around your shoulders to stop you in your tracks. "Me? Do you really mean—us—?"

Your own hope is reflected in his face as you peer up at him with wide eyes, smile soft with pure adoration. "Of course I do."

The smile Kim Dokja wears is as sweet and radiant as only someone with a reciprocated love could have. A pure, unbridled joy that you swear then and there you'll protect for the rest of your days.

A spring breeze sweeps past, and no writer could have orchestrated a better scene as cherry blossom petals dance around your heads the very moment Kim Dokja leans down to kiss you.

It's a bit clumsy, a touch unsure, but then he's cupping your jaw and your arms are winding around his neck to press up against him. Your lips slot together, two puzzle pieces fitting just right at last.

Kim Dokja breaks away. Your protest is quickly dampened as he connects your foreheads, whispering, "I love you, writer of mine."

Your heart thrums, singing back to him. "And I love you, my reader."

It is an ending more satisfying than either of you could have written, or read, about. An ending just for you two.

a/n: writing in present tense is hard and i never want to do it again (pls slap my fingers if i do, ok?)

[hey-must-be-a-devilbetween-us]

Just been thinking about how when Aziraphale said that 'Nothing Lasts Forever' and Crowley immediately took that in a totally different way than Aziraphale intended.

The look of surprise and confusion that quickly becomes desperation that takes over Aziraphale face as Crowley walks away, he calls out to him, begs him to come back to him, and quickly covers it up with 'to heaven.'

he didn't mean them, he would never mean them.

(a lot more under the cut)

the places would change, the circumstances would change, the people and the play and the drama would change, they have always had different seasons of their relationship.

but them, together, as always been as constant as the tides and the phases of the moon, even if they get separated for a month or a decade or a century, they always come back together.

Also been thinking about how Crowley doesn't have faith in a lot of things (for obvious reasons), but the most heart breaking is how he has no faith that underneath it all, no matter what, Aziraphale loves him and wants to be with him, even though he has a mountain of evidence of it.

Its been pointed out that Aziraphale this whole season has seemed to be trying to get closer emotionally to Crowley, 'shooting his shot.'

'Its our car, its our bookshop, its our plan to save Gabriel, take my hand lets dance while you tell me what's wrong my dear boy.'

More than just an arrangement, more than fraternizing, more then just friendly banter over drinks and food, it always was more, but now they can act like it, Aziraphale is going for it in his own way.

and Aziraphale is so obviously frustrated during the fight that Crowley doesn't see that.

but come on, you can't blame Crowley at this point, Aziraphale is effectively asking Crowley to change literally everything about themselves and forget a millennia of trauma and anger and guilt and self-loathing.

It sure makes it seem like Aziraphales love is now suddenly conditional on them changing.

I don't think Aziraphale sees it that way though right?

He doesn't see it as 'I will love Crowley more if they are an angel.' he sees it as 'Crowley will be happier as an angel surely? They will also be safer with that designation.' and 'any sacrifice will be worth it if it means we'll finally be able to be safe and together.'

See, I don't think Aziraphale even wants Crowley to be an angel again.

I think he's trying to convince himself that he wants that, which is what makes the Metatron offering that in the first place so damn insidious.

I think in his heart of hearts, appointing Crowley to be an angel again is just as much of a sacrifice to him as leaving his beloved bookshop, leaving earth with all its wonderful music and color and life and stories and people, but what does that say about him as an angel?

Everyone can sneer and look down on him for having affections for a demon but there is some plausible deniability that its just bad circumstances, Crowley just happens to be a demon but he's really very lovely once you get to know him, in spite of it all.

But like...giving Aziraphale the opportunity to make Crowley an angel again and he doesn't want to take it because...he loves Crowley exactly the way he is? That he may have had a crush on the angel he was, but it was truly The Demon Crowley that he fell in love with.

I think Aziraphale is gonna need some time to get brave enough to say that with his whole chest (but dear lord will it be wonderful when he does.)

And the Metatron knows this, and he knows Crowley is exactly who he is supposed to be, and so The Metatron knows that Crowley could never ever say yes to going back, it goes against his very nature, he knew that Crowley would take it exactly the way he did.

(Ergo more evidence that splitting them up is the whole goal because they're just too powerful together.)

So, Aziraphale is stuck in the worst way I can imagine.

He's given the opportunity to have everything he should want, so he's trying to make the best of it even though it decidedly isn't what he wants, because its evident that the meddling from Heaven and Hell isn't going away, the Metatron is giving him the path of least resistance, isn't that going along with Heaven as far as he can?

Every word he says to Crowley about how wonderful it will be and how this is an amazing opportunity and we'll be together and we'll make better choices, we'll make a difference.

Its trying to convince himself just as much.

I think Aziraphale is terrified of going back to heaven by himself, but what other choice does he have? He's terrified about what will happen if he doesn't, and not because of any explicit threat by the Metatron, but what it would imply about him, if they knew exactly how he felt about Crowley, what might they do to them both?

and that's why the Kiss™ is so horrible and beautiful at the same time, its harsh and it looks like it hurts when their teeth bump together and it is so desperate, but Aziraphale still clings to Crowley, trembling and whimpering (jesus christ sheen...)

More than an expression of romantic love (because by God herself have they expressed it in so many ways for thousands of years,) its a plea to stay, choose this, choose us.

And Aziraphale wants to, but he can't, and its agony, but how could he explain that to Crowley when he barely understands it himself, he doesn't recognize what the Metatron has done.

That's why Aziraphale seems just as angry at the kiss as he is fucking devastated, its not a 'how dare you kiss me,' its an 'how dare you kiss me right now, in this moment, when if it had came earlier everything might have been different."

"How dare you kiss me now to just let me know everything I'm giving up, and not just because you wanted to."

"How dare you make this our first kiss."

Aziraphale doesn't see the Kiss™ as the Hail Mary that it is, he sees it as a spiteful bitter thing, something that he has been yearning for forever being twisted into something to hurt him, but I think he can see the sadness and fear in it too, so he forgives Crowley for it.

And of course, Crowley takes that to mean, "I forgive you for kissing me when you know that's not how I feel, for trying to manipulate me." or something to that effect, either way its enough for him to leave the conversation, nothing more to say.

I think Aziraphales next arc is going to be all about being open and honest and brave, which is in exact juxtaposition to the traits that made him grow closer to Crowley in the first place and that's what really fucking gets me.

From giving away the flaming sword, the entire damn arrangement, trying to thwart the apocalypse, to the very fact that he loves Crowley.

"I'm a fallen angel! I lied! To thwart the will of God!"

"Yeah, ya did, but I'm not gonna tell anybody, are you?"

"Then nothing has to change."

Except it did, and it does, if they are to get their happy ending in their cottage in the south downs.

anyway, yeah that's all i wanted to say i think, how was your guys week so far?

gif credit:

@starklystar @raggedy-spaceman @spooks-ez

(if i missed anyone or miscredited pls lmk!)

cont in reply (i like what i wrote here so i'm trying to keep track lol)

[penguinlife]

Honestly, it all seems super sus. Jake's IG story post of Nic at the SAG awards was my first, what now. The comment from Jake on the pic and like from Nic. Strange, but ok. Now Nic and the dancer are following each other. If Jake and A have been misdirections/decoys all this time, it totally makes sense. If this is damage control to save Luke's relationship, it is odd. We all saw what we saw. Authenticity is key. We don't believe Nic and Jake are together. The way sweet kind Luke treats A is so out of character.

If Nic and Luke is so set on selling the narrative that they are not fucking and are just friends. Maybe find plausible other halfs, not a backup dancer and an aspiring actor. They are way too young, and it looks bad for both of them.

Something else I noticed is the reference that Nic looked like Cinderella in that pretty blue Dior dress. You could see the panic in her face when the reporter said it. Benophie is supposed to be a Cinderella adaptation. There was almost no fan attention paid to the Benophie story after the Tadum Valentine's Day event. Everyone was pretty focused on Polin and baby Featherington. I wonder, and it is just my thoughts. Maybe their contract renewals for S5-S8 might be on the block. Does Shondaland want them out of the way for the other stories. The way Nic and Luke pushed so hard that Yarin Ya and Luke Thompson are doing such a great job and that it is going to be great. It sounded very odd. As both were specifically asked about them in S4. Not a general question of the show. Also, Nic has changed focus to baby Polin in interviews. She rarely talks about Pen and Colin. I'm pretty sure there is pressure from Netflix for more Polin. They look at numbers and don't care about whose turn it is to lead.

Then I also thought that maybe they were not allowed to date, that it was in their contracts. If so, it is a major overreach.

I have said it before and I will say it again. You can not control SM. It is a beast of its own. Nic and Luke want to lie to themselves. That is also fine. Do you know who were just besties before they hooked up in a carriage? Pen and Colin. So good luck, besties. May you have lots of intimacy scenes to act out your heart without dealing with your feelings in rl.

I almost forgot to also mention, has anyone seen any photos with Nic and the rest of the enamble except for Luke?

The way Luke and Nic saw each other on the red carper was so authentic. He was doing an interview, and the interviewer pointed her out. He had a truly honest reaction seeing her. No cameras were on his face, but we could still see his jaw fall open the same way as it did on the BTS wedding clip. He then stands there for a second, deciding if he should interrupt her interview. But he is so overcome that he can't control himself. Then she has a totally real reaction to seeing him. She looked surprised. There was an honest delay in her reaction. And then she looked elated.

He pulled her into the hug that lasted just a few seconds too long to pass for a friendly hallo. It looked more like they needed that hug to survive. Then Luke immediately steps back when the interviewer comments that their outfits match. Realisation that they were just called out. They proceed to do 2 other interviews together. The one where the guy interviewer put his hand on Nics' shoulder, and Luke looked like he could murder the man. His stare so intense that the interviewer actually steps away, and the woman interviewer takes over. Luke was standing so close to Nic towering over her like a bodyguard. It was by far the best entertainment I have seen in 8 months.

[thecutepoison]

This is very speculative, but I'm suspecting Kipperlily is using the Ethereal Plane to spy on the Bad Kids and if I'm right I might have figured how she got found out by the rogue teacher!

First, let me explain my paranoid thoughts about the spying. Since ep 3, we are aware that Kipperlily is hearing their conversations, even if we don't know for sure the extent of it. She, just like Riz, must have a crazy stealth modifier + reliable talent, however I don't think she's relying only on that.

So, there's a scene in ep 4 when the Bad Kids roll for perception to spot Kipperlily. Kristen casts See Invisibility and Fabian rolls a nat 20. Brennan describes, only to Fabian, that although he doesn't see Kipperlily, he feels the "twinge of some kind of sense". Very creepy. That implies that she's there but cannot be seen. She could be invisible, however I don't think that's the case because an invisible person could still be perceived through hearing or touch. Also, Kristen would have been able to see her because of the spell.

With that in mind, the paranoid goblin that lives inside my brain is convinced that she's using the Ethereal Plane to spy on the Bad Kids. The Border Ethereal is perfect for infiltration and spywork, since you pass through physical objects and watch everything in the material plane without ppl there perceiving you. There are a couple of ways to access the Ethereal Plane, with spells or items, but I have no ideia abt the specific method she might be using.

Her being in the ethereal plane explains why Fabian, with his nat 20, didn't notice any physical indicatives of Kipperlily but still felt a presence, like some sixth sense. Now, Adaine did use her Third Eye so she could see into the Ethereal Plane within 60 feet and still saw nothing. But that doesn't mean that Kipperlily isn't there since there's a very easy way to circumvent Adaine: Non detection. This is a third level spell that hides the target from divination magic - for 8 hours they "can’t be targeted by any divination magic or perceived through magical scrying sensors". The Rat Grinders, long time haters of the Bad Kids, are for sure aware that Adaine is a divination wizard, they would be fools to spy on the party without casting Non Detection first. She's the motherfucking elven oracle!

Okay, now about the rogue teacher. In ep 3, Siobhan theorizes the rogue professor is the ghost teacher. I think she's absolutely right! We know most teachers of Aguefort and even if the ghost one was among those we havent seen, the Bad Kids would probably have heard about them if they were teaching something like ranger class. It's plausible that the reason for the party having no ideia who they are and not even passing by them in the halls is that the ghost is the rogue professor. After all, no one knows who the hell they are, it's the whole point of their teaching method. And for a ghost it would be really easy to go undetected since they can travel through the Ethereal Plane, beside the insane stealth.

Indulge my conspiracy theories for a minute. Rogue professor = Ghost Teacher and Kipperlily can wander in the Ethereal Plane, the plane of ghosts. Even with the advantage of being on the same plane as the teacher, it would still be a nightmare to find them since they are a pro rogue. In fact, Kipperlily didn't achive that: the rogue teacher found her.

But how did she manage to have the professor find her? I'm sure it wasn't an accident, she's too calculating for that. So, I started thinking about what would I do in her place and came up with the stupidest ideia. It's utterly ridiculous. But it could totally work and the strategy seems kinda Kipperlily's style.

Remember the Ghost Steak? The one Fig tried to eat when she invaded the teacher's lounge in season one? It's the ghost teacher's lunch, and Brennan reestablished its existence in ep 3 when Adaine used Ethereal Sight, explaining that the school wards are porous enough to allow ethereal travel and other stuff.

So if I was Kipperlily, my dumbass plan would go as follows: invade the teacher's lounge through the ethereal plane and hide inside the fridge. It wouldn't be a problem for me since I'm intangible and can pass through stuff, plus the other professors wouldn't see me even if they opened the fridge. Inside, I wait as long as needed, until the Rogue/Ghost Teacher gets hungry. They finally open the fridge to grab their snack, only to find me looking at them from inside the fridge like a lunatic. Mission complete: got found by the rogue teacher and aced junior year!

It's so mundane and stupid and that makes me more convinced that's exactly what happened. It's too funny to not be true.

[seongsangssbitch]

The Amazing Spiderman

pt 1

Synopsis: Yunho is Spiderman the city's savior and superhero who is also a little bit of a loser and is painfully in love with his best friend Mingi. What happens when his father's experiment goes terribly wrong transforming Yunho into a monster he despises?

Pairing: Spiderman! Yunho x Bestfriend! Mingi

Word count: 48k(total) 24k(This part)

Warning: Violence, blood, and angst, detailed rough sex smut(not in this chapter) mind control, body control, lots and lots of cursing, daddy issues, mentioned death of a sibling.

Note: I honestly wrote this whole thing in a day(my eyes are burning right now) BUT AAAAAH I LOVE HOW THIS STORY TURNED OUT. Special thanks to my bae @asherthehimbo for supporting me and helping me out and my wifey @grapejellysollie <333. Have fun reading this!! Part two will be posted tomorrow

Part 2

"Do you think Spider-Man... you know, cums webs?" Mingi asked, slurping his noodles as if he'd just posed a question about the weather.

Yunho froze mid-slurp, eyes widening in horror as he choked on the spicy broth. He coughed until his face turned red, finally managing, "Mingi, what the actual—no! What are you even talking about?"

Mingi just shrugged, still munching away without a hint of shame. "I mean if he can shoot webs, like... where else can he shoot them from?" He waggled his eyebrows, looking entirely too amused by his own question.

Yunho could feel his face heating up, but he was also fighting a losing battle with his composure. "Trust me," he said, holding back a laugh, "he definitely does not shoot webs from there."

As much as Yunho would love to play along with Mingi's bizarre curiosity, he had firsthand knowledge of Spider-Man's... physiology. He was Spider-Man, after all. The city's mysterious, slightly awkward superhero, who'd been spending the last few weeks swinging between buildings, testing his limits, and learning to keep his cool. Well... mostly.

It hadn't started out so heroic. Just three weeks ago, Yunho was the scrawny, curious guy who spent his free time poking around his dad's lab. When he stumbled across a strange, black-glass door tucked away in the corner of the lab, he felt his usual mix of curiosity and overconfidence kick in. And, of course, he went inside.

Behind the door, he found row after row of brightly colored spiders in tanks—a veritable rainbow of creepy crawlies. And because Yunho had no sense of self-preservation, he leaned in for a closer look, pressing his face against the glass. One of the spiders, in all its neon glory, suddenly decided to spray a jet of thick, fluorescent liquid straight into his eyes.

The next morning, Yunho woke up feeling... different. It was subtle at first—clearer vision, a little more energy—but by the time he got to school and saw Mingi, the changes were impossible to ignore.

Mingi, his buff, and intimidating best friend, had jogged over to him in the hallway, smiling wide. But when Mingi gave Yunho his usual playful shove, he stumbled backward, nearly tripping.

"What the hell, dude?" Mingi huffed, straightening his shirt as he eyed Yunho suspiciously. "Since when did you get so strong?"

Yunho blinked, just as surprised as Mingi. "I... don't know?"

But before Yunho could even process it, Mingi's hand was on his stomach, pressing against his abdomen. "Whoa, Yunho—you have abs?" His expression shifted from disbelief to something like awe. "Did I miss a whole gym transformation or what?"

Yunho's face turned red as he stammered, "W-What? I... I haven't even, uh, looked..." He mentally kicked himself for having skipped his usual shower that morning; he'd been too preoccupied with his sore muscles and strange new strength.

Mingi grinned, giving Yunho a look that was equal parts amused and suspicious.

 "Well, you're going to have to start explaining soon, because this?" He gestured at Yunho's torso. "This isn't normal."

Yunho's mind raced, scrambling for a plausible explanation. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that one experimental spider spray later, he was waking up with six-pack abs? That definitely wasn't in the manual for "normal high school life."

So, with as much confidence as he could muster, Yunho forced a nervous laugh and tried to brush it off. "Uh... yeah, guess I've just been eating my vegetables?"

Mingi gave him a skeptical once-over before rolling his eyes. "Right. Sure, vegetable abs. Whatever, dude." His grin turned devious as he started walking away. "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook in gym class anymore. With those muscles? You're officially on my radar."

As Mingi strutted off toward the washroom, Yunho exhaled, relief flooding through him. For now, the secret was safe, and Mingi hadn't pieced anything together. Yunho was still getting used to it all himself. Who would have thought that one unfortunate lab accident would turn him into Spider-Man, the superhero he grew up reading about?

Flash forward three weeks, and Yunho was now the city's new sensation—a superhero in a red suit swinging from skyscrapers, stopping robberies, and saving people left and right. The whole city was buzzing about him. Every news channel had a story on the "mysterious Spider-Man from the marvel novels," and social media was obsessed with him. But Yunho? He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was his life now.

The real kicker, though? His best friend was Spider-Man's biggest fan—without even knowing who Spider-Man actually was. Mingi loved Spider-Man with a passion that bordered on... well, creepy. His phone wallpaper? Spider-Man. His contact photo? Spider-Man. His Instagram profile picture? Spider-Man. Every time Yunho logged on, he was greeted with Mingi's latest barrage of posts and stories, usually captioned with things like "Check out these Spider-muscles!" or "My man crush Monday, every Monday, is Spider-Man."

If Yunho had a dollar for every time Mingi reposted some fan edit of Spider-Man's latest heroic stunt, he could retire from superhero work altogether.

The whole situation had Yunho feeling flustered for more reasons than he cared to admit. Because, well, there was the small matter of his four-year crush on Mingi. He'd fallen for him ages ago, and the feelings had only grown stronger over time. But Mingi was oblivious to it—oblivious to how Yunho's face would flush every time he complimented Spider-Man's, or his, muscles. And of course, Mingi had no idea that his best friend was the very guy he was fangirling over.

It was... complicated. On one hand, it was kind of thrilling. Mingi was infatuated with Spider-Man, technically making him infatuated with Yunho's secret identity. But on the other hand, Yunho found himself actually feeling jealous of... well, himself. Or at least his "Spider-Man" self.

Because at the end of the day, Mingi was crushing on an idealized version of Yunho, a persona he'd crafted to protect his identity and keep people at a distance. He wanted Mingi to like him, the real Yunho, not just the mask he put on at night. The irony wasn't lost on him—here he was, a superhero who could lift cars and swing across the city, but he couldn't even admit his feelings to his best friend.

And to top it all off, whenever Mingi talked about Spider-Man, Yunho had to bite back the urge to spill everything. He wanted to tell Mingi, "That's me, that's me in that suit, and every time I save someone, I think of how you'd be cheering me on." But instead, he just kept quiet, pretending not to care, pretending not to notice Mingi's borderline obsession with his alter ego.

It was maddening, but also... kind of sweet. Because, deep down, Yunho knew that the day Mingi found out the truth, he'd finally see Yunho for who he really was. And that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

For now, though, he'd keep swinging through the city, dodging his best friend's relentless fangirling and hoping that maybe, someday, Mingi would fall for the person behind the mask just as hard as Yunho had fallen for him.

Mingi had already polished off his bowl of ramen and was now eyeing Yunho's half-finished noodles like one of Pavlov's dogs, practically salivating with anticipation. Yunho could see it in his eyes—Mingi's fixation on that last bit of broth and noodles, the silent plea that he was too proud to voice.

Yunho sighed, trying to ignore the pang of hunger he still felt. He'd barely eaten all day, and he definitely needed the energy boost if he was going to be out swinging across the city tonight. But he wasn't about to tell Mingi that. And besides, how could he deny Mingi something he wanted when he looked at Yunho with that hopeful expression?

With a small smile, Yunho nudged his bowl toward his best friend. "I'm not really that hungry anymore," he said, trying to sound casual. "You want some?"

Mingi's face lit up instantly, his hand darting forward as he practically snatched the bowl from Yunho's side. "Thanks, man! You're the best," Mingi mumbled, already absorbed in his new prize as he dug in with gusto. Watching him eat, so happy over something as simple as noodles, Yunho bit his lip, trying to hold back the dopey grin threatening to spread across his face.

God, he thought, feeling his chest warm. Mingi is so damn cute.

At that moment, Yunho would have gladly bought a thousand packets of ramen just to keep Mingi happy. It was almost ridiculous how easy it was for Mingi to make his heart race—just a smile, just a glance, just this unguarded moment with no one else around.

As Yunho was savoring the moment, his homemade radio buzzed, cutting through his thoughts. It was a simple, janky-looking device, something he'd thrown together in his dad's lab with a few spare parts and a lot of trial and error. But it worked, and now it was vibrating urgently in his pocket, signaling another police report of a crime in progress.

He sighed inwardly, glancing down at the pager. Of course, he thought. Right when things are getting good. But this was part of the deal he'd signed up for. Even if it meant missing out on moments like this with Mingi, there was a whole city out there counting on Spider-Man.

"Everything okay?" Mingi asked, pausing with his chopsticks mid-bite, his face full of genuine concern.

"Uh, yeah!" Yunho said quickly, shoving the pager back into his pocket. He forced a smile. "Just...my dad's lab, you know. More work to do."

Mingi rolled his eyes. "Again? Man, you're seriously overworked. Tell your dad to give you a break sometime."

"Yeah," Yunho chuckled weakly, guilt gnawing at him. But he was already running through the plan in his head: how to slip away, how to ditch Mingi without raising suspicion, how to don the red suit and be swinging across rooftops in the next few minutes. All while Mingi would be here, thinking Yunho was just another normal guy dealing with the demands of his scientist father.

"Go on," Mingi said, playfully shooing him off. "Go be a nerd."

Yunho gave him one last look, memorizing the way Mingi's face lit up in a smile before standing up. "I'll catch you later, yeah?"

"Don't keep me waiting too long," Mingi replied with a wink, returning to his noodles.

Yunho swallowed hard, hating that he had to leave but knowing he couldn't stay.

As soon as Yunho rounded the corner away from Mingi's line of sight, he pulled off his shirt, revealing the sleek, skin-tight suit he'd been hiding beneath his clothes. The deep red and stark black webbing clung to his body, practically molded to him, making him look every bit the superhero he was. It still felt surreal every time he saw himself in it. With one quick motion, he balled up his shirt and tucked it into his backpack, which he'd hidden behind a dumpster a few blocks down.

Yunho took a deep breath, glancing up at the skyline above him. The city sprawled out before him, darkened buildings lit by the neon signs and the occasional flash of passing cars below. He slipped his mask on, feeling the familiar sense of power wash over him. Out here, he wasn't Jeong Yunho, the lanky kid who barely got by in gym class. Here, he was Spider-Man—the city's silent protector.

He flexed his fingers, feeling the slight hum of energy that came from his fingertips, then shot a web toward the nearest building. The line stuck with a satisfying snap, and Yunho launched himself into the air, soaring up as his surroundings blurred past him. The wind whipped around him, and he twisted in midair, feeling the familiar adrenaline spike as he swung between buildings. Every time he swung was like rediscovering flight; the city was his playground, and each leap and arc made him feel truly alive.

He let go at the peak of his swing, flipping through the air before catching himself on another line of webbing. The rush of it all— the speed, the height, the impossible freedom—made everything else disappear. The world below was chaotic and uncertain, but up here, it was just him, the sky, and the hum of traffic far below.

As he reached the area of the city where the police report had come from, Yunho dropped lower, blending into the shadows of the buildings. He scanned the streets below, his senses heightened, picking up every noise, every flicker of movement. Somewhere nearby, a siren blared, and he saw the flash of police lights bouncing off the walls.

"Alright," he whispered to himself, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the crime scene below—a robbery in progress at a small electronics shop. Two masked men were loading boxes into a van, oblivious to his arrival. Yunho smiled under his mask, feeling the thrill of the hunt course through him.

Without a second thought, he released his web and dropped straight down, landing silently on a ledge just above the robbers. His fingers twitched as he fired a line, snatching one of the men's guns out of his hand with a deft yank. The weapon skittered across the pavement, making the robbers whirl around in shock.

"Hey, fellas," Yunho called out, letting his voice take on that playful, taunting edge. "Didn't your moms ever tell you stealing's wrong?"

The robbers blinked, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. One of them raised his hands, only to have Yunho's web catch his wrist and yank him up like a marionette. With a swift swing, Yunho had him dangling from a nearby lamppost, his partner frozen in shock and immediately punched Yunho which would surely leave an ugly bruise but nothing is ugly when it comes to Yunho.

It all happened in a matter of seconds—webs shooting out, bodies flying, and within moments, both robbers were tied up and struggling helplessly, suspended from streetlights like they'd just been dropped off by the world's most unconventional delivery service.

Yunho grinned, giving one of the ropes a playful tug as he dangled the men a few inches higher. "Sit tight, the cops'll be here soon," he quipped, before taking a running leap and swinging back into the night.

As he soared through the air, the city rushing by beneath him, Yunho let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The adrenaline, the thrill, the power—all of it felt incredible. And though he was alone up here, he couldn't help but wish Mingi could see him like this, soaring effortlessly across the cityscape, untethered, free.

With one last powerful swing, he catapulted himself onto the roof of a tall building, looking out over the city he protected. Somewhere down there, Mingi was likely still eating his ramen, unaware of the secret life his best friend led. But that was okay at least Mingi would be thirsting over him by tomorrow.

Yunho slipped quietly through his apartment window, landing softly in his dimly lit bedroom. He exhaled, pulling off his mask and letting it dangle from his hand as he quickly locked the window behind him. The city was quiet now, the sounds of his patrol still buzzing in his ears, but tonight's mission had left him with more than just the usual ache in his muscles.

He winced, gingerly touching his cheek where one of the robbers had managed to get a lucky punch in. It was throbbing now, a hot pulse of pain that flared up each time he moved his jaw. Muttering under his breath, he flicked on the light, stepping up to his bathroom mirror.

The face staring back at him looked like he'd gone a few rounds in the ring. The bruise was already forming, an angry purple splotch spreading across his cheekbone, deepening as he gently poked at it. "Ouch," he hissed, jerking his fingers away. He hadn't expected a hit like that to hurt this much. His Spidey sense was sharp, but he wasn't invincible.

"Great," he muttered, turning his face to assess the damage from different angles. "Gonna have to tell Mingi I fell on something."

The thought made him grin, though it was a half-hearted one. He imagined Mingi poking fun at him, then probably dragging him to the nearest pharmacy to load up on ice packs and painkillers.

He glanced down at his suit, noticing a few scuffs and dirt smudges from his evening escapades.

The next day, Yunho walked into school trying to act as normal as possible. He'd barely gotten any sleep after last night's patrol, and the bruise on his cheek was a constant, aching reminder of how close he'd come to getting hit harder. It wasn't like he was a stranger to scrapes and bruises—being Spider-Man came with the territory—but there was something about this one that nagged at him. Maybe it was the fact that Mingi would definitely notice.

As soon as he stepped into the classroom, he saw Mingi at his usual spot, sitting near the back of the room, scrolling through his phone. His dark eyes flicked up and caught Yunho's, and Yunho felt a chill run down his spine. He could feel Mingi's gaze on him even before he spoke.

"Yunho, what the hell happened to your face?" Mingi's voice was laced with concern, the teasing edge missing for once.

Yunho froze, cursing inwardly. He'd hoped to get through the day without it being noticed. "It's nothing," Yunho said quickly, reaching up to casually rub at his cheek, hoping the bruise wouldn't look too bad.

Mingi didn't buy it for a second. He stood up so fast that his chair skidded backward. "Nothing? Dude, that's not nothing. You've got a damn bruise on your cheek! Did you get into a fight?"

"I'm fine, Mingi," Yunho said, trying to wave it off as casually as possible, but the guilt was already creeping in. He knew Mingi wouldn't let it go. Not when it came to something like this.

Mingi wasn't having it. He was already striding over to Yunho's side, eyes narrowing as he inspected the bruise more closely. "That looks bad. I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

Yunho opened his mouth to protest, but Mingi was already dragging him by the sleeve, ignoring his feeble attempts to get away. "I swear, if you don't let me take care of you right now, I'm going to tell everyone you got beat up by a girl," Mingi teased, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

"No, no, no, I'm fine, Mingi! Really," Yunho protested, trying to pull back, but Mingi had a death grip on him.

Mingi just shot him an incredulous look. "Yunho, are you kidding? You're walking around with a bruise on your face and you expect me to believe you're fine?"

Yunho sighed, realizing there was no way out of this. He shot a quick glance around the room, hoping no one else was watching, but the whole class was too busy chatting to notice.

"Fine," he muttered. "But only because you won't leave me alone."

Mingi grinned, already pulling him toward the door. "Damn straight. Now, sit down and let the nurse fix you up. You've been acting weird lately, and I'm not about to let you mess yourself up more."

Yunho couldn't help but chuckle at how determined Mingi was. If only he knew just how much Yunho was really hiding. He followed Mingi to the nurse's office, his stomach a little more twisted than usual. The more time he spent with Mingi, the more Yunho wished he could just tell him everything. But if he did... well, that would complicate things even more.

As they entered the nurse's office, Yunho sat down on the cot, his heart pounding in his chest. Mingi was already talking to the nurse, explaining that his best friend had gotten into a fight or something. Yunho didn't really pay attention to the conversation, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as the nurse began to clean up the bruise.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his thoughts were running wild. Mingi was so close, and Yunho wanted to tell him everything. He wanted Mingi to know who he really was, the person behind the mask, the one who could never quite be enough for Mingi. But how could he, when it was dangerous for Mingi to know? The risks were too high.

The nurse finished applying an ice pack to his bruise, and Mingi plopped down beside him, looking at him with a concerned frown. "You sure you're okay? You don't have to hide it from me, man. If something happened, you know you can tell me."

Yunho felt his heart stutter in his chest at the weight of Mingi's words. He wanted to tell him everything, but he couldn't—not yet, not like this.

"I'm fine, really," Yunho said, forcing a smile as he reached up to adjust the ice pack. "Just... had a rough night."

Mingi didn't seem convinced, but he dropped it, at least for now. "Alright, if you say so. Just... don't make a habit of getting yourself beaten up, okay?"

Yunho chuckled softly, the tension in his chest easing slightly as he met Mingi's gaze. "I'll try my best."

But as Mingi sat there beside him, Yunho couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Because Mingi would never know how much of a lie that was.

It was another late night when Yunho found himself swinging through the city, the cool night air rushing past him as he navigated the rooftops. His muscles were still sore from the earlier skirmish with the robbers, but he didn't mind. He was used to the aches and bruises, the constant battle between keeping the city safe and keeping his own body intact.

Tonight, though, he wasn't just patrolling for general crime. He had spotted a distress signal—a call from a girl on the edge of the neighborhood, her message flashing in his head like a beacon. Someone needed help. And Yunho wasn't going to let them down.

Swinging through the air with practiced ease, he landed silently behind a dimly lit alley, his senses immediately alert to the sounds of muffled voices and scuffling feet. He crouched low, peeking around the corner, and saw a young woman, barely a teenager, pinned against the brick wall by two men who looked like they'd just crawled out of a bar fight. They were pushing her around, their hands out of control, their words laced with drunken malice.

"Hey!" Yunho called out, stepping into the alley, his voice low but commanding.

The men turned, their eyes narrowing as they saw the figure standing there, backlit by the pale streetlight. The larger of the two men, a burly guy in a leather jacket, sneered. "What's this? Another hero wannabe?"

Yunho didn't answer. He just crouched into a stance, ready to fight. He didn't have time for words, not when someone was in danger.

The smaller man, apparently the one with a bit more sense, eyed Yunho cautiously. "What do you want? This is none of your business."

Yunho didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, his body a blur of motion as he delivered a precise kick to the smaller man's chest, sending him crashing into the nearby trash cans. The larger one growled in fury, charging at Yunho, fists swinging wildly.

Yunho was fast—so fast that the blow missed by inches, and he immediately countered with a sharp uppercut, knocking the guy off balance. But the larger man was strong, and he wasn't going down that easily. He swung again, this time landing a punch right to Yunho's jaw. The impact sent a shock of pain through his head, and for a split second, he felt his vision blur.

Shaking it off, Yunho used his agility to spin and duck, narrowly avoiding a heavy right hook. He countered with a quick jab to the man's ribs, then followed up with a roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling onto the pavement.

Yunho didn't stop there, though. The larger man was already getting back to his feet, more furious than ever, and Yunho could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. This wasn't going to be easy, not when they were both clearly stronger than your average thug.

But he was Spider-Man, and he wasn't about to let them get the better of him.

He shot a web at the man's ankle, pulling him off balance again, then darted in close, landing a series of quick punches to his midsection before another web shot out to pin the man to the nearby wall. The guy struggled, growling and cursing, but the webs were strong—stronger than any regular rope or chain.

With the larger man subdued for the moment, Yunho turned to the girl, who was still huddled against the wall, her eyes wide with fear. She didn't look hurt, but the terror in her gaze told him everything he needed to know.

"Are you okay?" Yunho asked, his voice softening. He didn't want to scare her further, not after everything she'd just gone through.

The girl nodded quickly, though her voice trembled as she spoke. "Y-yeah... I'm fine. Thank you... thank you so much."

Yunho gave her a quick smile, reassuring her. "Get out of here. Go somewhere safe."

Without waiting for her response, he turned back to the men, who were both struggling against the webs. He didn't need to stick around to wait for the police—he had already done his part. It wasn't his job to deal with them beyond stopping the crime in the moment. Besides, the longer he stayed, the more chance there was for someone to spot him without his mask.

He shot one last web at the two men to secure them in place before he started backing away into the shadows. As he prepared to leave, though, the larger man growled, his voice muffled by the webs.

"You're gonna regret this, Spider-Man," he snarled.

Yunho didn't even flinch. "Not as much as you will."

With that, he swung up into the night, leaving the scene behind him. But as he soared through the city, a tight knot of discomfort settled in his stomach.

Those men had been strong—stronger than most. And Yunho knew that if he wasn't careful if he kept pushing himself too far, there would come a time when even his enhanced strength and reflexes wouldn't be enough.

But that was a problem for another day.

Tonight, the city was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I mean not really, Mingi had invited Yunho over for dinner and it mattered more than anything.

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was a message from Mingi.

Mingi: "Yo, dinner at mine. Don't ghost me this time."

Yunho smiled to himself, the weight on his shoulders lifting just a little. Mingi had no idea what Yunho had been doing all night, and Yunho was more than grateful for that. It was one of the few things he could keep private. As much as he loved being Spider-Man, sometimes he wished he didn't have to juggle the mask with everything else.

Yunho: "On my way. You better not be cooking something weird this time."

The response was almost instant.

Mingi: "I swear, if you don't show up this time, I'll throw you off my balcony. And for the record, I'm making stir-fry, so don't be dramatic."

Yunho grinned and quickly typed back.

Yunho: "I'll be there. Hold your horses."

Within seconds, he was already scaling a nearby building, his mind racing but his body on autopilot. He swung across the skyline, landing softly on the balcony of Mingi's 17th-floor apartment with ease.

"Wassup, man," Yunho said, tapping lightly on the glass of Mingi's balcony door, hoping to catch him off guard.

Mingi's head shot up from where he'd been sitting at the kitchen table, a mix of surprise and disbelief on his face. "Yo, dude, what the hell? How are you 17 floors up my balcony?" Mingi asked, his voice a mixture of shock and amusement.

Yunho just shrugged, flashing a nonchalant grin as he stepped into Mingi's apartment. "I have my ways," he said lightly, his voice casual, though internally, he was a little out of breath. It wasn't like he didn't have a good excuse. He was Spider-Man, after all. But Mingi didn't need to know that.

"Man, seriously, you need to stop doing that. I swear, you're gonna get us both in trouble one of these days," Mingi muttered, though there was an affectionate smile tugging at his lips. He didn't seem fazed by Yunho's bizarre way of showing up at his apartment, though it was clear he was starting to doubt something.

"Hey, when you have the best view in town, why not use it?" Yunho teased, stepping inside and heading for the kitchen.

Mingi rolled his eyes but grabbed a couple of plates, placing them on the counter. "Yeah, sure, that's definitely the reason," he said dryly. "But honestly, you've gotta stop sneaking around like that if my dad finds out he'll think weird."

Yunho shrugged, trying to downplay it. " I'm just here for dinner. That's all I'm gonna get caught doing tonight."

Mingi shot him a skeptical look as he started making stir-fry. "You really need to stop getting yourself involved in stuff. You're acting weirder and weirder lately."

Yunho froze for a moment, his thoughts momentarily straying to his double life. What could he say? That he had been Spider-Man all night, stopping robberies, fighting off thugs, and saving the city? That his bruises were from a fight with a group of criminals who were just too damn strong? No way. Mingi didn't need that kind of stress in his life.

"Yeah, I've just been... busy. You know, life and all," Yunho replied with a slight chuckle, trying to sound casual.

Mingi, ever the observant one, didn't seem entirely convinced. His eyes narrowed slightly as he set the pan down and turned to face Yunho. "Yeah, busy. But busy with what exactly?"

Yunho quickly shifted the conversation, wanting to steer Mingi away from any more questions. "I'm just tired, man. You know how it is. Let's just eat, yeah?"

Mingi eyed him for a moment longer, but then sighed, relenting. "Fine, but if you're gonna keep acting like this, you're gonna make me worry."

Yunho flashed his friend a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was too tired to keep up the act, but for Mingi's sake, he tried. "I'm fine, I promise."

Mingi seemed to buy it—he always did. As the smell of the stir-fry began to fill the apartment, Yunho felt himself relax a little. It wasn't often that he had moments like this. Mingi had no idea what was really going on in Yunho's life, and Yunho wasn't sure how long he could keep pretending. But for now, he was content.

For a few hours, he didn't have to be Spider-Man. He could just be Yunho, hanging out with his best friend.

That was enough for him—for now.

Yunho picked up on the tension, that heavy silence settling between bites of stir-fry, and he couldn't ignore it any longer. He set down his chopsticks and looked at Mingi, brows furrowed in concern.

"Mingi, seriously. What's up? Something feels... off."

Mingi sighed deeply, avoiding Yunho's eyes as he placed his own chopsticks down, and to Yunho's surprise, he saw the unmistakable glimmer of tears gathering in Mingi's eyes. The sight pulled at his heart, and he sat up straighter, leaning in to catch Mingi's gaze.

"Yunho, you've been so distant lately," Mingi said, his voice wavering. "I mean, seriously, man—are you making new friends? Or, like... doing drugs? Do you have some secret girlfriend you're not telling me about?" His voice cracked slightly, his usual humor replaced by a genuine sadness. "Are you... doing something dangerous? I just feel like we're drifting apart so much, and it's like I'm going to lose you."

The words hit Yunho hard. This was so typical of Mingi, the overthinker—the friend who always worried that Yunho would leave him behind someday. Yunho knew it was because of Mingi's past, the friends who had come and gone, people who'd let him down, leaving Mingi wary of everyone except him. And Yunho had always promised that he'd never be one of those people.

"Mingi..." Yunho murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "It's not what you think. I'm not leaving you, and I'm definitely not doing anything that would make me, I don't know... too cool for you or whatever." He chuckled softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Mingi's shoulder.

But the look in Mingi's eyes didn't waver. "Then what is it, Yunho? You're not around as much. You disappear without a word. And when you come back, you're... different. Like... like you're carrying something heavy, and you won't let me help you with it."

Yunho swallowed, words jamming in his throat, as he tried to find something—anything—that could explain his recent distance. He wanted to tell Mingi everything, to open up and share the truth about his life as Spider-Man. Mingi was his person, the one who knew him best, the one he could always lean on. Keeping this huge part of his life a secret felt like tearing apart something special between them.

But how could he explain? Mingi didn't know the first thing about what it meant to be a hero. And Yunho had seen all the Spider-Man movies; he knew the pattern, the tragic twist that seemed to haunt every story. Every single person Peter Parker had ever loved ended up... gone. It was as if love itself was his curse, woven into his identity. Each one lost was a canon event, something that was inevitable, fate's price for having something good, something beautiful.

Yunho had watched those movies with wide eyes, feeling a mixture of thrill and dread. He'd seen how Spider-Man's enemies went after the people Peter loved—Aunt May, Gwen, even Mary Jane. The villains never fought fair; they knew exactly where to strike, exactly who to target to make Spider-Man suffer. And that scared Yunho. Because while being Spider-Man was exhilarating, it also painted a target on everyone close to him.

Looking at Mingi, Yunho felt that tight squeeze in his chest, the same fear he'd always ignored. Mingi was more than a friend; he was the one person Yunho couldn't imagine living without. And the thought of putting Mingi in danger, of letting him become part of that twisted pattern? It was enough to make him pause, to bury the truth even deeper. For both their sakes.

But seeing the hurt in Mingi's eyes made him waver. If he lost Mingi's trust, what would be left?

He took a deep breath and tried to reassure him. "Look, I... I know it seems like I'm acting weird, and yeah, maybe I've been distracted lately. But I promise, it's not what you think. There's no girlfriend, no drugs, no bad crowd. Just... life, I guess." He gave a small, strained smile. "You're still my best friend. You're not losing me, okay?"

Mingi bit his lip, seeming to wrestle with Yunho's words, wanting to believe him but clearly still hesitant. "But why do I feel like I'm the last person who knows what's really going on with you? I thought... I thought I'd be the first to know everything."

Yunho's chest tightened, guilt gnawing at him. "Mingi, you're still the first person I think about—always. I know it doesn't make sense right now, but please, just... trust me."

Mingi exhaled slowly, nodding but still looking pained. "I do trust you. I just don't want to lose you." His voice was barely a whisper, filled with the vulnerability Yunho knew Mingi rarely let anyone see.

"You won't," Yunho replied softly, his own heart aching as he watched Mingi's face. "No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere."

Mingi managed a small, hopeful smile. "You better mean that."

Without thinking, Yunho leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Mingi and pulling him into a tight hug. He could feel Mingi's arms slide around him in return, holding him just as tightly, as if afraid to let go. Yunho's heart pounded hard enough that he was sure Mingi could feel it, but he ignored it, closing his eyes and letting himself melt into the closeness of the moment.

For a few seconds, the world outside faded away. No more villains, no more bruises hidden under long sleeves or secrets he carried alone. It was just Yunho and Mingi, two friends who knew each other better than anyone else, clinging to that connection as if it was their lifeline.

Mingi's head rested against Yunho's shoulder, his breathing warm against Yunho's neck, and Yunho squeezed him tighter, afraid that if he let go, the whole moment would slip away.

"Promise you'll tell me if you're ever in trouble?" Mingi's voice was muffled against his shoulder but thick with emotion. "I just... don't want to be left in the dark."

Yunho hesitated, the words catching in his throat, but he forced himself to nod. "I promise," he whispered, even if the promise felt bittersweet. He knew he couldn't tell Mingi everything—not yet. But for now, just being here, with Mingi in his arms, was enough. It had to be enough.

You might be thinking, if Yunho became a superhero after his dad's weird, experimental spiders squirted on him, he should've gone straight to his father, confessed, and tried to find an antidote. But that wasn't an option—not in Yunho's world. His father wasn't just any scientist; he was what most people would call a mad scientist, someone whose work was fueled by ambition that knew no bounds, and a curiosity that frequently blurred into obsession. 

He conducted experiments that Yunho was certain would be deemed not only "unethical" but outright illegal. And it wasn't just lab rats or insects; he'd crossed lines Yunho couldn't even bear to think about, lines that made Yunho question his father's humanity.

If Yunho's dad ever found out his experiment had turned his own son into something other, something superhuman, he wouldn't hesitate to tear him apart to understand it. Yunho's father would see him as nothing more than a successful experiment, a breakthrough to be dissected and tested. And if he found out Yunho was Spider-Man? That he'd become something his father dreamed of creating? Yunho shivered just imagining the lengths his father might go to uncover the secret.

In his father's world, Yunho would become the property of science—no longer his own person, but a specimen.

There was no one Yunho feared more, no villain more sinister in his mind, than his own father. The man reminded him of every trait of the Green Goblin—the ruthlessness, the ambition, the utter disregard for anyone or anything that stood in the way of his so-called "progress." His father was capable of horrific things, and Yunho knew if his Spider-Man powers ever became known, they would become just another tool for his father's dangerous research.

And as for the spiders—the ones Yunho had seen in that dark, foreboding room where his transformation began? Every single one of them had mysteriously died not long after Yunho's incident. It was as if their sole purpose had been to transform him and then... simply vanish, erasing any traces of the experiment. But even so, Yunho knew that the experiments, the syringes, the toxins his father kept were still there, waiting, ready to be used in ways Yunho couldn't imagine.

If the knowledge of his powers ever fell into the wrong hands—especially his father's—the world would be... completely, utterly FUCKED.

Later that evening, after the tension from earlier had faded, Yunho found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the big TV, right between Mingi's legs. The two of them were locked in an intense game of Valorant , the living room alive with the sound of rapid gunfire and character quips blasting from the speakers. Yunho was practically bouncing as he leaned forward, completely absorbed in the match, and Mingi was right there behind him, one arm casually wrapped around Yunho's waist, holding him steady every time he got too excited and threatened to topple forward.

This was normal for them—a ritual of sorts. Gaming nights had always been their way of unwinding together, an excuse to get close without thinking too much about it. To Mingi, it was nothing new. But for Yunho, these moments always stirred something deeper.

"Dude, you're getting too into it!" Mingi teased, laughing as Yunho leaned forward to focus on his next move.

"What? I have to win!" Yunho shot back, his voice laced with determination. He didn't bother to explain how his heart raced every time he felt Mingi's arm pull him back, a reminder of Mingi's closeness, the comforting weight of his hold grounding him in place.

"Just don't lean too far forward, or you'll knock the controller out of my hand again," Mingi said, pulling Yunho back with a slight tug. Yunho laughed, letting himself be drawn back into Mingi's chest, feeling the warmth at his back and trying to ignore the flutter in his chest.

"Fine, fine," Yunho replied, pretending to be annoyed as he tried to refocus on the screen. Mingi's hand stayed steady around his waist, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles against Yunho's shirt.

"Alright, last round, then it's my turn to beat you," Mingi declared confidently, leaning closer so his chin nearly rested on Yunho's shoulder. Yunho's pulse sped up at the nearness, but he kept his focus on the game, determined not to let Mingi know how much this meant to him.

But then Mingi leaned in even closer, whispering with a playful grin, "C'mon, man, you're the one who said you're a pro. Show me how a pro does it."

Yunho's hands slipped on the controller, his character on screen suddenly stumbling. "O-oh, right! Pro moves coming up!" he said, trying to recover both his in-game aim and his composure, which was nearly impossible with Mingi this close, his breath warm against Yunho's neck.

Mingi chuckled, pulling him back once again as Yunho got overly excited, and Yunho gave up on trying to keep a straight face, a goofy grin breaking through as he muttered, "You know, maybe I'm just letting you win."

Mingi laughed, squeezing his waist. "Sure, Yunho. Whatever you need to tell yourself." They laughed together, their voices blending into the late-night quiet

"Dude, you wanna go to the skatepark right now? My parents aren't coming home till late," Mingi suggested with a grin, completely unaware of the internal panic he was triggering in Yunho.

Yunho's heart skipped a beat, nerves tightening his chest. He wasn't just bad at skateboarding—he was practically a disaster on wheels, with an impressive track record of faceplants and bruises. Just the thought of stepping on a board had his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. But when he looked over at Mingi, eyes sparkling with excitement, Yunho felt himself wavering.

"Uh... yeah, sure, sounds fun," he heard himself say, doing his best to sound casual. The little voice in his head reminding him of his past wipeouts was drowned out by Mingi's excitement. Because if Mingi wanted him to go, how could he possibly say no?

"You sure?" Mingi asked, raising an eyebrow. "Last time, you said skateboards were just a 'death wish on wheels.'"

Yunho rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to give away just how nervous he was. "Oh, that? I was just joking, you know?" he said with a shaky laugh. "Besides, I think I've grown a bit braver since then."

Mingi grinned and clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit! Let's go! It'll be awesome, I promise."

And so, Yunho found himself a few minutes later at the skatepark, heart pounding as he eyed the ramps and rails around them. Mingi grabbed his board and kicked off effortlessly, gliding across the concrete with a natural ease that Yunho found both impressive and slightly intimidating.

"Come on, Yunho! Just give it a try," Mingi encouraged, riding back over to him. He held out his board, eyebrows raised in challenge. Yunho gulped, gripping the board a bit too tightly as he took a deep breath.

"Okay, just... don't laugh if I eat it," Yunho warned, his face flushed.

"Never," Mingi replied, grinning mischievously. "And if you fall, I'll catch you. How's that?"

Yunho felt his face heat up even more at that, but he managed a nod, stepping onto the board with shaky confidence.

Yunho took a deep breath, ready to prepare for a familiar clumsy spill... but as he pushed off, something unexpected happened. His balance was perfect, his footing stable and secure, and he started rolling with ease. The board responded to his every subtle movement like it was an extension of his own body. For a second, Yunho just glided forward, stunned at how easy it felt—like he'd been doing this all his life.

Mingi's face lit up as he watched. "Yo! Look at you go!" he cheered, clapping excitedly.

Encouraged, Yunho decided to push his luck a little more. He picked up speed, turning smoothly around the edge of the bowl, and before he knew it, he was trying out a few tricks he'd only ever seen on TV. He crouched down, popping an ollie over a curb like it was nothing, and even threw in a little kickflip, his Spidey reflexes kicking in and guiding him effortlessly.

Mingi's jaw dropped. "Dude! Where did this come from?"

Yunho grinned, feeling a thrill he hadn't felt before. The confidence of Spider-Man surged within him as he approached the half-pipe. Without thinking, he pushed up and soared off the lip, catching air and landing perfectly back on the board, every movement flawless.

He skated back over to Mingi, barely out of breath, heart pounding more from excitement than exertion.

"Okay, seriously, where did you learn that ?" Mingi asked, both impressed and a little suspicious. "I thought you said skateboards were terrifying?"

Yunho chuckled, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Guess I just had it in me all along?" he said, still slightly breathless.

Mingi rolled his eyes, nudging him. "Man, next time, don't hold back on me. We could've been skateboarding pros together!"

Yunho shakily extended a hand forward "You wanna skate on the same board together? I can drive us around"

Mingi excitedly nodded running forward and steppig on Yunho's skateboard behind him

Yunho steadied himself, feeling a spark of excitement as Mingi hopped on the board behind him, gripping Yunho's waist for balance. Their laughter filled the air as Yunho carefully pushed off, his Spidey senses keeping him stable as he guided the skateboard around the empty park.

With Mingi's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Yunho couldn't help but feel his heartbeat quicken. Mingi was close enough that Yunho could feel his breath on the back of his neck, and despite the casual setting, it felt more intimate than any of their previous adventures. Mingi leaned in, giggling, "Man, I didn't know you'd turn into such a pro at this! My own personal chauffeur!"

Yunho chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

They cruised down the path, their shadows dancing on the pavement under the streetlights. Yunho took them over gentle slopes and around turns, his movements so smooth that Mingi trusted him completely, letting out an occasional cheer or whoop as they picked up speed.

"Yo, Yunho!" Mingi shouted playfully. "Take that ramp over there!"

Yunho looked at the ramp ahead, eyes narrowing as a grin spread across his face. "Hang on tight, then!" He shifted his weight, aiming for the ramp with just enough momentum to get some air. They hit the edge and lifted off, soaring for a moment before touching back down smoothly, Mingi letting out an excited yell as they landed.

Mingi laughed, clapping Yunho's shoulder. "That was awesome! We need to do this more often, man. You're... you're full of surprises."

As they slowed to a stop, Yunho glanced over his shoulder, meeting Mingi's eyes. "Yeah... guess you bring it out of me," he said softly, his smile mirroring Mingi's, though a bit more bashful.

(No Yunho that's your Spiderman powers)

Yunho's smile faltered the moment his radio buzzed to life, a sharp crackle cutting through the air. His gaze shot over to the device, his pulse spiking as the message came through: "Assailant, armed, downtown. Location: Alley near Crescent Park, assailant are reaching for the bank."

His breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs. The situation was urgent. The man in question wasn't just any criminal—he was dangerous, armed with a gun. And worse, he was close. Very close. Yunho's instincts flared, the familiar weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

Mingi, still laughing and out of breath from their skateboard tricks, looked at Yunho's sudden change in demeanor. The joy drained from his face as he followed Yunho's gaze to the radio. "What's wrong?" Mingi asked, his voice turning serious as he noticed the tension in Yunho's posture.

Yunho didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, he grabbed his skateboard, his hands trembling slightly as he tucked it under his arm. "Mingi, we need to go," he said, his voice tight. The urgency was clear, and though he tried to sound calm, his heart was pounding in his chest.

Mingi's brows furrowed. "What's going on, Yunho? What's wrong?" he pressed, his tone full of concern, his usual playfulness replaced by worry.

Yunho looked him in the eyes, trying to swallow down the panic rising in his throat. He couldn't tell Mingi the truth—not yet. He couldn't risk it. "Just... just trust me, okay? We need to go. Now." His words were laced with enough urgency to finally get Mingi to stop questioning.

Before Mingi could respond, Yunho took off toward the edge of the skatepark, his heart already in overdrive. The alley where the assailant had been spotted wasn't far, but it felt like an eternity away as his mind raced. He could already feel the familiar shift in his body—the adrenaline flooding his veins, muscles tightening in preparation.

Mingi hesitated for a second before following after him, confusion still evident on his face. "Yunho, what the hell's going on?" he called, his footsteps quickening to catch up.

Yunho shot him a quick glance over his shoulder, his chest tight as he focused on the task ahead. "I'll explain later. I promise."

Yunho and Mingi jogged back towards Mingi's apartment building, but the moment they reached the front door, Yunho's phone buzzed again. His heart dropped as he read the message that flashed across the screen—an emergency, and this time, it was too close to home. He could already feel the pressure building in his chest, the familiar weight of responsibility settling in.

"Mingi," Yunho said, his voice low and urgent. He grabbed his best friend's shoulder, pulling him to a stop. Mingi turned, looking at him with a frown, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What is it, Yunho? What's going on?" Mingi asked, his voice laced with concern.

Yunho took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I need you to promise me something." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "Please, stay inside. Don't come out. Not tonight."

Mingi's eyes widened. "What? Dude, come on, what's happening? Are you in trouble?" He tried to reach for Yunho's arm, but Yunho quickly stepped back, his body tensing.

"Mingi," Yunho said, voice almost desperate, "I can't explain it now. But it's dangerous. I just... I need you to stay inside. Promise me."

Mingi hesitated, clearly torn. His eyes darted between Yunho and the building's entrance, instinctively wanting to follow him, but seeing the genuine fear in Yunho's eyes made him pause. It was rare for Yunho to look this serious, this shaken.

"Fine," Mingi finally said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'll stay inside, okay? But you better explain everything later. All of it." His voice softened, and Yunho could hear the concern in his words.

Yunho nodded quickly, relief flooding through him. He didn't want to leave Mingi like this, but he had no choice. He needed to protect him. Protect them both.

"Stay safe, Mingi. Please." Yunho's voice cracked slightly as he spoke, his own fear creeping in. He didn't wait for Mingi's reply. Without another word, he turned and sprinted down the street, his body already shifting into the familiar rhythm of Spider-Man.

Mingi stood frozen for a moment, watching his best friend disappear into the night, heart pounding. Something wasn't right, but he trusted Yunho—he had to. Secrets aren't always free, they come with a cost.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and entered the building, locking the door behind him. As much as he wanted to chase after Yunho, he knew deep down that his best friend had his reasons. But the unease lingered. Something was about to happen, and Mingi wasn't sure he was ready for whatever that was.

Yunho's heart raced as he approached the scene, his mind focused on one thing: getting inside without being seen. The bank's front doors were wide open, and he could hear shouts and the sharp crack of gunshots echoing through the street. The robbers were inside, and by the sound of it, things had already escalated.

Taking a deep breath, Yunho climbed up the side of a nearby building, his fingers finding the familiar grooves in the brick. He reached the roof in seconds, his mind already calculating the best angle of entry. He crouched low, preparing himself for whatever awaited below.

There were four robbers inside, all armed, two of them pacing near the front, the other two near the vault. People were shouting, trying to shield themselves, but it was clear the robbers weren't taking any chances. They weren't here for money—they were here to send a message.

With a deep exhale, Yunho swung down from the rooftop, his body twisting midair as he landed lightly on the top of a nearby column. The robbers didn't even see it coming.

He dropped to the floor with cat-like precision, webbing one of the robbers to the wall before he could even blink. The man struggled, his gun falling to the ground with a loud clatter. Yunho wasted no time, kicking the second robber in the stomach, and sending him crashing into a nearby table.

"Stay down," Yunho muttered, glancing around. He was already forming a plan to take the other two down, but his body burned with the effort. The adrenaline was a rush, but his senses were stretched thin. He needed to be faster.

One of the robbers, a large man in a leather jacket, whipped around, firing a shot that Yunho barely dodged. The bullet grazed his side, the sharp pain flaring through his ribs as he stumbled back. He bit his lip, pushing past the pain, refusing to let it slow him down.

"Damn," Yunho muttered under his breath, his side throbbing as blood began to seep through the fabric of his suit. He was going to need to be more careful.

The robber with the gun advanced, aiming it directly at Yunho. He barely had time to react. Yunho leapt forward, attempting to kick the gun out of his hands, but the man was quicker, slamming the barrel of the gun into Yunho's shoulder. Pain exploded through his arm, but Yunho gritted his teeth, twisting his body to bring a fist crashing into the robber's jaw.

The man staggered back, momentarily stunned, but before Yunho could capitalize on it, another robber lunged at him from behind, swinging a metal pipe. It struck Yunho square in the back, and a sharp cry of pain escaped his lips as he crashed into the floor. The wind was knocked out of him, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

"You're not so tough, Spider-Man," the robber sneered, kicking him in the ribs.

Yunho's mind buzzed with pain, but he could hear the faint sound of sirens approaching. He didn't have much time. He had to finish this, now.

With one swift motion, Yunho threw a webbing blast to the ceiling above, swinging himself out of range just as the man swung the pipe again. He caught his breath, pulling his body upright despite the pain shooting through his back and ribs.

The large robber was still coming, charging at him with brute strength. Yunho's head spun with dizziness, his vision blurring at the edges as blood soaked into his suit. But he couldn't stop. Not now.

Yunho launched himself forward, throwing a series of rapid punches to the man's midsection. The robber grunted, stumbling back, and Yunho followed up with a powerful roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling across the floor.

He wasn't able to savor the moment, though. Another shot rang out, and Yunho turned just in time to see the barrel of a gun aimed at his face.

No...

The world seemed to slow as Yunho's instincts kicked in. He dropped to the side, the bullet grazing his cheek, leaving a bloody streak along his jaw. The force of the near-miss sent a violent jolt through his body, and he fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Gasping for air, he forced himself back up, the pain overwhelming. His ribs were on fire, his muscles screaming for relief, but he couldn't stop. He had to finish this.

With shaky hands, he fired a webbing shot, snagging the gun from the last robber's hand. He pulled it toward him, slamming the man to the ground with a forceful tackle, pinning him down with a knee to his chest. The robber struggled, but Yunho's grip was ironclad, even through the pain.

Panting heavily, blood dripping from several cuts and bruises, Yunho stood, barely able to keep himself upright. His suit was torn in several places, and the throbbing in his side was unbearable.

But he didn't stop. Not until every one of the robbers was webbed to the floor, incapacitated, waiting for the police to arrive.

The sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Yunho pulled himself together, staggering toward the exit, but before he could make it out, his vision blurred again, dizziness overtaking him.

With a final glance at the now-secured robbers, Yunho pulled himself up, his bloodied hand gripping the wall for support as he limped toward the window.

Yunho's father would be home tonight, he couldn't afford to go home, not in this state. Quickly he typed a message to his mother

"Staying at Mingi's tonight, love you Mom"

Yunho hit send, his fingers trembling as he leaned against the window frame, taking in a shaky breath. He could barely keep his eyes open; everything around him felt like it was spinning. His side was on fire, each movement sending sharp pangs through his chest, but he couldn't afford to collapse here. His father would never let him live it down if he was found in this condition.

Taking one last look at the robbers, who were now completely immobilized by his webs, Yunho forced himself to stand upright, his legs like jelly beneath him. The sirens were getting closer, but he needed to get out before anyone saw him.

He pushed off the frame and wobbled to the edge of the building, looking down to see how far the drop was. It wasn't far—a perfect distance for a web swing. But the dizziness was making his head spin, and the pain in his body was nearly overwhelming. Still, he couldn't afford to waste time.

With a steadying breath, Yunho shot a web at a nearby building, using the momentum to propel himself into the air. His body swayed, every twist and turn sending waves of nausea through him. He could feel his muscles protesting with every move, but he kept going, pushing himself further and further from the scene.

When he finally made it to Mingi's building, he didn't swing into the window like he usually did. Instead, he carefully climbed up the side of the building, his strength already spent, before collapsing onto the balcony. The pain was almost unbearable now, but he had to make it inside.

Yunho knocked softly on Mingi's window, wincing as the movement caused his side to flare up with agony. The last thing he wanted was for Mingi to see him like this, but there was no way he could hide it. He had to tell Mingi the truth.

He was lightheaded, barely able to keep his balance, but somehow, he managed to stay upright long enough for Mingi to appear.

"Yunho?! What the hell?!" Mingi's eyes widened as he saw his best friend standing there, drenched in blood and barely able to hold himself up. His mind raced—how had Yunho gotten this hurt? What was he doing up here?

Without thinking, Mingi threw open the window, pulling Yunho inside with more urgency than Yunho expected. His best friend's hands were shaking as they helped him stumble toward the couch.

"Mingi, I—" Yunho began, but Mingi immediately cut him off, his eyes frantic.

"Don't say anything. What the hell happened to you? How are you even standing?!" Mingi's voice cracked as he sat Yunho down, clearly panicked. "I'm calling an ambulance. No, wait, you look like you've been shot! Yunho, you—what happened?!"

Yunho leaned back on the couch, gritting his teeth against the pain as Mingi moved to grab his phone. "Mingi, stop. No ambulance. Don't call anyone." Yunho's voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. "Please. I can't have anyone know."

Mingi stopped in his tracks, looking at him like he was crazy. "What? Are you out of your mind? You're bleeding out, Yunho! I'm not just gonna—"

Yunho winced, his hand clutching his side where the gunshot wound was throbbing. "Please," he said again, quieter this time. "I'll be fine... just... don't call anyone, okay?"

Mingi was still frozen for a moment, staring at his best friend like he couldn't understand how this happened. The blood, the injuries, Yunho sitting here with a gunshot wound—and Mingi still didn't have the full picture. What kind of life was Yunho living that led to something like this?

"Dude," Mingi said slowly, his eyes searching Yunho's face. "You're covered in blood and you're not telling me what's going on. I've known you my whole life, but I've never seen you like this. What the hell do you mean, 'don't call anyone'? You're seriously freaking me out right now."

Yunho closed his eyes for a moment, his chest tightening as he considered how much to say. He couldn't exactly tell Mingi the truth—there was no way he could. His secret had to stay just that, a secret. But the truth was, he hated keeping things from Mingi. Mingi was his best friend, his person. But Spider-Man wasn't something he could share. Not yet.

"I just... I can't explain it right now," Yunho said, his voice heavy with regret. "Just trust me, Mingi, please. I'll be okay, I just need to rest."

Mingi looked at him, his lips trembling as he tried to process what was happening. He didn't understand. He couldn't. No one could. Yunho had always been a bit of a mystery, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.

"But... but you're hurt, man. Badly. You're telling me not to call anyone?!" Mingi's voice rose in frustration and fear. "What happened? Was it... was it a fight? Were you attacked? Who did this to you?"

Yunho swallowed, his throat dry. His eyes flickered around the room, not meeting Mingi's. "It... it doesn't matter. It's over. The robbers are taken care of, okay?" He winced as he tried to sit up straight, but his body protested with sharp pain. "It's just... one of those things. I'm fine, I'm really fine."

Mingi didn't seem convinced. He sat next to Yunho, his face a mixture of worry and disbelief. "I don't get it. Why are you covered in blood? Why are you lying to me right now? I don't understand..."

Mingi suddenly stood up already reaching towards the door "I'm calling my mom, seriously. This isn't just some—"

Before Mingi could even finish his sentence, Yunho's hand shot out, his fingers moving faster than Mingi could react. With a flick of his wrist, a web shot across the room, wrapping around Mingi's wrist like a vice grip.

Mingi yelped, stumbling forward as he was yanked back with surprising force. His balance faltered, and before he could stop it, he twirled mid-air like a dancer caught in a gust of wind, his legs twisting around as if he were some sort of gravity-defying acrobat.

"Yunho?! What the—"

Before Mingi could finish the sentence, he crashed down onto Yunho's lap with a soft, surprised grunt. Yunho, already struggling to sit up from his injuries, instinctively caught him, his chest tightening as Mingi's weight pressed down on him.

"See?" Yunho's voice was strained but a bit breathless from the effort. He gritted his teeth, raising his shirt just enough to show Mingi the wounds.

The blood was still there, staining his shirt, but as Mingi looked closer, the marks seemed to be... healing. The gashes were closing up, the skin rapidly knitting together before their eyes, leaving only faint scars as evidence of the damage.

Mingi's breath hitched. "You—" he started, his voice trembling as his gaze flicked from the wounds to Yunho's face, searching for some explanation that made sense.

But before Mingi could finish his thought, Yunho moved. With a sudden urgency, he grabbed Mingi's face and pulled him in, closing the distance between them in a rush. He didn't think. Didn't pause. He just kissed Mingi, hard and fast, pressing his lips to his in a desperate surge of emotions.

Mingi froze for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of it, the force of Yunho's kiss leaving him breathless. The world around them blurred—his confusion, the danger, the overwhelming fear—all disappeared for that brief, stolen moment.

Yunho's heart was pounding in his chest, and his thoughts were jumbled, too fast to process. The kiss was rough, filled with raw emotion, like he was trying to pour everything he was into it—everything he had kept hidden for so long. If Mingi was going to find out he was Spider-Man, if this was the moment where all of Yunho's secrets came crashing down, then maybe, just maybe, it was time to let him know everything.

Yunho's heart was pounding in his chest, a chaotic rhythm that matched the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind. His breath hitched as he kissed Mingi, the pressure of it almost desperate as if he were pouring everything—every secret, every fear, every part of himself he'd kept locked away—into the moment. It was reckless, unguarded, like he couldn't hold back anymore, like the floodgates were open and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to.

Mingi, for a split second, seemed to freeze, his hands stiff against Yunho's chest as the kiss deepened. Then, against the heat of Yunho's lips, he mumbled, almost too quietly to hear, "You're Spider-Man..."

Yunho's breath caught. It was as if Mingi had ripped the truth from his chest without even trying. But instead of pulling away, Yunho's grip tightened, his long fingers curling around Mingi's neck, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. "Shut up," he muttered, his voice low and strained, a rough edge creeping into it. He leaned in even more, pressing Mingi back against him, pulling him deeper into the kiss, almost as if he could swallow the words, erase the question before it fully registered.

His other hand slid into Mingi's hair, tugging gently, fingers threading through the strands as he deepened the kiss further. The heat between them intensified a tangle of lips and breath, a collision of everything Yunho had tried so hard to keep hidden. He didn't care about the consequences anymore, didn't care about the secrets or the pain that might come. For this moment, it was just them—no masks, no lies, no barriers.

Mingi's hands moved, hesitant at first, unsure, but then they found their way to Yunho's chest, fingers brushing against the bloodstained fabric of his shirt. He could feel the rapid pulse beneath Yunho's skin, the fast thrum of a heartbeat that told him just how real this was, how raw the emotions were between them.

Yunho's kiss grew fiercer, more insistent, like he was trying to make Mingi feel all of it—everything he was, everything he had been hiding. But at that moment, he wasn't Spider-Man. He wasn't the broken, damaged hero with secrets and lies. He was just Yunho, the boy who loved Mingi more than anything in the world.

And as Mingi's fingers curled into his shirt, as he melted into the kiss, Yunho's chest ached with the weight of it all. Maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe Mingi would understand, maybe he wouldn't. But Yunho couldn't hold back anymore. Not now.

He pulled back just slightly, his lips brushing against Mingi's in soft, breathless whispers. "I didn't want to tell you like this. But... you're right. I'm Spider-Man." The words felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, but when Mingi didn't pull away, didn't recoil in fear or confusion, Yunho felt a small sense of relief.

Mingi, still catching his breath, looked at him with wide eyes. "You're serious?"

Yunho gave a shaky nod, his hands still gently holding Mingi's face, his thumb brushing over his cheek as he searched for any sign of understanding. "I'm serious, Mingi. I never meant for you to get caught up in all this, but... I couldn't keep hiding it from you anymore. You deserve to know the truth."

For a moment, Mingi didn't say anything. He just stared at Yunho, his eyes searching his face for any sign that this was some sort of joke. But the sincerity in Yunho's gaze told him everything. This was real.

But then, confusion and something else—hurt?—flashed in Mingi's eyes, and he pulled back, breaking their connection. He stepped back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of everything that was happening. "No, you idiot..." Mingi's voice was shaky, a bit higher than usual, as he locked eyes with Yunho. "The kiss... why?" His gaze was intense, demanding answers that Yunho wasn't entirely sure how to give.

Yunho blinked, caught off guard by the question. His heart ached at the uncertainty in Mingi's voice, but he couldn't just brush it off. The kiss—why had he done it? It hadn't been planned. He hadn't thought it through. It had just happened in the heat of the moment, driven by something deeper than logic. Something that had been festering inside him for so long.

"I... I don't know," Yunho admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho's heart pounded in his chest as Mingi's voice grew louder, more frustrated. "You just kissed me and you don't know?!" Mingi's words hit him harder than he expected. The anger and confusion were clear on his face, but there was something else beneath it all—hurt, maybe, or fear. Yunho's throat tightened, unsure how to navigate this. He had expected Mingi to be more focused on the revelation of his secret identity, but instead, Mingi was fixated on the kiss.

Yunho took a step forward, reaching out but hesitating as he saw Mingi step back, the space between them growing wider. "Mingi... I—"

"Seriously, Yunho?" Mingi cut him off, his voice shaking with emotion. "You kissed me. I'm trying to figure out why. What do you expect me to think? Do you think I'm just supposed to... what, be okay with this?"

Yunho swallowed hard. He had never seen Mingi like this, so hurt and angry . It made him feel like the floor was falling beneath him. "Mingi, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just... it's not about that kiss. It's—" Yunho paused, trying to gather his thoughts. His mind was racing, each word feeling like it might send Mingi even further away. He tried again, softer this time, "It's not just about the kiss. It's about everything. Everything I've been hiding."

Mingi's face flickered with confusion. "Then why does the kiss matter so much to you, Yunho?" He shook his head in disbelief, unable to understand what was going on in Yunho's mind. "What do you want from me?"

Yunho took a shaky breath, his own frustration beginning to boil over. This wasn't the way he had imagined it. "I want you to understand. To know that... I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't plan for any of it. But Mingi—" His voice faltered, the weight of his own emotions catching up to him. "But I've been in love with you for so long, I—"

"What?" Mingi blinked, stunned, taking a step back as though the words hit him like a physical blow. "What the hell are you talking about?" His voice wavered, unsure whether to be angry or hurt, but his eyes were wide, searching Yunho's face for any sign that he was joking.

Yunho stood there, his breath coming in quick bursts. His hands shook, but this time, he didn't hide them. He dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to steady himself, but it was useless. His chest felt like it was caving in. "I've loved you. All these years. And I've been hiding it— hiding me —from you. Because I didn't want to ruin what we had. I didn't want to make things... complicated."

"So kissing me doesn't make things complicated??" Mingi sarcastically asked

Yunho's heart hammered in his chest as Mingi's words struck him with a cold, sharp sting. The sarcasm in Mingi's voice felt like a slap, the weight of it making his chest tighten. He blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the tears that threatened to spill over, the raw emotion threatening to drown him.

Mingi's words kept replaying in his mind, making him feel smaller and smaller. So kissing me doesn't make things complicated? It was as if Mingi had opened a floodgate, and now every regret, every fear Yunho had been trying to suppress was crashing over him. He had ruined everything—everything that had been so perfect between them.

"Why are you more fixated on the kiss than me being the city's superhero?" Yunho tried to joke, his voice strained, almost breathless from the weight of everything he hadn't said before. It was his usual coping mechanism—joking when the world was falling apart around him—but it felt hollow now. Too empty. Too forced.

Mingi didn't laugh. Instead, his gaze hardened, and Yunho felt his stomach twist. "Yunho... fuck you being Spider-Man. That's a conversation for later." His voice shook slightly, his frustration turning into something deeper, more confused. "But my best friend of 13 years just fucking told me he likes me... How do I NOT fixate on that?"

The words hit Yunho like a wave, crashing over him with an overwhelming force. His heart slammed in his chest, louder than his thoughts, drowning him in a sea of confusion. Mingi's eyes were wide with disbelief, his face still etched with that mixture of shock and anger, but there was something else there now too—something more vulnerable. It was like a crack in the wall Mingi had built around himself, and Yunho could see it, feel it, even if Mingi wasn't saying it outright.

Yunho's breath hitched. "Mingi, I—" He wanted to explain, to make it make sense, but words failed him again. How could he explain something that felt so simple, yet so complicated all at once? How could he make Mingi see that all he had ever wanted, all he had ever needed, was him? But now, with everything so raw, it felt like the worst possible time to open up.

"I didn't mean to just spring it on you like this," Yunho continued quietly, voice thick with regret. "Im sorry for kissing you without asking"

Mingi stood frozen for a moment, clearly at a loss, his chest rising and falling as he processed the weight of what Yunho had just confessed. There was a long silence, thick with uncertainty. Yunho felt exposed, like he had bared his soul to Mingi, only for Mingi to look at him like a puzzle he didn't know how to solve.

"I liked how your lips felt on mine" Mingi mumbled, not sure of his own self

Yunho's heart nearly stopped at Mingi's words. He felt like the ground had shifted beneath him, and for a moment, everything around him disappeared. The weight of Mingi's confession, soft and uncertain, hit him harder than anything else. I liked how your lips felt on mine —those words were a spark in the dark, a glimpse of something he hadn't dared to hope for. But there was still a hesitation in Mingi's voice, an uncertainty that Yunho could feel like a tangible weight between them.

"Mingi," Yunho breathed, his voice barely a whisper. His chest ached, torn between the joy of hearing that and the fear of what it meant. "Are you—are you saying...?"

Mingi's gaze flickered, his eyes avoiding Yunho's, as if he couldn't quite meet his gaze. "I don't know what to say," he mumbled, frustration and confusion clouding his features. "This is all just... too much. You're my best friend. I've known you for years, Yunho. I can't just... figure this out in a second."

"But the thought of you loving me, me loving you back... spending my whole life with you, not as just my best friend, but as someone more—someone I care about in a way I can't quite explain—feels exhilarating," Mingi continued, his words flowing with an honesty that made Yunho's heart skip a beat.

Yunho's eyes widened as the gravity of Mingi's confession sunk in. His pulse raced, a mixture of disbelief and relief rushing through him. He feels the same? The thought seemed impossible, but Mingi's words, though shaky, were undeniable.

"Mingi," Yunho whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "are you saying... that you—"

Mingi cut him off, running a hand through his hair, his gaze still averted as he processed everything. "I don't know yet. I'm still trying to understand it. But... I can't deny that there's something there. Something I didn't want to admit to myself, i've always felt there was some tension between us, we were too intimate to just be best friends i doubted my own self with you sometimes, it's like i wanted you to be just with me, just mine"

Yunho's heart skipped a beat as Mingi's words sunk in, each syllable feeling like a slow, deliberate strike to his chest. His breath hitched, and he stepped closer, unable to tear his eyes away from Mingi's conflicted expression. This was it—the moment where everything changed, where the unspoken tension between them began to unravel in the rawest way possible.

"Mingi," Yunho murmured again, the words trembling in his throat, "you've always felt that way? You—"

"Yeah," Mingi interrupted, his voice a little firmer now, though still tinged with uncertainty. His hand dropped from his hair, and he met Yunho's gaze for the first time, his eyes conflicted but searching. "I've always felt like there was something between us, but I... I didn't know how to handle it. It was easier to just keep pretending everything was normal. That we were just best friends. But I can't ignore it anymore, Yunho. I can't pretend I don't feel... this ." He gestured between them, the air thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings.

Yunho's pulse raced, each beat pounding in his ears. He reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing the side of Mingi's arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his touch. It was as though his entire body was responding to the energy between them, something long dormant now waking up with an intensity that left him breathless.

"So... you mean you've wanted...?" Yunho's words faltered, the weight of the question too much to fully voice. His heart was beating faster now, faster than he thought possible. It was like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, his entire future stretched out before him.

Mingi nodded, his jaw clenched in a mixture of frustration and something else Yunho couldn't quite place. "Yeah, I've wanted you. I didn't want to admit it, but... every time I saw you with someone else, it felt like something inside of me snapped. Like I wanted you to be mine in a way that wasn't just as a friend. And I hated that. I didn't want to feel like that." His voice softened, vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his usually guarded demeanor. "I didn't want to complicate things. But I can't ignore it anymore, Yunho."

Yunho swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the words, the confession that felt like it had been a long time coming. He stepped closer, feeling the proximity between them charge the air with an intensity he could hardly breathe through.

"I never wanted to complicate things either, Mingi," Yunho said, his voice almost too quiet. His hand, still on Mingi's arm, gently tugged him closer. "But the truth is... I've wanted you too. For a long time. I just didn't know how to say it."

Mingi's lips parted in surprise, his eyes wide as he processed Yunho's words. For a moment, there was a kind of stillness between them, as if the world had stopped spinning, and it was just the two of them standing there in the middle of it all. The weight of everything—years of hidden feelings, uncertainty, longing—hung between them like a fragile thread.

And then, before Yunho could second-guess himself, Mingi closed the gap between them. His lips met Yunho's in a kiss that was everything they had both been holding back—sweet, messy, uncertain, but undeniably real. It wasn't rushed, but it wasn't soft either. It was a kiss filled with all the things they had been afraid to say, and now, in this moment, there was no more room for fear.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Yunho couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension in his chest easing for the first time. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who's been feeling this," he said, his voice shaky but full of relief.

Mingi smiled, his eyes still searching Yunho's face as if to confirm that this wasn't a dream. "Yeah," he whispered, his tone low and hesitant but filled with something Yunho had never heard from him before. "Yeah, me too."

"But im scared Yuyu, very scared, it's like this moment feels like water slipping between my fingers, it's like we wont last long and then ill lose the very person i loved so much, you're my best friend, i have no one other than you"

Yunho's heart clenched at Mingi's words, the vulnerability in his voice pulling him in deeper than anything else had before. He could feel the weight of Mingi's fears pressing down on him, and it was as though Mingi's confession was a mirror of his own. He had always feared this moment too—the fear that whatever they had between them would slip away, just like water between fingers, and leave them broken. But hearing it from Mingi, the person who meant the most to him, made the fear seem so much more real.

Yunho cupped Mingi's face gently, his thumb brushing along his cheek in a soft, steady rhythm. "Mingi," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I'm scared too. I'm terrified, actually. I'm scared that what we have will be too much for us, that we won't be able to make it. But I'm not going to run away from this. Not from you."

Mingi's eyes searched his, full of doubt and confusion, but also longing, as if he wanted to believe him but wasn't sure how.

Yunho took a deep breath, his forehead resting gently against Mingi's. "We've been through so much together, right? We've known each other for so long. And if anyone can handle this, it's us. I know we're scared. But I'm willing to face that fear with you, Mingi. Because I can't lose you either. Not as my best friend, not as anything."

Mingi blinked, a tear slipping down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before turning back to Yunho with a soft, shaky smile. "It's just... I've never had anyone else like you, Yunho. I've never trusted anyone like I trust you. And if we try this... if we make this change... I don't know if I can handle losing that trust. Losing you."

Yunho leaned in, pressing his lips to Mingi's forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. "You won't lose me, Mingi. I'm not going anywhere. I don't know what the future holds, but I do know this—whatever happens, we'll face it together. We'll be together. You're not alone in this, okay? I'm here."

Mingi closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he rested his head against Yunho's chest. "I want to believe that. I do."

Yunho hugged him tighter, his arms wrapping around him as if to hold onto this moment—this fragile, beautiful thing that they had just stepped into. He knew things wouldn't be easy. They never were. But as long as they had each other, there was hope. They had always been best friends, but now they were something more. And no matter how much fear there was, no matter how much uncertainty lay ahead, Yunho was willing to face it, as long as Mingi was by his side.

"I'm not going anywhere," Yunho whispered again, his voice steady now. "I promise."

Mingi rested his head on Yunho's shoulder

"So Spiderman do you cum spiderweb"

Yunho felt a sudden rush of warmth flood his face, his cheeks burning as Mingi's words hit him with an unexpected burst of humor. It was like the tension in the air shifted in that instant, his heart slowing, his breath catching in laughter despite the raw emotions still swirling between them.

"Seriously, Mingi?" Yunho groaned, his face buried in his hands for a moment before he shot Mingi a half-annoyed, half-amused glare. "You had to bring that up right now?"

Mingi was grinning, his eyes sparkling with mischief, but there was something else there too—something soft and vulnerable that Yunho hadn't seen in a while. It was as if the joke was his way of easing into this new, unfamiliar space they were in together, and Yunho couldn't help but smile at that.

"I couldn't resist," Mingi said with a laugh, leaning back just enough to meet Yunho's gaze. "Come on, man, you've been hiding this whole Spider-Man thing from me for weeks, and now we're here i need answers"

Yunho shrugged nonchalantly, trying to mask the nervous energy bubbling inside him.

"I didn't have time to check," he said, the words coming out too casually.

Mingi's expression faltered for a second, his brow furrowing as he processed Yunho's response. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he shook his head with a sigh, clearly amused but also a little frustrated. "You really do have a thing for awkward jokes, don't you?"

Yunho shifted slightly, his fingers tapping on the side of his jeans, avoiding Mingi's gaze as the words tumbled out. "So... uh, I mean, if, you know, you're not too weirded out by all this... and if you don't mind, maybe... I could be your boyfriend?"

Yunho winced internally at his choice of words. It wasn't exactly the grand confession he had imagined in his head. In fact, it was embarrassingly awkward, and for a moment, he wished he could disappear into the floor.

Mingi blinked, clearly taken aback. "Wait, what?" He leaned forward, brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you... seriously asking me that?"

Yunho's face turned an even deeper shade of red, his eyes darting everywhere but Mingi's face. "Yeah... I mean, I've been kind of a mess for, like, years now," he said, his voice low but genuine. "But I think... maybe we could try this? As more than friends, I mean. I really like you, Mingi. Like, a lot. So, yeah, maybe we can... give it a shot?"

Mingi stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Yunho could feel every second stretch out in the air, each passing moment building his embarrassment like a balloon ready to pop.

Finally, Mingi let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really are a loser, you know that?" He reached out, giving Yunho's shoulder a gentle shove, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, it was playful, affectionate.

Yunho groaned, covering his face with his hands again. "I knew it was bad. I'm sorry. Forget I—"

Mingi cut him off by grabbing his hands, pulling them away from his face so Yunho was forced to look at him. "No, idiot," Mingi said, his tone gentle but teasing. "You're not a loser. You're just... bad at this."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, the tension in his chest loosening. "So... that means?"

Mingi leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "It means," he began, his lips curling into a smile, "I think I can handle being your boyfriend. Even if you're a total dork about it."

Yunho's face lit up with a grin, relief flooding through him. He felt like he could finally breathe again. "So... does this mean you'll accept my loser-ass?" he asked, trying to keep it light, but his heart was racing now, hope filling every inch of him.

Mingi shrugged playfully, his grin widening. "I guess. But you've got a lot of making up to do. You owe me, Spidey."

Yunho chuckled, the weight of everything finally starting to lift. "Yeah, yeah. I'll make it up to you. Just... don't ever let me do that again. That was... definitely loser core level awkward."

Mingi laughed, pulling Yunho into a half-hug. "As long as you keep being you, I think I can handle it. Plus, you're cute when you're all flustered."

Yunho smiled, his heart swelling with something he couldn't quite put into words. Maybe he was a bit of a mess. But for the first time, he felt like it might just be okay.

"I can't believe my superhero crush is my boyfriend now," Mingi said with a grin, the words teasing but warm as he settled back into the couch. Yunho laughed, a mix of joy and nerves bubbling up, but before he could respond, the door suddenly slammed open with a deafening force. The sound made both of them jump, and Yunho's stomach dropped.

"Mingi, wait—" Yunho called out instinctively, but Mingi was already moving toward the door, confusion etched on his face.

Mingi swung it open, the soft click of the door handle echoing like a countdown. But what stood in the doorway wasn't a random visitor—it was Yunho's worst nightmare.

Standing in the threshold was none other than Yunho's father. His tall frame filled the doorway, his presence suffocating, carrying the weight of a man whose ambition was matched only by his ruthlessness. Dr. Jeong's eyes, cold and piercing, scanned Yunho with a clinical detachment, like a scientist examining his favorite specimen.

"Yunho," his father's voice rang out, smooth, calm, and chillingly devoid of emotion. It was a voice Yunho had feared all his life. "It seems we have a problem."

Yunho's heart raced, panic flooding through him. His bloodstained clothes, his Spider-Man mask—he could feel his secret unraveling in front of Mingi. His father's gaze dropped immediately to the mask, then to the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt, his eyes narrowing.

"No. No, no, no..." Yunho whispered to himself, horrified. His secret, the thing he'd fought so hard to protect, was slipping away. His mind raced with a singular thought: He can't know. He can't find out.

Mingi, still standing frozen in the doorway, looked between the two men, confused and a little scared. His gaze flickered between Yunho and his father, sensing the tension but not understanding the full picture.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Yunho's voice cracked as he tried to stay calm, to control the rush of fear that threatened to engulf him.

Dr. Jeong didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stepped inside with the deliberate slowness of someone who was in control, completely aware of the power he held in this moment. His eyes never left Yunho, not even once.

"You think you can hide from me forever?" Dr. Jeong's voice was laced with venom. He took another step forward, and Yunho instinctively took a step back, the weight of his father's gaze pushing down on him. "You think I wouldn't find out?"

Yunho's chest tightened. His father had always been a scientist—a brilliant one—but the kind of scientist who was willing to cross lines most would never dream of. The kind who didn't see boundaries, only possibilities. His experiments, the things he'd done in the name of science, were nothing short of horrifying. And now, Yunho realized with sickening clarity, the truth was out.

"You... you don't know what you're talking about," Yunho managed to choke out. But the tremor in his voice betrayed him. He could feel the panic beginning to take over as his mind raced through all the ways this could go wrong.

Dr. Jeong's lip curled into a sneer. "You think I don't know what's going on, Yunho? Do you really believe you can pull the wool over my eyes? You're my experiment. Do you really think I wouldn't notice the changes?"

Yunho took another step back, his hands trembling as he struggled to hide his Spider-Man mask behind his back. But it was too late.

His father's eyes flared with recognition as he stepped closer, grabbing Yunho by the arm with terrifying force. The grip was unrelenting, like iron, and Yunho couldn't help but wince in pain.

"Stop it!" Yunho tried to jerk away, but his father's hold was too strong, too unyielding. "Let go of me!"

" No. " Dr. Jeong's voice was sharp and commanding, and before Yunho could even comprehend what was happening, his father was pulling him toward the door.

Mingi's voice cracked through the haze of panic. "What the hell is going on, Yunho? What's he doing?"

Yunho's breath caught in his throat. "Mingi... go!" he managed to shout, his heart breaking at the thought of putting Mingi in danger. His mind raced, the thought of his father turning Yunho's powers into his next experiment terrifying beyond measure. There was no telling what his father would do if he figured out Yunho's secret. The thought of becoming nothing more than a specimen in his father's lab—a tool for research—was enough to make Yunho's blood run cold.

"Yunho, what the hell is this?" Mingi called out again, his voice stricken with worry as he reached toward Yunho, but Dr. Jeong pulled him further away, not even sparing Mingi a glance.

"We're going to have a little talk ," Dr. Jeong said, his grip tightening on Yunho's arm as he pulled him toward the door, dragging him like an object to his laboratory. The walls seemed to close in on Yunho as he tried to fight back, to escape, but his father was too strong, and there was nowhere to run.

"Mingi—!" Yunho shouted one last time, but his voice faltered as his father forcibly yanked him out the door and into the cold, clinical world that he'd always feared—the world where he was never truly his own.

His father's lab.

The place where Yunho's humanity could be lost forever.

Yunho's legs were shaky as his father dragged him into the lab, his mind racing to keep up with the horror of it all. The sterile smell of chemicals and metal stung his nose, the sharp, unnerving hum of machines filled the air, and his heart pounded in his chest as if it was trying to escape. The walls were lined with shelves full of glass containers, each one holding something alive, something twisted. It was a place of madness, of experiments, where things no one should even imagine were brought to life and torn apart in the name of "discovery."

Yunho could barely keep his feet underneath him as his father pushed him into the center of the room, a cold, clinical space where even the smallest mistake could cost him everything.

He had to get out. But his body wouldn't cooperate.

His father was quiet for a long moment, standing in front of him with that calculating, detached look in his eyes—the look of a man who saw his son not as a person, but as another piece of his work, another puzzle to solve.

Yunho's pulse hammered in his ears as the questions flooded his mind. The answers were so horrifying, so impossible to process. He had to know. He needed to know.

"What did you mean by... you knew all about this and I'm just a part of your experiment?" Yunho asked, his voice trembling, but his eyes blazing with something fierce. It was the only defense he had left—the only thing he could still control. His body, his breath, his fears... all of that was slipping away, but his voice, his resolve, that he would hold onto for as long as he could.

His father stared at him for a long moment. The look in his eyes was something darker now—something that Yunho couldn't quite place. It was almost as if he were studying Yunho, as if Yunho were just another subject to be analyzed.

"I knew you'd walk into that door the moment you saw it," Dr. Jeong said, his voice steady, controlled, like he was explaining the weather. "I knew that spider would squirt on you the moment it saw you. This was all planned, son."

Yunho's world seemed to tilt on its axis. His father had planned it all? The spiders, the toxic serum, the strange experiments... Yunho's mind reeled as he tried to make sense of it, tried to connect the dots.

"You..." Yunho stammered, his chest tightening with disbelief. His voice cracked, fighting against the rising tide of anger and panic threatening to overwhelm him. "You... you planned this?" His words felt alien, like they didn't belong in his mouth. But his father just nodded, an unsettling calmness in his expression, like the devastation in Yunho's voice didn't even faze him.

"I knew you'd be perfect for it," his father continued, his eyes gleaming with a sickening kind of pride. "I knew you were strong enough to survive. You always were. My son, my greatest achievement." The words sent a chill down Yunho's spine. He knew his father wasn't just talking about the experiments now. He was talking about him . His son, the test subject.

"But—why?" Yunho managed to choke out, his throat tightening with frustration. He couldn't understand, couldn't grasp why his father would do this, why he would sacrifice his own child to further his twisted ambitions. "Why would you do this to me? You... you turned me into this thing!"

Dr. Jeong tilted his head, as if considering the question, like it was some minor puzzle to solve. "Because you were the perfect candidate, Yunho. You were always meant to be part of this. All those years, all that time... it was leading to this. You see, I wanted to push the boundaries, to create something new . Something that could transcend the limitations of the human body, of genetics. And you, my dear son, you were my key. You still are."

Yunho's breath caught in his throat as his father's words settled like ice in his chest. He couldn't breathe. His hands were shaking. He was his father's key to some twisted, horrific dream—a dream that had cost Yunho everything. His father didn't see him as a person. To him, Yunho was just an experiment. A success waiting to happen.

Yunho took a step back, his mind reeling, desperately trying to make sense of the madness surrounding him. "I'm not some... some thing for you to experiment on," Yunho spat, his voice gaining strength despite the fear that threatened to consume him. "I'm not your property. I'm me ."

His father smiled. It wasn't a warm smile. It was cold, like a predator's. "You can believe whatever you like, Yunho. But the fact remains: you're exactly what I created. And now that I know what you've become... we're going to finish what I started.A man of science, a protector of this filthy city"

Before Yunho could react, his father gestured toward the lab equipment, and Yunho's heart sank as he realized what his father was implying. Finish what he started —it was a terrifying promise, one that sounded like it would involve dissecting Yunho, tearing apart his powers, studying him until there was nothing left.

"No," Yunho whispered, the word slipping out in horror. His hands were shaking harder now. "I won't let you do this. I won't let you turn me into—"

"Into what?" Dr. Jeong cut him off, his voice no longer calm but sharp with excitement, with obsession. "A success? Or perhaps the next step in human evolution? Imagine the possibilities, Yunho. The power you possess... You could change everything." He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with an almost sickly eagerness. "You're special. I made you special."

Yunho's mind was a storm. His father had created him—had orchestrated everything. The spiders, the serum, his powers... it was all part of his father's twisted plan. Yunho felt the weight of it all pressing down on him. He was nothing but a tool in his father's eyes.

And worse, his father was determined to take him further down this path of destruction.

"You'll never control me," Yunho said through gritted teeth, every word defiant.

But his father didn't respond. He only reached for the nearest syringe filled with an iridescent liquid—something familiar, something terrifying.

Yunho's world seemed to narrow to that one vial as his father's grip tightened around it. The sharp click of the needle sliding into place echoed in the cold lab air.

Yunho's pulse quickened. He had to stop him. He had to get away.

"Father... why are you doing this... to me?" Yunho's voice trembled, but he fought to keep his tone steady, trying to mask the desperation clawing at him. His throat was tight, the words catching on the way out, like they weren't even his own.

His father's expression softened for a brief moment, an eerie smile curling on his lips as he took a step closer. It was that look—the one Yunho had seen a thousand times before when his father spoke of his "greatness," of the legacy he was meant to carry. But now, it was different. There was something darker, something more obsessive in his eyes.

"Because of your humanity, Yunho," his father said, his voice disturbingly calm. "I knew if you got the power, you'd use it for good. This power of yours... it's not just a gift. It's a weapon. A weapon to save the world." He stepped closer still, his tone gaining an almost reverent quality as he spoke, as if Yunho's very existence was a validation of his life's work. "The world needs someone like you. You can make a difference. Those police? They don't do shit. They can't save anyone. But you can. I knew it, Yunho. If they had done their job, if they had been paying attention... we wouldn't have lost your sister."

The mention of his sister made Yunho's blood run cold. His stomach twisted into a knot as memories he had buried deep resurfaced. Her laughter, the way she used to pull at his sleeves and beg him to play with her, the way she had disappeared without a trace, and the aftermath—the endless searches, the dead-end investigations, the unanswered questions.

But hearing his father's words—his justification —made Yunho's heart drop. His father was telling him that his power —the very thing that had been forced upon him—was meant to be a means to fix the world, to right some imagined wrong. It made Yunho sick. His father had groomed him, shaped him to be a hero, not for Yunho's own sake, but because his father was too consumed by his own delusions of grandeur to see the truth.

He had always been the "good son," the one who tried to make his father proud, who followed the rules and the expectations. But now, Yunho felt like his father was taking that very humanity he had once praised and twisting it into something else—something monstrous.

"I'm not some... hero ," Yunho spat, his voice shaking with disgust as the words finally broke free. His chest heaved with emotion, the weight of his father's twisted words suffocating him. "I'm not some experiment you can use to fix your mistakes. I never asked for this power. I never asked to be... this." His hand instinctively pressed against the webbing on his palm, the skin burning as the memories of the transformation flashed in his mind. His father's obsession had turned him into a weapon— nothing more .

The sickening truth finally hit Yunho like a punch to the gut: his father didn't see him as a son. He didn't see him as a person. To his father, Yunho was just another step toward his own so-called "progress," another pawn in a game Yunho had never agreed to play. And that made his stomach churn with a mixture of fear and anger that he hadn't felt before.

"You think the power will save the world?" Yunho asked bitterly, a sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You think I'm some kind of tool to fix things? We lost her because you were too busy playing God with your experiments! And now you're telling me that this —this curse—is the answer?"

His father's gaze darkened, but the glint of pride still lingered in his eyes. "If the police had done their job, you're right—she would still be here. But I could have prevented it all, Yunho. I could have. And now you can too. You're better than they are. You're better than I ever was."

Yunho couldn't breathe. The weight of his father's words was unbearable. His father had always made him believe that his heroism was something to aspire to, that it was his destiny to be the "savior" the world needed. But now, he saw the truth—his father was merely using him as a pawn, a means to an end. The idea that his power was some kind of divine intervention, a way to atone for past mistakes, made him feel like nothing more than an object—a science project that had worked .

Yunho's body slammed against the cold, unforgiving glass of the cage with a sickening thud, his limbs feeling like they were weighed down by invisible chains. He didn't fight back. He should've fought back. He could've fought back—he was Spider-Man, for God's sake. His father was no match for him. He could've thrown him across the room with the flick of his wrist. But in that moment, his body refused to respond. It was as though something inside him had broken, frozen in place by the sheer terror and betrayal that coursed through his veins.

His heartbeat slowed, the rhythmic thump of blood in his ears growing more and more distant, as though he were detached from his own body. Every instinct that told him to run, to fight, to scream—it was all muted, like some unseen force had locked him inside his own skin.

Yunho's breath caught in his throat, the panic bubbling up in the pit of his stomach, but it felt so far away, so unreachable. His body trembled, but it wasn't the kind of trembling that came from fear. No, it was something worse—something deeper. It was the weight of everything he had just learned. The weight of realizing that his father, the man who had raised him, who he had once trusted, saw him not as a son—but as a tool. A project .

He watched helplessly as his father moved toward him with that eerie calm, his hand holding a vial of iridescent liquid, its glow casting sickly reflections across the cold metal lab. The liquid shimmered like some kind of poison, its beauty hiding the horror it contained. It was meant for him. It was meant to change him even more than he already had, to push him further into whatever sick experiment his father had planned for him.

"You were always going to be part of this, Yunho," his father said, his voice thick with something that almost sounded like pride. "The moment you stepped into this lab, I knew you would be the key. You were never meant to be just my son. You were meant to be a vessel— the vessel —for the future."

The words felt like daggers, each one sinking deeper into Yunho's chest. His mind screamed for him to move, to break free, to do something—anything. But his body betrayed him, and his mind felt like it was sinking into a fog. His father wasn't just speaking to him; he was speaking to the experiment . To the thing he had turned Yunho into.

"You're going to be better than anything I've ever made," his father continued, moving closer with the vial in his hand. "This serum... it'll enhance everything. Your strength, your agility—everything will be perfected. You'll be more than just Spider-Man. You'll be unstoppable ."

The vial shimmered as it neared Yunho's face, and he could feel the familiar sting of fear crawling up his spine, but it was as if the emotion was distant now, like it didn't even belong to him. He could still feel the spider-like powers thrumming in his veins, but it felt disconnected, almost numb. It was as though his body was no longer his own.

"Stop," Yunho's voice broke through the fog, weak and strained, but it was there. "Please..."

His father didn't even pause. "You'll thank me for this," he said, his tone flat and mechanical, as though Yunho were nothing more than a subject in his lab, not a person with thoughts, with feelings .

Yunho's heart pounded in his chest, a desperate, panicked rhythm that made his skin burn with cold sweat. His father was moving closer now, the syringe raised, the needle poised to break the skin. He couldn't breathe. The air felt too thick.

Move, move, MOVE!

The thoughts came in a rush, but Yunho's limbs still felt like they were made of stone. You're Spider-Man. You can escape this. You have to fight back.

But then, with a sickening click, the needle pierced his skin, and the cold liquid poured into his veins.

It burned. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before, shooting through his bloodstream in a way that made him want to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. His body seemed to tense up involuntarily, the venomous liquid taking hold, coursing through him like fire freezing over his very soul. His mind reeled from the sensation, and for a moment, he thought he was going to black out.

The world around him blurred. His father's voice faded into the background, a distorted echo of a man he no longer recognized.

Yunho screamed louder than he ever had the sheer intensity of the scream shaking his entire body, he felt a black liquid rise up on his body engulfing him like a human inside the black gel of a monster

Yunho's scream tore through the air, a raw, guttural sound that vibrated his very bones. The world spun as pain exploded through his veins, each pulse of agony almost too much to bear. His entire body felt like it was being torn apart from the inside out, the burning, searing pain now accompanied by something else—something dark, something alive .

He felt it first as a pressure in his chest, an unsettling weight, like a force pulling him into itself. Then, it spread through his limbs, suffocating his senses, crawling under his skin like tendrils, twisting and writhing. It was something primal, something other , something that didn't belong inside him. It felt like a living thing—like a monster was growing inside his very body.

" No... " Yunho gasped, his voice cracking with fear. He tried to claw at his skin, to tear it off, to rip out whatever this was that had latched onto him. But his hands were shaking, his vision blurred with the overwhelming pain and fear.

The black liquid began to seep out from beneath his skin, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed, spreading across his body in a terrifying, viscous tide. It pooled in his hands, dripped down his legs, and crawled up his neck, spreading like a suffocating shadow. It was cold. Too cold. It felt like it was eating him alive, filling him up from the inside out, drowning him in its dark embrace.

Yunho couldn't breathe. The pressure in his chest grew heavier, suffocating him, pushing against his lungs. His heart hammered in his chest, erratic and desperate as if fighting against the impossible force.

What is this? His mind screamed, but the answer was too horrifying to accept.

He could feel it— the symbiote . It's alive. It moved inside him like a predator, a beast, its presence both suffocating and alien. His entire body felt like it was no longer his own. He wasn't just Yunho anymore; he was something else. Something... monstrous.

His mind struggled to hold on to himself, to fight against the alien consciousness that seemed to pulse within the symbiote. It was coiled inside him, and it was speaking to him, though not with words. It was more like a presence, a feeling , a silent, all-encompassing thought, telling him that it had always been waiting for this moment.

But his father's voice cut through the suffocating fog of his mind, distorted, cold, and calculating, like the twisted reflection of someone he once knew.

"You're mine now, Yunho," his father said, his voice low and almost gleeful. "This power you have, it's just the beginning. Together, you and the symbiote will change the world. You'll fix everything."

Yunho's head snapped up, his vision finally clearing, but what he saw wasn't what he expected. His reflection in the glass cage was warped, distorted—no longer just Yunho. The black liquid that clung to his body wasn't just dark; it was alive . It pulsed with an unnatural, sickening energy, shifting and writhing like it was about to break free from his skin. He could feel it moving beneath his flesh, spreading its influence over him. The symbiote had taken hold.

But it wasn't just taking over his body—it was reaching into his mind, coiling around his thoughts, feeding on his fear, his anger, his confusion. And for a terrifying moment, Yunho could feel his identity slipping away, being replaced by the thing that had invaded him.

"No..." Yunho whispered, trying to pull himself together, to fight it off. But the symbiote was too strong. It was as if the darkness inside him had grown arms and legs, claws digging into his consciousness, suffocating every last shred of himself. His emotions were becoming distorted—his rage, his fear, his despair —all being twisted by the symbiote's influence.

And then, it spoke to him— its voice .

You don't need to fight. You don't need to feel weak anymore. With me, you are unstoppable.

Yunho's breath came in ragged gasps as his vision began to cloud with black spots. His hands clenched into fists, the black substance flowing like liquid fire over his skin, but it wasn't painful anymore. It was... powerful .

You'll be the hero you were always meant to be. A hero who can never be stopped.

Terror gripped Yunho's chest, and for a moment, he wanted to scream—to claw at the walls of the cage, to do anything to break free. But then, something inside him flickered—a memory. A promise.

I won't let you control me.

His father stood there, oblivious to the battle raging inside his own son, too lost in his own delusions of grandeur to realize what was happening.

Yunho's chest heaved as the black liquid began to solidify around him, forming a sleek, dark armor that covered his body, its tendrils stretching and shifting with an unsettling life of their own. His breath came in slow, controlled bursts now, despite the whirlwind of thoughts crashing inside his mind. He wasn't fully in control yet, but he wasn't fully lost either.

And in that moment, Yunho knew one thing for sure— he had to escape . He had to stop his father, stop this twisted experiment before it consumed him completely. But more than that—he had to figure out who he was now .

Because he wasn't just Yunho anymore.

And neither was the world.

Everything around Yunho faded into darkness as the black symbiote that had taken over his body seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving him disoriented. His body felt as if it were melting into the floor, the overwhelming heat pulsing through him like a living furnace. He could barely breathe, his chest rising and falling erratically as sweat drenched his skin. His head spun with the remnants of the transformation, the agony of it still fresh, lingering beneath his skin.

Then, everything went still.

Yunho woke with a start, gasping for air, his body coated in a thin sheen of sweat. The heat was unbearable, suffocating, as if his very skin was on fire. He shot up from the bed, his limbs trembling uncontrollably as he looked around, disoriented. The room was dim, the light harsh against his already-sensitive eyes. Everything felt wrong , like he was no longer in his own body, like his mind had splintered into pieces that refused to fit together.

His breathing was ragged, desperate, as he stumbled out of the bed and onto the cold, tiled floor, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands—his once familiar hands—shook violently, the black tendrils of the symbiote still crawling beneath his skin, reminding him of its presence.

Then, he heard a voice.

"Good morning, son."

Yunho's eyes snapped up to find his father standing at the door, his presence as imposing as ever, but Yunho could only see the monster he truly was now. His father held a glass of water, the offer seeming almost pathetic in comparison to the storm inside Yunho's chest. His eyes flicked to his father's hand, the delicate glass shimmering in the morning light, and something inside Yunho snapped.

"Shut up," he growled, his voice coming out raw and hollow. Before his father could react, Yunho slammed his fist into the glass, shattering it on the floor. The sound was deafening, echoing through the house, but Yunho barely noticed. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking, from trembling like leaves in the wind. His body felt like it was waging war against itself.

His father didn't even flinch at the outburst. He merely tilted his head slightly, watching Yunho with a calculating, almost pleased expression, as if he expected this reaction. He didn't speak, didn't move. His cold eyes studied Yunho like a specimen, like something he was in control of.

From the kitchen, his mother flinched, her face paling as she peeked into the room. She hadn't seen her son like this— not like this . The way he looked now was... terrifying. His eyes were completely different, dilated to an unnatural size, the once familiar warm brown now replaced by a dark, inky blackness, swirling with something that didn't belong in him. They were hollow, empty, almost dead .

Her breath hitched in her throat. Her son—her sweet boy —had always been different, but now, there was something about him that wasn't human. He looked like a shadow of himself, like he was hanging on to some fragile thread of sanity, teetering on the edge of losing it completely.

His hair, once soft and dark, now seemed straighter, almost slick with some unnatural sheen, darker than before. It hung in a messy curtain around his face, framing the distorted expression on his features. His lips were twisted into something close to a sneer, but it was more than just anger—it was insanity . His face was gaunt, marked with deep, bruising dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for days, if not weeks.

Yunho's breath hitched as he looked at his own reflection in the mirror across the room. His face—his own face —was barely recognizable, as if the boy he used to be had been replaced with something new, something monstrous.

His mother stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide in fear. "Yunho..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "What happened to you?"

"Ask your asshole of a husband" he spat angrily and walked away ready to get ready for school

The door slammed behind him as he left the house, the weight of his mother's worried eyes still burning in the back of his mind. He couldn't deal with her right now, not when his head felt like it was ready to explode.

School was a blur—another place where the pieces of his former life barely seemed to fit. As he walked through the school gates, his body moving on autopilot, his heart felt cold, detached. Every step felt heavy, as if the symbiote inside him was dragging him forward, pulling the strings, forcing him to keep moving when all he wanted to do was collapse.

And then, in the distance, he saw him.

Mingi. The one person who used to make his heart flutter with every smile, every glance. His boyfriend. The love of his life.

But now, as Yunho looked at Mingi, his heart didn't race. There was no warmth, no excitement. Just a cold void that seemed to swallow him whole. It was as if something in him had changed, something deep and irreversible. The symbiote had stripped him of more than just his humanity; it had taken away the very essence of who he was.

"Yuyu, are you okay? You don't look fine," Mingi's voice cut through the fog in Yunho's mind. His concern was so genuine, it made Yunho's chest ache, but there was no answer in him. He couldn't even force a smile.

Mingi's eyes searched Yunho's face, his brows furrowing as he reached out to touch his arm.

Yunho's mind was elsewhere—somewhere dark and twisted, where voices from the depths of his psyche whispered, beckoning him into madness.

So that's your boyfriend, huh? Pretty cute, if you ask me. It would be fun to ruin him.

The voice in his head was mocking, cruel, just like the symbiote itself. Yunho clenched his fists, his body trembling with the effort to keep control, to keep the rage from spilling over. He couldn't let it happen, not here, not now.

"Shut up," Yunho grumbled through gritted teeth, but the words barely made it past his lips before the symbiote's voice raked through his mind once again, its words dripping with malice.

Cringe. You loser.

Yunho's eyes snapped wide, his hand reaching up to grip his forehead as if he could force the voice out. The last thing he wanted was for Mingi to see him like this, to see him losing himself to something that wasn't even truly him.

Mingi, of course, misinterpreted the sudden outburst. His face fell, his bright expression clouding with hurt as he took a step back. "Yunho... What's wrong?"

Yunho's heart twisted at the sight. He wasn't like this. He hadn't wanted this. Not for Mingi. Not for himself.

"Nono, baby, that wasn't for you." Yunho's voice was softer now, though the harshness in his words still clung to the air. He reached out instinctively, desperate to reassure Mingi, but his hands felt heavy, unsure. The symbiote wasn't letting go.

Mingi didn't look convinced, still watching him with concern. But before Yunho could explain himself, the voice in his head lashed out again, taunting him relentlessly.

Baby? Pathetic. You really think this is love? You think he cares?

"Get out of my head," Yunho hissed, his voice full of quiet fury as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the tormenting whispers. He could feel his grip on reality slipping, the lines between who he was and what the symbiote had turned him into blurring more with every passing moment.

Mingi's eyes searched his, confusion, and worry deepening. "Yunho... I—what's going on? You're scaring me. What's happening?"

Yunho didn't know how to answer. The truth was too dangerous, too dark. He wasn't the person Mingi had fallen in love with, and he didn't know how to protect him from the monster that was growing inside of him.

The symbiote laughed, a dark, mocking sound that echoed through his thoughts like a thunderstorm in his mind.

He's scared. Good. Let him be scared. Everyone will fear you, Yunho. It's only a matter of time.

Yunho took a step back, his face twisting in pain as he tried to force the symbiote into silence. "I—I need to go," he muttered, his voice rough. "I need space. Please, just... give me a minute."

Mingi didn't argue, though the hurt in his eyes was evident. He nodded slowly, stepping back with a hesitant, unsure smile. "I'll be here, okay? Whenever you're ready."

Yunho's breath came in ragged, panicked gasps as he slammed the washroom door shut behind him. His hands were shaking, trembling with the desperate need to do something, anything, to make it stop. The voice inside his head, that constant, nagging presence—the symbiote—had taken root deep within him, infecting his mind as much as it had his body.

He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

With an agonizing scream, Yunho collided his forehead against the mirror, the sharp impact sending a jolt of pain through his skull. The glass cracked instantly under the force of his head, spiderwebbing out in jagged lines, tiny shards of it splintering off and flying across the room. Yunho barely felt the cuts as they scraped across his face, his skin quickly reddening with blood, but the sting of the pain was a small, fleeting distraction from the suffocating agony in his chest.

"Get out of my head!" he growled through gritted teeth, his voice low and strained, as if trying to force the symbiote to listen, to obey . He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white with the pressure, as his heart pounded in his chest, each beat thunderous and erratic.

The symbiote laughed, a mocking, guttural sound that reverberated through his mind.

You're weak, Yunho. Pathetic. You'll never get rid of me. You're mine now. Forever.

Yunho's vision blurred as his heart raced, his body shaking with the intensity of the words in his head. The symbiote was taking over. Little by little, piece by piece. It wasn't just his body anymore—it was his mind, his thoughts, his very soul that was being corrupted.

He pressed his palm against the glass, the cool surface a faint relief against the heat radiating from his skin. His face, his hands—they felt different now. Foreign. The reflection staring back at him was not the boy he had once known. Not the one who used to smile freely at Mingi, whose heart would race for the simple touch of his boyfriend's hand.

Now, there was nothing but this cold emptiness. And the voice that wouldn't let him go.

You belong to me, Yunho. You were always meant for this. You've always been mine.

With a strangled cry, Yunho pulled away from the mirror, his fingers digging into the sink, leaving deep gouges in the porcelain. He couldn't stay in this bathroom forever. He had to leave. He had to go back to Mingi.

But could he face him like this?

Would Mingi even recognize him now, or had he already lost everything?

The symbiote's laughter echoed again, this time joined by a dark, unsettling voice that whispered deep in Yunho's mind.

He'll never understand you. He'll never be able to save you, Yunho. You're beyond saving.

Yunho stumbled back, his chest tight as if the weight of the world was crashing down on him. He turned toward the door, but the image of Mingi's worried face—hurt and confused—flashed before his eyes. His boyfriend, his love ... He couldn't bring himself to hurt him.

But if the symbiote was right, it was only a matter of time before he did.

Yunho's hands shook violently as he reached for the door handle. Get out of my head, get out of my head, he repeated under his breath like a mantra, as though saying it over and over would somehow make it true.

His heart pounded in his chest, but he couldn't stop the cold sweat that began to bead along his forehead. Please, don't hurt Mingi, he begged silently, his voice breaking. Mingi, the one person who still saw him as Yunho— the real Yunho —and not the monster he was becoming. The thought of the symbiote harming him made Yunho's stomach twist in agony. Anyone but him, he thought desperately, his mind swirling with fear and guilt.

The symbiote's voice slithered back into his consciousness, smooth and mocking, as if it were toying with him. Fine, it answered, its tone indifferent, almost amused by Yunho's pleading. For a moment, there was nothing but the oppressive silence that followed, and Yunho released a shaky breath, his hand still holding the door handle. It was as if the air had thickened with the promise of something darker—something unavoidable—but for now, the symbiote honored his plea.

Yunho closed his eyes, feeling the weight in his chest lift, but only slightly. Thank you, he whispered back, though the gratitude felt hollow. Thank you...

He almost couldn't believe the relief. The symbiote was in control, that much was clear, but somehow it had honored his request—not to harm Mingi. He couldn't bring himself to understand the creature's twisted morality, but he was grateful, for a moment, that it was at least keeping his love safe.

What's so special about him anyway? The symbiote's voice echoed inside his mind again, its tone probing, curious, almost condescending. It was the same question Yunho had been avoiding, the question that gnawed at him every time he looked at Mingi.

But Yunho knew better than to let the creature dictate his feelings.

He's Mingi, Yunho replied silently, but the words were firm, steady—a truth he wasn't about to let be twisted by the symbiote. He's my best friend. He's been with me as far back as I can remember—through everything, all of it. He's never judged me, not once. Even when I made the worst decisions, the ones that could've broken me, he was there. Not to praise me, not to tell me I was right, but to make sure I didn't lose myself in it. He's kept me grounded when the world felt like it was falling apart.

Yunho's mind flashed to all the moments with Mingi—the late-night conversations, the way Mingi would always sit close when Yunho felt too alone, the quiet but constant reassurance in his eyes. He's my left side, Yunho thought, pressing the heel of his palm against his chest, as if to feel the heartbeat that Mingi had kept alive in him. He's the closest to my heart.

There was no doubt, no hesitation in Yunho's mind now. Mingi was everything the symbiote could never understand. He isn't afraid of me, Yunho's voice echoed in his head, a whisper of defiance. Not of the monster I've become. Not of the anger I can't control. He's the one person who sees me—really sees me—and he doesn't run. Not when I needed him most, not even now.

The weight in his chest, the gnawing loneliness that had once threatened to consume him, lifted a little with each thought. Mingi had never abandoned him, never let him face his demons alone. Even when Yunho had been at his lowest, when he felt like the world had turned its back on him, Mingi was always there—like a shadow, a steady presence in his life that kept him from completely falling apart.

He's my lover, Yunho thought, and with that, it all clicked into place. And that's special enough. The symbiote could never comprehend the depth of that connection—the trust, the vulnerability, the way Mingi's love had been a lifeline when Yunho had nothing left to hold onto.

The silence that followed felt strange. The symbiote didn't respond immediately, as if it were trying to process what Yunho had said. Its presence in his mind wasn't as suffocating as it had been before, but Yunho knew it wasn't gone. The creature was still there, lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But for now, Yunho was resolute. Mingi is mine, he thought, and this time, the conviction in his words was unshakable.

The symbiote's voice finally returned, though it was quieter this time, almost hesitant. You're an idiot, it murmured. But it was not cruel, not as mocking as it had been before. There was a faint hint of something like admiration, or perhaps begrudging acceptance.

Yunho exhaled slowly, relieved but still on edge. I'm not asking for your approval, he thought back, his words firm but tinged with the faintest trace of amusement. But I'll do whatever it takes to protect him. And if you try to hurt him again, we'll have a problem.

The symbiote was silent again, but Yunho felt its presence shift. It was no longer a looming threat in his mind. In that brief, fragile moment, Yunho had regained some semblance of control.

I am Venatus, the symbiote's voice finally resonated, rich and deep, with a strange sense of finality. It wasn't a name Yunho had expected, but somehow it felt right. Venatus. It echoed in his thoughts like a warning, a promise, and yet, strangely, a bond.

The name sent a ripple through Yunho's consciousness, as though it was the key to something much bigger than either of them. Venatus... Yunho repeated mentally, feeling the weight of the name. It didn't feel alien anymore, but like something that had always been a part of him, lurking beneath the surface. What does that mean?

It means hunger, Venatus responded with a growl that shook the very air around Yunho, but not just for power. It means a desire to feel. To be alive. To embrace the chaos.

The symbiote's voice was both seductive and chilling, but Yunho didn't recoil this time. He could feel a flicker of understanding between them now. It wasn't just about destruction—it was something else. Something more.

And what do you want, Venatus? Yunho asked, his voice quiet but steady, accepting the presence of the symbiote in his mind in a way he never had before.

I want control, it replied, a cold satisfaction creeping into its tone. And I want to burn away the remnants of weakness inside you. To break down the pieces of you that refuse to accept who you really are. And once I've done that... we'll be unstoppable.

Yunho could feel the power thrumming beneath his skin, swirling with something raw and untamed. It was more than just the physical strength. It was a force that could bend the world to his will. And yet, as tempting as the thought was, something deep inside him recoiled.

You're not the one in control, Yunho said quietly, though there was no malice in his tone. I still decide what happens next.

Venatus didn't reply immediately, but Yunho could feel the symbiote testing the edges of his mind, probing for weakness. It was searching, waiting for Yunho to falter.

But Yunho wasn't afraid anymore.

I'm the one who will decide what happens, he thought resolutely, because I won't let you take everything from me. Not my heart. Not Mingi. Not the things that make me human.

Suddenly, Yunho's radio device vibrated in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. The static crackled before the message came through clearly:

"Assailant, gang robbers."

His heart skipped a beat, adrenaline surging through his veins as he stood up straight. The voice on the other end was urgent, distorted, but unmistakable—another call for Spider-Man.

Yunho's grip tightened on the edge of the counter, his gaze flickering toward the window as his mind processed the message. His first instinct was to rush into action. His father, his past, the symbiote—they were all momentarily forgotten as the weight of his responsibility to the city came crashing down on him.

But the symbiote, now more a part of him than ever, spoke to him inside his head, its voice smooth and confident.

Finally, something fun.

Yunho clenched his jaw. The urge to transform, to feel the familiar rush of power, was overwhelming. His fingers twitched, craving the rush of his Spider-Man suit. The symbiote was right—this was the perfect opportunity, the perfect distraction.

He glanced at his reflection again. The man in the mirror was no longer the boy he had been, not even the hero he once was. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was anymore, but the city needed him.

Don't get attached, don't lose yourself in this, he thought, clenching his fists. I've got a job to do.

But Venatus was already on the move, the symbiote stirring beneath his skin, coaxing him. Why hold back? You know they're just pawns in the game. You could end it all in seconds, Yunho. Why waste time?

Yunho felt the burn of the symbiote's hunger rising, the temptation to unleash it all. He could see the criminals in his mind's eye, their faces twisted in greed and malice. It would be so easy to let go, to let Venatus take over and handle it.

But he knew better.

Not yet, Yunho thought firmly. I can do this my way.

He knew he couldn't afford to let his emotions get the best of him, but deep down, the voice of Venatus still whispered in the back of his mind.

Let me help you. Together, we could crush them all.

Yunho gritted his teeth, shaking his head. I can handle this. I'm not doing this for you.

He unlocked the door but decided to escape from the backdoor just in case someone saw him

Yunho shot his web toward the alley behind his house, the familiar hiss of the webbing filling the night air as he swung out into the streets. His senses heightened, his body instinctively adjusting to the rhythm of his swings, as if everything about him had become one with the city.

The voice of the symbiote was still there, lingering, pressing in on his thoughts like a silent whisper, You're doing this for you, Yunho. Don't deny it. They're just criminals. Nothing more than tools for your power.

Yunho clenched his jaw, pushing the thoughts away, forcing himself to focus. The city was calling. He didn't have time for this inner turmoil. I'm not like you, he reminded himself, I'm not going to let you control me.

As he swung through the streets, his mind raced, the radio message replaying over and over in his mind. A gang robbery. The city had been on edge lately with organized crime making a resurgence. His presence was needed. People were counting on him, and even if the symbiote wanted to tear through everything in its path, Yunho knew his duty.

He reached the location, a rundown warehouse at the edge of the city. It was eerily quiet except for the low hum of the building's power system. He dropped down to the ground, crouching low as he surveyed the scene from the shadows. His eyes darted around, looking for any signs of movement. The place was a fortress—guard dogs, cameras, the works—but Yunho was Spider-Man.

He could feel Venatus' influence at the back of his mind, the power of the symbiote urging him to take charge, to show no mercy. This is the moment, Yunho. You don't need to sneak around. You could have it all. Crush them now.

Yunho's fists clenched. I'm not you, he thought, breathing deeply to steady himself. I'm not a monster.

He darted forward, his movements fluid, silent. The first guard didn't even have time to react before Yunho's webbing had pinned him to the wall. One down. He continued his path, knocking out two more, all the while the symbiote's voice growing more insistent, more demanding. This is what you're meant for. You could break them, hurt them—take control. It's all yours, Yunho.

Each step forward, each moment closer to the heart of the warehouse, the more the voice seemed to pull at him. He was so close.

They deserve this, Venatus whispered, The world deserves to see your power.

Yunho froze. For a split second, he considered it. He could feel the power within him, swirling, alive. He could feel how easy it would be to unleash it—unleash everything. He clenched his fists, the symbiote reacting to his hesitation. Come on, Yunho, take the leap. Show them who you really are.

But Yunho snapped his eyes shut, exhaling sharply. Not yet, he whispered to himself. I'm still in control.

He pushed forward, not allowing the temptation to take over. The criminals were just ahead—five of them, armed, laughing and counting their loot. Yunho's heart raced as he prepared for the inevitable confrontation. But before he could make his move, one of the men turned around, spotting him.

"Hey! It's Spider-Man!" one of them yelled, pulling out a gun.

Without thinking, Yunho launched himself forward, webbing the gun from the man's hands and slamming him into the nearby wall. The fight began in an instant—punches, kicks, webs flying through the air as the gang attempted to retaliate.

Now's your chance, the symbiote purred, Finish them off. Show them the true meaning of power.

But Yunho didn't listen. He dodged a punch, flipped over another assailant, and webbed the last man's hands to the floor. He didn't need to kill them. He didn't need to prove anything.

He was Spider-Man, and that meant protecting people—not ruling them.

Yunho's breath caught as the symbiote's tendrils lashed out, wrapping around the robbers with terrifying speed, tearing his costume apart from the back. The black jelly-like mass pulsated from his back, the power surging through him like a drug. The tendrils gripped the criminals, lifting them off the ground effortlessly as they struggled, their eyes wide with fear.

"No, Venatus!" Yunho shouted, his voice shaking with urgency. "I said stop!"

But the symbiote wasn't listening. It was in control now, its grip tightening as it squeezed, the dark power spilling out of him in a dangerous wave. The robbers screamed, terror rising in the air as their bodies twisted against the black tendrils. The symbiote's influence was too strong, its hunger for chaos consuming him.

I'm not killing them, Yunho. I'm just helping you out, Venatus purred, its voice smoother, more insidious than before.

I don't need your help! Yunho snarled, fighting against the surge of power in his body. His heart raced, his muscles tense with the strain of keeping his will intact against the growing urge to let the symbiote take over. This isn't me!

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate, blocking out the symbiote's voice. The world around him felt distant, the sounds of the criminals' struggles muffled as he focused all his strength on pushing Venatus back.

The symbiote resisted, the tendrils twitching with frustration as they continued to lash out, but Yunho's will was strong. He forced the symbiote to retract, the black mass slowly sliding back into his skin, leaving the robbers unconscious but unharmed.

When it was over, Yunho stood still, chest heaving with exertion, his fists clenched at his sides. The tendrils were gone, but the black marks on his skin lingered, reminding him of the battle he had just fought—both against the criminals and against the monster within him.

You're weak, Venatus whispered darkly in his mind, the words heavy and cruel. You should have killed them. You should have taken control. This world is nothing but a playground for the powerful, Yunho. Why do you keep holding back?

[myrfing]

Ok. Anyway, I’ve chewed on the role quest capstone since I played the quest last night and some people are right: it isn’t surprising for this game’s overall writing. The game tends to be very safe/liberal-centrist with its leanings, since you know, corporate product meant to grab as wide of an audience as possible. They wrote this to be as vague and as unrealistic as possible, to give themselves plausible deniability on top of the “it’s just a joke maaan” and maybe that’s why it’s so frustrating: because she does bring up salient points that players have been craving to see more of, but it’s once again played off or cheaply handled or overshadowed by something safer. It’s a problem of the greater time bubble and the need for an unchanging game-setting (what a trouble it would be to have to revamp the derilicts, or the refugee camps outside of ul’dah), and a problem of corporatized writing. Even on the other foot, when they do try to handle it with sincerity, it’s been bizarre, rushed, and never really sticks the landing (ex. the whole post-shb fast-trak to make the tribes friendly to the alliance now so they can friendship blast our spaceship in EW and are technically not totally excluded in the definition of the world-at-peril; they write like they’re hurriedly trying to cover hypocrisies and not because they have fully-fledged ideas). Or they omit writing any problems entirely. Hi Sharlayan, Radz. They aren’t willing to go deeper because it would require them to take an actual stance on anything—but what SE wants to do is sell its game, not really be making a thesis of any sort. Now they’re pulling in years-long unscratched itches for their readers to either conjure overconvenient solutions to, or make cheap potshot jokes out of.

Honestly, this is one of my biggest gripes with the expac’s writing, other than too on-the-nose character developments. It has a very interesting setting, a very interesting time in history of the game world, and it only knows how to handle it with baby gloves. It doesn’t really want to get political, even though it’s an inherently political subject: nationhood, regime changes, definitions of peace, etc. Certain characters occupy positions of power, but are not allowed to look at or speak of it, the WoL included. They don’t know how to handle it on a basic level, and so they don’t know how to create humor out of it. Writers can only write what they think is true, even for jokes, but they don’t even know how to obfuscate it in a way that makes sense. Apyaahi is just another character written for convenience. She has hildibrand-level ridiculousness in some of her reasonings that are supposed to be comedic, but also mostly serve to warp her points into something that can’t be taken seriously. But are also so hamfisted it doesn’t even function as comedic satire that well. Why they chose discontent with state repression and homelessness as their point-and-laugh of the day, I dunno. Maybe they sense an audience shift lately. They do like to flipflop just a tiny bit across the line from time to time so they’ll always come out with something for everyone Lol

[therealslimshakespeare]

i know that we won’t ever be in lus head in the stalag but now that you’ve posted the little part postwar that is from her pov i wanted to ask if you’d ever consider writing in some thoughts of hers regarding sanchez? i loved all the asks people sent about the two of them and their relationship and again i know that can’t really be incorporated in real time since we aren’t in lus head so i just thought i’d ask for it in the aftermath, if you’re planning on writing more from her :)

Ooh interesting question. Because, as you’ve seen my answer- we will still get many of Lu’s thoughts on and even her memories of that timeline so, yeah it’s totally plausible. In honestly I don’t have one with Sanchez planned but maybe I should’ve? Like yeah?? And I like to know what yall want, so i shall keep it tucked in my mind for an organic moment.

I do miss my Mexican baddie so badly. I love her for it and get how and why she peaced out so fast after liberation, but I really miss her all the same.

And some anon on here (kudos to you anon!!!) filled me in on some cultural history, and suggested it as her potential postwar lore, and its got me obsessed and giving the canon stamp: that is, Sanchez became a comic writer after the war. I legit was quite ignorant of the golden age that art form experienced in Mexico after the war but now I have been told, and that suggestion made, I am obsessed. And I think her style would be to use a pseudonym, but all the same, some of her stories and characters are recognizable to her camp mates all the same. And the main characters are badass mini Sanchezs, as they should be. And I just know she got filthy rich off of that and never did have to have no man bother her for all her days after and I love that for her

[cursedmagician]

so. let's talk about that episode shall we?

major ii 17 spoilers under the cut, and lots of theories. read at your own risk.

divider by strangergraphics ✮⋆˙

I have no idea what to even think about that episode. I watched this at about 8 in the morning my time, and now I am in shambles and have been for the last several hours. I'm going to dump all my theories in this one blog post.

my first topic, and the elephant in the room - THIS IS NOT THE LAST ACT. NO WAY.

I've seen people asking if this is the last act and therefore the last ever episode in the series, and to that I say... obviously not. there's still so many plot points to be resolved.

like, for example, why would they add in a scene of the prime shimmers going to the contestant grounds if they weren't going to do something for it later?

yes I know that they were already used as merely a small plot device to allow the episode to progress, but when you think of it in the grand scheme of things there must be something more to it.

also, and - I may be going crazy here - but there might possibly be some sort of parallel of when cobs tells mephone to go "home" with him. we now know that all those previous theories of mephone being made with the shimmer egg are correct, because of fan. since that is the case, I feel like it would make sense for mephone's true home to be with the prime shimmer, right?

I feel like this could be a plot point in the next act. mephone feels more at home with the prime shimmer than he does with cobs (obviously). he would meet them and realise he feels strangely connected to them, and then he figures everything out which leads up to him discovering his true family. and I hope cobs rots and dies FOREVERRR

another point to add onto this is that remember how soap and mic took that photo together in the last episode?

well, soap was going through her recently deleted.

on apple (and I'm assuming meeple as well) devices, it takes 30 days for photos in the recently deleted photo to be fully erased from the device. before that, you can restore and fully erase as many photos as you like.

at the end of this episode when everything created by melife has been erased, baxter is seen walking up to soap's phone here.

in a scene where everything is gone, don't you think this is weirdly symbolic? they didn't have any other reason to show this which leads up to the next theory.

mephone is most likely going to find a way to bring everyone back through some way, and it might be through this system. I'm not saying I know how he's gonna do it, but this will totally be some sort of factor in the next act. hopefully.

second topic - what about bow and bot?

and I know what you all are thinking. I know that bow is definitely not gone, since she obviously isn't supported by melife anymore. (I'm a little curious, bow mentioned that she can't escape the confines of purgatory mansion, but since now that's been deleted, would she be able to roam free? just a thought...)

the same could be said for bot, since they were made by fan and test tube and not by melife. but there's been some speculation going around saying that since bot was made out of materials from test tube's lab, they would be deleted too right?

I actually think that's not necessarily the case.

we have no idea if test tube's materials or her lab was made out of things generated by melife. for all we know, she could have ordered the mechanical parts from overseas. she could have dug up the space she needed for the lab herself.

all we know is that the locations made for the game itself are generated by melife. however, test tube's lab has really nothing to do with the contest because it is its own thing.

so I think this entire theory is genuinely plausible. bot might still be out there somewhere, and I'm not going to say on the invitational island because we don't know if that entire thing was deleted too or just the floor's face. they genuinely might be making their way over to the season 2 grounds right now, wondering what is going on.

which could possibly make way for a bow and bot meeting, AND they might team up too to save the day!! that definitely feels like a direction that adam would be going for, and I personally would totally stand for it.

third topic - can mephone X be avoided or stopped somehow?

here's what I'm thinking.

lightbulb actually managed to dodge mephone X here, and even though yes she did get got in the end, you can at least delay the process or maybe even outrun them altogether.

there must be a reason as to why only the person who is being targeted can see mephone X, but that's a theory for another day.

now, this part is less of a theory and more of an idea - that is supported by numerous twitter posts - but what if you are able to see mephone X with another me device thingy?

think about it, what if taking a picture or just going through the camera app enables others to see them, therefore allowing the contestants to potentially disable mephone X for good?

assuming my theory is correct and they do come back somehow, I doubt that adam forgot about this plothole completely. there must be more significance to this in the future.

we all know how the main writing team writes. they think of everything, down to the small details, and the reference previous things that were thought to be insignificant before!! reminds me of bfdi in a way.

fourth topic - misc stuff/yapping

and well of course I had to dedicate an entire section to just my yapping alone. I know I'm still pretty new to blogging, I don't have many posts yet, but I think it's worth it to just leave my thoughts out here for people to cry over also.

firstly... OJ and paper's last conversation was an argument. lol!! XD!! also it was so funny as to how paper got so ticked off after salt said OJ is her boyfriend. I understand that he might have still felt pretty heated after everything that had been going on, + the argument they had earlier. and I know that OJ is very important to paper. but I still think it was really hilarious. some could say jealous. "he's not your boyfriend he was MINE!!"

ALSO!!! also also also THIS fucking scene...

this is gonna haunt me for the rest of my life man. what the fuck. imagine if slasher movies were like this... like jigsaw or something. if I saw this in a slasher movie I would be terrified for my LIFE (something these contestants don't have).

I really really liked the scene where paintbrush was crying over lightbulb btw. jazzy did an amazing job at that, and they said that they didn't even cry to be able to voice it!! she's a very talented va, I aspire to be like her someday...

another thing I wanted to mention is this tweet made by brian a while ago (screenshot I nabbed from me_phone4 on twitter) yes this is absolutely going to be for inanimate insanity. no questions asked. hope is on the horizon guys.

ok I think that is the end of this post. likes and reblogs are appreciated, and also reblog if you want to add onto my theories later!

for now, signing off!! - CURSED MAGICIAN

[actual-changeling]

when gabriel/jim (jabriel?? gim?????) talks about his "one particular person", aziraphale's smile is such a blink and you will miss it moment but so incredibly precious and we don't pay enough attention to it.

so, welcome to another round of alex's unhinged meta corner where i over-analyse micro expressions while losing some more braincells.

firstly, here's a clip of that scene just so we are all on the same page since i don't know how much time everyone else spends watching that show. don't ask me it's probably at least 6 hours a day at this point

what i want to focus on is aziraphale's reaction to jabriel's words right after "person". did i slow the clip down and then go through it frame by frame to get the following screencaps? yes. yes i did.

there are two parts to this, the spaced-out smile and then his shock/fear. also before we start can i just say how fucking insane whoever made the trailer was for putting the 1941 dinner scene RIGHT THERE??? with THAT expression??????? yeah. no. i need therapy for that alone.

anyway.

while he is talking, aziraphale is looking at jabriel the entire time, but honestly, i don't think he is actually seeing him, he's neck-deep in his memories of crowley. he as that sparkle in his eyes he tends to get around crowley/looking at crowley and that smile appears rather slowly (or as slow as something can be while lasting less than a second).

personally, i'd call that expression "completely and utterly in love" or besotted if you wanna keep it simple. a content little smile meant for no one except himself, the kinda look he probably wears in private while calling crowley to ask him to come hang out. aziraphale loves him and in this short moment, he knows it - and so do we.

when jabriel (preferable over gim, in my opinion) trails off, aziraphale remembers that hey, wait a minute. that's my boss. that's the archangel fucking gabriel. he can't know about me and crowley.

at this point, neither we nor he know what exactly is up with jabriel, so there is a very real danger that everything aziraphale says or shows will be reported back to heaven. the shock sets in, the smile disappear and aziraphale falls from cloud 9 (pun intended) and lands face first back on earth.

while aziraphale does not have crowley's memory of what exactly went down in heaven when they tried to burn him to a crisp, he has always been incredibly anxious around gabriel and the other archangel. he is fidgeting, unable to stand still or even keep his gaze from flicking around. the only moment he calms is, you guessed it, when he is zoned out and thinking of crowley.

the very real fear that settles on his face is not just about himself, it is mostly about crowley. if heaven knows, hell will, too. everyone knows about the back channels, most just try and keep up plausible deniability. the fact that it is michael who seems to be directly in contact with hell for the most part and not gabriel is worthy of its own post at some point.

another thing worth mentioning is that aziraphale is so afraid, in fact, that he physically backs away from jabriel and gets as much distance between them as possible. jabriel looks like a lost toddler, very non-threatening, but the trauma runs so deep that it does not matter how much of a danger he really is right now. he has been a constant threat for over six thousand years, you cannot deconstruct your view of a person, especially your boss, that quickly. not even if they turn up with total amnesia on your doorstep. naked.

this was less unhinged than some of my other posts but i think this is a moment that gets overlooked a lot. at least i haven't seen anyone talking about it yet since we are all understandably focused on the ending of episode 6.

[project-sekai-facts]

Fes gacha updates

Before I say anything else I'm just gonna say the vast majority of the fes updates are incredibly disappointing, especially if you're F2P. Like seriously if you're F2P don't expect to come out of this post entirely happy. I can be mean to clpl because I'm F2P and this is total bullshit. Anyway.

Starting from the fes gacha on this sunday, Colorful Festival will now be known as Bloom Festival! It also has a newly designed logo as seen in the picture above, complete with flowers in all the unit colors, including Virtual Singer, which pretty much confirms that all 26 characters will be getting 2nd fes cards. The good thing about this confirmation is that unless they fuck with the schedule again and put 3 characters on one banner a few times, this means the story will continue past 6th anniversary, something there'd previously been concerns about. There's only 9 fes banners before 6th anniversary (10 if you include 6th anniversary), but you need 13 banners to cover everyone. So that's really nice news!

More information that we were told on stream, as well as story and gacha lineup predictions can be found below the cut!

Unfortunately we have not yet been told what exactly the differences between colofes and bloomfes are in terms of story. Based on the whole journey to bloom/world bloom (internal name for WLEs) thing, I reckon it could be something like the characters' Fragment SEKAI expanding, like what happened with the Tree SEKAI in Let Your Song Resonate. It would also tie into the plot of WLEs, so it would make a lot of sense. Some other speculation I've seen since March is that they might have entirely new Fragment SEKAI, which I think is entirely plausible due to character development and changes in their personal conflicts, and another was that these could be like bandori's kirafes cards, which focus on relationships. While I think this would be interesting, and makes some sense since prsk does take influence from bandori in some ways due to sharing a parent company (craftegg), I feel like they would've mentioned that.

We do know a lot about the differences between bloomfes and colofes on a meta and gameplay level, and unfortunately this is the not f2p-friendly part.

The main gimmick of bloom festival that differentiates them from colofes is that bloomfes cards will have 2 skills! One skill will apply for the untrained card, and one for the trained card. You can switch them at any time, presumably by flipping the illustration when it's on your deck. There's a catch though. The catch is that to train bloomfes cards, you will need 3 Wish Drops (the items used to level up area items past lvl10) on top of all the regular 4* training materials. All players will be given 3 wish drops for free, but aside from that these are incredibly hard to earn for casual players due to being the most expensive item in the event shop at 50000 tokens per wish drop. Basically the game is forcing you to sacrifice other shop rewards, tier, or spend money. Not that colopale needs it when the game earns millions a month.

(translated graphic from @/pjsekai_eng on Twitter)

The skills are also not the most fairly balanced. That's an understatement actually. You have to be a massive whale to get the max skill on these cards, it is literally impossible for casual players.

The untrained card skills vary between virtual singers and human characters. For vsingers, at max level, they give a 90% score boost, but gain +30% boost for every different unit type on your team (though it only applies to two types max, giving you a total of 150% bonus). This is pretty easy to achieve, so that's good for scoring purposes!

For human characters, you get an 80% base score boost at max skill level. By selecting one other card in your team, you get an additional boost of half of that card's skill increase (eg: if the card selected has a score boost of 100%, the bloomfes score boost will get 50% added to its base 80%, for 130% total). I'm not sure if this card is selected manually or automatically. But nonetheless this is a pretty good skill too!

The issue lies with the trained skill. At max level, it gives a base score boost of 110%, which is pretty good, but the additional boost is scaled by your Character Rank, with +1% score boost per 2 ranks (eg: a player with a CR40 Miku will get a bonus 20% score boost) on top of the 110, for 130% boost total). The issue here is that the absolute max boost you can get require CR100, which is ridiculously hard to get without spending money, and is near impossible to do for multiple characters. In other words, this skill is for your oshi, and you have to be willing to spend a lot or grind a lot for said oshi. And also be lucky enough to even pull your oshi from the gacha. It's incredibly geared towards P2P players and is totally unfair for F2P players. There's also the issue of the fact you need 3 wish drops to even unlock this skill, another thing that is against F2P players.

Anyway, let's move on to something a bit more fun! Who is gonna be fes? Here's an overview of how it's looking right now:

There's three possible ways that the fes cards could be paired up: using the same pairs as colofes, using different but still same-unit pairs, or using mixed unit pairs.

I think the second or third option is more likely. If you wanted to do the first option, it would have to be Honami/Shiho, Haruka/Airi or An/Toya, but there's still chance that An could be on Kohane5, Haruka only very recently had a card (though this has not stopped other characters, and Shiho is quite likely to be on the event.

In terms of alternate same-unit pairs, I think Kanade/Ena and Airi/Shizuku are the most likely. Kanade and Ena are both reward cards on the current Mafuyu event, so it could be a sign that they'll be fes, plus Kanade hasn't had a 4* since February. However, both of them have a lot of 4*s right now, with Niigo having the most in the game overall. Alternatively there's Shizuku and Airi. Airi is the second-most due for a lim out of all the characters, with her last one being released at the end of October last year. Shizuku only very recently got a card, but again this has not been much of an issue in the past, with Minori, Tsukasa, and Emu all getting fes cards very soon after an event where they got 4*s (or an event where they got unit-gacha lims for Tsukasa and Emu).

However if you wanted to go for mixed unit pairings, the most likely options are probably Ichika/Kanade, Honami/Kanade, or Airi/Ena. However if the june event isn't 2-B lims, the Hinomori sisters and Saki/Airi are also options. Ichika hasn't had a 4* since white day, neither has Kanade, and Honami hasn't had one since Rise as One. However, we know they will be getting cards soon, and under the assumption that 2-B lims happen, it seems a bit unfair to give 3/4 of Leoneed lims just before WLE. I don't have an argument against Airi/Ena, it's definitely the most likely out of these options.

However, just for consistency I'm willing to bet that they'll stick with same-unit pairs. In that case, I think either Kanade/Ena or Airi/Shizuku is very likely. Maybe I'm leaning a bit more towards Airi, but only because she's more in need of a lim.

But just to throw one last thing out there: the next update will implement an increased, 25% event bonus for default virtual singers, a bonus that pretty much exclusively applies to fes cards since players are far less likely to use the default vsinger 1*s and 2* on their team. So there's a chance, albeit slim, that they could throw us under the bus with Len/KAITO fes. I still think Kanade/Ena or Airi/Shizuku is more likely.

Anyway, that's all for now. Some of these updates are a bit disappointing but I'm interested to see the cards and read their stories! I'll update this post if we learn any more information.

[girldriveroscar]

"not that i even Go Here but u Kinda have to consider in the landolore of it all how he imprinted on Carlos and Danny in those late stage pubescent gay chicken trials.. like they made him feel small and Cute. GIRL AND NEITHER WERE EVEN THAT BIG but the energy of " you're the small one, you're the runt of the pack who we pick on" actually altered the chemistry in lando's brain."-- i think lando just has a bit of a competence kink and likes being the inexperienced one lol i think that's why when oscar won the sprint in 2023 he was the one who kept mentioning it, sure it hurt because his rookie teammate wasn't supposed to win anything before him, but i bet he was obsessed with the fact that oscar is good enough that he had the experience of winning in f1 before him. i also think this is part of the reason why he likes verstappen and is very genuine with his praise for the drivers 😃 i also think he likes that oscar is smarter than him 😶

THIS IS AN INTERESTING PERSPECTIVE! honestly I could totally understand this from the POV that his praise for others competence developed as a weird form of self assurance. like if max is so good,,,, and im against max then no matter the doubts in my head, the concrete fact remains that I'm performing at a high level and I deserve to be here. I think there's also an element of that comfort that's self sabotaging however, as rewarding himself the comfort of "good but not good enough" gives him this third space to relax from the outside pressure. similar to like... staying in a depressed spiral because its familiar and comfortable- even if it is miserable and you know its bad for you. its like accepting second place because answering the question of am I even capable of more? and finding that no, im not. would be soul crushing. now that's kinda dramatic I fully get that, and im not saying I don't think landos determined/confident I just personally see a pattern in his self criticism when he does start hammering on about other peoples skill or his lack thereof. when he starts getting all self hating/pitying its.... pretty obvious he's there for a minute before recouping. (ie. his post race side we saw on max's stream, his lack of selfies (whole other tangent on how his selfies are contingent on his race wins) and me too yk and me too. im not trying to like shame him LMAO I don't think he's weak, I think that's just like the objective truth that we saw last season and the reality of his ability to cope.

I think where that comfort gets flipped on its head is in comparison to Oscar. or if not specifically with Oscar, then with his teammate (or at the suggestion of a peer outperforming him under the same conditions). Does that Make sense? specifically it makes me think of lewis commenting, oh your car is fast, and him snapping back well you had a fast car once too. its the insinuation that when held to the same standard as another person, if his performance regardless of circumstance is not the extra 1% that keeps him ahead, then his self assurance crumbles and he suddenly needs to deflect/defend/get moody.

which leads into why I think it reaaaally ticks him off when Oscar performs better than him. he's not desperate with max and yet he planned to do it since Brazil with Oscar. say all you want about not caring abt sprint races but holding onto one swap to come back and make a point that you're emotionally and skillfully on par with your younger teammate... sure says something...

there enough plausible deniability for max to perform better regardless of personal skill. he's on a diff team, his environment is diff there's no certainty that its on performance alone that max wins, the sliver of separation there is what keeps him capable of praising max, esp when media rains down on him bc internally he's self justified to say yes max is good (but we aren't running in the same race). a compliment to max does not carry the weight of degradation to himself. but with Oscar.... with Oscar... the conditions are the same. and every gap stings extra because Oscar is younger and less experienced. annnnd as I said I think landos a bit toxic and he likes to press on his bruises for fun hence why he brings it up repeatedly- reopening the wound in a way that brings him immense guilty pleasure.

me pathologizing lando Norris's made up kinks right... right. tldr I think his prefrontal cortex brain hates Oscar doing well but his lizard brain enjoys it: performance wise Oscar puts him in his place (which people struggled to do all his life for rsn outside of his stature) its like Oscar saying. yes im better and not because im bigger its because im more talented than you. n that strokes the degrading part of him that wants to be belittled for something nobody else can take away from him. like for a guy who was Raised on the precedent of "small but mighty" yea anyone could call him small, but not everyone can make him actually feel small. when Oscar places above him, he feels small, and the submissive worm in his brain that enjoys squirming in self pity and pain lights up and rolls around.

[cyncerity]

Back to ask you more about your au's!! Yay!

So in your superhero au, it was explained that Quackity or "Oberon" was an avian with the same storing instincts as Sapnap, but Sapnap didnt know how he dealt with those instincts. Quackity always just said he had a "friend" or "work associate" help him with that. Now it may simply be my own bias, but would i be wrong to assume that this friend is none other than Slimecicle?

Sorry, i see even a slight possible mention of that gunky guy and i jump around the room like im a rapidly deflating balloon.

Uh but also if it isnt Slimecicle please tell me about them anyways!! I wanna know who Quackitys been eating, cause if it isnt Karl or Sapnap OR Slimecicle then its gotta be some other character that hes very emotionally close with, and as far as dsmp lore goes, there arent a lot of those people around /silly

- the-sussy-imposter2

Yes it’s Slime!! He’s the second in command of the Las Nevadas Gang and Quackity’s most trusted friend.

Charlie Slime is the secretary to the Mayor of the Smp Schlatt, so he’s able to get a ton of information from people in high up places. Schlatt also owes Quackity (Q babysat his son so often that they’re basically coparents atp), so he’s fully aware of Charlie’s info theft and covers for him. He just doesn’t help (plausible deniability and all that if Charlie ever gets caught).

Charlie is also a supervillain in his own right named “Puck.” In the shakespeare story “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” Oberon is the king of the fairies, and has a right hand jester fae named Puck who’s a trickster, but is incredibly loyal to his king, so that’s where Charlie’s villain name came from.

Charlie’s power set is about what you’d expect: he’s a gooey gunky guy. His body is made of slime that can be morphed and stretched without pain or damage. He can look totally human, which is how he looks as Charlie, but as Puck he’s just a green translucent dude. He can also separate his slime and shift his consciousness between different pieces, or if he’s ever near a large body of water, can grow exponentially. This makes him a great spy tool in some cases (by putting his slime all over a building and having him jump between them) and an absolute tank in others. This is also how Q noms him: Charlie just shrinks and leaves behind the backup slime. If anything ever happens to the backup slime while he’s being stored (if he is away too long it will dry out and be unusable), Quackity can throw him in a bathtub and he’ll grow back to human size.

Also, since he’s indestructible, Q can swallow him down to his actual stomach, though he generally doesn’t since he doesn’t get anything instinctual from it. He just does it sometimes when he hasn’t eaten anything and Charlie insists that he have something in him. In those cases, though, Charlie puts his consciousness in the slime not in Q’s stomach so he can keep doing his job as a human, though he bounces back and forth to scare his boss.

also thank you for the ask!! i will take any opportunity to ramble about slime and q i love them a lot 🫶

[pumpkinsy0]

Since Christmas eve is in t-minus 2 hours and 19 minutes, hcs for curly celebrating Christmas at the Curtis house?? Why is here there? Idk but he is!!

i made it to new jersey for christmas i am cold, tired, and ready to go

ik im late bc it IS christmas eve now but shhhhh

•ok look curly was rlly only over at their house for the heat, his house is already cold but around christmas its gets even chillier and he hates it, god damn it the curtis house better spare SOME heat

•may b the only time hes asking to sleep in the same bed as soda AND b in the middle of them so they can share body heat or somethin bc this cold is ridiculous man, scoot over curly was born in a tropical place he hates the cold so bad

•”hey have u tried THIS in ur hot chocolate” and its just some bs even he hasnt tried, he just wants to fuck up someones drink and see how crowded that cup can get he likes watching them force themselves drink it to not waste anything but its the curtis gang its also plausible they would drink it bc its actually good but it taste like shit to everyone else

•he pretended to b santa and kept patting his lap for pony to sit on it and tell “santa what he wanted for christmas”. backfired on him though bc two bit sat on his lap IMMEDIATELY after and hes wayyyy too heavy for curly, curlys legs felt like pure tv static afterwards

•hes so damn nosey, he likes snooping under the tree and trying to find out what everyone got, his hand has to get smacked away

•if its cold enough, hes totally licked a pole and had a bet w two and steve to see who could stay in the longest, he won but it almost costed him his tongue and near second degree burns to his face w boiling water from trying to get it off

•being around the curtis family being all familial makes curly feel bad about his own family so when theyre doing their own thing, curly shuffles his way outta there till hes pulled back in (by darry or pony mainly)

•since curlys a surprise guest, the gang try to get him a last minute present (rlly pony was gonna give it to him later but they all decided to just put their name on the gift and say it was from all of em, curly guessed it was from pony but admires the thought process they got goin

•the curtis gang still do elf on the shelf and curlys part of the duo who puts the poor elf in sexual positions, ur neverrrrr gonna guess who the other one is (its two bit)

•curly puts of parody of christmas carols, at first ur thinking “oh wow hes gonna sing such a classic song thats nice” and he fixes his lips to say the worst lyrics u will hear its mortifying, god forbid its modern time and u give him the speakers hes making everyone in the neighborhood listen

•it doesnt snow much in tulsa if ever but look curlys never seen snow for YEARS of his life, if its snowing outside he doesnt care how cold it is, he wants to go outside to mess around in it a lil bit, hes gotten a lil sick from it the day after cause he wasnt wearing his jacket which is rare but aye he had a lil bit of fun!! thats gonna wear off eventually tho, snow WILL lose its novelty

•most of his time is spent watching tv christmas specials, hes used to not rlly getting anything on christmas and theres nothing to do outside and the house is comfortable enough, ik his ass imprinted on that couch

•on top of that he controls the radio, the gang gotta give curly his flowers, he knows the good stations and songs, even if he didnt hes hogging the hell out of it

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 407: Wait Why Are You Running Away

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan figured out how to control his quirk upgrade and was totally chill and normal about it. Definitely not terrifying at all. He actually spent the entire chapter smiling and laughing like the wholesome little boy he is. I don’t know why Kid For One is so freaked out about it. He even politely introduced himself using his childhood nickname. Clearly he just wants to be friends with you, KFO!

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “sorry to keep you waiting, here’s the AFO and Yoichi flashback you ordered at long last” and proceeds to serve a nightmarish stew of HUMAN MISERY and RATS and STABBING and CARNAGE and SO MUCH MURDER and THE SINGLE MOST FUCKED-UP CASE OF CODEPENDENCY ANYONE HAS EVER WRITTEN. I was not even remotely prepared for any of this, and if anyone else claims that they were, I will call you a liar to your face. If this chapter had a mouth it would scream. Or just sob, ceaselessly and uncontrollably. I’m really glad Horikoshi is on break next week because that man needs to take a fucking nap. My god.

okay WOW

anyone else read the first two words and just immediately say to themselves, “oh okay, so it’s gonna be one of those chapters”? I mean, I guess we were due for a darker chapter after last week’s Kacchan Comedy Tour. but idk, I just wasn’t expecting “homeless sick prostitute with a drinking problem” levels of dark

AND SHE’S PREGNANT?!

what exactly is this manga rated again? doesn’t this backstory seem just a little bit raw for the impressionable kiddos??

has anyone actually checked in on Horikoshi recently? you know, just to make sure he is okay??

what a fun and wholesome manga this is

the lil baby arm covered in blood with the AFO hole on the palm. lying next to the dead mom hand. what an image to sear into our minds. I guess it’s been a while since he killed any dogs. gotta keep us on our toes somehow

also wasn’t expecting AFO and Yoichi to be twins! that puts an interesting spin on their relationship, because it’s usually a closer bond than even regular siblings. especially with all of that delightful shared trauma from a young age!!

yes, exactly

ohhhh this chapter is gonna hurt me, isn’t it. okay. ooooooookay. let’s do this

OH I’M SORRY, THERE’S MORE?!

Horikoshi my dude. you do realize that their mom dying in childbirth and the two of them just barely surviving and growing up as street orphans would have already been MORE than tragic enough, backstory-wise. you did not have to turn this into a freaking horror show with RATS TRYING TO EAT THEIR NEWBORN SELVES jesus christ

and THAT’S where you chose to put a one year timeskip?!

what the fuck am I reading here, you guys. no please tell me, I am actually desperate to understand

so the narrator is saying that some of the quirks manifested later in life, in “pubescent and pre-pubescent stages”, which is interesting because it’s the first time I can recall hearing about someone actually manifesting a quirk that late. maybe Deku’s old OFA cover story was more plausible than I realized

anyway so eventually it occurred to everyone that they should maybe freaking study this shit, idk. and eventually the researchers concluded that the superpowers came from a new gene that apparently isn’t human. and upon hearing that, society apparently lost its freaking mind. which is fascinating to me because it implies that the turning point wasn’t actually the superpowers themselves, but the realization of what it meant

like, so they were apparently fine with it when they thought it was a “mysterious disease”, but somehow it hit different when they learned it wasn’t actually a sickness at all, but instead the Next Step in Evolution. and it became an “us vs them” thing, as opposed to a “we have to cure these poor people” thing. damn

anyway so now Japan is a dystopia and we’re cutting to a big crowd of merc-looking dudes who are getting ready to attack some “meta freaks”, how lovely

but who is this figure in the shadows

I ask politely, as if it wasn’t already beyond obvious that this is AFO about to wreck some people’s shit

ohhhhh my god lmao

hopefully Katsuki and Deku can take the present day AFO out before he winds up looking like this. because this little fella is clearly demonic and idk if anyone can stop him

you all don’t understand. you need to run the fuck away right now

oh shit it’s already too late for them

it’s too late for any of us. it’s over. it’s all fucking over

((((；゜Д゜)))

AFO I am putting the manga down. I am backing away slowly with my hands in the air. I mean you no harm. please for the love of god have mercy

holy

“you see, we told you he wasn’t human” okay Scientific Research Group, you know what?? you win this round I guess

“HE WAS LITERALLY EVIL FROM BIRTH” HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY ARE YOU OKAY??

HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY is literally the most terrifying sentence I have ever read

what the entire fuck

it’s a gorgeous sunny mid-November afternoon outside my window. but no matter how hard it tries, the light cannot reach this place

what kind of moron would throw a can of soda at him. officially the stupidest person we have ever seen in this manga

OH MY GOD OF COURSE IT’S HIM LMAO

(ETA: how come baby Yoichi has clothes that fit him perfectly but baby AFO is just stomping around wearing a tablecloth.)

BABY YOICHI. OH MY GOD. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GROW UP TO BE SANE AND KIND AND GOOD. THAT’S MY QUESTION THAT I NEED ANSWERED RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE LITERALLY A MIRACLE. YOU ARE AN IMPOSSIBILITY, DO YOU KNOW THAT

small and weak, but also so, so cute. all of the cuteness genes went straight to him. no wonder AFO was jealous

(ETA: just want to press pause for a second to speculate about what type of twins AFO and Yoichi are, since it has some relevance to the story, and especially to the OFA/AFO quirk lore. so! at first glance the two of them would appear to be fraternal twins, just based on the fact that they have very different appearances, and also the fact that Yoichi doesn’t have the AFO quirk – no holes in his hands, etc. identical twins are born from the same fertilized egg, so in theory they would both have the same sequence of DNA, which means Yoichi would have had the same quirk as AFO. but that doesn’t appear to be the case. so all of that points to them being fraternal, not identical.

on the other hand, there is one piece of evidence in this chapter that does support them being identical twins, and that’s the fact that per the narration, AFO absorbed most of the nutrients from their mother. a few minutes of google fu informed me that this condition is relatively rare, and only happens in cases where two twins share a placenta, which typically is only the case for identical twins. HOWEVER, for what it’s worth, there have also been rare instances where two fraternal twin placentas fuse together and become a single placenta. AND this apparently also increases the chances of one of the twins gaining more of the nutrients and causing the other twin to have a lower birth weight.

so based on the evidence here, my conclusion is that the two of them are most likely fraternal twins with a case of placental fusion. besides, you can’t tell me that stealing his baby brother’s placenta while the two of them are literally still in the womb doesn’t sound like exactly the type of BS that fetus!AFO would pull, lol.)

HEY!?!

okay?!?!?! well to be fair he did throw that soda at him

oh my god this is so fucked up. in like the best and worst way possible

I genuinely couldn’t ask for a better AFO backstory. it’s so incredibly twisted, and you actually do feel sorry for him. or at least I do. but it’s also beyond clear that this kid was FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL REASON right from the get go. zero goodness in him. literally doesn’t see other people as people. sees them as possessions only. things to rule over. not other thinking, feeling human beings. and that includes his own little brother

but. even if it’s not actually what I would call love, there’s still... attachment, there. it’s the closest he can get to actually caring about someone. guh. just, somehow they have both managed to humanize him, and at the same time made him less human than ever. this manga, man. this fucking manga, though

lmao and here we go. Captain Hero

you know, all those times that I made fun of AFO for not knowing how to read, I never suspected that the twist in his backstory would be that he LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO READ dfksjdlfkjslkdf

but seriously though. because Yoichi appears to be self-taught, and I can’t see AFO having the patience for that, and CLEARLY no one else was around to teach him, sooooo...

oh my goodness it’s actually getting wholesome up in here

what a good fucking boy. poor AFO. fuck me, I can’t help it. it’s not your fault you’re the world’s greatest monster you poor bastard

now we’re cutting to THREE YEARS LATER. okay

is he going to declare war on the glowing baby

typical teenager concerned about nothing but likes and view counts. AFO you would be so much happier if you stopped worrying about all of that and just focused on your own growth

oh, lol. well that was quick

(ETA: r.i.p. Damien.)

“this guy had more instagram followers than me. so I killed him” honey. sweetie pie. you need therapy

omfg

all this time I was wondering who AFO’s middle school lit teacher was who had failed so spectacularly at teaching him reading comprehension. and it was YOICHI ALL ALONG. omg

“and, presumably, that’s how it always was and always will be.” dude. can you imagine listening to AFO’s oral book report on A Tale of Two Cities. “ahem. it was the Best of Times. the end” buddy noooooooo

it was at that moment when Yoichi knew, etc. etc.

oh my GOD I scrolled down to the next panel right after this one and I just IMMEDIATELY DIED LAUGHING

“WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID” ffffffffffffffff I fucking can’t omfg

NOW THIS HUSSY IS STEALING HIS BROTHER AWAY FROM HIM NOOOOOOO

HE’S HIS!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!! THAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!!

oh my god the hands. so wait, is this just the standard symbolic BnHA handholding, or are there More Levels To This. when exactly did Yoichi pass OFA on to Kudou. like is that why the sudden close-up and all that? omg

WHAT!!!!

OH THAT’S THE END, HUH? THAT’S THE END RIGHT THERE, AND THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS. I SEE. OKAY THEN. EXCUSE ME WHILE I PUT MY LAPTOP DOWN AND GO INTO THE NEXT ROOM AND SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

oh my god. and break next week too. this is what you guys have been dealing with this entire time huh. I understand your feelings now. godfuckingdammit lmao

[outlanderskin]

November. Yesterday, Starzzzzzz released the premiere date for the second part of the seventh season, as if the interval between the first and second had been just three or six months. They did not publish any justification or apology. Starzzzzzz's disregard for Outlander fans is nothing new and portrays well what one side of the fandom (chosen as a scapegoat) has been feeling for years, only this time misfortune came for everyone. Well, we're talking about a company that in the year 2024 still thinks that focusing on the female audience means exposing males as an available piece of meat. A company that keeps Outlander in its catalog for so long because it knows that's what makes a profit. There is no concern about quality of interactions or consideration for the public. But the interesting thing about this is that it seems that only our side of the fandom has noticed this... for years. The other segments always resigned themselves to the crumbs offered and always criticized us for complaining about the lack of publicity and interaction. They thought we did it just because we wanted to watch S&C videos, photos or interviews together; They accused us of mixing fiction with reality, but in reality we were always demanding the basics. It's impossible that Starzzzzz's eternal apologists have never noticed over the years how other companies treat their customers on hiatus and how Starzzzzzz treats Outlander fans.

The fact that Starzzzzzz behaves in the most unprofessional way possible is nothing new for us. Who remembers another entertainment company whose CEO uses interviews or social media to talk about actors' private lives or incite hatred against a specific group of customers? It's interesting to see now, how some of the people who applauded him at the time (even though it was totally unprofessional), are angry because they will have to wait for something, without any plausible justification. I really hope that these people who consider themselves the best fans ever, practically members of the Starzzzzz family, have finally realized that they are just consumers. LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.