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k0mmari · 8 months ago

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SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU (Pt.2)

Pt.1

Im not done with this, so to the people that wanted more, here it is! I, fortunately or not, have thought way too much again, so once more this is going to be a very, very, VERY long post. If you guys have any ideas about this btw, please do share them! I really am just letting my mind wander a bit more than usual, so maybe someone else can have more structured thoughts than me lol. (Fair warning, there probably will be plot holes, so sorry in advance!)

Please read Pt.1 if you haven't, or this won't make any sense!

After SY warped away from his impromptu meeting with Binghe, the last place he would like to end up would be even deeper into the Endless Abyss, but according to his System, the next piece of the virus was here. While not happy, since his Personal System was (mostly) working as intended, SY managed to activate Ghost Mode and walk towards the next part without having to deal with any of the creatures down there. (He had to try very hard not to get distracted by the monsters, lest his supervisor thinks he also went missing.)

It takes considerably more time to find the virus this time, so much in fact, SY starts to recognize his surroundings from SQH's ramblings (not that he was interested or anything), and he feels a cold sense of dread running down his spine. There was no way he was that unlucky that the object that got corrupted this time was-

He was that unlocky. Lo and behold, after entering a run down ruin, SY is faced with the legendary Xin Mo, power so overwhelming it manifested as dark fire covering the blade. The only reason why SY wasn't immediately writhing on the ground from the sword's power was Ghost Mode, which he could not rely for too long, as his Personal System was displaying warning after warning about Possibility of Corruption and God Like Plot Point. It all meant that SY was on a timer, and if he took too long, the sword would start corrupting his System, which in turn could corrupt him.

Now, since this was a VERY important Plot Point, Luo Binghe had to find Xin Mo or else the plot would derail to an unfixable degree, SY couldn't just snip at it, which was a problem, since manual debugging took a considerably longer time! Still, he summons his Scissors and positions it so he can start at least trimming off the virus.

His plan immediately backfires however, as an ominous crack sounds through the air and he's suddenly pushed away from the sword by a gust of energy. A bit disoriented, he shakes his head and acesses the sit-

Xin Mo, the horrible sword it was, was apparently so OP that it seemed to detect the Scissors at the last second, and the thing attacked back! The metal of the Scissors was dark and broken where it came close to the sword, almost broken in half! Which, not good! It any other time, a pair of broken Debugging Sheers would be more or less fine, if not a major inconvinience (and pay deduction) for SY, but since he'd been warping all over the time for a while now, his Personal System's energy reserves were carefully rationed, and if he were to use a chunk to send the Scissors back for some emergency repair, he'd only have one chance to go back to HQ. Alone.

He couldn't delay it any longer, he desperately needed to find SQH and pray he still had some energy reserves left.

Setting his Personal System's next warp location to SQH's last known location, SY wouldn't have guessed in a million years that he would go back to Cang Qiong Mountain, but whatever; maybe SQH had wanted to start with fixing the bug on Binghe's pendant? Not that this was the right time since it was after Binghe fell into the Abyss, but SQH had never been good at warping. It takes a bit of wandering and going inside different buildings, but eventually his Personal System managed to get a dirrect ping on SQH's System, which sent a massive wave of relief rushing through SY, since it meant that SQH was still slive.

Though as to why he was at An Ding Peak, SY could only guess.

After a bit more wandering, SY enters on what seems to be a (very messy) office space, SY feels all the pieces coming together in his mind. Half sprawled across the table with piles of paper covering the entire table's surface lay the An Ding Peak Lord, which- was already weird, since wasn't this guy supposed to be an enemy of the Peak now? After the whole betrayal thing or whatever? But that would've been something to look into later, were it not for said Peak Lord casually scrolling through a Personal System screen. A Personal System that could only be used by the System's Maintanence Staff.

SY wastes no time in deactivating Ghost Mode, and when SQH's eyes snap to his, the man jumps so high from his chair he almost falls back. It's not a happy reunion by a longshot, since SY immediately jumped his friend co-worker and demanded an explaination, almost screaming about it was all his fault for doing shitty maintenence, and creating this shitty world if it's shitty OP sword which broke his Sheers? Do you know how expensive these are?? I know you do, cause the supervisor never lets you touch the good ones cause you keep cracking all the other pairs-

It takes a more or less one whole hour to calm down SY, but eventually the younger settled and lets SQH say his bit of the story: Apparently, in his messing around with the System's world creation program when he was trying to find the bug in his world, he'd accidentaly managed to get himself actually transmigrated to PIDW, though still with (limited) acess to his Personal System, which let him still send messages to their supervisor and pretend that everything was ok. He'd gotten so unlucky too! Out of all the people to accidentaly select, did it have to be the An Ding Peak Lord? Couldn't it have been Binghe? Or MBJ- (SQH cuts his lamenting when he notices SY's absolutely viscious death glare being stared right through his soul.)

Long story short, he'd initially did try to fix his blunder, but as more time passed and SQH's access to Maintenance priviledges went out one by one on his System, he eventually just... Started actually living there. In fact, he was living so well there that he dared say his life as Peak Lord was even better then when he was with the System! Of course, since he had been integrated as a 'character' now, he had his limitations, he actually managed to get to know his fellow peak lords! He knew the name of his character's family members and his disciples! He'd managed to build a life he never even thought he could have inside the System.

Sure, did he betray the Peak? Yes, yes he did. Were they all going to die in a few years time when Binghe came back from hell? Yeah, yeah they were, and he was immensely guilty and terrified, but! The plot could be changed! He already assumed someone from the System had popped up in the Conference, as when Binghe had recently made his alliance with MBJ, and had mentioned in passing this weird thing that had happened to him just before he fell into the Abyss.

Anyways, eventually SY begrudgingly accepts SQH's decision to stay in PIDW, but he still had to help SY; and so they form a plan: SY was going to transfer some energy to SQH so he could temporarily get his acess to the full version of his Personal System and use his energy reserves to send SY's Sheers and get them fixed. SQH was also going to properly apologize to their supervisor for suddenly quitting without notice AND order some more energy stacks to be sent to SY's System. SY on the other hand had devises a plan to get closer to XIn Mo without the sword exploding his face off:

Infiltrate Demon Emperor Luo Binghe's palace as a lowly staff member and slowly debug the sword from the inside.

A perfect plan! What could go wrong?

SY selects to warp to a time where Binghe had Xin Mo mostly in control, so it is to no surprise he warps to a place were the Demonic Emperor's Palace is absolutely filled with women. Not the best situation, since a lot of people could and probably would be able to see him, but with that many harem members, it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume there was also a considerable number of staff, which, to SY's luck, there was! In fact, after he managed to activate a disguise for his clothes so they matched the rest of the servants, no one bat an eye on his presence; at most someone would inquire about his short hair, but other than that he was as noteable as a fly.

The first phase of his plan was already a success, so now he had to move on to reconnaissance which was mostly easy and the worst thing in his life. He was mostly looking for Binghe's quarters could be as he probably kept the sword close to him at all times, though with how big the palace was, his objective had gradually shifted to mapping out the labyrinth of halls as much as possible (SY was very glad that the System allowed him to create a map in real time or he might have gotten lost in the first five minutes). He walks so much he even manages to catch a few pieces of gossip, though the most interesting one by far being one about Binghe:

Apparently, a year ago, the Emperor had a qi deviation where, for a day, he seemed to have completely shifted his personality; he refused to touch any of his wives and kept screaming for his long dead Shizun. SY doesn't really remember that plot point, though his wondering is cut short when he hears people walking towards his direction. instinctively he his behind a dark corner, momentarily forgetting that he 'worked' at the palace now.

At list his bad luck was finally turning over as the Golden Protagonist himself walked past him with one of his wives hanging off his arm, looking just as cool as SY had always imagined. He had to snap himself out of his stuppor though, as two things caught his attention: First, Xin Mo was, predictably, strapped to his waist, still glitched but at least the virus seemed more or less contained, which gave SY a bit more time to work, though the other thing he noticed...

Hanging onto an old-looking braid laid SY's missing tassle that Binghe had found for him all the way back at the Conference.

What the hell was Luo Binghe doing wearing that old tassle at this day and age??

A few days passed and the Tassle Incident (as he called it) had to be set aside, as it seemed that passing as a servant also meant that other servants and even some wives expected SY to actually work. Not great, he sucked at cleaning and the other servants spared no words to make it clear to him, but it at least gave him something to do while he waited for his Scissors to arrive. SQH had sent him a few messages saying he'd gotten his part of the deal done, so now all SY could do was monitor Xin Mo's condition (from very far away), and occasionally manually debug some small virus pieces that had fallen from the sword, which luckily were easy enough to deal with that he didn't need to cut them off.

The only thing that was worrying him now is how... odd Luo Binghe seemed. Of course, he was supposed to be the pinnacle of the Cool Guy trope, so some edginess was to be expected, but Binghe didn't look just Edgy, he looked straight up depressed. There were bags under his eyes, and he barely seemed to tolerate the presence of 99% of his wives, and that damned braid with the damned tassle was still there-

Point is, Binghe acting so weird really threw SY through a loop, and he may have gotten a bit careless. At a random day when SY was carrying some dirty laundry another servant had just shoved at him, he had no prior warning before a voice sounded from behind him: "You seem to have dropped something."

He barely managed to shake off the violent sense of deja-vu that had sucker punched him in the face before he realized what was happening; Luo Binghe was talking to him. Directly to him. Shit- shit! Did he notice? Was Binghe doing a clever call back, spider-man style?? Was SY going to die????

SY shakily turns to Binghe, keeping his eyes locked onto the floor, bowing as much as possible that he still seemed respectful but the bag of clothes he had didn't all just fall to the floor. Thankfully Binghe didn't seem to mind, and simply put the fallen piece of clothing on top of the others and walked away. Though, just as SY was regaining his breath, Luo Binghe's voice stops him again. "You... Have we met before?"

SY trembles something about only being hired recently and not having the opportunity to formaly meet Junshang, and it seems to be a decent enough that Binghe just stares at him for a while longer before walking away. He really should grow out his hair if even the Emperor got weirded out like that...

Binghe started eyeing SY way more after that day. The protagonist would rarely speak directly to him, but SY could feel his gaze as if it were burning; though, since Binghe never said anything, SY just assumed that whatever Binghe's problem with him was, it was likely nothing to worry about.

In fact, it probably was because one of Binghe's wives had used SY is an impromptu act to try to get Binghe jealous (he just frowned, separated the two and walked away) and after that she had gotten infatuated with him, so she'd turned SY into her personal servant. Because of that SY saw Binghe at most two times a week instead of the 50% chnace of seeing his shadow once a week. Wow.

Because of this, as much as Binghe noticed SY, SY noticed Binghe as well, the protagonist seeming to get even more down as the days went. The tassle was still braided in his hair (SY worried it was just going to become a lock at this point), his eyebags never seemed to leave his eyes, and he was always muttering about... something. (SY managed to overhear something about 'fairness' and what Binghe actually wanted...?)

It all culminated at a seemingly random night. Most of the wives and servants had gone to sleep, only the more in-human women still hanging around, and SY, of course, but mostly it was because he wanted to see how close he could get to Binghe's quarters (aka Xin Mo) at night. Not that it was necessary, as when he was walking his attention was adruptly caught by the strangest sight: Luo binghe, sitting on one of the stone stair that lead to one of the many courtyards, being absolutely drenched in rain. The weirdest part was that a few servants and wives had also passed this place, and they all seemed like they didn't see Binghe, or didn't care.

Hating to see such an usually proud man (not that he'd seen much of that either) just soaking outside as if he'd just caught the love of his life cheating with another man, SY decided that at least he'd do a good job as a servant and take care of 'his Lord'. He grabs an umbrella from one of the adjacent rooms and slowly walks outside, covering Luo Binghe's form, not really caring if he was also getting soaked.

They stayed silent for who knows how long, but eventually, Binghe's eyes that had been laser focused on the horizon slowly blink once, as if coming out of a trance, and slowly move to SY's face, up to his hand holding the umbrella. "My Lord should get back inside. He'll get sick that way." SY half murmurs.

Binghe doesn't respond, though after a few seconds, his eyes seem to widen a bit and his breath comes out a little shaky. SY doesn't dare comment on it.

"Have we met before?" Luo Binghe asks again.

"...Yes." Shen Yuan says.

Binghe closes his eyes, and they stay like that for another hour.

Pt.3

#WE'RE DONE FOR NOW #this got atrociously long im so sorry #also im sorry for any typos im sure there were a lot #im not fixing them now doe #drabble #svsss #fanfic #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #luo bingge #bingyuan #binggeeyuan #this is set after bingge vc bingmei #if it wasnt clear enough #komm's system au

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reasonsforhope · 2 months ago

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"The first satellite in a constellation designed specifically to locate wildfires early and precisely anywhere on the planet has now reached Earth's orbit, and it could forever change how we tackle unplanned infernos.

The FireSat constellation, which will consist of more than 50 satellites when it goes live, is the first of its kind that's purpose-built to detect and track fires. It's an initiative launched by nonprofit Earth Fire Alliance, which includes Google and Silicon Valley-based space services startup Muon Space as partners, among others.

According to Google, current satellite systems rely on low-resolution imagery and cover a particular area only once every 12 hours to spot significantly large wildfires spanning a couple of acres. FireSat, on the other hand, will be able to detect wildfires as small as 270 sq ft (25 sq m) – the size of a classroom – and deliver high-resolution visual updates every 20 minutes.

The FireSat project has only been in the works for less than a year and a half. The satellites are fitted with custom six-band multispectral infrared cameras, designed to capture imagery suitable for machine learning algorithms to accurately identify wildfires – differentiating them from misleading objects like smokestacks.

These algorithms look at an image from a particular location, and compare it with the last 1,000 times it was captured by the satellite's camera to determine if what it's seeing is indeed a wildfire. AI technology in the FireSat system also helps predict how a fire might spread; that can help firefighters make better decisions about how to control the flames safely and effectively.

This could go a long way towards preventing the immense destruction of forest habitats and urban areas, and the displacement of residents caused by wildfires each year. For reference, the deadly wildfires that raged across Los Angeles in January were estimated to have cuased more than $250 billion in damages.

Muon is currently developing three more satellites, which are set to launch next year. The entire constellation should be in orbit by 2030.

The FireSat effort isn't the only project to watch for wildfires from orbit. OroraTech launched its first wildfire-detection satellite – FOREST-1 – in 2022, followed by one more in 2023 and another earlier this year. The company tells us that another eight are due to go up toward the end of March."

-via March 18, 2025

#wildfire #wildfires #la wildfires #los angeles #ai #artificial intelligence #machine learning #satellite #natural disasters #good news #hope

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fairsweetlonging · 15 hours ago

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svsss horror game au where shen yuan is first in line to buy the pidw-inspired rpg where you play as a wandering cultivator with amnesia, and are taken in by the cang qiong sect during the head disciple days of the last peak lord generation.

because pidw knows its audience, a large part of the marketing was focused on the romance and action aspect of the game, with additional lore from deleted novel scenes—how could shen yuan not buy this game? maybe the peak lords will finally be more than props in the background! the romance aspect seems to be at least somewhat tastefully done, if he can trust the leaks, with more emotional depth than fetish fulfillment (shen yuan swears that if there is even one unskippable cutscene of some peak lord's feet he's going to chuck his computer out the window).

shen yuan customizes his character, going all out on the clichés because why not, giving him white hair and peerless beauty and all the characteristics of an A+ wife (beauty is power in pidw), actually excited to play the game. the first part is standard, you wake up in a barn with amnesia, only a sword and some items to your name, and have to do some tutorial quests to get used to the game mechanics. it's simple enough. eventually, you end up in a village that shen yuan is certain is possessed, because all the NPC's act very unnatural and strange, and it's pretty unsettling. here, the player is supposed to meet the cang qiong head disciples on their own quest, who naturally think the player is the most interesting person they've ever seen, a super special cultivator, and will take him in because the player is the most coveted character in the universe (apart from luo binghe, that is).

of course, before shen yuan can get very far, he ends up being transmigrated into the game as his own character. it could be way worse: he's a cultivator, peerlessly beautiful, destined to be picked up by the most prestigious sect, and has his own protagonist halo of sorts. he's honestly pretty excited about this

until he finds out that the marketing heavily downplayed the horror elements of the game.

shen yuan is calmly eating a meal in an inn of the village, waiting for the next quest point to start, when suddenly,

[ system notification ]

"you are being observed"

observation level: ???

entity classification: unknown

engagement protocol: do not acknowledge

right after, the windows go dark, not closed or shuttered, dark, as if something large has just leaned against the side of the building. no one else acknowledges this.

shen yuan shakes it off. it's just a game, it's... ambiance, that's all. build up.

he walks through the streets of the town, using his low-level talismans to try and find traces of the entity he's supposed to defeat or uncover to complete the quest. he pauses beside a broken cart, one of its wheels is half-sunk in the mud. the system pings again.

[ system notification ]

"it's behind you."

note: do not turn around.

(option to suppress message: [ ] not recommended)

the street is utterly silent. a prickle begins at the base of his skull. something is there. some deep animalistic part of him is already screaming not to look.

it disappears. he earns 5 survival points. he hopes he won't have to earn any more.

later that night, shen yuan looks for shelter, finding an old shrine visible from the road, just at the side of town. he steps inside and sees old incense sticks, some forgotten offerings. it's simple, but dry. it will do.

he crosses the threshold—

[ mission triggered ]

mission objective: hide

time limit: unknown

condition to complete: remain unnoticed

footsteps crunch in the leaves outside. every nerve in him goes rigid—not human.

too heavy. uneven. it's coming.

shen yuan ducks behind the offering table, body pressed flat against the ground. he slows his breathing, barely daring to blink. a screen in his peripheral vision blinks to life.

[ environmental mechanic activated ]

microphone mode: ON

sound detection level: HIGH

a semi-transparent sound meter appears. with every shaky breath, the bar pulses red. shen yuan clamps his hands over his mouth.

something passes, just beyond the shrine's opening. large. the system does not count down. there is no timer. the floor boards moan faintly beneath a ponderous weight, something drags across the ground.

shen yuan forces his body still, trembling so hard it hurts his teeth.

it leaves. the system congratulates him for surviving. it doesn't tell him what he just survived.

it's a relief when the head disciples of cang qiong show up, and the story delves into romantic cliches and relationship prompts. he gets to see liu qingge shirtless. shen qingqiu is typical tsundere. yue qingyuan is the soft gentle type. shang qinghua acts... off. he isn't what shen yuan thought he would be, less cunningly charming, more, well. nervous. of all the head disciples, he's the only one who actually seems like he doesn't want shen yuan to be here, always looking around.

like he knows shen yuan didn't come alone.

more instances like this occur. one moment, he's farming reputation points and relationship points with the other characters, doing quests and gathering memory fragments that will help unlock the player's backstory, the next, the system seems determined to make the game hell.

it always comes out of nowhere

[ system update ]

"warning: your heartbeat has been logged by another entity."

would you like to mute heartbeat tracking?

[ ] yes

[ ] no

[ ] it's too late.

he can never figure out what's following him, what that creature from the village is, but it's always there. no one else seems to notice, not a single talisman or ward can stop or detect it.

it comes even when he's in bed, still faintly blushing from a wife-plot equivalent where he fell from a ladder and was caught in wei qingwei's arms. he got to pet the pangolins too!

he's just about to fall asleep when the system pings:

[ mission objective: survive until dawn ]

hint: do not scream

somewhere beneath the floorboards under his bed, something begins scraping. like claws trying to memorize the layout of the house from below. shen yuan doesn't dare move. sleep never comes that night.

he can farm intelligence points by attending classes, and being the monster and plant nerd he is, qian cao peak is his first choice (it's either that, being beat up by bai zhan disciples that aren't even liu qingge, or running into shen qingqiu).

in the middle of a lesson on demonic poisons, the system pings quietly

[ system message ]

"one of the bodies in the infirmary is not a body"

objective: don't lose sight of it

shen yuan turns his head, slowly, to the curtained recovery beds along the wall. the curtain on the last one is slightly open.

it wasn't before.

mu qingfang continues speaking. shen yuan doesn't dare to look away.

one day, the thing starts to catch up

[ mission failure ]

"the sound you made has been registered"

estimated proximity: 00:00:17

do you want to run?

[ ] yes (not recommended)

[ ] no (not recommended)

[ emergency notice ]

"you were seen"

objective: hide

time limit: expired

success rate: 2%.

do you want to proceed?

[ ] yes

[ achievement unlocked: it found you anyway ]

anyway, can you tell i had fun with the horror prompts? ^_^

i just have sooooo many ideas for the player's backstory, where it seems the character is just a blank slate for the player to project themselves onto, but there is so much more to them than you think. im also having loads of fun with the creature that follows the player around, i love making it as disturbing as possible.

mild spoiler: the creature is real and connected to the player. other characters can't detect or interact with it, but it's slowly growing stronger. shang qinghua is, of course, airplane, and as he was directly involved with the production of this game, he knew that as soon as an OC showed up, that thing wouldn't be far behind.

also, i love the idea of shang qinghua being stuck in a dating simulator as one of the options to romance. now shang qinghua has to play along with his own cringy cliche meetcutes, like showing the player around, flirting with the player, and generally playing the role of suave administrator with a dark secret (he's terrible at it). he had to do the "there's an eyelash on your cheek allow me" move on the player (shen yuan), and almost cringed out of his own skin. though, shang qinghua is the only one who can properly emphasize with the player, because he actually knows what horrid creature is stuck to him and what kind of horror scenarios the player has to go through (accidental cumplane? it's more likely than you think).

it's a bit of a mindfuck too, because shang qinghua can't tell whether the player is also a transmigrator, a puppet controlled by someone from another dimension, or a fleshed out OC of the system. he's also not allowed to ask, so it remains ambiguous. until, of course, they find out they're transmigrators and shen yuan has to deal with the fact he almost romanced airplane.

shen yuan makes a joke about defeating the creature with the power of love. shang qinghua says he wished it was that easy.

#i loooove horror but im honestly scaring myself #its worth it tho #i love the whiplash between ''liu qingge brings you his kills +10 romance stats''#and ''it saw you. final objective: survive''#brings some diversity into my diet #shen yuan himself also switches back and forth #bc at some point the player gets so scared that a peak lord offers them their bed or smth (if points are high enough)#so shen yuan is like HMPH i knew it!! cheesy romance plot contrivance!!#but the next that awful thing is scratching at the outside of his walls and hey shixiong scoot up a bit will you?#svsss #svsss au #horror game au #scum villain #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #yue qingyuan #shang qinghua #cang qiong mountain peak lords

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ghostlynightpanda · 27 days ago

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HII, I WANTED TO REQUEST A FLUFFY FIC OF DAZAI X READER IT CAN BE ANYTHING I DON'T MIND.

-St4rz

P.S "I love you're writing dude it's so amazing 🎀"

Veil of Thorns

A/N: I know this request is fairly new, but I’ve had this Dazai fic sitting in my drafts for a while, so I thought I’d finally post it. Hope you like it!

synopsis: Feared for a deadly touch that once took a life, you've lived in isolation, cut off from the world. But everything changes when the Armed Detective Agency seeks you out—offering a new life, and a chance to be close again, thanks to Dazai’s power to nullify your ability.

content/warnings: ADA!Dazai x reader, mentions of death and trauma, fluff, 6.161 words

You were alone.

But that was nothing new. Loneliness had long since become your shadow, your silent companion. It lingered in every room you entered, sat with you during meals, echoed in your footsteps. You weren't just used to it—you had adapted, folded yourself neatly into its shape.

Sometimes, when the silence grew too thick, you tried to remember the last time you'd spoken to someone and meant it—held a conversation that wasn't strained by fear or ended in tragedy. When had you last felt the warmth of a hand on your shoulder, the press of a hug not weighed down by caution?

You couldn't remember. Not clearly.

Ever since your ability first awakened—violent, raw, and unforgiving—you had been pushed to the margins of society. Or maybe you had pulled yourself there, out of guilt. Out of fear. The day it manifested, you had still been a child. Just a kid, small and bright-eyed, with no idea of the power coiled beneath your skin. You hadn't even known you were dangerous.

Until that morning.

It had started so simply. The sun had risen lazily through the curtains. You had been happy. Giddy even. You remember the smell of breakfast, the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, and the hum of your father's voice as he moved about. You ran to him, arms outstretched, beaming with all the love in the world.

He turned at the last second, smiling, and caught you in his arms.

But his smile faded.

Your father collapsed the instant your arms wrapped around him. You didn't understand at first. His body shook violently—spasms like waves of pain tearing through him—and then… he stilled.

You called his name again and again, your voice rising into panic. You shook him, tried to wake him, tried to hold on. But it was already too late.

He was gone.

It took time—hours of crying, of confusion, of horror—before the truth settled in like a sickness. It wasn't a heart attack. It wasn't some cruel twist of fate. It was you. You had done this. Your touch had killed the man you loved most in the world.

That day, something inside you broke.

Authorities came. Specialists followed. That's when the term was first whispered around you—clinical, detached, like labeling a disease.

Veil of Thorns. That was what they called it.

A grim name, taken from the Greek god of death. Fitting, wasn't it? With just a touch, you could disrupt a person's nervous system so violently that they collapsed into unconsciousness. Harmless, they said, if contact was brief. But if you held on—if your skin lingered against theirs for more than a few seconds—death was inevitable.

They told you to wear gloves. To avoid contact. To isolate. As if that would make it better. As if precautions could fill the gaping hole where your father's laughter used to be.

From that point on, people kept their distance. And you let them. You convinced yourself it was safer this way, easier. No one could die if you stayed alone.

But loneliness, you soon realized, was its own kind of death.

After your father's death, you became a child nobody wanted.

The system didn't know what to do with you. You were passed from one orphanage to another like a cursed object no one dared keep for long. Each new home came with fresh smiles, promises of understanding—but they never lasted. Word about your ability always got out, whether through whispered gossip or terrified staff who had witnessed your gloves slip off by accident. Fear always found you.

Caretakers kept their distance. Other children were warned to stay away. And when accidents happened—minor ones, mostly, but enough to stir panic—the solution was always the same: move you along. You were a problem to be passed on, never solved. By the time you turned fifteen, there were no more doors left to knock on. The last orphanage didn't bother with a goodbye. One cold morning, they simply handed you a duffel bag of your belongings and shut the gate behind you.

You were on the streets after that.

Alone again.

You learned quickly how to survive. Hunger taught you where to find food, fear taught you which alleys were safe to sleep in. The city of Yokohama, so full of life and light for others, became a shadowed maze of avoidance for you. Every human encounter was a potential tragedy. A misplaced touch, a stumble, a brush of fingers—and someone else might die.

Eventually, you found work. A factory on the edge of the industrial district took you in—no questions, no handshakes. It was the kind of place where nobody cared who you were, as long as you showed up on time and kept your head down. Perfect. You kept to yourself, speaking only when absolutely necessary. Day after day, you stood at the assembly line, performing the same task over and over again. It was tedious. Mechanical. Lonely.

But it was safe.

Within a few months, you saved enough to rent a small flat. You chose one tucked away in a quiet corner of Yokohama—an old building with crumbling walls and no neighbors who asked questions. The streets there were silent, devoid of the usual city noise. No children playing. No vendors shouting. Just the dull hum of distant traffic and the occasional stray cat slinking through the alleyways.

You made it your haven.

Groceries were ordered online and delivered to your door. You never had to set foot in a store, never had to worry about brushing hands with a cashier. No more crowded subways or bustling markets. You avoided rush hours like a phantom. Even on your way to work, you took the back alleys and narrow walkways where no one else bothered to walk. You had trained your life into a pattern of evasion—every move calculated, every step a quiet effort to remain unnoticed.

The accidents stopped happening.

Not because you were cured. But because you had removed yourself from the world that might force you to touch it.

Now, your world was made of empty rooms and routine. A small apartment where nothing changed, a job where no one looked you in the eye, and a heart that had slowly grown numb beneath layers of caution. You didn't even miss people anymore. Not really. Not in any way that could outweigh the terror of hurting them.

You had found peace, in a way.

A fragile, silent peace built on isolation.

And you told yourself that was enough.

Of course, solitude didn't mean you were always left alone.

One day, a man came looking for you.

He wasn't like the others—no wide eyes or trembling hands. He was calm, composed, dressed in a dark coat that fluttered like a shadow behind him as he stepped into your empty world. His voice was smooth, words carefully chosen, as though rehearsed.

He said he knew who you were. What you could do.

And he offered you something no one else had ever dared: a place to belong.

He spoke of power, of purpose, of shedding the chains that bound you to this isolated existence. If you were willing to offer your ability to him—if you pledged loyalty to his cause, to his people—he promised your life would change.

You wouldn't be a ghost anymore. You wouldn't have to hide.

He said you would be respected, even feared—not as a monster, but as a comrade. A weapon, yes, but valued. Protected. Understood.

The Port Mafia, he called them. You didn't need the name explained. Everyone in Yokohama knew who they were. You had heard their stories whispered like warnings—of blood on backstreets, of bodies found without answers, of entire businesses crushed overnight when they refused to cooperate.

They didn't just take what they wanted. They erased what stood in their way.

And now, they wanted you.

Maybe… maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he could have changed your life. Maybe there, among people who lived outside the law and moral constraints, you would have found something like acceptance. After all, monsters had no reason to fear other monsters.

But it would have come at a price.

You saw it in his eyes—cold, measured, evaluating. He didn't want you. He wanted what you could do. The death beneath your skin.

If you joined them, you would be used.

Every ounce of your guilt and pain twisted into something lethal, something transactional. No more running. No more loneliness. But also—no more choice. No more innocence. You would become what they saw in you. A weapon, unsheathed.

You said no.

You didn't yell. You didn't tremble. You simply raised your hand—slowly, deliberately—until your gloved fingers hovered just centimeters from his coat sleeve. Not touching. But close enough to make the warning unmistakable.

The air between you crackled with silent threat.

"I won't be your blade," you told him. "Not now. Not ever."

He didn't flinch. Didn't retreat. He just nodded, lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile. Something more like a promise.

And then, like a shadow, he was gone.

But you knew better than to think that was the end of it.

The Port Mafia didn't make offers lightly. If they had come for you once, they would come again. Sooner or later. Especially if they truly needed what only you could do.

Your peace, as fragile as it was, had begun to fracture.

And somewhere deep inside, you wondered how long you could keep choosing solitude over survival.

The day had been long—just like every other. Another monotonous shift at the factory, another quiet walk home through the empty streets of Yokohama's forgotten districts. The evening air hung heavy, the sky painted in muted grays. You kept your head down, your gloved hands tucked deep in your coat pockets, steps soft against the cracked pavement.

It was supposed to be just another uneventful return to the silence of your flat.

But as you turned onto your street, you heard voices up ahead—unfamiliar, layered, and strangely out of place in this usually lifeless part of town.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" a youthful voice asked, tinged with uncertainty. A child, maybe—definitely not someone who belonged here.

"Are you doubting me, Kenji-kun?" came the sharp reply, lazy but edged with unmistakable authority. There was an underlying smugness in it, like the speaker wasn't used to being wrong—and didn't intend to start now.

"No one's doubting you, Ranpo-san," a third voice said—female this time, calm and professional, but slightly exasperated. "Maybe she's just not home today, or—"

You rounded the corner and froze.

Three figures stood directly in front of your building. Not Port Mafia, at least not as you recognized them. But they didn't look like locals either. Their presence didn't feel accidental.

You exhaled quietly, already tired of what you assumed was another attempt to recruit you. Of course the Mafia wouldn't give up so easily—they were just using a new tactic. A new face.

Or three.

"Can I help you?" you asked flatly, your voice hollow with resignation.

The man in the brown coat turned toward you with a triumphant grin, leaning back on his heels like he'd just solved the final clue in a puzzle. His eyes remained shut, but his expression radiated smug satisfaction.

"Told you I was right," he said, sounding more pleased with himself than with the situation.

"Hello!" the boy beside him chimed, bright and cheerful. He looked no older than fifteen, with straw-colored hair and eyes as open as his smile. Genuine. Warm. Unafraid.

You blinked, startled. Instinctively, you took a step back.

It had been over a decade since anyone had smiled at you like that.

Not with pity. Not with fear. Just… kindness.

You steadied yourself, pushing down the ripple of emotion it stirred. "Can I help you?" you asked again, your voice firmer this time.

The woman, dark-haired and composed, stepped forward with a polite nod.

"You're L/N Y/N, correct? An ability user?"

"From what we've heard," the man in brown added with a casual smirk, "your touch can kill someone in seconds."

He said it like it was a party trick. Like it wasn't a curse you carried with you every second of every day.

You narrowed your eyes.

"I told the old man already—I'm not joining the Port Mafia," you said coldly, your words edged with warning. "And I'd really appreciate it if you all left me alone. Permanently."

You meant for your voice to sound threatening. You weren't sure if it did.

But the three of them didn't flinch. They didn't reach for weapons. They didn't run. Instead, the man in brown simply tilted his head, as if amused by your response, while the boy still looked at you with that same unwavering light in his eyes.

For a second, something about them felt different.

Unsettlingly different.

Not like the Mafia at all.

"I'm Kenji Miyazawa!" the boy beamed, stepping forward with unshakable cheer. "And these are Ranpo Edogawa and Dr. Akiko Yosano!" He gestured excitedly to his companions, clearly proud of the introductions. "We're not from the Port Mafia—I promise!"

You blinked at him, unsure whether to be relieved or even more suspicious. His optimism felt too... genuine. Too bright for someone standing face to face with a killer, even if you wore gloves. Even if you hadn't touched anyone in years.

"...Ah," you said at last, giving a faint nod, uncertain what else to offer. He smiled even wider, undeterred by your awkward silence.

"We're from the ADA," the woman added—her voice calm, precise. "The Armed Detective Agency. Maybe you've heard of us?"

"Of course they have!" Ranpo cut in, lifting his chin with a smug grin. "Who hasn't heard of the greatest detective in the world—me?" He pointed a thumb toward himself, eyes still closed, clearly basking in his own brilliance.

And yes—you had heard of them.

Even a recluse like you wasn't completely detached from the world. You watched the news. You kept up with reports, if only to make sure you were never in them. You knew of the Armed Detective Agency—an independent group of gifted individuals who took on the kinds of cases that the police couldn't handle. Especially those involving ability users.

They weren't villains. That much was clear. But still… trusting strangers didn't come easy to you. Especially ones who showed up at your door without warning.

"I don't understand why you're here," you admitted carefully, eyes shifting between them as they stood there, expectant.

Ranpo raised an eyebrow like you'd just asked whether water was wet. "Isn't it obvious?" he said, shrugging. "We're here to recruit you."

You stared at him.

He stared right back, utterly confident, like he already knew what your answer should be.

You didn't respond right away. You just looked at his smug expression, studied the way his coat fluttered slightly in the wind, like even the breeze knew he was full of himself.

Finally, you said, "I think you've got the wrong idea about me." Your voice was flat. Measured. "I'm not interested in being recruited by anyone. I don't want to fight. I don't want to help. I just want to be left alone."

The words settled in the air between you, heavy and certain.

But as you looked at them—Kenji's innocent smile, Yosano's composed gaze, Ranpo's annoying but oddly reassuring confidence—you couldn't help but feel like they weren't going to turn away so easily.

Not this time.

"But do you really?"

The new voice cut through the tension like a blade through silk. You turned sharply, startled by the sudden presence behind you—another man, approaching from the direction you had just come.

His hands were in his pockets, his gait relaxed, unhurried. But his eyes were sharp. Studying. Seeing too much.

"Do you really want to live like this?" he asked calmly, as though it were a simple question. "Shut away. Alone. No connection to anyone. Just... surviving."

You instinctively took a step back, your jaw tightening.

Who was this now? Another recruit? Another smiling optimist who didn't understand what it meant to be you?

Your gloved hands clenched at your sides as he kept walking, not stopping until there was barely a meter between you—close enough for danger, close enough to tempt fate.

Your voice came low, defensive, a snarl under your breath. "It's no one's business how I live my—"

"Give me your hand."

The words hit you like a slap.

Your breath caught in your throat as he extended his own hand toward you, palm up, fingers open in quiet invitation. His expression was unreadable—there was a ghost of a smile there, something casual and knowing, as if what he was asking wasn't insane.

"What?" you managed, your voice cracking slightly. "Are you insane? I can't—"

"He knows what he's doing," Ranpo called out, not even looking up from adjusting his coat.

"And if he doesn't," Kenji added brightly, "we still have Yosano-san!"

"I can heal fatal injuries," Yosano confirmed matter-of-factly, her voice steady. "My ability, Thou Shalt Not Die, restores anyone on the brink of death. So if something goes wrong... I'll be here."

You looked between them, overwhelmed by the ease in which they discussed it—your ability, your curse—as if it were nothing more than a minor technicality.

You hesitated.

And for a heartbeat, that hesitation wasn't fear. It was something colder. Something bitter. Envy.

She could heal. She could undo the damage. Bring people back from the edge.

And you?

You only ever brought them closer to it.

You cursed the world for that. Cursed yourself. Cursed whatever cruel irony had decided to make your touch a sentence and hers a salvation.

You looked down at the man's hand, still open, still waiting.

"Are you trying to test me?" you asked, voice flat, guarded. "Is this some kind of experiment?"

He shook his head slowly.

"No," he said. "We're trying to prove something to you."

And before you could react, before your instincts screamed loud enough, he reached out and took your hand in his, peeling the glove away before engulfing your hand—your bare hand—in his.

Your entire body froze.

You waited for it—the tremble, the spasms, the ragged gasp for air. The way their bodies always contorted when your ability took hold. You waited for the weight of death to settle between your joined hands.

But there was only... warmth.

No pain. No collapse. No screaming.

Just skin. Contact. Touch.

"W-What—"

"No Longer Human," he said, the faintest smile playing on his lips. "That's my ability. It nullifies all other abilities on contact. As long as I'm touching you... yours doesn't exist."

You stared at him, then at your joined hands, still struggling to believe what your senses were telling you.

It had been so long since you'd felt this—someone else. Not fabric, not plastic gloves, not the absence of touch. A person.

Your voice caught in your throat, nothing but the soft rustle of your breath filling the silence. The world seemed to still around you.

It was only a hand.

But to you, it felt like everything you'd ever been denied.

It felt like hope.

"Kenji-kun, come here," the man said, his voice calm but firm.

The cheerful boy didn't hesitate. He skipped forward, still wearing that sunny expression as if nothing in the world could go wrong. Without needing further instruction, he reached for your free hand, taking off the glove and clasping it gently.

And again—nothing.

No pain. No convulsions. No death.

Just another point of contact, another impossibility made real.

"See?" the man said softly, watching your face with a knowing look. "As long as I'm here, you can't hurt anyone."

Your breath caught in your chest.

"…Does it—" You swallowed hard, trying to clear the knot forming in your throat. "Does it still work if you're not touching me? If you're just nearby?"

For a moment, he didn't answer.

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned his head toward Kenji. "Sorry about this, Kenji-kun," he said lightly.

The boy's eyes widened. "Wait—!"

Too late.

He stepped back.

In that instant, the warmth in your hand turned into horror.

Kenji let out a cry of pain, his body seizing as he dropped to the pavement, his hand locked tight around yours in a death grip you couldn't break. His small frame twisted, legs kicking weakly as he gasped, a pained, choking sound tearing from his throat.

"No—what are you doing?!" you screamed, dropping to your knees beside him. Your hands fumbled to free his, panic overtaking your senses as your ability surged through your skin like venom. "Let go! Please—stop—!"

But Kenji didn't respond. In seconds, he went limp—face pale, lips parted, still.

Your heart shattered.

Tears sprang to your eyes as you hovered over his motionless body, your hands shaking. "Are you insane?!" you shouted, turning your fury on the man. "He was just a kid! How could you—how could you use him like that?!"

He didn't flinch. He simply tilted his head toward Yosano, who was smirking lazily, her body glowing faintly with an eerie, beautiful energy.

"Relax," he said casually. "You're forgetting about Yosano's ability."

Within moments, color was returning to Kenji's cheeks. His chest rose with a sharp inhale, and his eyes fluttered open.

You stumbled backward in disbelief.

"Still…" Ranpo spoke up, adjusting his hat, though his tone was more amused than angry. "That was reckless, Dazai. You do know there are limits to her ability."

"If it had failed," Dazai replied with a shrug, "I would've paid for the funeral."

"Dazai-san, that really hurt," Kenji grumbled as he sat up, brushing the dirt off his knees. Despite having just died, he looked no worse for wear—irritated, but otherwise completely unfazed. He was even smiling again.

Your head spun.

This had all happened so fast. Too fast.

You stared at your hands. They still felt dangerous. Cursed. But for the first time in years, someone had touched you—two people had—and lived to tell the tale.

Then Dazai extended his hand toward you once again, that same infuriatingly relaxed smile on his face.

"So," he said, voice light but with a deeper weight beneath the words, "what do you say?"

A pause.

"Ready to try a new life?"

You arrived at the Armed Detective Agency after what could only be described as the most stressful train ride of your life.

The entire time, you clung to Dazai's arm like it was a lifeline—because, in truth, it was. Not yours, but everyone else's. You weren't about to take a chance in a crowded carriage filled with unsuspecting civilians. One slip, one brush of skin, and someone might not make it home.

Dazai grumbled, of course.

"You're cursing my hand with your emotional baggage," he muttered at one point, sighing dramatically.

You ignored him.

You were still too bitter about how he'd handled things with Kenji—still haunted by the way the boy's body had gone limp in your arms. Kenji had forgiven you easily after you'd apologized over and over, brushing it off with a laugh and a sunny, "I've been through worse!" But you hadn't forgiven yourself.

Not for that. Not for anything.

Now, standing in front of the Agency's headquarters, you stared up at the unassuming building with its clean lines and welcoming signage. It looked normal. Safe, even. But it might as well have been the gates of another world.

"I still don't get why I'm here," you muttered, your voice low, more to yourself than anyone else. "It's not like my ability is... useful."

Yosano turned to you, expression unreadable but not unkind. "It's not always about how 'useful' someone is," she said. "You want to help people, don't you?"

You hesitated.

She continued, her tone matter-of-fact. "You didn't want to hurt anyone. That much is obvious. You turned down the Port Mafia, even when they offered you a place among people who wouldn't fear you."

She shrugged, as if the answer were simple.

"That's enough for us."

You looked away, uneasy. The idea that your intentions mattered more than your potential for destruction was foreign. Dangerous, even.

Yosano must've sensed your doubt.

"We've taken in all kinds of strays," she said, voice softer now. "Some of them far more dangerous than you. And as long as Dazai or I are around, you don't have to worry about hurting anyone."

Her words settled heavily in your chest—not quite comforting, but not dismissive either.

The others waited ahead on the steps. Kenji waved enthusiastically when he caught your eye, as if you hadn't nearly ended his life earlier.

And somehow, that made everything more terrifying.

But also… just a little less lonely.

The lobby of the Armed Detective Agency was brighter than you'd expected—sunlight spilled through the tall windows, warming the polished floors and walls lined with case files and bookshelves. It was… lived in. Comfortable.

Too comfortable, almost. You kept close to the door, your posture tense, hands locked at your sides.

Dazai stayed close.

Not that he said anything—not yet. But you could feel him there, hovering just behind your shoulder like a shadow. You suspected it wasn't entirely about his ability. He'd seen the way you flinched when Kenji fell limp, how your expression had cracked like splintered glass. Even with Yosano by your side now, you were clearly haunted by the memory.

Dazai, for all his irritating quirks and teasing smirks, didn't want to give you another reason to fear yourself.

A group of voices drifted in from the hall, and soon enough, you were no longer alone.

"Well, well," said a tall man with blond hair, eyes sharp behind his glasses. "So this is the new recruit."

You shifted uncomfortably, but the blond man's eyes flicked to you—more assessing than hostile.

"Kunikida," he introduced himself shortly. "Second-in-command here. I expect discipline and order from everyone under this roof. If you stay, I'll expect it from you, too."

You nodded stiffly, unsure what to say. He looked like the kind of man who wrote his life in neatly lined schedules.

"Don't mind him," another voice chimed in—light, sarcastic, and bordering on amused. A young man with messy red hair lounged in the doorway, flipping through a book without really reading it. "He's allergic to chaos."

"Tanizaki," he said, then motioned behind him as a quiet girl peeked in. "That's Naomi. My sister."

Naomi gave you a polite smile, though she stayed close to the wall.

And so it went—more introductions, more curious glances, none of them quite as afraid of you as you expected. If anything, they treated you like someone who had simply… arrived. Like you weren't a curse in human form.

Eventually, the room quieted when another presence entered—quiet, composed, and commanding. A man in a formal youkata, eyes calm and focused as they scanned the room. The others straightened slightly.

You knew at once this was the President.

"Fukuzawa-san," Dazai greeted with a lazy wave.

"Dazai," he said in return before his gaze shifted to you. There was no judgment in his expression. Just… understanding. And something else—acceptance.

"You're the one with the ability," he said gently. "The one they call Veil of Thorns, correct?"

Your breath caught. You hadn't heard the name of your ability spoken aloud like that in a long time.

You nodded, swallowing the tightness in your throat. "Yes, sir."

"I've read your file," he said. "And I've also heard about your choices. You could have taken an easier path—one with fewer rules. More bloodshed."

"I didn't want that," you said quietly.

"Which is exactly why you're here," he replied. "This agency doesn't just take in people because of their powers. We take them in for their principles. For who they choose to be."

You felt something shift—barely—but it was there. A sliver of warmth where cold had lived for too long.

Fukuzawa nodded once. "If you choose to stay, you'll have a place here. We'll teach you how to control your ability. How to work with others. How to live again."

You didn't trust your voice, so you only nodded. Slowly.

Dazai's presence lingered beside you. He didn't say anything, didn't tease. But when your hands trembled, he shifted just enough that his arm brushed yours, grounding you with that quiet, familiar pressure.

"I'll stick close," he said under his breath, just for you. "Not because I think you'll hurt anyone—but because I know how terrified you are of doing it."

You didn't reply.

But in that moment, you believed him.

And for the first time in years, the idea of staying didn't feel like a trap.

It felt like maybe—just maybe—the beginning of something you thought you'd never have again.

A life.

It didn't take long before you were officially inducted into the Armed Detective Agency. There was no grand ceremony—just a signature, a few papers, and a half-hearted "welcome" from Kunikida while Ranpo stole the last of the agency's cookies behind his back. It felt surreal, really. After years of solitude, you suddenly had a good job. A title. A place.

A home.

And apparently… a new apartment.

"Lucky you," Kenji beamed, swinging a box filled with your books effortlessly over one shoulder. "Your place is right next to Dazai-san's! That way he can keep you safe at all times!"

"Safe?" Dazai repeated from behind the box of potted plants he'd agreed to carry but now sat beside him on the sidewalk. "You mean emotionally tormented and psychologically confused. Honestly, those are the best ways to live."

You rolled your eyes as you passed him another box from the small delivery truck the Agency had helped arrange. "You said you were going to help carry things."

"I am helping. I'm supervising. And spiritually supporting you from the comfort of this very shady patch of sidewalk," he sighed dramatically, collapsing further against the building as if lifting a finger would cause his death.

Kenji giggled. "He said the same thing when I helped him move in."

"Exactly! Tradition is important, Kenji-kun!"

You tried not to smile—but it was hard around Kenji's cheer and Dazai's nonsense. The day was warm, the sky open, and for once, you weren't holding your breath for something to go wrong.

The apartment itself was… small. Sparse. But yours. Clean floors, neutral walls, a little balcony that overlooked a quiet street. And best (or worst?) of all: a thin wall separating your unit from Dazai's.

He wasted no time making himself at home in yours.

"I mean, clearly this is fate," he said casually, flopping onto your couch. "Your power kills with touch, my power nullifies all powers. It's like the universe wants us to be together forever. An eternal bond. Tragic. Romantic. Unavoidable."

You arched a brow. "You're insufferable."

"But touchable," he added, holding out his hand with a wink. "And that's rare in your case."

You ignored him and started unpacking a stack of mismatched dishes. He watched you for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly—not with suspicion, but something softer. Then, of course, he ruined it.

"Imagine," he sighed dreamily, "we could get matching coffins. Lay side-by-side under the cherry blossoms. Lovers in death. Poetic, no?"

You paused, turned to glare. "Is that your idea of flirting?"

"Only when it's with someone special."

Kenji poked his head in from the balcony, arms stretched over his head as he enjoyed the breeze. "Dazai-san flirts with everyone."

"Kenji-kun!" Dazai gasped. "That makes me sound disingenuous. I'll have you know, I only flirt with people who intrigue me. And people who might kill me. You, dear neighbor, happen to be both."

You couldn't stop the quiet laugh that slipped out, and Dazai's eyes flicked toward you, pleased.

Maybe it was reckless—being near him. He teased death like it was an old friend and wrapped sarcasm around him like armor. But for all his fatalism, Dazai didn't look at you with fear. Not once. He touched you without flinching, sat close without tension. You didn't have to be careful around him. You didn't have to apologize for existing.

"You're thinking too hard," he said, tipping his head at you. "That's dangerous. First it leads to hope. Then it leads to heartbreak. Then, inevitably—" He mimed a gun to his head. "Bang."

You gave him a flat look. "You're not very good at comforting people."

"I'm excellent at comforting people. I just do it in a way that makes them reconsider their entire existence."

You sighed and dropped onto the couch next to him—not close enough to touch, but closer than you'd ever let anyone else sit before.

He noticed.

No comment. No teasing.

Just a slight smile as he leaned back, arms folded behind his head, like he belonged there.

Maybe he did.

The soft hum of Yokohama at night drifted through the air—distant traffic, rustling leaves, the occasional bark or laughter echoing from streets far below. The city was winding down. But on your little balcony, tucked away just above the streetlights, it felt like time had slowed to a hush.

You sat shoulder to shoulder with Dazai, legs pulled up onto the chair, cradling a warm mug in your hands. He nursed a bottle of something questionable beside you, the label peeled halfway off, his other arm resting lazily along the back of your seat—close, but not quite touching. Not yet.

"I've been thinking," he said quietly, breaking the silence between you with a voice softer than usual. No dramatic inflection, no sharp grin. Just a murmur beneath the stars.

"That's dangerous," you replied without looking at him.

He chuckled. "Everything I do is dangerous. But…" He tilted his head to glance at you. "It's been a month since you joined the ADA."

You looked down at your mug.

"I know."

"I'm just wondering," he continued, "how you're doing. Really doing. You've never talked about your past."

You didn't answer right away. A breeze passed, brushing your hair across your face, and you tucked it behind your ear with a sigh. He didn't push. He never did when it came to this. For all the jokes and suicide pacts he tried to rope you into, he never forced you to speak.

Maybe that's why you finally did.

"I haven't… really talked about it ever before. Not properly." Your voice was barely above a whisper. "When my ability first appeared, I didn't even know what it was. I was a kid. Just a kid."

You swallowed, throat tight. Dazai didn't move, but you felt the tension ease from him—like he was giving you space and attention at the same time.

"It happened so fast. One minute I was hugging my dad good morning. And the next…" You trailed off. "He was on the floor. Convulsing. And I couldn't do anything. I didn't even know I had done it. Not until after."

You weren't crying. You thought maybe you would. But the tears had already come and gone, years ago, in the dark, when no one could hear them. Now there was just the ache. And the silence.

"I loved him so much," you whispered. "And after that… no one ever looked at me the same. Not the orphanage, not the teachers, not anyone. I learned to stay away. I had to."

A moment passed.

Then you felt it: the soft weight of his arm curling around your shoulders. Not hesitant, not pitying. Just there. Solid. Warm. Real.

You stiffened—reflexively—but he didn't draw back, didn't tense. Just let it happen. Gave you time.

And slowly, so slowly, you let your body lean sideways until your shoulder brushed his chest, until your weight rested slightly against him.

"I've been alone for so long," you admitted. "I think I forgot what it felt like to not be."

You felt his chin rest lightly atop your head.

"I know that feeling," he murmured. "All too well."

No lectures. No empty reassurances. No lies about how everything would be fine. Just his presence—like a promise unspoken. You could survive. You didn't have to do it alone.

Not anymore.

The city continued its quiet song beneath you, but you only listened to the steady beat of Dazai's breathing beside you. In a world that had taken so much from you… somehow, this had been given back.

And you clung to it like something sacred.

Masterlist

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collapsedsquid · 4 months ago

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The laser delousing was used in combination with a preventive method (snorkel cages) and after 54 days the researchers notes that “there was no difference in infestation density of mobile salmon louse stages (pre-adult, adult male or adult female) in cages with or without laser nodes installed”. By the end of the trial, they add, adult female lice numbers in all cages were close to the legislated trigger for mandatory delousing (0.5 adult female lice per fish). On the positive side, the lasers appeared to have no effect on salmon welfare indicators such as skin condition or eye status. The laser nodes delivered a large number of pulses relative to the number of lice in the cages, note the researchers, “indicating that a lack of lethality rather than a lack of target detection was the limiting factor. If all pulses had been effective, they should have removed between 4-38% of mobile lice each day.” Possible reasons for this highlighted by the researchers include “an imperfect detection system resulting in the targeting of non-louse objects… or because the laser pulse is not sufficient to remove a correctly targeted louse.”

Preconceptions shattered and heart broken.

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blackcat-star · 2 months ago

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Lost Spirit.

Sung Jinwoo x Ghost Reader

« Chapter 4 ✭Chapter 5: Shadow Associate.

______________________

The darkness beneath Jinwoo's feet spread, enveloping the space like a black mist. Energy surged out, surrounding you with a warm and strange feeling. You felt your body being pulled, as if there was an invisible thread holding you between two worlds – one part wanting to leave, the other part stuck.

Light flashed.

A strong force pulled you away from the old branch, from the quiet space you were familiar with. But instead of being freed, you felt like you were being torn in two.

Your blurry body began to flicker – half in the darkness, half still in its floating spirit form. Jinwoo frowned, concentrating harder, trying to channel more mana.

You tried to resist, but your body wouldn't obey. Your limbs trembled, your voice caught in your throat.

"Jin… Jinwoo…!" you called out, your weak scream fading into the darkness.

Jinwoo heard it. He looked up in shock, eyes widening as he realized the darkness surrounding you… was starting to crack.

"No…!" He quickly disconnected, pulling back his power, but it was too late.

A low boom echoed in the quiet space.

The darkness shattered like shattered glass. You were thrown away, landing on the grass with a soft "thud", despite not actually having a physical body.

Jinwoo immediately ran to your side. "Y/N!!"

You gasped, your vision blurring. Jinwoo caught you, but felt you fading – as if the attempt to extract had damaged the core of your soul.

"No… no. I can't handle that energy," you whispered, your voice hoarse.

Jinwoo clenched his fists, his hands shaking. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have forced you."

You forced a smile, reaching out to lightly touch his cheek - this time, your hand went through his skin, just like before.

The temporary connection from before… was gone.

"I can't touch you anymore," you smiled sadly, tears rolling down your face, "Just like before."

Jinwoo didn't say anything, just bowed his head low, his hair covering his eyes - but you knew, his eyes were filled with despair.

"I can't be your shadow soldier. I'm… different from them," you continued, your voice trembling.

A cold wind blew past.

Suddenly, a "ding" sounded in Jinwoo's head. A notification from the system.

[WARNING: INVALID OBJECT]

[The summoning process failed.]

[You cannot summon a /ERROR/ ]

[Warning: Potential for limit breaking.]

Jinwoo's expression changed after reading it. Jinwoo lowered his head, feeling helpless like a knife cutting into his chest. He thought that with his current power, he could do anything. But he couldn't help you - the person he loved the most.

You gently touched his hand. "At least, you gave me hope. That's enough."

Jinwoo didn't say anything. But his heart was in turmoil.

No, it couldn't end like this.

"No," Jinwoo whispered, his voice hoarse as if choked by the pain welling up in his chest. "It's not 'enough'...."

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms until blood oozed out. His dark eyes never left your transparent figure - the figure that was fading, dissolving in the wind like a dream that couldn’t be held.

A chilly wind swept through the park, gently shaking the dry trees behind. The fallen leaves rustled, but not a single one touched you - as if the world still rejected you, even though you desperately wanted to stay.

Suddenly - a small 'click' sounded in Jinwoo’s head. No one heard it but him.

[NOTICE: Shadow Core - Empty Slot Detected.]

[MANA CONDITION: Enough.]

[Opening Suggestion: Shadow Associate (Experimental).]

[You can attach this soul to your soul, making them your partner.]

[WARNING: This action may alter the path of the host soul.]

Jinwoo froze. Cold sweat soaked through the back of his neck. This was not a simple summoning - this was a soul link. An unbreakable bond, even deeper than a normal shadow soldier.

If you fail, your soul could be torn apart. Gone forever.

As long as there is a hope, he will try.

He looked up at you. "There is a way…but…if it goes wrong-" His voice trembled. "You could disappear completely. No longer a soul, nothing left. No longer liberated… no longer reborn."

You looked at him. There was still a faint light in his eyes - a light that had only existed for Jinwoo all this time.

"I believe in you."

Three words. Lighter than a breath. But enough to shake Jinwoo's entire world.

He fell silent, taking a deep breath. Then he brought his right hand to his chest, where Mana had long since become a part of his soul. His left hand reached out to you - trembling, as if afraid that if he touched you too hard, you would disappear.

"Shadow Associate..." He closed his eyes, gritting out each word. "...Activating."

Immediately, the system responded.

[MANA IS STABLE.]

[CONNECTION OPEN.]

A black-purple magic circle appeared beneath your feet. The ground shook slightly. The air froze into a hazy mist that surrounded your spirit body - like a soft cloak. Unlike the powerful, dominating darkness of the other shadow soldiers, the one embracing you is… as gentle as a lover's arms.

You feel your body - or rather, your soul - being pulled into a very warm, very familiar place.

A heartbeat sounds.

Thump.

Not from you.

From Jinwoo.

Your soul merges with the darkness, but it is not swallowed. On the contrary, it is cherished. As if Jinwoo's own energy is embracing you, protecting you - not like a master, but like a lover afraid of losing the last light.

The darkness wraps around you… then fades away. Revealing your form - no longer transparent, no longer blurry. But clear. Touchable.

You open your eyes.

Take a deep breath.

The wind stops.

[ATTACH SUCCESSFUL.]

[Subject Y/N has become: Shadow Associate – Special level.]

[Note: Retains consciousness, free will, and soul core.]

Jinwoo gasped, his hand still holding yours - this time, really holding. No more ghostly feeling, no more vague dreams.

You looked at him, slightly surprised. "I... feel... wind," you whispered, as if you couldn't believe it.

Your hand reached up, gently touching his cheek - warm. Real flesh. No longer a spirit hovering around the tree, chained by the strange rules of the afterlife.

Jinwoo watched you, his eyes never leaving your every little movement, as if if he let you go for even a moment, you would disappear again.

A brief silence passed - then a soft sound rang out in Jinwoo's head.

[System Update: Shadow Associate has successfully synchronized.]

[Note: The linked entity is no longer restricted by the old soul bond.]

[Free movement is possible, as long as it remains within Sung Jinwoo's host's range of influence.]

Jinwoo paused.

"…'Host's range of influence'?" he repeated, as if checking each word.

You tilted your head. "Does that mean… I still can't stray too far from you?"

He looked at you for a moment, his expression uncertain whether he was happy or sad. "No… not exactly," he whispered. "You're no longer bound to that tree. But you… will have to stay close to me."

A strange feeling spread through you - not like chains, but like… an invisible string tying your heart to someone. Not heavy, not painful. Just… warm. But it's also scary, because you've never allowed yourself to get so attached to someone before.

You take a step. Away from the tree, onto the small paved path in the park - and you don't fall back.

Another step.

You don't disappear.

You turn around, tears welling up in your eyes as you realize: you've left that place. For the first time in so long.

Jinwoo looks at you, his voice soft: "You can go... anywhere now. It's just, I'll always feel you. Like you're a part of my soul."

You pause, turning back to look at him. "What if... I want to leave you? Go somewhere alone?"

Jinwoo is silent for a long time. Then he says softly, "I won't stop you... if that's what you want. But I'll always feel that void. Because you're soul-linked to me."

His voice trembles at the last sentence. Maybe he himself does not fully understand his feelings at this moment.

You smiled, "It's okay. The important thing is that I can go everywhere now!"

You looked around, suddenly feeling light-headed, unable to help but smile. You hugged Jinwoo, "That's great!"

Jinwoo was stunned, his eyes wide. After a while, he also wrapped his arms around you, smiling, "Yeah, that's great."

________________________

To be continue. _________________________

Chapter 6 »

Lol thanks for reading this story guys 😭

I don't know what I am writing.

_____________________________________________

tag: @weaponxgames @sky2lar @snowy-violet @joannthebish @fackeraccount (let me know if I forget to tag anyone)

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo #sung jinwoo #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo x y/n #jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo sung

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mostlysignssomeportents · 8 months ago

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AI’s “human in the loop” isn’t

I'll be in TUCSON, AZ from November 8-10: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

AI's ability to make – or assist with – important decisions is fraught: on the one hand, AI can often classify things very well, at a speed and scale that outstrips the ability of any reasonably resourced group of humans. On the other hand, AI is sometimes very wrong, in ways that can be terribly harmful.

Bureaucracies and the AI pitchmen who hope to sell them algorithms are very excited about the cost-savings they could realize if algorithms could be turned loose on thorny, labor-intensive processes. Some of these are relatively low-stakes and make for an easy call: Brewster Kahle recently told me about the Internet Archive's project to scan a ton of journals on microfiche they bought as a library discard. It's pretty easy to have a high-res scanner auto-detect the positions of each page on the fiche and to run the text through OCR, but a human would still need to go through all those pages, marking the first and last page of each journal and identifying the table of contents and indexing it to the scanned pages. This is something AI apparently does very well, and instead of scrolling through endless pages, the Archive's human operator now just checks whether the first/last/index pages the AI identified are the right ones. A project that could have taken years is being tackled with never-seen swiftness.

The operator checking those fiche indices is something AI people like to call a "human in the loop" – a human operator who assesses each judgment made by the AI and overrides it should the AI have made a mistake. "Humans in the loop" present a tantalizing solution to algorithmic misfires, bias, and unexpected errors, and so "we'll put a human in the loop" is the cure-all response to any objection to putting an imperfect AI in charge of a high-stakes application.

But it's not just AIs that are imperfect. Humans are wildly imperfect, and one thing they turn out to be very bad at is supervising AIs. In a 2022 paper for Computer Law & Security Review, the mathematician and public policy expert Ben Green investigates the empirical limits on human oversight of algorithms:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3921216

Green situates public sector algorithms as the latest salvo in an age-old battle in public enforcement. Bureaucracies have two conflicting, irreconcilable imperatives: on the one hand, they want to be fair, and treat everyone the same. On the other hand, they want to exercise discretion, and take account of individual circumstances when administering justice. There's no way to do both of these things at the same time, obviously.

But algorithmic decision tools, overseen by humans, seem to hold out the possibility of doing the impossible and having both objective fairness and subjective discretion. Because it is grounded in computable mathematics, an algorithm is said to be "objective": given two equivalent reports of a parent who may be neglectful, the algorithm will make the same recommendation as to whether to take their children away. But because those recommendations are then reviewed by a human in the loop, there's a chance to take account of special circumstances that the algorithm missed. Finally, a cake that can be both had, and eaten!

For the paper, Green reviewed a long list of policies – local, national, and supra-national – for putting humans in the loop and found several common ways of mandating human oversight of AI.

First, policies specify that algorithms must have human oversight. Many jurisdictions set out long lists of decisions that must be reviewed by human beings, banning "fire and forget" systems that chug along in the background, blithely making consequential decisions without anyone ever reviewing them.

Second, policies specify that humans can exercise discretion when they override the AI. They aren't just there to catch instances in which the AI misinterprets a rule, but rather to apply human judgment to the rules' applications.

Next, policies require human oversight to be "meaningful" – to be more than a rubber stamp. For high-stakes decisions, a human has to do a thorough review of the AI's inputs and output before greenlighting it.

Finally, policies specify that humans can override the AI. This is key: we've all encountered instances in which "computer says no" and the hapless person operating the computer just shrugs their shoulders apologetically. Nothing I can do, sorry!

All of this sounds good, but unfortunately, it doesn't work. The question of how humans in the loop actually behave has been thoroughly studied, published in peer-reviewed, reputable journals, and replicated by other researchers. The measures for using humans to prevent algorithmic harms represent theories, and those theories are testable, and they have been tested, and they are wrong.

For example, people (including experts) are highly susceptible to "automation bias." They defer to automated systems, even when those systems produce outputs that conflict with their own expert experience and knowledge. A study of London cops found that they "overwhelmingly overestimated the credibility" of facial recognition and assessed its accuracy at 300% better than its actual performance.

Experts who are put in charge of overseeing an automated system get out of practice, because they no longer engage in the routine steps that lead up to the conclusion. Presented with conclusions, rather than problems to solve, experts lose the facility and familiarity with how all the factors that need to be weighed to produce a conclusion fit together. Far from being the easiest step of coming to a decision, reviewing the final step of that decision without doing the underlying work can be much harder to do reliably.

Worse: when algorithms are made "transparent" by presenting their chain of reasoning to expert reviewers, those reviewers become more deferential to the algorithm's conclusion, not less – after all, now the expert has to review not just one final conclusion, but several sub-conclusions.

Even worse: when humans do exercise discretion to override an algorithm, it's often to inject the very bias that the algorithm is there to prevent. Sure, the algorithm might give the same recommendation about two similar parents who are facing having their children taken away, but the judge who reviews the recommendations is more likely to override it for a white parent than for a Black one.

Humans in the loop experience "a diminished sense of control, responsibility, and moral agency." That means that they feel less able to override an algorithm – and they feel less morally culpable when they sit by and let the algorithm do its thing.

All of these effects are persistent even when people know about them, are trained to avoid them, and are given explicit instructions to do so. Remember, the whole reason to introduce AI is because of human imperfection. Designing an AI to correct human imperfection that only works when its human overseer is perfect produces predictably bad outcomes.

As Green writes, putting an AI in charge of a high-stakes decision, and using humans in the loop to prevent its harms, produces a "perverse effect": "alleviating scrutiny of government algorithms without actually addressing the underlying concerns." The human in the loop creates "a false sense of security" that sees algorithms deployed for high-stakes domains, and it shifts the responsibility for algorithmic failures to the human, creating what Dan Davies calls an "accountability sink":

https://profilebooks.com/work/the-unaccountability-machine/

The human in the loop is a false promise, a "salve that enables governments to obtain the benefits of algorithms without incurring the associated harms."

So why are we still talking about how AI is going to replace government and corporate bureaucracies, making decisions at machine speed, overseen by humans in the loop?

Well, what if the accountability sink is a feature and not a bug. What if governments, under enormous pressure to cut costs, figure out how to also cut corners, at the expense of people with very little social capital, and blame it all on human operators? The operators become, in the phrase of Madeleine Clare Elish, "moral crumple zones":

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

As Green writes:

The emphasis on human oversight as a protective mechanism allows governments and vendors to have it both ways: they can promote an algorithm by proclaiming how its capabilities exceed those of humans, while simultaneously defending the algorithm and those responsible for it from scrutiny by pointing to the security (supposedly) provided by human oversight.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/30/a-neck-in-a-noose/#is-also-a-human-in-the-loop

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en ==

#pluralistic #ai washing #empiricism washing #ai #humans in the loop #scholarship #ben green

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nasa · 2 years ago

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A simulated image of NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s future observations toward the center of our galaxy, spanning less than 1 percent of the total area of Roman’s Galactic Bulge Time-Domain Survey. The simulated stars were drawn from the Besançon Galactic Model.

Exploring the Changing Universe with the Roman Space Telescope

The view from your backyard might paint the universe as an unchanging realm, where only twinkling stars and nearby objects, like satellites and meteors, stray from the apparent constancy. But stargazing through NASA’s upcoming Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will offer a front row seat to a dazzling display of cosmic fireworks sparkling across the sky.

Roman will view extremely faint infrared light, which has longer wavelengths than our eyes can see. Two of the mission’s core observing programs will monitor specific patches of the sky. Stitching the results together like stop-motion animation will create movies that reveal changing objects and fleeting events that would otherwise be hidden from our view.

youtube

Watch this video to learn about time-domain astronomy and how time will be a key element in NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s galactic bulge survey. Credit: NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center

This type of science, called time-domain astronomy, is difficult for telescopes that have smaller views of space. Roman’s large field of view will help us see huge swaths of the universe. Instead of always looking at specific things and events astronomers have already identified, Roman will be able to repeatedly observe large areas of the sky to catch phenomena scientists can't predict. Then astronomers can find things no one knew were there!

One of Roman’s main surveys, the Galactic Bulge Time-Domain Survey, will monitor hundreds of millions of stars toward the center of our Milky Way galaxy. Astronomers will see many of the stars appear to flash or flicker over time.

youtube

This animation illustrates the concept of gravitational microlensing. When one star in the sky appears to pass nearly in front of another, the light rays of the background source star are bent due to the warped space-time around the foreground star. The closer star is then a virtual magnifying glass, amplifying the brightness of the background source star, so we refer to the foreground star as the lens star. If the lens star harbors a planetary system, then those planets can also act as lenses, each one producing a short change in the brightness of the source. Thus, we discover the presence of each exoplanet, and measure its mass and how far it is from its star. Credit: NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center Conceptual Image Lab

That can happen when something like a star or planet moves in front of a background star from our point of view. Because anything with mass warps the fabric of space-time, light from the distant star bends around the nearer object as it passes by. That makes the nearer object act as a natural magnifying glass, creating a temporary spike in the brightness of the background star’s light. That signal lets astronomers know there’s an intervening object, even if they can’t see it directly.

This artist’s concept shows the region of the Milky Way NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s Galactic Bulge Time-Domain Survey will cover – relatively uncharted territory when it comes to planet-finding. That’s important because the way planets form and evolve may be different depending on where in the galaxy they’re located. Our solar system is situated near the outskirts of the Milky Way, about halfway out on one of the galaxy’s spiral arms. A recent Kepler Space Telescope study showed that stars on the fringes of the Milky Way possess fewer of the most common planet types that have been detected so far. Roman will search in the opposite direction, toward the center of the galaxy, and could find differences in that galactic neighborhood, too.

Using this method, called microlensing, Roman will likely set a new record for the farthest-known exoplanet. That would offer a glimpse of a different galactic neighborhood that could be home to worlds quite unlike the more than 5,500 that are currently known. Roman’s microlensing observations will also find starless planets, black holes, neutron stars, and more!

youtube

This animation shows a planet crossing in front of, or transiting, its host star and the corresponding light curve astronomers would see. Using this technique, scientists anticipate NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope could find 100,000 new worlds. Credit: NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center/Chris Smith (USRA/GESTAR)

Stars Roman sees may also appear to flicker when a planet crosses in front of, or transits, its host star as it orbits. Roman could find 100,000 planets this way! Small icy objects that haunt the outskirts of our own solar system, known as Kuiper belt objects, may occasionally pass in front of faraway stars Roman sees, too. Astronomers will be able to see how much water the Kuiper belt objects have because the ice absorbs specific wavelengths of infrared light, providing a “fingerprint” of its presence. This will give us a window into our solar system’s early days.

This animation visualizes a type Ia supernova.

Roman’s High Latitude Time-Domain Survey will look beyond our galaxy to hunt for type Ia supernovas. These exploding stars originate from some binary star systems that contain at least one white dwarf – the small, hot core remnant of a Sun-like star. In some cases, the dwarf may siphon material from its companion. This triggers a runaway reaction that ultimately detonates the thief once it reaches a specific point where it has gained so much mass that it becomes unstable.

youtube

NASA’s upcoming Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will see thousands of exploding stars called supernovae across vast stretches of time and space. Using these observations, astronomers aim to shine a light on several cosmic mysteries, providing a window onto the universe’s distant past. Credit: NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center

Since these rare explosions each peak at a similar, known intrinsic brightness, astronomers can use them to determine how far away they are by simply measuring how bright they appear. Astronomers will use Roman to study the light of these supernovas to find out how quickly they appear to be moving away from us.

By comparing how fast they’re receding at different distances, scientists can trace cosmic expansion over time. This will help us understand whether and how dark energy – the unexplained pressure thought to speed up the universe’s expansion – has changed throughout the history of the universe.

NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will survey the same areas of the sky every few days. Researchers will mine this data to identify kilonovas – explosions that happen when two neutron stars or a neutron star and a black hole collide and merge. When these collisions happen, a fraction of the resulting debris is ejected as jets, which move near the speed of light. The remaining debris produces hot, glowing, neutron-rich clouds that forge heavy elements, like gold and platinum. Roman’s extensive data will help astronomers better identify how often these events occur, how much energy they give off, and how near or far they are.

And since this survey will repeatedly observe the same large vista of space, scientists will also see sporadic events like neutron stars colliding and stars being swept into black holes. Roman could even find new types of objects and events that astronomers have never seen before!

Learn more about the exciting science Roman will investigate on X and Facebook.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

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daydreams-after-dark · 1 year ago

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Free Use Jail Cell, Part 4

MDNI // 18+ content

full master list for additional installments

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: ?k (part 4)

Chapter Summary: Officer Jeongin takes you from your cell to do depraved things to you in the station shower.

Important Trigger Warnings ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Contains CNC, fear play, knife play, blood kink, piss kink (I’ve put the following emojis at the beginning and end of the part containing piss so you can skip if you prefer ‼️⚠️💦 ), oral sex, p in v sex, anal penetration with and object, use of color code safeword system, degradation, no aftercare.

😳😳😳😳

“Get up!” A stern voice penetrates your sleep and you yelp when you feel yourself being dragged by your hair.

“Ahh!” You cry out and open your eyes. You’re met with a sinister smirk and dark eyes. “Wakey wakey.” He hums as your eyes widen in terror. Officer Jeongin. Why does this young man look like a demon? Or a psychopath?

You swallow hard. Your mouth is so dry.

Then without a word, he drags you naked from your cell. “Where are we going? What are you going to do to me?” You squeal desperately, flapping your limbs around.

“You need to piss, and you need to wash that dried cum off you.” He replies matter of fact.

You’re dragged past the main station area where the desks are, and then past the interrogation room where you had been earlier. Your mind flicks back to Detective Minho and Officer Seungmin and your pussy clenches.

Officer Jeongin barges through a door at the end of the hall and pushes you inside. You fall to the floor, your naked body slamming hard against the cold tiles. You immediately curl into a ball. What the actual fuck is happening? What have you got yourself into?

You sneak a look up at the officer as he steps inside the room and pushes the door closed behind him. A thrill courses through you. A mix of terror and arousal. You know this is going to be sexual, forceful, degrading.

Officer Jeongin nods his head to towards the toilet behind you, and you scramble over to it and try to relax enough to relieve yourself, using the moment to look around the bathroom. A urinal on the opposite wall to where you’re seated, a porcelain sink to the left of it either a small mirror attached to the wall above it. To your left is a shower stall with a pale blue shower curtain.

Your eyes drift back to the officer who hasn’t taken his eyes off you. You cough uncomfortably and proceed to finish your business. Once you’re finished you wash your trembling hands at the sink, soaping them and rinsing them before looking up to meet your reflection in the dirty mirror. You’re really here. You’re really living out your ultimate fantasies. You’re really going to get fucked in a filthy bathroom by a deranged, hot, pretend police officer.

At that exact moment Officer Jeongin’s face appears in the reflection behind you. Your eyes widen in fear as he presses a knife against your neck and his body presses against yours. Your stomach is pushed against the cold porcelain of the sink uncomfortably. He has an erection. You can feel it against your back.

“Now listen to me very carefully.” He whispers against your ear, his menacing eyes locking on yours in in the mirror.

“You are going to do exactly as I say. You’re not going to fight me. You’re not going to scream. You’re going to let me do… everything. I. want.” He licks your ear causing goosebumps to form over your entire body.

“Got it?” He smiles brightly with a twinkle in his eye.

You swallow and nod.

“Good. Now get in the fucking shower. You smell too much like a cum slut.”

With the knife still pressed to your neck, Officer Jeongin turns you and pushes you into the shower stall, forcing you to your knees facing him while he flicks on the shower taps. You whimper as the cold water hits you, but you’re thankful that it warms up quickly. You watch as his hands reach for his belt buckle, undoing it and retrieving his cock. Your immediate thought is that he’s going to make you suck it.

“You’re such a filthy little thing… all that dried cum on you.” He clicks his tongue. “So I’m going to treat you like you deserve. Like a pathetic little whore.”

‼️⚠️💦 A stream of piss hits your chest, surprising you and making you flinch.

“Is this what you like, hmm? Like to be treated like filth?” He laughs manically as he continues to urinate on you.

You sob loudly as his urine hits your body and runs down between your breasts. It’s so utterly filthy. The entire scenario makes you feel pathetic. You shouldn’t want to feel this way. Why does it turn you on so much when it’s making you cry? Is it because it’s helping you forget - no, let go - of all the anxieties and emotions you keep inside? Is it because you have always wanted to be degraded in this way? Is it that you just don’t want to think, or do, anymore? ‼️⚠️💦

You’re not given much chance for introspection because Officer Jeongin is pulling you up to your feet as he steps inside the shower fully clothed, save for his cock out.

“Turn around. Against the wall.” He growls, manhandling you with ease. Your cheek is pressed hard into the tiles and the knife is back at your throat. You’re trapped with no way to escape. You whimper, an actual, real feeling of dread seeps through your body. What if he actually hurts you?

Using the arm he is holding the knife with, he holds your body in place with his forearm across your shoulder. His other hand slides the head of his cock up and down through your ass crack.

You close your eyes preparing for when he penetrates you, but voices at the door cause him to pause.

“Not a sound little mouse.” He whispers as the bathroom door opens and two men enter. They can’t see you due to the shower curtain, and as far as they know, it’s just an officer having a shower.

Officer Jeongin releases his cock and unclips something from his belt. A baton, you assume, when you feel cold metal slide through your folds. You eyes ping open and you try to stay as quiet as possible as he pushes the tip of the baton into your ass.

You’re shaking. You want to cry out, push him away, maybe use your safe word. But at the same you want to whimper and push your ass back onto it for more and have him make you take it.

“So I’m assuming Jeongin’s taken her somewhere for some fun.” It sounds like Changbin’s voice.

“Then it’s the Aussies, then we all get one more chance with her.” The second voice adds. It sounds like Officer Han and you want to call out to him. But you also… don’t want to. You’re confused as fuck right now.

Jeongin pushes the object a little further into your ass, and despite your fear and racing heart, your eyes roll back into your head. The stretch, fuck it feels good.

You almost let out a moan when he pulls the baton out slightly and then thrusts it back in harshly. You bite your lip drawing blood, and Jeongin leans in to lick it off. “Shh. Don��t fucking make a sound.” He whispers when the two officers start to laugh uncontrollably about something someone did at lunch.

You nod vigorously, making sure Jeongin knows you aren’t going to make a peep, then he starts to actually fuck you with the baton. You’re fully aware that the blade is so close to your skin that if you make a sudden move, or sound, you risk being cut. Officer Jeongin doesn’t seem the type to be fazed by a little violence or blood. The thought scares you, and you try to run your mind over which boxes you ticked on your application. Did you sign up for knifeplay? Blood kink? Fuck! You don’t even know!

The voices quieten as they eventually exit the bathroom. Leaving you alone with Jeongin.

“Time to tear you to shreds.” He sneers.

“Orange!” You cry out of nowhere, surprising yourself as well as Jeongin.

He lets go of you immediately, pulling the baton from you and turning you around. His entire demeanour shifts to concern and gentleness.

“Tell me what you need.” He says kindly.

You blink rapidly. You don’t even know why you even said it. He wasn’t hurting you. It felt good. But…

“I-I guess I just w-wanted to make sure you’d stop…if I need you to.” You stammer.

That’s it. You just need reassurance that if things went too far he’d honour your wishes. “You play your role so well…that…you seem like an actual psycho.”

He chuckles softly. “It’s okay, y/n. I don’t want to do anything against your will. And, look.” He flips the knife, grabbing it around the blade and squeezing a fist around it. “It’s not even real.” He grins.

How the fuck did you not notice? Upon closer inspection it’s obvious, but his acting made it feel so real.

You sigh, taking in the man in front of you. Drenched with his police uniform sticking to his body. “I want you to keep going.” You declare. “But for fucks sake take these soggy clothes off.”

He tilts his head and the deranged look is back. But this time you trust him entirely and you allow yourself to give in to both the fear and pleasure wholeheartedly.

Jeongin flips the knife again, holding the handle and pointing the tip of the faux blade to the little hollow at the base of your base of your neck. He licks his lips as he drags the knife down your chest, between your breasts, and down your stomach. Your breath hitches as the blade reaches your pubic bone.

“You know,” he whispers as he runs the blade edge between your folds. Your chest heaves, and your hands find purchase on the tiled wall behind you. “I have a real knife, if you want to play with that too?” He locks eyes on you.

“Yes.” You whimper.

“Yes, what?” He leans in and kisses your neck. Fuck! You’re so wet you can feel your slick between your thighs even with the shower still running.

“I want you to fuck me while you hold a real knife to me.” You cannot believe the words that just came out of your mouth. One minute you were frightened and now you’re asking for a real, actual knife - that actually cuts skin!

He looks at you long and hard. Then slips the fake knife in his belt. His fingers grasp another item, and as he pulls it out your eyes bulge. It looks shiny, so very sharp. So real.

“Undress me then get on your knees.” He demands and shuts the water off. You unbutton his shirt, pulling it from him quickly, as he slips off his belt and shoes. Then you remove his trousers as you drop to your knees.

He grips a fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other holds the knife close to your neck.

“Choke on it.” He instructs.

You open your mouth allowing him to thrust into your mouth. He’s rough with his motions, forcing you take all of him repeatedly. You’re starting to shiver from the cold now the water has been shut off, and your making the most obscene choking sounds as your throat is used in such a brutal way. He seems to get more aggressive as tears fall down your cheeks. You feel like a filthy slut. You feel dirty and used.

“You look like you were made to take cocks down your throat.” He pants. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you sucked the other officer’s dicks earlier. Ngh…such…a…slut.” He punctuates each word with a hard deep thrust. “Fuck! You’re gonna make me cum.” He hisses.

“Up. Face the wall. Hurry.” He manoeuvres you back into the position you were in earlier, with your tits pressed against the cold tiles and the side of your face smashed against the wall.

He kicks your legs apart and sinks himself into your sloppy, desperate cunt, and fucks you deep and hard without any moment to adjust. But you’re so wet that there’s no resistance.

He’s so long that he hits your cervix hard every single time making you cry out on each impact.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? A cock deep in your cunt. So many cocks have been in here today. I’ve never seen anything like it. Insatiable slut.”

He’s right. So many cocks have been inside you today. And you want more. You want to be fucked over and over by these men.

Jeongin starts to fuck you harder and the knife digs into your neck, cutting the skin slightly. You cry out, but it’s not in pain. It’s in pleasure and when he nicks you again you scream and come hard around the police officer’s cock.

Jeongin laughs manically while he continues to pound into you. “You’re so fucking sick. Coming like that because I made you bleed.” He whispers low against your ear.

He pulls out and you turn and slide your back down the wall, collapsing from the intensity of your release. You feel blood trickle down your skin.

Officer Jeongin hovers over you, and with his thumb swipes the blood from your body and takes it into his mouth. He’s just as sick as you.

He pumps his cock until thick ropes of cum splatter across your face and he growls in satisfaction at his work.

He leans down with one last instruction. “Stay here and count to fifty before you even think about moving.”

Then he’s gone, leaving you in an exhausted heap on the shower floor. You’re covered in cum, blood, tears and a satisfied fuck out feeling buzzing through your body.

…….

A/n: this honestly didn’t turn out as good as I wanted it to, but I really wanted to give you something. I am so sorry if it was a bit rushed, or not as dark as you were expecting. This type of smut is challenging for me to write.

>>> next up… the Aussies 🥰 (spoiler double pen one hole 🤭)

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#Skz smut #skz ot8 x reader #Jeongin smut #sorshas fic

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