#I was suffering in the naming process until I figured out what to call him

[damadorias]

new character just dropped 😱 !!!

This is Valen Rouge and he’s the owner of a nightclub/strip club that Chameleon frequents. He’s also sort of a surviving member of Zigzag’s species, surviving via the fact that he migrated to a different planet to start up his club business… and also take down the cosmic alliance and it’s tyrannical leaders! Yeah this bitch has anti-government shit going on in the backroom of his horny ass club bc I thought it was cool and funny him having some revolution shit going on in there. I haven’t really added much else about him so far but he’s cool. This is me getting more confident in mature themed characters bc I’m having strange creatures have two stories going on and having a story for once that’s more adult oriented’s making me more confident in making characters that are like, yknow, “this dude owns an adult club” vibey. Also it’s rlly fun drawing super fucking gay big men omg

[doumadono]

"I love you more than life itself" - Akaza x Reader

Warnings: demon!reader, mentions of dying Synopsis: in the aftermath of a fierce battle with a Hashira, Akaza finds himself teetering on the brink of death. As his final moments approach, he realizes that he must make a choice: does he embrace the afterlife with his beloved Koyuki, or does he cling to the hope of survival for the sake of his demoness? Requested by: anonymous

MASTERLIST

Akaza fought a fierce battle against one of the Hashiras, but unfortunately, he was fatally injured in the process. His once-powerful body now lay on the ground, weak and unable to move. He could feel the warmth of his life force leaving his body, and with it, his strength and power.

As he looked up into the brightening sky, he couldn't help but think about his life and all the choices he had made. As he felt his life force slipping away, he closed his eyes and whispered a heartfelt apology to his wife, who had been taken from him so many years ago. He had longed to join her in the afterlife for so long, and now it seemed as if his wish was finally coming true.

Akaza's memories were slowly returning as he lay dying. His mind drifted to the past, to a time when he was still human and had a wife named Koyuki. They were deeply in love and had promised each other to never leave each other's side. However, fate had other plans. He could feel her presence calling out to him, urging him to join her in the afterlife. Memories of their time together flooded his mind, the laughter they shared, the love they had for each other.

Suddenly, a figure appeared before him. It was Koyuki, his wife, dressed in a pink kimono with her black hair pinned in a bun.

"Koyuki," Akaza whispered, his voice cracking as he slowly raised his hand as if he was about to grab her palm. "Is that really you?"

Koyuki gave him a small, sad smile. "Yes, Hakuji. It's me."

Akaza's heart swelled with emotion as he took in the sight of her. Her beauty had not diminished since the day she died, and it only made him ache for her even more. Her words set his heart ablaze.

"I've missed you so much," Akaza whimpered, his voice shaking.

"I know, my love," Koyuki replied softly. "But it's time for you to let go. You've done enough. You can finally rest."

Akaza shook his head. "I can't leave, not yet… There's still something holding me back."

"What is it?" Koyuki asked, her eyes full of concern.

Akaza hesitated before finally admitting, "I… I've met someone else."

Koyuki's expression changed - there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. She knew that her husband had found someone else in the years that she had been gone, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. "Hakuji, my dear husband. I understand that you have found someone new, but you must remember our love. You promised me forever, and I believed you. I want you to be happy, but you can't ignore your past, our past."

Akaza hung his head, ashamed. He knew Koyuki was right. He had made a promise to her, a promise he intended to keep until the end of time. But you had made him feel alive again, something he hadn't felt in decades. "I'm sorry, Koyuki," Akaza uttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've let you down."

Koyuki nodded slowly, her eyes downcast. "I see. And what about me? Have you forgotten about me?"

Akaza's expression softened as he reached out to her. "Never. I could never forget about you, Koyuki. You were the love of my life."

Koyuki smiled sadly, her eyes brimming with tears. "Then why are you still holding on to someone else? It's time for you to let go, Hakuji. You've suffered enough." Koyuki stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "It's alright, my love. I forgive you." With that, Koyuki leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead, and Akaza felt a sense of peace wash over him.

However, just as he felt the embrace of his beloved, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him from beyond. It was you, the demon he had dated for decades, and a part of him hesitated. He had always felt a connection with you, a bond that transcended the differences in their species. But now, with the promise of reuniting with his wife before him, he was torn.

Akaza's senses were heightened as he tried to locate the source of the familiar voice he had just heard. He looked around, scanning the empty void that surrounded him. The air was thick with an eerie silence, and he could feel the weight of the emptiness pressing down on him. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of your voice, trying to drown out everything else. Akaza's eyes widened in surprise, his mind struggling to make sense of what was happening. "Y/N?" He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is that you, Y/N?"

The voice spoke again, clear and unmistakable. "Akaza, it's me. I'm here."

Akaza's heart raced with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he felt an overwhelming sense of joy at hearing yuour voice again after so long. On the other hand, he was torn between his love for Koyuki and the deep connection he shared with the demoness. Memories of their time together flooded Akaza's mind, reminding him of the passion and love you had shared. He remembered the way you had looked at him with such intensity, your eyes full of love and desire. He remembered the way you had touched him, the way your body had felt against his. Akaza's mind raced as he struggled to make a decision. Should he choose to join Koyuki in the afterlife, or should he continue to live with the demoness he loved?

Meantime, you were struggling to keep Akaza conscious, and you begged him to stay with you. "Please, don't leave me here alone. You can heal your body. You're a demon, you can recover from this," you pleaded, gripping his hand tightly, gently shaking his shoulder with your other hand.

Akaza's breathing was labored, his body trembling with the effort of staying alive. "I don't know if I can heal from this. It's too much, even for a demon," he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper as he was hung between life and death.

"But you have to try," you insisted, your voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose you, Akaza. I won't be able to live without you."

Akaza's eyes slowly closed as he drifted away into the unconsciousness again. His breathing became shallow and his body went limp. He knew that he was badly injured and that he might not make it through this. The pain was excruciating and his mind felt fuzzy.

Akaza's eyes fluttered open once more, and before him stood Koyuki again, her pink kimono billowing gently around her.

"Koyuki…" Akaza breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

She looked at him with a smile. "It's time, Hakuji. Time to let go of this life as a demon and join me. We can finally rest in peace, together."

Akaza's gaze drifted down to his battered and broken body, his wounds oozing blood. He knew that Koyuki was right, that his time as a demon was over. "But what about… her?" Akaza asked, his mind drifting to you again.

"She will find her own way," Koyuki replied gently. "You have done all that you could for her. Now it's time to focus on yourself."

Akaza's eyes widened as he looked at Koyuki, her image fading slightly before him. He took a step back, his voice cracking as he spoke. "I can't go with you, Koyuki," he uttered, his tone filled with sorrow. "I'm not ready to leave yet." Tears streamed down his face as he spoke, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "I know I've been gone for so long, and I'm sorry for that," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't leave now. Not when there's still so much left for me to do."

Koyuki's image flickered once more, a look of sadness on her face as she spoke. Hakuji, my love, it's time to let go. You've lived a long life, and you've fought so hard. It's time to rest now, my love."

Akaza shook his head, his body trembling as he spoke. "I can't leave yet," he repeated. "There is still someone who needs me. There are still battles to be fought."

As he spoke, Koyuki's image began to fade away completely, leaving Akaza alone once more. He fell to his knees, surrounded by the darkness, his body racked with sobs as he realized that he had made his decision. He would not go with Koyuki to the afterlife just yet. There was still too much left for him to do in this world.

You gasped in disbelief and joy as Akaza's body began to slowly heal. Tears streamed down your face as you watched him, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions you were feeling. You thanked the heavens above for bringing him back to you.

As Akaza regained consciousness, he looked around in confusion before his gaze finally settled on you. He attempted to speak, but his voice was weak and strained. You hurriedly assured him that he was going to be alright, petting his bare shoulder.

With tears still streaming down your face, you recounted to Akaza what had happened and how worried you had been. You told him that you were grateful he was still with you and that you couldn't imagine your life without him.

Akaza listened to your words quietly, his own eyes glistening with tears. He reached out to take your hand, his grip weak but reassuring. Akaza knew that he had given up on his past, his old way of life and beliefs. All of it seemed so insignificant now, in the face of the love that had pulled him back from the brink of death. It was a love so pure and true that he couldn't deny it, even if he wanted to. He had found something worth living for, someone worth fighting for. And in that moment, as he lay there healing, he knew that he would do whatever it takes to hold onto it. "I love you more than life itself."

[simpcityy]

Freedom at Last (Miguel O'Hara X Fem!Reader)

Summary: This is the final part of Where is my Freedom. You waited for your husband after sending the divorce papers ready for the chaos.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters.

Word Count: 3k

Warning: Use of (Y/N), abusive husband, physical and mental abuse, mention of fangs, near death experience, Guns, Robbery, harm being inflicted on, violence, angst if it counts, hot single dad Miguel, being called a wife.

Taglist: @alicefallsintotherabbithole

pt1 pt2 pt3

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It’s been days since you texted your lawyer about the decision you made. It’s also been days since you’ve seen Miguel. You knew he must be busy at work, how did you know this? Whenever you washed dishes at night, you would see him walking inside his house after picking Gabriella up from whoever watched her late whenever he stayed late at work. The more reasons you crush on him. A hard working and dedicated father he is. It did pain you from not being able to see him but first you had to fix your own marriage. Speaking of that, you received a notice from your lawyer as you walked out of the room from laying Rex down. All it read was ‘Tomorrow’. You didn’t know what to feel, excited or scared. Tomorrow the papers were going out to him. You quickly walked back into your toddler's room packing a baby bag. Tomorrow, you knew things were going down between you and your husband, it was better if Rex had a sleepover with your grandmother. Your grandmother has warned you many times about your husband. You wished you believed her when she felt something off about the man you were going to marry but now that was too late, you married him and are suffering the consequences. You were just thankful your grandmother stayed by your side and was ready to help with your boy. 

Hearing shuffling from your bedroom, you froze. Quickly hiding the baby bag, you stood up and pretended you just laid down Rex. Hearing the door open, your husband peaks his head in. “I’m heading out, I’ve been called for backup” He looks at you then to Rex, “Don’t get any ideas” He warns before quickly leaving going to his car, heading to the station. You walked over to the stairs watching the main window as he left in his car. “I won’t get ideas…not until tomorrow” You whisper to yourself before continuing to pack Rex’s clothes. 

Samuel, a police officer of Nueva York, sped quickly in his car. He gets out once he parked into the station moving into his police vehicle. He quickly unlocks it and gets in grabbing the radio. “What’s the location?” He calls before waiting patiently for a response. While he waited, you came into his mind. Something felt off with you. He’s been your husband for 5 years now and he knows. He knows you were planning something but what!? It pissed him off that he wasn’t a step ahead of you. He looks at the police computer, he slowly types in Miguel’s name but before he can press the enter, the radio brings his attention. Once he heard the location, he turned on the sirens and headlights heading to the area. 

Miguel in his suit watched as officers struggled to contain a bank robbery. He rolled his eyes before retracting his talons out climbing into the window to the ceiling watching the masked robbers hold hostage a couple of workers who stayed late while others were collecting the money into bags. He climbs down slowly behind one holding an armed gun, before webbing out to pull the gun out their hands kicking them in the stomach in the process. The grunt of the robber caught the attention of the others. 

a few minutes later, Samuel quickly walks inside the bank with his gun along with others before slowly putting it down seeing the robbers tied all together and beaten up badly. He frowns knowing who’s work of art this is. “Damn You!” He growls before seeing a figure climb out through the window. ‘Spider-man’ He thought before walking out letting his peers assess the mess. He climbed up the fire escape ladder. He reaches up to the roof and frowns glaring at the figure. “Stay right there Spider-Man!” He yells. Miguel stops himself before he could jump off the roof. He rolls his eyes, turning around expecting a usual police officer who hated his guts for being a hero. He stopped once he saw who he was face to face with. All Miguel saw was red, “Mira esto*, a bastard right in front of me.” He webs Samuel’s gun across the roof and walks over to him, towering over the man. “All I see in front of me is a coward, un cobarde*!” Miguel yells in anger. Seeing Samuel reminded him back when you broke down on the first day he met you, hearing how tired you are from everything. Samuel backs up a bit but only to feel the brick wall of another building connect to this one. “You call yourself a hero and here you are threatening a police officer!”He yells at Spider-man but deep down he wanted to yell for backup but didn’t want to pleasure the hero, keeping his ground. Miguel shakes his head trying to find the right words without putting you on the spot. “ You don’t deserve that badge.” Miguel looks at him before retracting his talons, ripping the badge off Samuel’s uniform. Samuel watches in horror as the hero bends his badge with ease. Miguel smirks “Asustado*?” He drops the badge on the ground making Samuel flinch at the noise. Miguel knew that was enough but he couldn’t hold back the rage he had for this man. He, himself grew up with an abusive step-father who hurted his mother. It reminded him of that and only fuelled him more to scare Samuel. He lets his mask show his mouth. Samuel watches in horror seeing the large fangs, “What…what are you!” He whispers as Miguel gets closer before stopping hearing someone else climb up the ladder. He quickly jumps off the roof, slinging off to safety. Samuel only watches before picking up his bent badge. For once, he would rather stay at the station than be out on the streets with a Spider-Man out there. 

Samuel had trouble falling asleep. All he could think was the sharp fangs that were about to come into contact with him. He could see them up close before the imagine blurs away. He sits up gasping loudly holding his neck. “Damn,” He whispers, looking at the time on his phone. He decided to go on with his morning with coffee hoping it would keep him up and the nightmares away. He looks over to your side only to see a note, he frowns, grabbing it quickly before relaxing reading it. “Visiting that old woman” He mutters hating on your grandmother for never accepting him. He walked out going to the kitchen making himself his coffee, he glances up to the kitchen window seeing his neighbor, oh the neighbor he hates. Miguel O’Hara. He frowns watching him place his daughter in the car for school. He walks out of the house once he was dressed in his uniform, his badge missing as he requested a new one thanks to yesterday's events. He unlocks the car, setting his coffee on top before looking behind him hearing the gruff voice of the neighbor he hates with all his guts. “Buenos días*.” Miguel calls out to Samuel trying to contain the smirk from appearing on his face. Samuel only grunted before getting in the car before stopping to hear Miguel once again. “What happened to your badge? Qué lástima que se rompió” He finally lets the smirk on his face as he gets in his car taking Gabriella to school. Samuel only watches him leave trying to figure out what he said in Spanish. He should’ve taken those classes seriously; he knew Miguel was taunting him. Driving to work, his mood got worse and worse as traffic was holding him up. Once he got to the station, he turned off his car. He moves the rear mirror to himself and frowns seeing how he was a mess and his badge missing, he growls hitting the steering wheel over and over in anger. “Dammit!” He yells in the car. “My wife is planning something! That bastard neighbor is planning something! Everyone is looking down on me!” He yells to himself before calming down. “I need to get ahead of them” He mutters once again to himself before getting out of the car walking inside the station. Everyone looked at him as he walked by whispering. ‘What the hell are they looking at’ he thinks before walking to his desk, stopping to see a folder. He grabs it slowly seeing his name on it before dropping it once he sees what was inside. Divorce papers. 

You walked inside the empty house as you dropped off Rex, you explained to your grandmother what the plan was for today and she wished you luck. You accepted knowing you’ll be needing it with your husband. It was time, you received the text from your lawyer in the morning how they dropped the papers off. All you had to do was wait for the bomb to come home, your husband. You looked at your home, you knew he was going to have an outburst. You already packed a suitcase to live with your grandmother knowing no way in hell he would leave the house to you. You walked to your car, suitcase in hand. As you loaded it in the trunk of the car you heard Miguel’s car park onto the street. Looking back, you saw Miguel confused as he looked at your suitcase. “Going on a trip?” He asked walking out og his car and headed to you. You only shake your head, “No, I…I sent divorce papers to my husband. I’m getting ready to be kicked out." "Oh? Dios mío, en serio*? You’re not joking right?” He quickly helps you put in the heavy suitcase in the trunk. “No, I had enough of this, you…you helped me figure out the key to my freedom.” You only watched as Miguel stayed silent, conflicted for your safety. ‘You were the key’ you think to yourself, scared to tell him that out loud. “That’s amazing but won’t he hurt you?” He asked as you sigh, “Maybe…but…It can help me in this case but…we’ll have to see. He’s a smart man.” You close the trunk as Miguel wanted to scoff, ‘Smart, yeah right’ He thinks as he remembers how Samuel almost pissed his pants yesterday. “If anything happens, Estoy aquí para ti*.” He smiles, you got to see a smile, not a small one but one that was warm. You nodded, not trusting yourself to reply back. 

Miguel sat in his room, conflicted. He knew you could do this, but he just had a bad feeling. He looks at the drawer that holds his suit. Should he go to you the moment you start yelling for help in his spider-man suit or go as Miguel O’Hara, your neighbor. He looks up hearing the screech of wheels stopping abruptly. Looking over to his window pulling the blinds down a bit. He watched as your husband walked out of the car, slamming the door shut. He cringed at the loud noise. It was now or never, he needed to decide. 

You were upstairs in your room grabbing whatever was needed to bring home with your grandmother only to hear the screech of wheels and the slam of her door being opened. “(Y/N)! Where are you!” Your husband yells as heavy footsteps creak the stairs, he’s coming up. You quickly stood up and grabbed the lamp from the nightstand. “There you are!” He kicked the door open and saw the suitcase you were packing. “You had this planned, didn’t you?!” He seethes, “You sent my papers to my job where everyone saw! They pity me! They looked down on me!” He yells kicking the bed. You were scared, he never had this much anger before. Maybe today was a bad day to deliver the papers. You did notice he came home tense last night after the emergency back up call. You were dead, that was all you could think. He looks at you and rips the lamp out of your hand grabbing your shoulders “Answer me dammit!” You only cry out scared. “I bet you’re going to run off with that neighbor of yours! Were you!” You only shook your head no. “Lies! I know my own wife!” He pushes you down the bed, his hands on your wrists. “I gave you everything and you are only tossing it away for your selfish needs!” He looks down at you, “I want you to cancel the divorce, tell them you change your mind.” “No!” You yelled finally having courage, “I am done living this fantasy life! Rex deserves better, I deserve better!” You yell back at him. He only shakes in anger “Fine then…maybe that Spider was right, I won’t be deserving of that badge after I do this.” He moved his hands over to your neck. Your eyes widen as you try to scratch his face and kick him away. “I know you’re doing this for that stupid Neighbor so no one else will have the satisfaction of a win!” You only grunt and gasp for air. Your mind wanders off to your grandmother, your son, then to Miguel and his daughter. You could only whisper out one word, “Sorry” Sorry for failing all of you, after you rooted me to the end. Seeing black dots in your vision, you were ready to wish a I love you to your son before catching someone’s fist in Samuels’ face. 

Miguel slammed his fist into Samuel’s face. He ditched the suit; he knew you needed him and not some masked hero. “Déjala en paz*! Are you okay?” He quickly turned his attention to you as you cough, breathing heavily and nodding. He looks back seeing Samuel stumble before getting up, wiping the blood off his nose. Miguel held your arm pulling you behind him. Samuel frowns “Everything was fine till you moved in.” He stumbles towards him as Miguel only stood his ground making sure you were staying behind. You only watched in horror as your husband got closer, you worried for Migue’s safety. Miguel shook his head “No, nothing was fine, and I moved in at the perfect time to guide (Y/N) and Rex to the right path” He looked back at you for a bit “I was her key to freedom.” Samuel pulls out a gun from the nightstand and aims at him. “No! Samuel think this through!” You go to stand in front of Miguel, but he makes sure to keep you behind. Miguel only watches Samuel, “Go on, do it cobarde*” He stares at him. Samuel looks at him repeating the word, it sounded similar to last night. His eyes wide, “You’re Spi-” He gets cut off as a team of officers run into the room “Put the gun down!” They yell at him. 

You look as they assess Samuel on to the ground handcuffing him. You wonder which neighbor had the guts to call the police only to feel a hand on your shoulder.” Fui yo, I called them” Miguel looks at you. “The police finished questioning me, how are you holding?” You only smile “Holding on alright…I need to see my boy and let him know we are finally free.” You watched as they took Samuel away. You finally feel the shackle around your neck break. “I’m glad.” He whispers before staying quiet pondering if he should go. “Go, I know Gabriella is waiting for you from her friend's place.” You look at him before grabbing his hand “And…thank you” You whisper. He nods “De nada*” He gives you a closed smile before running to his car to pick his daughter up. You sigh as the officers walk over to you, ready to question you next. You were tired but it was worth it. 

It’s been a month since Samuel was arrested, and you were granted everything. Even the house after Samuels’ stunt. You smile as your toddler happily watches your grandmother read him a book. “It’s almost time, put the movie on!” You gasp looking at the time. You walked to the door waiting for someone to knock. While you waited, you looked around the house, the warmth…the feeling you missed ever since Samuel’s behavior changed. A doorbell disrupted your thoughts, you made sure to fix your shirt before opening the door. “We’re here!” Gabriella hugged your waist the moment the door opened. You smile patting her head “I can see that, go get yourself the best seat before they’re taken.” You chuckle as Gabriella nodded running inside. You smile watching her happily greet your grandmother and Rex. You look back to the open door only to be greeted by flowers. “Flores para la mujer más bella, for you.” Miguel smiles holding up a bouquet of flowers. You take the flowers thanking him before letting him in. You quickly walked to the kitchen to put them in a vase. “They are beautiful, thank you!” He followed you inside to the kitchen. “Ready for movie night?” He helps you out. You smile “Yes, I know Rex and Gabriella are happy to spend time together.” You put the flowers on the table admiring them. Miguel slowly wrapped his arm around your waist holding you close. “Gabriella is just good with kids and Rex is a very bubbly baby.” He leans into you closer, his lips near yours. You both slowly lean in more but pull back hearing your grandmother, “Hurry you two, you know I don’t deal with impatient children!” You only chuckle as your grandmother ruined the moment. “Let’s go, I know your grandmother is this close to hitting us with her chancla*” Miguel pulled you to the living room. You only smile, happy to finally have the freedom you crave. 

Freedom at last

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Authors Notes: Thank you everyone for the likes and reblogs! It helps me so much to motivate me to write future Fics or small one-shots. As always, sorry for any grammar mistakes. You are all welcome to send in request since I only had that plot in mind. Maybe soon, I'll get another idea. Stay hydrated and keep on simping! (Simp City Population:11) *Thank you for the follows!*

Spanish Translation: (Remember some have double meaning or similar meaning in English but way different in Spanish.) 1. Mira Esto: Look at that or look at this 2. Cobarde: Coward 3. Asustado: Scared 4. Buenos días: Good Morning 5. Qué lástima que se rompió: Such a shame it broke 6. Dios mío, en serio: Oh My god (Oh my), you serious or seriously? 7. Estoy aquí para ti: I am here for you 8. Déjala en paz: Leave her alone 9. Fui Yo: It was me or I did 10. De Nada: Your welcome 11. Flores para la mujer más bella: Flowers for the most beautiful (Prettiest) woman. 12. Chancla: Sandal, shoe

[g-n-c-quoi]

oh yeah this was supposed to be an art blog. so, with @sparkbirdmusic returning to tumblr it feels only appropriate to put this here- my entry for the art contest surrounding their upcoming single mayday!, which i have only heard in bits and pieces and have already been blown away by

there is like, a very esoteric and poetic inspiration for this drawing beyond just the song itself, but if i’m being honest with myself the explanation of that would just be incomprehensible rambling, so i’m gonna put it under the cut so y’all can just appreciate the art and witness my nonsense at your own discretion

those who know me will be no doubt familiar with my fascination with symbolic language and imagery in art, especially my tendency toward the more macabre instances of it. i cannot help but find myself represented in expressions of the horror of the flesh, of having a human body, a body that cannot be saved from its own mortality. i spend what some would call an unsettling or unhealthy amount of time preoccupied with the ideas of suffering and death, and those concepts are, as a result, very present in my art.

for this piece in particular, i found myself very interested in the concept of martyrdom. lyrically, “mayday!” evokes the image of perhaps a pirate, a spy, a rogue, some adventurer going out in a blaze of glory, making a legend of their own demise:

the captain lives by the sword

and the captain loves by the sword

when the captain dies by the sword

he’ll leave you trapped in the cockpit

crying out “mayday!”

the instrumentation only serves to solidify this, with bold, sweeping orchestration and thunderous percussion building the tension of each and every line until the last gasp of the chorus. (i wax poetic about sparkbird’s music often. be grateful i haven’t yet made a habit of it on this blog.)

while i’m drawing, i often have a youtube video playing as background noise, and for much of the process of this piece, i was absently listening to a video essay by final girl studios (who i highly recommend looking into, if you’re unfamiliar) entitled “beautiful dead girls: the romanticized death of the teenage girl”. in it, she describes a platonic ideal of femininity, an archetype that we see in no small number of stories about young women: a white, frail, suffering girl, often no older than 25, whose despair is commodified for the sake of art until we no longer recognize her as human, instead choosing to interpret her as some vague “other”, alienated from all personification so that we feel no guilt or grief when she dies, because how else could her story have ended?

one such tale mentioned in the video that particularly struck a chord with me was ophelia of shakespeare’s hamlet. ophelia in particular is an especially damning example of this, because when you read her name just now, was it not her death in your mind’s eye? the picture millais paints, both literally and figuratively, is a very pretty one, but it serves only to emphasize that she is gone. in love, then heartbroken, then mad, then gone.

the tragedy of the martyr, i think, is not simply that they are dead- it is that that is all they are, and all that they must be. the sympathy, the admiration, the idolization, these are all afforded in death and death alone. why do we make legends of the ones who are lost, if only to forget the ones they leave behind who are still lucky enough to be breathing?

the sword in this painting is a gravestone, left behind in the water like ophelia. the captain is dead, but there is no glory in his demise. all that remains of him is his sword, his memory, and the despair and destruction in his wake- “trapped in the cockpit, crying out mayday!”

of course, this connection is likely just a coincidence between the drawing, the song, and the video. but it did create one of my favorite drawings i’ve made in a long time, so i suppose it can’t be all nonsense.

[deityoftherain]

you're not tango, are you? - Treebark during Secret Life Session Six Fanfic

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Gen, M/M

Achieve Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 1,187

Summary: Ren(go) retreats to a cave during Secret Life Session 6's break, but Martyn follows after him, finding something about him familiar...

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

Ren ducked into a lit-up cave that some other Player must have used for mining at some point as soon as the mid-day break was called on their communicators. He was grateful for the break because he knew he could only run around like he was for so long without taking a breather. The Watchers may grant them increased endurance, stamina, and resistance to pain, but that only went so far in the grand scheme of things. Ren put his hands on his bent knees, letting his head hang as he processed everything that has happened in the session so far. 

Secret Life wasn’t like the previous Life Games he’s gone through before, and he was way out of practice. The last game the Watchers forced him through was Double Life, and then They went ahead and switched Ren out with Tango on Session Six! At this point, there was so much information “Tango” was supposed to know that Rengo didn’t! Imitating the blazeborn was difficult, but he must be doing decently, right?

He had to be, he reassured himself. If They found out he failed, who knows what They would do next? They said They would hurt Martyn if he didn’t comply, that They would hurt his friends… hurt them more than they already are hurting. Ren feared They may cause permanent damage to their code, if not figure out some way to destroy them completely. It was a lose-lose situation, one where he had to choose the lesser of the two evils.

It took everything in his power not to run to Martyn and kiss him, hold him tight enough to hopefully never lose him again. Void, did he want to, but Ren didn’t think Martyn nor Tango would appreciate Rengo making moves unexpectedly. Ren just had to wait for the Watchers to get Their fill and reunite them once more, reunite them until the Watchers needed to feed off of their pain and suffering again…

Suddenly, someone called his name, Tango’s name, causing Ren to almost jump out of his skin. He hadn’t expected anyone to follow him in here! He spun to face the voice, his body tense as his heart beat harshly in his chest. “Oh my goodness gracious, dude! You’re givin’ me heart palpitations!”

“Ah, sorry, mate,” Martyn stopped approaching, putting his hands up by his head to show Rengo that he didn’t mean any harm. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to have a bit of a chinwag with you, that alright?”

Ren cleared his throat, attempting to prepare his vocal cords to speak at a higher pitch than he normally did on his own. He pushed up his– Tango’s sunglasses. Thankfully, Tango decided to wear sunglasses this time around. Ren wasn’t used to going without them. “Yeah, sure, no biggie. Sit down?” Martyn nodded his agreement to the offer, but he didn’t sit or stand beside Rengo, which Ren couldn’t help but be disappointed by it. It made sense for Martyn to want to keep distance and stay across from Tango– they were a part of different factions, after all– but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, even if just a little bit. Martyn never actually sat down, but he leaned against the parallel wall, so Ren copied him. 

They stared at each other in silence for several moments, Ren enamored by his lover who couldn’t remember him and Martyn studying Rengo’s features. The Watchers had decided to give Martyn hybridity this time around to accord with The Big Dogs branding.

Ren couldn’t help but wonder if They did that on purpose, knowing that Ren would see Martyn with features like his. Did They know that They would need to switch Tango out with Ren for a session? Did They predict that Tango’s code would suffer from the stress and need tending to? Did They do this to mess with him?

"Hey,” Martyn started, hesitant. He rested his curved pointer finger against his chin, resisting the urge to bite the knuckle. Ren knew that look well. He often bit his finger like that when he was trying to work something out. “I don't want to sound like a stalker, but I think I know you. Like, know you, from whatever our lives are like away from this game.”

Ren sucked in his lips briefly before shaking his head, letting his gaze fall. “I know just as much as you do, dude. I don’t remembericate much. Bits and pieces of my past, sure, but nothing concrete.”

“You’re lying,” Martyn stated confidently, Red Life eyes narrowed into slits. There was no question in his tone, but Martyn has always been fairly good at identifying lies and pretending that he wasn’t just as scared as everyone else. His detection skills were nowhere near perfect, but Ren couldn’t claim to be a decent bluffer. “You’re not Tango, are you?"

“Not Tango?” Ren sputtered, waving his hands out in front of it. “Don’t be crazy bonkers, Martyn. Who else would I be?”

“For someone claiming to be Tango, you sure don’t sound like him.” Martyn pulled out his sword, casually adjusting and then readjusting his grip on it as if the movement wasn’t meant to be a passive threat. “Do you want to tell me the truth or do I need to drop another anvil on your head?”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” Ren reminded him, slowly slinking toward the mouth of the cave. His heart ached like a dagger was stabbed through his chest. Having Martyn look at him with such a whirlpool of mixed emotions was almost enough to break Ren, make him throw all caution to the wind. All he wanted to do was hold him close like they did on quiet nights back at Dogwarts, but that wasn’t his right as Tango.

Martyn pursed his lips before sheathing his sword once more, the strong persona he put on faltering. “You’re lucky I can’t bring myself to kill you right now– plus, it’s against the rules– but if I see the opportunity to take hearts from you once the session starts again, I will take it, so watch your back.”

Stay near Love Island or teammates, got it. Ren gulped as he tried to formulate a response. He was saved by a sound pinging on both of their communicators, announcing that the session was starting soon. He hated that he was relieved to get away from the man he loved way too fiercely. “I’m gonna go findificate Skizz and BigB. See ya!”

With that, Ren darted out of the cave, running as fast as Tango’s lithe body would allow him. Ren was used to having longer legs, but Tango’s shorter, smaller frame meant there was less weight he was having to carry. He would be curious to race Tango some other time and see who was truly faster.

While Ren refused to turn back, refused to look Martyn in the eyes after fleeing like a coward, he could feel Martyn stare hopelessly after him. We’ll reunite properly one day, me hand. I promise.

[transtalesofdoom]

The Egg Years and being Cis-Adjacent

I originally made this blog to talk about my new and exciting trans experience, so let's go do that. Long post, obviously and I just figured out how to do the Keep Reading thing

I didn't have any inherent dysphoria growing up, I was just a bit of a not-like-other-girls tomboy. Jeans were comfier than dresses, boobs and bras were sooo inconvenient, make up just meant more effort. Books and video games were more fun than going out to party. I wasn't good at dancing anyway. And don't even get me started on shaving your legs.

It became obvious to me that I wasn't strictly cis pretty much as soon as I learned that gender wasn't binary. It was common sense, really. If gender is a spectrum, very few people would actually find themselves on the very end of either side. So most people were just close enough to either end of the spectrum to consider themselves cis. Including myself.

As my understanding of gender grew, it became more and more ridiculous to assume anyone was 100% cis. There's always some criterion you don't fully meet. Of course, people could still use and identify with the label of cis, clearly there was some sort of leeway. But calling myself cis started to feel wrong. It felt like I was ignoring the very nature of gender as a vast spectrum by picking a label rooted in the binary. I was cis, but in a queer way. I started calling myself cis-adjacent when talking to other queer people.

I never had a "problem" with my assigned gender at birth, outside of the patriarchy and sexism and periods, but those weren't trans reasons to resent being a woman. Being a woman suited me well enough. I wouldn't have cared if I wasn't, if I woke up one day without boobs, I'd just go on and fit into shirts much more easily. I considered "gender-apathetic" as a label, but ultimately it felt like too much hassle for something I was indifferent about.

Really, that was what it came down to. I was close enough to being cis, I didn't have any internal problems with calling myself a woman or living as one. Sure, there probably was something more accurate for me out there, but I knew about the struggles trans people faced. A good friend of mine had come out as trans and started his transition. I was happy for him, but I also got to see the difficulties it brought to update paperwork and book appointments and constantly emailing professors about your new name and pronouns. Not to mention the whole coming out to family thing. Or transphobia. There wasn't enough suffering in me to submit myself to this much effort and misery. Or force everyone in my life to learn a new set of pronouns and name for me, irrevocably changing every single relationship I had in the process. I didn't even want to be a man anyway. Just look a little more like one.

And I could easily present pretty masculine without transitioning. I only wore pants anyway. And hoodies were super comfy. I cut my hair short more than once. I considered buying a binder, just to see what that would do for me, but every time I tried looking into it, I just got overwhelmed and, like I said, there wasn't enough suffering to justify spending 50 bucks and at least one extensive research session on it. Ironically enough, during my last year as cis-adjacent, I finally reconnected with a part of my femininity and wore dresses to special occasions again.

However, a new problem had found my body: The unstoppable passage of time. I wasn't a perky teenager anymore. My body gained weight, my boobs succumbed to gravity, and I had very little in common with what was considered a beautiful woman. Even a beautiful butch woman didn't look like me. No one beautiful looked like me, really. I told myself that I had a lot of internalized misogyny and fatphobia to unlearn. That the reason I started disliking my reflection was social conditioning. I was right about that, of course. But there was more to it that I, in my self-righteous blaming of society, didn't acknowledge.

Until the last full moon night of 2023, when my mirror reflected a ghost back at me.

[adoremexxs]

pairing: stalker! urogi x reader pt. 2

i’m sorry it is not that good, i struggled 😔

warnings: kidnapping 🤯, swear words duh, gaslighting, reader suffering from stockholm syndrome, choking, basically living with him

He was in your house.

That’s what you thought obviously because you figured out that he was breaking into your house and stealing your belongings.

You were quite literally paralyzed with fear. You had no idea what to do.

Your door was locked, maybe he wouldn’t come in. Or would he?

You just curled up in a ball and acted like you were sleeping. How could the bubbly gym rat be some stalker? He’s way too hot to be some weird stalker, right? Right? Right.

The sound of footsteps coming down from your attic and to your room scared the shit out of you. Of course you are going to be scared because there is an intruder in your house!

The jiggling of the door knob made you sigh in relief. He couldn’t get in. Your relief was soon over once you heard your door quietly swing open.

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut and just acted like you were sleeping, praying that he left you alone.

He didn’t.

Why would he want to leave you alone?

Urogi is obsessed with you and no one can have you but him. You are only his to have fun with. He just ran his fingers through your hair and smiled. He couldn’t wait to just have you in his bed. You clinging onto him and whimpering his name out…Oh, he couldn’t wait.

Obviously you start to panic when you feel a cloth slip over your mouth and you immediately start to feel woozy. You tried to fight back but you passed out before you could.

Urogi had taken you to his place. He was so excited to finally start a little family with you. He had you tied to a chair down in his basement. He had stripped you of your clothes and put you in an oversized t-shirt of his. He was resisting the urge to kiss you and hug you right now.

But for now, he waits for you to wake up.

It didn’t take you long to wake up after being tied down. You looked around, your head still spinning as you tried to process where the fuck you were. Until you saw him.

“Urogi. What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Do?” You snarled out, glaring at him which made him pout and lose the smile on his face.

“(Y/N), my little dove, I was just making sure you were safe and sound!”

“By kidnapping me and locking me up in your basement? Are you fucking INSANE?”

“Yes. Only insane for you though. You’ve made me feel an emotion better than pure joy! It feels so much better than that! And I need you around so I can keep feeling that emotion! Please date me!”

“NO! WHAT THE FUCK?!” You shout at him, tears pooling in your eyes. He looks shocked that you rejected him.

It’s silent for a moment before HE, out of all people, starts to sob. And he cries. Loudly. You almost want to punch him but you also feel bad.

Urogi cries to you, clinging onto your legs. He looks like a pathetic mess. “Please, (Y/N), you’re the only one I have that actually makes me feel so good…Everyone else left me…my own brothers left me by myself and want nothing to do with me…You’ve treated me so kindly and I…I just can’t see you with anyone else…You mean the world to me, (Y/N).”

Oh, you couldn’t help the way that your name rolled off his tongue, the way he clung to you as if you are all he has left, the way you are the only one who has treated him with such kindness…Wait, he’s an extrovert and everyone loves him…is he trying to manipulate you?

Whatever he is doing, it’s working. You look down at him, sadness in your eyes. Maybe you were too harsh on him? Maybe he is being serious and doesn’t want to lose you? Whatever he feels, he keeps babbling on with his crocodile tears.

“You made me feel so loved, my own mother couldn’t do that. You were so kind to me when my own brothers would call me names…treat me with such disrespect…I was bullied when I was younger…you are the only person who has ever been so kind to me, not uttering a single word of disrespect to me…I’m in love with you, (Y/N) (L/N), please just…just stay with me…make me feel that bliss emotion again…”

You couldn’t help but frown. Your beautiful features morphed into ones of sympathy. How could you be feeling bad for this man? The man who kidnapped you? Broke into your house? Stole your belongings? Now he is groveling at your feet, begging for you to give him a chance and confessing his love for you.

It was a long silence.

You could only hear his sniffling.

Fuck.

You had ended up accepting his offer. You felt bad and he clearly loved you. He’s also extremely kind to you and spoils you. Though you had to spend a two extra weeks in the basement before he could trust you to let you roam around the house.

He made you cut off your friends and family. Urogi was a kind boyfriend though.

At least you thought so.

Always greeting you with breakfast in bed, making sure you are comfortable, giving you massages, making sure that your neck was covered in love bites and bruises to show that you were his, leaving scratches on your thighs from gripping them too much.

You have truly fallen in love with your kidnapper.

You cut off your family and friends with no hesitation. You stayed at Urogi’s house all day, waiting for him to come back. You had completely vanished without a trance.

Urogi didn’t let you leave the house.

He didn’t want anyone else to see your beauty and want you for themselves.

You sometimes caused trouble for Urogi. Sometimes he wanted you to do things that you didn’t want to do. He usually cried to make you feel guilty but today was different.

You’ve been living with Urogi for at least 2 months now. You enjoyed it. You were spoiled and Urogi treated you well.

He had came home, asking you to do the dishes. It was simple. But you didn’t feel like doing it.

“No, I always do the work around the hou-AH-“ Your eyes widened in shock and fear when you saw the most terrifying expression on his face and his hands around your throat.

“Why can’t you just do this one thing for me, (Y/N)? I do everything for you…I make you feel loved…do you not love me? I love you…Why are you crying?” Tears pooled from your beautiful eyes and he instantly let go and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry, my little dove…Perhaps I was too rough with you…” His arms were tight around your trembling body as he sat and cried into his chest. Urogi felt so terrible that he hurt his little dove but also enjoyed the tears you shed…

After all, only he could make you cry like this and then have you begging for him the next…

[nanomooselet]

Final Phase: The Fairy Tale

I'm going to tell a story.

And because it's a gruesome, disturbing one, it can't be anything other than a fairy tale. Caution is advised.

Once upon a time there was a boy whose name was Nai.

He was a good, innocent boy who loved his mother and his brother, who liked jokes and cowboy movies. He wasn't born what he grew to become. He was, at worst, too protective of his dignity. Precocious. Convinced that he was special.

Then Nai made a choice. Nai went on to make many more choices, every single one of them a cascading result of the first.

Knives would like you to think he's Vash's equal opposite. He's aligned with the Plants; he's their avenging angel. He talks about them as though they're people, calling them "she" and "her". To him, they're suffering martyrs. They're crying out for vengeance, can't you hear them? He's the older twin. He's the adult. He's the authority. He's the lord. He's the avenger. He's a liberator. He's fighting for freedom.

He might even believe all those things. He might have so much conviction that the story, through his eyes, bends to support him.

Nevertheless it is a distortion of the truth.

Knives says that everything he's done was to protect Vash from the humans who'll eat him alive. He wants to keep his brother safe. On this point alone, he's being honest. It might be the only honest thing he says. But it's an honesty concealing a truth no one so much as suspected was there. No one except…

You want to know a secret?

Nai poses as cold and inscrutable, but he wears everything he thinks on his face. You can track his thought processes quite easily, when you know.

I've yet to figure out what the proper order is, but I wager this conversation was one of the last before the fleet crashed, even though in the episode it comes before the one where they discover Tesla. The way these scenes are presented in Episode Eleven is extremely manipulative. 

Right here Nai is thinking: Joke's on you. I know the truth already.

He's reminiscing.

Rem realises in this instant she cannot save her son. That there's nothing she can do or say, or that he'll hear from anyone, that'll spare him the consequences. She looks into the eyes of her child, the boy she raised with so much love, whom she trusted and adored, and she sees the path he's chosen by disobeying her.

Because he ate the forbidden fruit.

Knives loves Vash - really and truly, he does. He always has. He's telling the truth when he says his paradise/world of Plants is incomplete without his brother. But the same way he sees Rem in Luida and Meryl and immediately tries to destroy them, Knives can't understand how Vash exists as an independent entity or as a Plant who has no desire to hone or use his power.

Knives craves that power - wants to have enough that he'll feel safe. You can't forget he is driven above all by fear. Rem ran into the fire, leaving him behind. Knives had Dr. Conrad modify himself so he wouldn't die until Knives allowed him to. One of the arguments he makes to Vash is that humans only live a century at the outside.

He looks at Vash and he sees Tesla, who was so heartbreakingly young when her body failed her, yet to reach her full potential. She couldn't defend herself. He sees her reborn in Vash, because her powers are also Vash's powers: to connect, to receive.

To consume.

This is a second chance. He wants to keep his family safe.

You think that's an operating table? These are specimen jars?

Or maybe an alter? A reliquary?

Holy robes? Suffering angels?

Because Knives calls Conrad a doctor? Because he wants him as a father? Because anything about this could possibly be sacred? That's a table. That's a freezer.

That's an apron and those are husks.

Because the only thing any of this has ever been about?

Preserving the meat.

What do you want to hear? Wolfwood says to Meryl about Vash. That his parts are hanging in Knives's chop shop?

In the English dub specifically, whenever they meet again after the crash, Knives always pauses to inhale deeply before speaking to Vash. Breathing in his scent. Savouring it.

Cain is a farmer. He knows how to raise a crop. How to set a snare. He knows patience, maintaining cycles, destroying infestations. He'll keep his brother safe. No one will touch him. The humans aren't going to eat Vash alive.

Not if Knives catches him first.

The real reason Vash "turned against" his brother? The real reason Vash supposedly chose humanity over the Plants?

Abel is a shepherd. He protects his flock.

No matter what it says, what skin it wears, what it pretends to be…

He knows a predator when he sees one.

Knives has always been like this.

I wonder if it's because he's less independent than Plant. He yearns to be part of a collective, but fears his own identity being subsumed. He's left with an emptiness within himself he has no understanding how to fill, a loneliness he's too frightened to bring to an end.

There's no better way for Knives to keep what he loves safe than making it part of himself. Sustaining his perfection. Sharing his immortality.

So they'll all live happily ever after.

[yuseirra]

I'm honestly...so excited!! (Until the next chapter drops and have me make that same expression kamiki makes and leaves me in despair. What is this comic really)

It's confirmed that Ai really found someone so precious as having a soul defined as nobility.

That's what I'd give to her if I were the author myself. She's a character who wanted to find love and strived for it all her life, I would not settle with her having any less. I would give her the best one to love, ever. He was like that when they were together and I'm sure he still does have her in his heart.

She did everything she could for him. I think he's trying to do the same and has been really pushing himself to do it which went against his nature, which's putting him through so much suffering in the process to the extent of him almost entirely breaking apart. That's why he needs saving. He still has those remainders of kindness left, is he really, really THAT beyond hope because I feel Ai would get what she wants in the end?? If anything, I feel he's THE one she wants. To help, to have, to have loved from what I see, and I'm really happy to have confirmation that he really was that person worthy of her love. If he is, then I also feel it's very natural for him to try risking everything he has for her sake, that's what's being shown in the two songs Fatal and Mephisto. This guy...according to those songs, literally can't bear to live without Ai. He treasures her more than his own life. And I knew it. I knew someone who Ai would love would be that kind of person because they'd have been the one she hand-picked and decided to have children with that she very much adored. I knew that, but I'm still really relieved to see she got the best guy she ever could at that point in her life. You go Ai. She deserves the best person ever and if he has a soul like that he makes a pass.

I really think I'm on the right track! If you've seen me, I've been drawing so much hikaai the moment 154 and Fatal dropped. I knew what this was going to be about. I wasn't sure because it isn't my work and they aren't my characters, so I was nervous and worried, but I kept going because I believed in it.

Fatal isn't a bad song in terms of what you call love you know. I knew it was his, and with 154 adding the context that Ai was really fond of her boyfriend, I figured what would be the answer right away in my subconscience...

If anything, I'm really happy for Ai and I hope the one she loved didn't stray off that far, I believe the guy she chose wouldn't be like that. He seems GOOD. I'll believe what I actually see and make of him, that's another message onk puts out there isn't it? You shouldn't just blindly follow what's been presented. Things are fabricated, exaggerated, with everything inconvenient being completely concealed. I want to look into the guy she loved that much with my own eyes. I can tell she REALLY had a heart for him, and I agree she was right. She's the one character that should be right when it comes to "loving", her theme is about it. Her eyes are "loving eyes". Her name means "love of a star". I wouldn't be surprised if she's the "god who loves people". Amenouzume does bless marriage and love because she found her own love and made her way into his territory, he was a really good guy too. She found the virtuous god who leads beings to goodness to choose as her husband. Can you even find someone who's better than that? She has the best eyes when it came to finding someone to love! It came off as a really cute story for me, and I feel like that's what's happened for her too. She found a really sweet boy she found cute and sort of just.. picked him up, took him in. And he really did love her back a whole lot. I wonder what would happen afterwards but that much IS what's happened. That part of it is very endearing. I'm happy she did find her love you know! So what I wish is for it to end up in a good way that she wants.

[cantsomeoneelsedoit]

Ch 60: Truth

BUT WHYYYYYY?

Why go to all that trouble?

To protect their friends

For personal glory

For the sake of the martial art itself

To ascend toward Godhood

To see how far they can go/because they're destined to be the best

To befriend all the Pokemon

Others want to be the best because strength will bring them the freedom to live however they want:

Some are just crazy for martial arts:

It's already been established that Shen wanted to be the best from a young age, but it turns out that there's something else that's been driving him to push himself, no matter how many times he experiences defeat along the way...

SPOILERS ABOUND!

Shen's expression is so unexpected. It's not a snarl or a tear-jerking frown--it doesn't match the emotional weight of what he's saying. He looks determined and self-confident, like he's waaay past the grieving stage and has turned that grief into fuel for training.

And he just says it so matter-of-factly! A lot of shonen series would have shown him shaking with rage or billowing black smoke or something while he said that line, but instead he just has this alert, "Any further questions?" kind of look about him.

Another common feature of Xianxia/Spirit Cultivation works is the pursuit for immortality. Looks like Feng has that part already figured out!

"I had my youth restored! And friends, I couldn't be more excited to share this special offer with you! If you sign up using my code, we will both receive a 5% discount on all future subscriptions!" --Feng, selling infrared light masks or something.

Not even Victor had Shen struggling like this! But then again, Shen liked Victor and so he could use his ability on him. He still lost, but it wasn't as bad as this. That middle panel of Shen is just wonderfully horrible!

Feng doesn't know what Shen's ability is called, but he's putting the pieces together to figure out how it works.

Most of the characters who've gone through this battle process of trying to figure out someone's ability are doing it so they can have a strategy to defeat their opponent. But Feng just wants to use the info to taunt Shen into fighting harder. He's vicious.

HOLY SHIT

His awakening tragedy is a lot like Chikara's.

Ugh-- the chapter title is Truth, and we expect that it'll be about Shen and his ability and how great he is, but here comes Feng just throwing words like "truth" around and using them to hurt people.

Up until now, we've had lots of examples of how Shen can put emotions aside while he's fighting, but Feng knows exactly how to hurt him and stun him into silence. Luckily, Mui comes in strong with the two-sword style!

Unfortunately, Feng reverse kicks Mui and snaps the swords in half.

Feng finally says what we've all been thinking: aren't there an awful lot of similarities between Mui and Mei?

They look alike. They both look up to Shen. Their names are different pronunciations/transliterations of the same name. They even have the same favorite food: dumplings they make together with Shen.

Mui and Mei aren't carbon copies, but they're similar enough to make you wonder if Mui was added by "God"/the author as a way to both take Shen's little sister away and give him a new companion. It also reminds me of Zoro, Kuina, and Tashigi from One Piece. We'll learn some more about Mui and Mei later in the story.

Now Feng exposes his teaching philosophy, which boils down to:

1. Traumatize your students until they go Super Saiyan.

Even worse, he also has a magic cloud that does his bidding, and he takes Mui hostage on it while Shen suffers below. He has a magic cloud and a magic staff, just like Shen!

Feng is using the same line Victor used when he asked Andy if Fuuko's death would break Andy's spirit. The difference is that Feng wants to hurt Shen not to make him weaker, but to make him stronger!

Meanwhile, Andy and Fuuko are still fighting the Juniors with the help of Kinto'un. Andy slices one of them in half, but the core (and Feng) are still ready to fight.

Feng helpfully outlines his goal, his process, and how Life Is Strange works, but Andy tells him to can it.

Latla hugging little Rip is the heartwarming panel we needed in the middle of this chapter!

Andy doesn't care if he's 150 years old because Andy's also pretty old lol.

Feng is a blood knight who's only interested in cultivating strong opponents. Whether it's Shen, Summer, or God themselves, he doesn't really care. You see some of those traits in Shen, too, but Shen's not as criminally insane as Feng.

And as much as Andy enjoys a good fight, he's all about PRIORITIES. Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of logical arguments that could convince Feng to change his ways (though Fuuko tries to make him see reason!)

Right? Feng's like some asshole who mistreats an animal so he can kill it and say he fought it at its strongest. But with Shen, you literally can't fight him at his strongest unless he likes you. It's a self-defeating strategy.

Like Billy, Feng doesn't realize that WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT! Personal ambitions aren't really something we can afford to focus on right now!

Andy winds up for a punch and Feng gives him an unsure side-eye.

In his arrogance, he dismisses Andy right away. But--

He spoke too soon! Andy's Ten-Twist Vortex Fist sends him spinning and bloodies his lip. I love Fuuko's face in the top panel.

At the end, both Fuuko and Andy say that they're fighting for other people, but Feng is still just fighting for his own amusement. How can they take down a wildcard like him?

Masterpost

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

This one's... kind of fun. Honestly, I might come back to it, I just haven't gotten anywhere for some time, now, and it's bugging me. Let me know if this is one you'd be interested in seeing play out in full, because it could be nice to throw a sillier project in there after AGAS wraps up.

(This is another one that deals with trans characters before they've officially come out, though it's not the main focus, just part of the story. The approach is different from other pieces I've shared in the past, and I don't expect that it will be a problem, but please just approach it in good faith. I never mean to offend, I just like to explore things in different ways.)

-

Emmet had fucked up.

He realized it immediately after the fact, already entire seconds too late. For all that he’d done his research, for all that he knew the where and the when, it had done nothing to warn him for how his plan might backfire. Celebi was reclusive, but not an unknown, and its fleeting form hadn’t given him any reason to fear reaching out for its help.

Instead, it was the wind it blew about on-- the breeze that carried it to and fro in time-- that chilled him down to his core. He couldn’t possibly forget the sensation of it, because it had signaled the start to the worst week of his life-- up until the previous year, that was. In a way, that wind was the reason he’d reacted so harshly when Ingo had failed to check in after [whatever], and what had driven him here in the first place. It had set a precedent.

When they had been young children, playing in the wooded outskirts of Anville Town, Emmet had felt that same wind rush past him, and just like that, his brother had vanished.

If he’d known, he wouldn’t have sought Celebi out. He would have explored any and every other option before resorting to this one, but he’d already made his choice. In the immediate aftermath, he was dismayed to realize that their family’s suffering had come at his own unwitting hand as he tried to right an injustice for the second time.

A small, achingly familiar form darted away, taking shelter around the corner of the shrine. From where he knelt, Emmet could plainly see a pair of dark shoes under the elevated base; they were pointed away, the child’s back pressed to the only cover he had as he tried to figure out where he was and what had happened to him. Emmet braced a hand against the shrine’s edge, helping to lever himself up from the ground, and in the process, noticed that his offering was nowhere to be found, accepted as payment for this… favor.

He suspected the historical society wouldn’t appreciate the disrespect it showed, but he knocked lightly against the shrine’s nearest face and took a step to round the corner. There was a sharp intake of breath, then the sound of running on soft grass, and he found that he couldn’t blame the child; to be torn away from home so abruptly had to be terrifying, no matter a person’s age. He’d been trying not to let himself dwell on that exact point for some time now.

“It’s okay.” He said in the gentlest voice he could muster, and [floundered] for how to follow up. He remembered the week of the disappearance with an agonizing clarity, but it was an unrelated detail he found himself grasping for-- had they started using their real names before, or after? If he called out right now, would his twin know who he was talking to?

...it was probably close enough that Ingo had already decided on what he wanted to be called. Even if they hadn’t progressed to the point where they were actively testing it out between them, he would recognize the name as his.

“I’m sorry.” Emmet said, staying put at the shrine’s edge, one hand resting on its corner, “I made a verrrry big mistake. Please forgive me, Ingo.”

The child stayed still for another couple of seconds, and then-- seemingly ignorant of the fact that his every move could be and was being tracked-- began to inch around the shrine in the opposite direction. Emmet was relatively sure he could catch him if he tried to run, but for now, he waited to see how this would pan out. His currently-much-younger brother paused as he reached the edge where the eastern and southern corners met, and from the [edge] of his vision, Emmet caught a hint of movement. He didn’t look right away, making a dedicated effort not to scare him-- any more than he already had-- but, gradually, he turned his head.

There was a single silver eye peering at him from the other side of the [shrine], fingers curled around the wood just below it. He offered a shallow, apologetic smile and half turned, repeating, “I’m verrrry sorry, Ingo. This was never my intention.”

The boy disappeared back around the corner, but didn’t actually go anywhere. He probably needed time to think, to process. After a moment, Emmet heard his old name echo down the old village, warbling and fearful.

He turned in full and lowered himself onto one knee before answering in kind; it felt wrong to call that name again after so long, but it made the building anxiety opposite him pause, at least for a few seconds.

“I’m right here.” He added, listening for any change, “I am Emmet. I look different now, but I’m still your brother. Can you trust that?”

Around the corner, he heard a [steeling] breath and, finally, Ingo emerged. He looked exactly how Emmet remembered from back then, a perfect match to the missing child posters, down to the black jumper and cardigan he’d been reported ‘last seen wearing’. It would have been sweet to see his older twin so much smaller than him, were it not for the look on his face and the stubborn fold of his arms.

“I only have one brother.” He lied, somehow leaning forward in accusation while also keeping one foot poised to dart away if need be. “You’re not Drayden. Who who are you really?”

“I am Emmet,” Emmet said again, patient, “We’ve talked about this. I know we have. I have two brothers, and so do you.”

[…]

“Ingo,” He said flatly, patience waning, but only for the circumstance, and not the child before him, “You have not corrected me on the matter of your own name. Not once. How many people know what you like to be called?”

The boy muttered under his breath, but it was audibly, “Just Emmet…”

Emmet himself hummed in agreement. “And how would you intend to proceed from here? Do you even know where you are?”

It sounded unfairly judgmental-- of course he didn’t know. He couldn’t know. He’d just been ripped through time and space and was helpless to do anything about it. Emmet wasn’t sure what the worst part was: that he’d been the one responsible, or that it wouldn’t be an isolated incident.

If anything, the question seemed to rile his brother up; the shallower pout pulled into a proper frown and, as unhelpful as the observation was at the moment, it was kind of adorable.

“Obviously not! What kind of a question is that?” Ingo demanded, arms folding tighter in a self-soothing gesture that he wouldn’t even process in the moment. He looked off to the side, as if to gauge his surroundings, but at this age, he’d never set foot in eastern Unova-- hadn’t even seen it outside of travel documentaries-- and didn’t stand any chance of figuring it out on his own. It wasn’t meant as any slight to him, he just didn’t have the body of knowledge he needed.

His expression pinched in distress as he looked down the hill-- no doubt processing the fact that he was surrounded on all sides by an unfamiliar evergreen forest-- and he took a couple of steps down the incline. Emmet made no move to stop him; he could tell from the body language that his brother wasn’t about to bolt, he was just overwhelmed and trying to make himself understand.

Emmet sighed and closed the gap between them, recognizing the way Ingo’s breathing started to shudder. He didn’t know what he could do to help, but he had to do something; he almost reached out to touch his shoulder, but belatedly remembered that he fell under the umbrella of ‘stranger’ at the moment, and it wouldn’t be welcomed. He ended up sitting down next to his twin, legs hanging over the small ledge, shoes grazing the slightly-dewy grass. Hopefully it would make him seem more approachable, less of a looming unknown.

What he absolutely didn’t expect was for his brother to grab his face in both petite hands and force them to look one another in the eye. He still felt minor tremors travel through the boy’s arms, but Ingo’s expression was stern and searching.

“If you’re Emmet, why do you look like that?” He asked, after a moment of serious contemplation.

Unable to stop himself, Emmet snorted. “Like what? I look like you. That should prove it by itself.”

Ingo’s nose wrinkled at the comment, but it seemed he had more important matters to focus on. “No, you told me you want to look like Drayden when you grow up.”

“Ah.” Emmet said, [?], “It’s tragic. Drayden has a propensity for facial hair that we lack. Verrrrry disappointing.”

He raised one of his hands to graze the smaller one holding onto his face, and when that didn’t net a negative reaction, he picked his brother’s hand up and held it in both of his. “I understand that it does not make up for what I’ve done, but I want to help you. Would seeing Drayden make you feel better?”

Ingo thought about it for a few seconds-- maintaining intense eye contact all the while-- and then pulled his hand back. At first, it seemed like a no, but then he sat down on the ledge next to Emmet; he still maintained a safe gap between them, but put them back on the same general level. Immediately after, he looked to Emmet’s far hand-- his right-- gaze raking over the Xtransceiver that peeked out from beneath a sleeve. It would have been awkward and uncomfortable letting someone watch him navigate his Xtransceiver, but today he didn’t try to shield his contact list, and he saw Ingo squint at it before navigating to the next screen-- likely noticing his own name at the very top.

The boy leaned away again while the phone rang, abruptly reminded that he was feeling skittish, which left Emmet as the only one in the field of view when their brother answered. Drayden looked him up and down, reading his expression the very same way Emmet had read Ingo’s a minute before, and, in lieu of a formal greeting, asked:

“What did you do?”

“I am Emmet. I have erred.” He said bluntly.

“Elaborate.” Drayden demanded in kind.

He glanced to his left, at where Ingo was scrutinizing the screen and nibbling on his bottom lip; he still looked on-edge, but some of the tension was dissipating as he watched their older brother and heard him speak. As much as he wanted to convince Ingo that he was who he claimed, he understood that it would be orders more difficult when he had to contend with such a large age gap and the matter of a full transition. By comparison, Drayden had changed very little about himself, and was much more recognizable; he looked older and dressed differently, but the basics stayed the same.

Emmet decided to facilitate this track; maybe if they talked in greater depth, Ingo would warm up to the fact that they really were the family he knew.

“My research on Celebi indicated that it has been seen here in Unova. It likes Zorua and hides in forests to play with them. I decided I would try to get its favor.” He admitted, watching Drayden steel himself the longer he spoke.

“You claimed that you would keep me abreast of any developments; why didn’t you follow through?” Drayden asked, but he wasn’t really looking for an answer-- not yet, at least. His eyes moved to the backdrop of trees behind Emmet, and connecting the dots was child’s play.

The only child present seemed to have picked up on that, too, and wasn’t paying attention at the moment; instead, he was half-turned to look at the shrine again, as if he expected to find a Pokemon lingering there. Emmet gave his hand a brief tap, trying to corral him for the moment, and he reluctantly turned back around.

Drayden’s gaze moved back down to his younger brother. “It rejected your appeal, then? It’s clearly not good news.”

Emmet opened his mouth to reply and left it that way for a moment, trying to figure out how to handle this.

“It… accepted my offering.” He said, eventually.

Drayden didn’t [allow] him even that inch of [?]. “But?”

“There was a miscommunication.” Emmet said. He looked back over to Ingo, who had his head tilted to see the screen better, and was only barely out of frame. Instead of talking to the eldest, he directed his next question to the youngest-by-technicality. “Can you say hi? It would help explain.”

Ingo didn’t respond verbally, but he inched closer so the forward-facing camera would be able to capture them at the same time. Emmet murmured a thank you and adjusted his Xtransceiver accordingly. Drayden’s brow furrowed, becoming a ridge worthy of one of his dragons, and, in disbelief, he quietly called an old name.

“Ingo.” Both of them said, simultaneously, correcting him without any heat. Since the boy in question didn’t have anything else to say at the moment, Emmet added, “We were testing our names out a long time before we told you.”

“Emmet.” Drayden [?], his usually [thunderous/?] voice a mere croak, and he didn’t have to say anything else to get his point across. Emmet knew. Emmet had known how royally he’d screwed up only three seconds into this mess. He nodded, eyes turned down, ashamed of his actions and making no effort to defend himself.

“Where are you right now?” Their brother asked, strength seeping back in and demanding an answer.

Clipped, Emmet [?], “Abundant Shrine.”

Drayden echoed it back at him, already moving and deep in thought. Ingo echoed it, too, but he was more focused on putting a name to the place; he turned back around to look at the eponymous shrine once again.

“Stay where you are. I can be there in 30 minutes.” Drayden said. His attention strayed to something in his immediate vicinity, but once he’d dealt with it, his eyes turned to the smaller of the two figures. “Ingo, stay with Emmet. I understand that this has to be frightening, but we’re going to make sure you’re taken care of, alright?”

At the sound of his name, Ingo had turned around. He scanned the image on the Xtransceiver’s screen again and hummed in affirmation, giving his head the tiniest forward tilt.

“Alright,” Drayden breathed out, relieved, “I’ll see you soon; 30 minutes.”

Emmet nodded back, and Ingo held up a half-curled hand to say goodbye; shortly thereafter, the video cut, leaving them staring at their reflections-- and then each other’s. Neither of them said anything, and Emmet dropped his hand into his lap. Ingo drew his legs up onto their level and wrapped his arms around them, still incredibly [scared] and uncomfortable, but he stayed put, right where he was.

If their arms brushed against each other, neither of them mentioned it.

-------

Ingo had always been very active when they were children, so it felt weird that he stayed in place the entire 30 minute wait, only moving enough to straighten his legs out for a few minutes, avoiding a cramp. When he felt a little better, he pulled them back up and tucked them under his dress, scuffed flats poking out from beneath. His fingers worked into his sweater’s cuffs on either side, and he rested his chin on his folded arms, staring down into the [?] that led to Undella.

Decades prior, when he’d finally [resurfaced], he hadn’t had any memory of where he’d been, the entire week of his disappearance rendered blank. Their parents had taken him to doctors and then a therapist, trying to understand what had happened and-- just maybe-- help recover the [memory], but nothing had ever worked. Back then, Emmet had stuck with his brother like they’d been glued together, unwilling to take his eyes off of him for the duration of an appointment. Most of what he could remember was Ingo’s building frustration-- both at the adults’ insistence and his own inability to provide answers.

Now, it seemed self evident that his memory of that week--this week-- had been a casualty of time travel. Emmet tried not to delve too deep into the implications that held and, instead, used it to his advantage: he could show or tell Ingo anything he wanted without fear that it might change something in their distant past. Chandelure would be far too much too soon, but halfway through their wait, he released Galvantula to keep them company and help break the tension. It had looked between them, completely lost, until Emmet gave a very, very brief explanation, consisting entirely of “Ingo is having a verrrry hard time right now. Will you sit with him?”

So, when Drayden arrived from the north-- riding in on his Salamence’s back-- it was to the sight of a child being flanked by his much-older twin and an incredibly confused spider. When they both stood up straight, allowing him to look them over properly, his expression screamed that he was dismayed, but not surprised.

He drew a deep breath, eyes flicking to Emmet like he had some very pointed comments to make, but he held his tongue, ever the composed politician. Instead, he focused on Ingo, who subconsciously inched forward; his hat must have fallen off as he got up, because he held it in both hands, kneading it anxiously.

There was a [recognition/trust] in his expression that Emmet told himself not to be jealous of; the two of them were incredibly close, of course, but they had different relationships with Drayden. Emmet was the youngest, and he’d grown up with an older sibling right there to lean on, so their distant older brother didn’t seem so [significant]; Ingo, meanwhile, only had Drayden to look up to in that regard. By the time they were old enough to understand their family’s dynamic, the eldest had long since moved on to his life in Opelucid, making his presence the exception rather than the rule-- and all the more valuable to Ingo in particular.

No one would deny that the two of them were each other’s comfort people-- typical of twins, and utterly proven by Ingo’s reticent behavior without his same-age sibling-- but Emmet knew that, to his brother, Drayden meant ‘safe’ in a very unique way.

He was glad, actually-- [envious], but glad. It meant there was someone who could help put his twin’s mind at ease. Emmet was still being mindful not to touch too much or too suddenly, but he tapped the backs of his fingers on Ingo’s arm, urging him to go greet their older brother. The child stepped forward, and when that proved safe enough, repeated the process once more, then again and again until he’d crossed the distance.

For a moment, he stared up, taking in the details and then-- undoubtedly much louder than he’d intended-- said, “You changed your hair.”

“I have a new job, now; I’m afraid I had to adopt a new hairstyle to accommodate.” Drayden said. Unlike many, he didn’t alter his tone to talk to children-- he spoke to them on exactly the same level he would talk to teenage challengers and other adults; he moderated his words and made sure he explained things more carefully, but he wouldn’t patronize someone based on their age. This straightforward approach was the correct one, and Ingo finally stopped working wrinkles into his hat from sheer nerves.

Emmet could tell that Drayden hardly even thought about it as he picked it up and settled it on their brother’s head, tugging the edges down and then tucking it so it sat properly. The same could be said for Ingo, who immediately straightened and then went still, allowing him to fix it without a word of complaint. It was actually quite sweet.

Drayden looked at him for a moment longer before cutting to the point. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

“We were playing by the greenbelt,” Ingo started, watching Drayden’s expression intently, already seeing what he could read into it, “It rained last night, so there were Tympole in the puddles, and we watched them for a long time. After that, we went to find a good branch to hang Emmet’s sweater on, ‘cause someone got wet and we didn’t want mom to find out.”

Drayden snorted, which startled Ingo at first, but quickly proved helpful; his eyes lit up at having made their brother laugh, and he continued on more readily. “We were arguing about which tree was better when the wind started. I don’t know what happened, then.” The admission took a substantial amount of steam out of him. He looked at Emmet, then returned his attention to the eldest, “We talked some after that, and then you told us to wait for you.”

“Alright. Thank you, Ingo.” Drayden rumbled; it was a very deliberate tone-- not a ‘kid voice’ but comforting, the way he would try to help any family member. He looked up and raised a brow, plainly asking for Emmet’s version of events-- as if he was one of their parents, arbitrating a disagreement.

“I sought out Celebi’s help. You already know why.” Emmet said shortly; even if Ingo wouldn’t remember this week, there was no sense in saddling him with the knowledge that would disappear for a second time. “I thought I made my intentions clear, but I guess not. Instead of what I asked, it brought Ingo here. We talked. I apologized. We called you. Now you’re caught up.”

Drayden maintained eye contact the entire time, but after he’d finished speaking, looked away to the shrine. “Is there any way to call Celebi back?”

“Yup. It would need a new offering, though. I only had one.” Acquiring a new one would be a pain, but doable. The offering itself was a glorified dumpling, but the ingredients weren’t the most common, and he’d had to track down the gourmet who frequented Route 5 in order to have it made correctly. Emmet wasn’t looking forward to dealing with her again, but he would do it to put this right.

“Alright, then that’s the end we’re working toward.” He looked back to each of them in turn-- Emmet first, then Ingo. “Would it be presumptuous to assume we’re headed to my house?”

“No.” / “The apartment would be too much right now.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ingo dragging the heel of his shoe through the grass, insulted. “I’m not a baby, you’re just old.”

Though it didn’t show on his face, Drayden choked back laughter; Emmet slowly looked at his younger-older brother and let out a sharp breath. He knew for a fact that it had been retaliation, but not solely for his comment regarding their apartment; he used to say something very similar to their eldest sibling whenever he put his foot down on their childish plans. Dragons, was this what it felt like from the outside, whenever they’d wound each other up?

“Be that as it may. I think a familiar environment is best.” […]

After a few extra seconds to let him stew in it, Drayden took pity on him; he plucked a pokeball from his belt and held it out to their youngest brother, “Would you like to see Swablu again? I’m sure you could bribe him into taking you to Opelucid; you know how he is.”

The look on Ingo’s face would have been laughable-- trying to work out how a creature the size and density of a wadded-up pillow could take anyone anywhere-- but it was cut short as he accepted the pokeball and released Altaria.

There was a short, excited gasp, followed by a hushed, “You evolved!”

Altaria stared unabashedly for a handful of seconds, then looked to its trainer, as if asking if this was some kind of joke.

-------

[this would be a closer]

“[…] can scarcely express how much I’ve missed you, but right now, I need to tell you something of the utmost importance.” [either state that his tone clearly means he remembers now, or have Emmet realize that this is the child’s voice he’s been hearing for the past week] “You’re living on borrowed time. As soon as I set foot in Unova, you’re a dead man.”

[lamentingocean]

▪︎MONGRANG X JAHA▪︎

- Return of the Crazy Demon-

-Dystopian Post Apocalyptic Wasteland Edition-

-------------------------------------------------------

Warning: murders, call of duty ass battles, survival, and genuine tension of one's safety, and slight relationship break, clashes against one's forces, delicious angst, flirting, kinda slow burn.

(Got the idea from a same ambience I listened to while I fell asleep)

-------------------------------------------------------

the society is broken and in danger of extinction all in one day, only one incident or the decision of a person can cost the systematic lives of a million people like Adam and eve as the first humans on the earth to make a decision full of hungry greed to cost most of humanity's flaws and suffering.

supplies and water are scarcely limited, the air is radioactive and toxic to the human body enough to make you wheeze and cough all the way to death due to minutes of being in that environment without the use of a important gas mask, societal changes is something most can't handle or survive, some can adapt right in and some can't live without their families or friends in a society in which trust and love is a gambling dice roll. Win some or you lose some, die to a gunshot to the chest, or devote your life in survival and love to the ones you hold dear. But these two individuals adapted from the moment humanity had depopulated and lived in danger constantly.

mongrang and jaha were two mafia company assassins. each of them are skilled gunslingers, mastery of hand to hand combat, and survival expertise. their companies were enemies, two sides of the same coin, waging war is something they did for years and years until one had to win both the battle and the war.

jaha is much more skilled in combat due to his brute strength, while mongrang matches him in strength but can't match up to his reflexes, one time: jaha actually took down a enemy mafia marriage in the middle of a wedding venue, he broke in, decimated every single one of the groom's bodyguards and murdered them both. taking a sip of their raspberry wine before the last one was brutally mutilated with his bare hands. while mongrang was at a sex club, at his usual personality, and was attracted to a beautiful big booty woman. He stared at them in his disguise before he did his job. killing the leader like he's only a pebble, a pawn, an ant, and a sex driven vile man only capable of seeing pussy and fucking bitches onto his sheets that been washed over and over by how much bodily pleasure essence had spilled over and over like a broken record.

before society changed, life was always controlled by someone or something no matter how free we were or how safe we were from the dangers of the higher-ups, the richer class whom only see the pebbles like us as disposable, only as a peice of trash that's thrown in the garbage, it's always the same. we live by processed food and snacks while they live off ingredients and gourmet foods made by the freshest meats and vegetables. unfair, truly unfair. no matter what. we are always controlled, and we fans of the wealthy do nothing to stop it.

dystopia isn't just a fictional concept in a book or a concept art in a fictional universe made by a intellectual but it's real life, and it's a business tactic, it's a way to earn more money out of control out of the innocent, its dangerous, addictively captivating to the powerful, destructive, and risky. the one key to the end of society just by the cause of greed and a hunger for power. The mere flavor and taste of power to those bastards is like the most delicious dessert in the entire world to them that they never tried in a lifetime, the one key named the "world ender" unlock the door to see a lifetime of money and achievement by the idea of never caring about the people you control, and then..

Every action is your fault. The door shuts, and everything collapses, leaving a handful of survivors to figure out the new age of life.

bunkers are valuable on all fronts, can not be disposed of, and can murder someone to get one in a world either if it's killed or be killed, pick one to end your life or continue this worthless chapter.

Jaha had a bunker at the deep bottom of the mountain outside of the city, his home, and where his companions like hongshin and seongtae can hang out, laugh, and play cards during these tough times, they got a whole stack of food, cans of food and soup, and medical supplies just in case,

mongrang has a home at the top of the abandoned ceo company.

right in one of the conference room where his home resides in.

Stacks of food as a stolen large desk, a pink shelf out of a teenage girl's room. a hand-made mattress, some entertainment such as chess and darts. very lonely environment in the dark brown and black radioactive peppered sky with the windows shut and the doors closed. He sighed as he basked in the dangerous beauty of an apocalypse, basking in the old and grimy flavor of 2000s year old vegetable soup as it fills the tongue with its old nourishing flavor of metal, tomatoes, beets, carrots, and potatoes.

the sounds of footsteps was behind him in the depths of the dark office halls.

a unknown hand that looks like a woman slipped a note under mongrang's door, a stamp of a death mask on it, a warning sight of mongrang's remaining and surviving mafia company owners to continue to kill and kill during these hard times, the constant drama of these forces are like two sisters in a big family fighting over the TV remote to watch either frozen or Shrek. the decision has to be one.

he picked it up in confusion, looked at the halls to see who this individual was but she or he...was gone like a flash of lightning in a dark stormy night, the letter was met with red paint signifying the lust for blood as the cursive went from up to down to all the details of the mission he's about to be assigned to it, it struck him curious for the reward of completion. is it money? is it hot girls from the wild who have been fished out of the dangers of the city to become a hot badass? is it an immense amount of food and water? the mention of jaha's mafia company at the bottom of the paper made it much more irritatingly difficult for the path to completion at the finish line for reward.

"he might be there." he thought over and over.

he ripped the papers to tiny pieces on the dirty floor, making mental notes of the job.

Going to the next door office where his weaponry supplement is.

Pump shotgun, a assault rifle, sniper, revolver, machine gun, smg, knife, blade, sitting there like a snack, picked out like an obedient weapon to use, his hands grasped the tip of both the blade made by the blacksmith: sword demon of his company headquarters and a ordinary sniper.

two of them latched onto his back as his gas mask covered his entire face.

the halls were dark and dirty as he left his small home.

black mold growing on the walls, plantation taking in effect at the first floor building.

he dropped down to the elevator by foot with no damage. legs not even broken like infinite level durability. the main lobby was ruined, stacks of paper on the floor, furniture ripped up into peices, dead bodies on the floor. they look new like someone had been here before, pink mold, and a deadly scent of decomposition and rotting intestinal organs, covering his nose in the horrible odor, his blade ready to strike at anybody just in case. makes him wonder if the ignorance of humanity is our downfall to a catastrophic event such as this to decimate a million people out of authority and control for others. he walked into the deserted war and murder infested streets, abandoned cars, every building in ruin except for the company called "home." Nobody was alive or out there yelling for help in the radioactive mist.

The memory was vast. He can recall it happening before all this apocalyptic chaos began, people screaming in terror, shots fired into the flesh of the innocent, everyone hiding, trembling, trying to figure out what's going on by relying on this dystopia government as the key to fix everything that's happening but no. the complete opposite. it opened the door to oblivion to half of the undeserving-of-death human souls in these used-to-be-active with joy streets, and now it's all gone like a blink of an eye waking up from a nostalgic dream and seeing the nightmare before you. the memory had him stand, staring into the toxic mist, staring into nothingness as the memories continued to flicker.

the government's false salvation in protecting their people, the mindless and brainwashed trust of those who believe their mouths full of lies directly on the TV, major alerts and emergencies across the city, and a witnessed murder of a reporter by a million people which tied to this chaos. it pains the heart of his soul, a man who used to be blinded by lust. Sir mongrang is now paralyzed with the harsh truth that comes before his eyes, accepting the horrible fate of those who been brainwashed.

hell or heaven. pick one for how much wrong you did in your life.

actually. you don't have a choice. your wrongdoings in this world are a setup for giving you immense eternal torture. the torture was the army, lit fire onto everybody for not abiding by the rule to praise these governors, thinking they are God but is only a rich and intelligent human pebble of trash loving the suffering and the mindless desperate praise of the brainwash they caused. it's all so sickening enough to make him throw up. but he held it in, like a barrage of emotions filling his throat and mind of someone he can and can't handle. it's like a poisonous fluid made to crush your heart into pieces out of the truth. but despite all of that...

the mission is more important than staring into space by the memories of that horrible doomsday. his footsteps echoed in the empty streets, the sound of gunshots in the air, mongrang's sniper in his hand. The mission area will soon commence the abundant masquerade of endless murder and mutilation of each other. it's an abandoned neighborhood with a couple of survivors that doesn't have long yet to live. The neighborhood is initially used as a battleground for our wars and our deathmatches, usually being active for its normality in catching bodies. It's miles and miles away. a long walk back to his home and a long walk to the battleground where his enemy fights and killed in such a blood spreading Japanese dance with a storyline only for destorying his enemies, a paradoxical intricate well written hand made storyline by a individual possessed with a emotion called "madness" so very amusing..

The mile felt agonizing, like it took a million years. Step by step to this worthless mission, the only purpose of completion is the reward out of it. But it comes to realization that not everything you do requires a reward at the end of it. The way of life is such a well written type of book in the minds of all of the population of humanity on earth, like an archive of lessons to follow if you want to survive and life. read every single document and note, and then you'll get your wish forward to the depths of what it's like to win. Surely, the cost of living is the most valuable out of any item in the world.

he finally arrived. His enemy company had already arrived to cause the most havoc out of anybody, and each of them had a japanese word spelled "death" on the top of their gas masks, mongrang broke into a small apartment building northwest near the area, stepped up to see a broken window and pointed his sniper to the targets ahead. the guns already blitze ablaze in the mist, reloading with each proficient shot, spilling the blood out of a caught body. the mist makes it harder to see, mongrang caught 8 bodies in the midst of their company wars, one individual in the ferocious, destructive battleground moved like a navy aircraft mastering sonic boom, moved like a agile snake. mongrang aimed his sniper at this individual, widening his eye in shock to see 5 of his company men get killed with ease.

The last enemy was at ground, hiding behind a car to hit his shot against this individual, mongrang went back to the first floor building to switch to his assault rifle. This individual sped fast, knowing both of them are in the vicinity. he lit bullets onto them, dropping death.

one survivor of his company stepped back in horror.

this individual's blade raised up to strike, He lunged forward and counter-attacked with his sniper, asking the survivor to run away. And so they did, leaving them both to scrape their weapons against each other with a surge of strength. the full appearance of this unknown specimen is none other than his worst enemy, the one who put laxatives in his beer at a bar before this apocalypse began, the one who embarrassed him all over social media by taking photos of his shit covered white pants, the one and only jaha Lee. he sheathed his blade out of his sniper. beyond the gas mask sees a face of recognition.

"the...sex demon?"

"It's me, so what? You put some of my company men down to slush. I never expected you to be this powerful during this apocalypse. did you train extra to try and get a little sick pleasure out of killing my men?"

" ..."

the silence remains crushing between the two of them.

"Sick pleasure? I'm doing my job to survive. what are you doing? huddling in an abandoned company building. while you seem to be so against me. how about you kill me and end this self-righteous conflict once and for all?"

he has always been the one to make crazy decisions, but seriously?

"Are you serious-"

"Do it if you're so desperate to live without a homicidal maniac like me to hunt you down like wolve towards its prey. That's what you think of me, right? just a psychopathic usurper?"

"I didn't ask to kill you. I wanted the job done as much as you do. walking here is a bitch."

"Ok. if you want to survive. Then better do what you're told to do. not act out of recklessness and greediness out of a reward for sniping many of my men."

This man is telling me stuff i already know.

"How did you know that?"

"mongrang, pay attention to the speed of your shots. You were too quick with one man after another. That tells me you wanted the job to be done as quickly as possible. Fire your shots carefully like it's a piece of art on a board ready to be shown at a competition. Not just do it because you want to go back home to your big booty woman pictures."

"so what...?"

"Train a little more. we're both powerful and highly dangerous individuals in this ruined, cannot-be-rebuilt society. I expect you to be as equally powerful as me in combat but it looks like I was wrong."

I pointed my finger to his chest as my voice has hints of irriation behind my gas mask.

"wrong? Oh so you think your better than me?"

"arrogance and narcissism is weakness. I didn't say I was better. I expect more of a challenge between you and me, mongrang. take that as you will. the dangers of the world is the definition of change in a person. For example. a girl I know. her name is hongshin. a bubbly cat-like personality before the apocalypse came and purged us all like a bunch of ants to gasoline and fire to a person who really HATES bugs. after the apocalypse set the society to a life of kill or be killed, she's much more serious and has the need to steal things if any food store is available in this destroyed city, like a monster in combat because she would rather brutalize her enemies with proficiency and in a solid motion than rather stick to aggressive uneven combat. she's an example of you. arrogant and cocky. but grew out of it over time. you haven't. suck it up."

he turned his back away from me, keeping his blood oozing blade at his hand as his words struck me like a slap to the face.

He disappeared into the brown mist. I can't deny it. It's the truth, but I want to deny every word since this bastard basically judged the way I shoot. I didn't fill my mind about it since that's the last thing I need to be worried about. I'm starving. I looked at the grocery store, but half of the food was probably mold and covered in disgusting flies, maggots, and a whole bunch of shit. I decided "ahh fuck it" and headed towards it.

the doors were shut, but some of the windows were broken enough for me to climb inside. the smell is horrible, like an odor of someone's shit molding in the toilet after they been shot in the middle of doomsday. I heard some voices in the back of the shelves.

it's jaha but with a woman. is that the woman he mentioned before? Hongshin? either way.. I need a casket or a bag to fit all of my items. just in case. the cans of food in the aisle are fresh, with tomato soup, vegetable soup, clam chowder, cheesy macaroni soup, chef boyardee, cups of Ramen and macaroni but sadly electricity in this city is out, gone like a broken barbie audio doll. I take all the remaining items and put them into my basket. I see some chocolates and chips on the floor at some of the other aisles, I taken one basket out of the floor to fill up more of my food stocks, the bags of chips were poured onto my basket like a waterfall. one basket full of nourishing, filling food, and one was just processed snacks. I think that's all for now. I don't have to pay for it, which is a good thing. I head out back to my "home," but it's only an abandoned company owned by a ceo from the death.

I keep seeing ghosts and spooky paranormal sightings every time I find the bathroom or go down to the basement to take a shower since a lot of people must have die in the horrible doomsday set up by a egotistical mass murderer such as the mayor or the president controlled by this cryptic, vastly relying on the mouths of lies by the rich to save their butts by a army that might be used for pointing the assault rifles not to the main enemy but to us. it's like pouring acid onto your mouth as you're forced to feel every single inch of the burning pain at seeing how beautiful and stank the sin of lies are, especially when it's knowledgeable that it's a ordinary sin to commit. but you have to be skilled at it. that's how you deceive and manipulate.

I arrived at the company lobby, that same rotting corpse scent, continuing to purge my nose with its horrid odor every time I step in and step out. I make my way to the staircases. some of them are falling off their hinges, but he's all the way at the top. You might as well hereby declare the "Acrobatic Fanaticism" challenge! when he has to jump like a monkey to access the place he wants to access without losing the stuff he got, and it's truly successful, the challenge is complete. at the top level was a bin full of broken hearts at his front door.

he set his food baskets down to read the note at the side of the bin, taking off his gas mask.

it said, and I quoted:

"Thank you for completion! Your remarkable and formidable gunsmanship is always 10/ 10 when we come to analyze the bodies at the scene. as a reward for your hard work.. but before i say what it is. Your sniper shots hit them directly in the head. WOW! thats not anything special by the way.~ just so im clear, here is fresh bread and woman soap bars, big booty magazines and pictures of old 1990s models and some money to help yourself to our blacksmith/ our weaponry shop all the way at the company and a legal contract displaying your existence as being a pawn to us. Have a great apocalyptic day!

-Signed Sournan Mafia Company Maiden-

utterly despising, the gift is pretty solid since those bastards don't give me what I need to survive. what I'm the most mad about this entire gift is the no DEODORANT. Don't want to smell like sweaty balls and old blood at the time. but...this really is the best they can give me. in this day and age when survival is key and murder is a must. I must be grateful for the things I get. I set my baskets down to place them at my food shelves and the chips all in the corner for me to eat as a midnight snack. I changed into my usual clothes to get ready for tomorrow because these fuckers love overworking the hell out of me. I lay down in the mattress.

taking my mind off everything that's been going on. I been thinking about what jaha said before the mission came to a close, on repeat and repeat for the last 5 minutes of laying in this poorly constructed mattress out of killing sheep and taking their fuzzy adorable skin to worth my while to actually sleep comfortably than rather sleep on this dirty office floor. it's minecraft people. Enough jokes. his words are cutting me like a knife. I was too focused on this piece of shit of a reward that I hit my shots too quickly, and now he's mad. it's like...he predicted the moment i rushed into that battleground to get the job done only to come to the most out of pocket shit known to mankind.

I can't stand him. That crazy bastard is known for never making sense because his madness is controlling him like a day to day ordinary virus, but he's philosophical and intelligent at the same time, ruthless and monstrous in war like a calculated formidable and territorial creature out to seek their prey, his words keep cutting me like getting your throat slit open over and over and still isn't dead yet but you forgot your immortal. he wants.. a challenge from me. instead of being the sloppy uncultured and untalented combatants that he hates with every fiber. to be a real opponent to him instead of beating the life out of my men. like it's opening a doorway to the truest of rivalry between us. I admire his boldness and his determination to seek a challenge beyond the depths of this poisonous, deadly mist.

I imagine both of us fighting like dogs in the middle of the street, slicing the meat off each other's bones, leaving bruises and open wounds on each single part, squirting out oozes of blood out of our constantly gushing human body as we fight for our individual territories upon this empty land, pointless conflict and illusion to claim and never receive out of violence or misery of others since that's all we know how to do, the conflict between me and him is like a seeping hatred, a tedious concept of both of us in a freezing ocean-shore, protecting the ones we hold dear as we're both in agony, in conviction, and in unease of our motives to either kill or spare. All so tiring in a society full of fight and kill.

either it ends forever by your decision, or it dont.

I stare at my hand conflicted, questioning the concept of "conflict." Is it a virus? Is it addictive? Is it natural for humans to be so against each other as if we all aren't the same? is it built just for one's own demise in self-destruction? is it systematic? Is it any truth as to why conflict is such a necessary motivation to accomplish with each other? this all points to jaha. all of this pent-up confusion about the existence of wars and endless suffering of humans.. points directly to his face beyond that insufferable gas mask. This can't be on my mind for the entirety of the night since it can drive you crazy by unanswered questions.

my eyes slowly fluttered close, entering the dreamworld. the VHS tape of the mind that creates homemade movies for you to pass them time, some of them may be weird, confusing, or possibly alerting. some of them may kill you or terrify you for the future ahead. Keep it mind as you will.

The next morning.

the appalling murky toxic mist made its rise, fluttering my eyes open to the scene of that same apocalyptic abandoned, purged city. my brown hair is unsightly, uneven, and too knotty to be brushed. I reached an old scrunchy in the corner and tied my hair. I was brushing the dirt off my face before I saw another letter at my door.

Picking it up to see what my next mission is for today. it quoted:

"Target an enemy crime group northwest of the city ruins. their influence upon our headquarters is mass murder, theft, assassination attempt at our boss, and hate crimes by putting up a war flag on our front doors, including some broken windows and injury battered ragdolls replicating us. deal with them asap but with that same accurate precision. Your reward is pre-determined by the time you get there to kill those fuckers. Our enemy will interfere with the mission as well so don't fuck up mongrang. Counting on you to stay alive."

-Sign Sword Demon- Number 1 Sword wielding badass."

Sword demon? He doesn't write letters, so if he's writing to me about this, then this has to be serious.

I slammed the note onto the floor to put my bulletproof bodysuit on with a menacing fur coat. I decided to use my blade for today instead of using my guns to kill. I slid my hands to its metal depths, cradling the handle and admiring it as a whole. to see how many bodies I would catch by sticking it inside the target's flesh. I'll bring extra knives to ensure more pain, hear their shrill screaming of pain, and hear their agonizing groans and shouts of pure affliction by my hand. it's euphoric. As I ponder out of my ways to think of eliminating the enemies off the face of the earth.

I still need to focus. My gas mask was hanging at the side of my food shelf. I tied it all around the back of my neck to put it on. Usually, the concept of gas masks is supposed to protect you from any kind of radiation, but the way they designed it is so uncomfortable. I try to get used to it every time I wear it to go back to the grocery store or to find handy items to use for my own personal benefits. Either way, it doesn't matter.

I walk out into the halls, quiet and deserted. No human life in plain sight.

landed down to the main lobby out of the elevator successfully. I see more bodies than usual in the lobby. I don't even know who's doing this.

I forgot to say something about this company. Before the end of the world came into motion. some snobby ceo installed an underground bunker to stock drugs and other illegal material, items, and junk to make more of that rich finances. Unfortunately, the government shut down their deeds, forcing them to throw all the illegal substances into the deep black numbing ocean. The company ceo itself got assassinated by some russians as a missionary determination to get that money out of their safe or pockets. so after all of these unnecessarily morbid dramatizations. some intelligent vegetarians who took pride in farming took the company to be a food production system. That same basement may be discovered soon enough if it's people out there with the intent to take it all for themselves, such a rare specimen in a apocalypse is one to be fought for no matter what. I haven't found where it is yet, but maybe that's the reason why people keep coming here but ended up dropping deceased by something or someone.

nevertheless. this must be done. He said northwest, right? I sprinted all the way to the location. but wait.. if the enemy is going to interfere, then does that mean help? who is the enemy? Is it jaha? Is it hongshin? unanswered questions have enough raw potential to put me in a mental asylum for a week or more.

I finally appeared at the side of a broken debris to hide. the crime group was inside. smoking cigarettes and eating microwaved hot pockets as their gaurds observed every part of the city in their gaze, I proceeded with caution, hiding behind rocks closest to their hang out, My initial question is: "How do they have electricity? every spark of power in this city is disintegrated." Are they working for someone to keep this kind of stuff? as I overthink rapidly.

An entity bolts directly in front of the hideout and executes the gaurds effortless. it's HIM.

jaha. that reckless shithole-

the crime group shrieked their ambush. flinching me to look what's about to happen.

calling in a collection of men with multiple hand-held nukes, machine guns, and poison bombs. they all pointed it at jaha, ready to launch their assault on the mad demon.

it all lit fire, I watch as jaha evade and evade each of them to get closer to the targets ahead. Once he's looming over them like a blood driven predator, raising his blade and piercing each of them with a ticket to the afterlife, releasing a bloodcurdling scream as he continues to handle them like a bitter inhumane entity. some of them were still alive, so I decided to take a chance to catch a body. But something else happened.

I noticed a tank behind me.

the leader of the crime group is inside the tank as I hear a cruel laughter out of its hole. he also noticed and yelled, "Watch out!"

I jumped out of the way. it's cannon is lighting bright red to fire bullets at both of us.

I didn't know what to do. Was I going to die? a human can get fucking crushed by the mere weight of a tank.

It fires all over me, bracing for my demise. but I felt hands onto my back and knees. this man saved me from its onslaught. but at the cost of jaha's arms and shoulders getting shot as he sprinted away like the flash. I witnessed his pain seeping out of his nochalant facade as he got far away from that thing by hiding inside of a small gas station.

"Hah..ngh.."

the sweat dripped off his forehead as he ripped off the gas mask.

"Are you ok..? I have a bit of experience in the medical profession. I can get the bullets of your system."

"Yeah.. hurry up and do it.. I got a job to do.."

"Sit right here.."

"Your lap..?"

he sighed in pain and vexation, hesitating.

"It's the only thing I can do. Don't be stubborn."

"Fine.."

he sat himself onto my lap, asking:

"How deep is the bullets..?"

"not...deep..you can..fish it out with ease.."

I rummage through my bag to take out a forceps bullet extractor and got it out of a medical store just for my own safety in getting shot by some delinquents, bandages, and patches to seal the wound closed.

as jaha's body tensed, ready for the pain in fishing out the bullets inside him. I reached into his flesh, searching for it. He winced and held his grunts of pain.

"How many bullets are in your arms?"

"3..or more.."

i found it, the metal bullet sliding out of his blood dribbling flesh as i patched it with some healing ointment. I threw it on the ground as I went to his other shoulder. has 2 shots on his shoulder and...don't know how many in his arms.

"Did it hit any fatal parts?"

"My arms..? no..it didn't.. I can move them..o-once you done..get this over with.."

the second bullet wasn't that hard to find. Throwing it on the floor once more, I applied the ointment and applied the patch.

"What's so important about yours, huh? do you have to eliminate the same crime group for a pre determined trashy reward?"

"Shut your mouth. do your NGH- job.."

sliding it out of his flesh out of his arm. I realized he has more than 3. he has 7.

"your such a reckless asshole. Why did you save me out of that shitty situation?"

"I felt like it.. had no reason.. you know this.."

"we're enemies. You should've let me die if you had the chance."

this is going to take all day. His wounds are already bleeding immensely as I try to find the bullet in his upper arm.

"die..? N-no no no no..I wasn't going to let you die by giving me a challenge first..gotta rival with the one you have.."

"Are you delirious by the bleeding?"

"I require a challenge. I won't let some bullshit..t-tank take you from me..I need you to prove my strength as not always being on top of the leaderboard..you match me.."

"I'm aware. Keep quiet. this is going to take long, so just enjoy the painful ride idiot."

I'm at the second bullet. But as I did. He passed out on me. Laying his head on my shoulder as I tried to render him conscious and he is, breathing in and out at a normal pace with exhausted eyeballs. Truly, two sides of the same coin, we both work under a company that doesn't care for our own mental health or our wellbeing. He mentioned that he needed a challenge, but.. does that mean he's sick of being tired of being a physically and spiritually powerful individual to level up to everybody instantly with no cheats? Well..the jade of heaven in him is a cheat code, but do I train to fulfill his boredem..? He's my enemy. This is odd. I continued tending to his wounds as I got 4 bullets out. I got 3 more left. This reckless dim-witted idiot.. always puts himself into trouble without a reason. I shouldn't complain since it's basically my fault that he got hurt.

I suddenly felt guilt. his affliction by my actions is something I needed to be paid for, but I can't just go ahead and leave the city ruins just to figure out what what we should do. the situation is vastly disordered, to say the least. If the entirety of the city ruins is out of power, then how or where did they get such a valuable piece of technology such as light. are they working for someone or something? Are they beings with malicious intent to plot the objective to decimate, not just my company but jaha's as well? is conflict between our collective groups, the only thing we need to do to assert power over each other when something is clearly wrong here.

I have no choice. I'm on my last bullet, and it's at his lower left arm. directly near his palm. as soon as I'm done.

I'm picking him up and getting him out of the city by foot. our companies are going to deem us as missing, thus enabling a search and rescue party out of our respective parts to plan in this doubtful war between a measly crime group with explosive weaponry more advanced than ours. right when I patched his wounds up, I lift him up to my shoulder, put on his and my gas mask and sprinted out of the scene before more catastrophic bloodshed occurs into the streets of the empty city ruins. I suddenly recall something i remembered sleeping 3 years ago. an empty beach with a haunted airbnb outside of the city.

that's my only conventional option to seek out of danger.

-Timeskip-

I set my stuff down on the dirty crimson slatted carpet after showering in that wasted space.

I collect a can of tomato soup and heat it up under the fire, boiling nicely as I continue to overthink about the possibility of another powerful threat looming over us criminal corporations well enough but why was we both chose to annihilate them? Why was we sent on the same mission at the same time to go after a bunch of low-life weaklings? It's a bunch of suspicions on this case that I can't even figure out the pieces yet to place it all for it to make sense. None of it makes ANY sense. Our way of making things work in this collapsing society is pretending like it's the 1700s when blacksmiths used to create their weapons with raw materials. or when we scavenge for leftover material from the city when we slowly ran out.

I don't know if it's the same case for jaha. Because the way he operates is an orchestration of predictability and danger drooling out of his person, so that means I can't tell what he's doing at all. but.. as I ate my tomato soup, he still hasn't awakened from his unconscious slumber, I kept an eye on him all the steps I took to get us to safety as soon as possible, the virtue of our well being is the only thing that matters.

as I stare at his slumber, his gas mask on the floor, patches all over his arms, and locks of black hair messy. I can not admit and admire anything about him since we're two sides of the same coin, the ying and the yang, the god and the devil so against each other out of a stupid reason for wage and slaughter all by the name of our horrible companies, every letter is get reminds me of a basic japanese work office as a 60 year old man. this is the embodiment of my company and his company as a two peice. it fills my stomach with dread and enraged anger that I'm basically controlled by those ungrateful bastard. that my existence can be disposable to them. it might come a day when my knives graze the flesh of jaha Lee. an enemy I do not want to kill.

I can grab my knife right here and stab him right here and right now, but I don't have the guts to do it. I can't do it. No matter how hard I try.. no matter how many times I was forced to kill a man like him, targeted for mass murder, and an master combatant, I could not seem to push past my boundaries screaming at me to kill him but I can. physically, can't. Even though i remain in hostility towards his presence.. i feel a lingering emotion inside me, unexplainable. It's just there.

stabbing my heart with something.- I held my chest with my eyes widening in this newfound emotion. I begun to-

I glance at him, stirring away as his body moves in motion. scruffing his hair as he surveyed the entire area to figure out where we're at. Blinking his eyes open and closed to properly see the scene of my dinner beyond the comforting fire with firey wood.

"where..did you take us..?"

"Old airbnb. I stayed in here years ago so I can give you the tour..it's really held up even as an abandoned house, no plantation, specks of black mold, still water and a odor. your welcome..-"

"What about our companies?"

I held a heated up can of soup to him. giving him a clean spoon as he lubed it up, smelling the delicious scent as he clearly looks hungry at the face of the boiling vegetable broth ready to be scavenged.

"Eat. You need your energy back."

"You still haven't answer my question?"

"They deemed us as missing. They held a rescue party at the both of us due to our status in never coming back to each of our individual company grounds at the scene of the attack. some homeless civilians who resigned from my company told me when I looked for wood..for some reason..the woman seemed..truamatized..almost broken by the past experiences of my company which is weird. so.. I'm starting to question everything."

"everything..?"

he took a long sip of the soup, pondering to my conflicted words.

" Yeah. why exactly were we both elected for a mission to kill a small criminal group? what was the point? how do they have any type of power? How do they have such high power weapons without any use of mechanical materials as their group hideout looks like shit. So I began to think of the possibilities that their hands on heavy weapons might be a problem, so what is going on..?"

" I might have some information about that.."

"You do?"

Jaha pointed one finger up at me to keep my mouth shut as he continued to eat like a food deprived glutton. But aye..he was asleep for hours so I can't blame him whatsoever.

"I overheard some of our top operators of intel talk about a plan to regain a position of power. To give purpose to the city by giving it civilization and power. I don't know much about the information to annihilate the crime group. But..it must be a coincidence."

"Huh.. I heard the same thing when I was getting a newly constructed blade... are we .. hearing the same thing?"

"Probably."

he distinguished the soup in an instant. Every inch of it is completely gone.

"Should we consider that as an initiative in mind or just keep it silent in general?"

"... silent. can't discover our position to discover their reasons for that. Even the most strongest has their reasons for their intentions. dark or not."

"How's your wounds?"

"Sore. but I can still fight."

"Ooh? one is bleeding on your shoulder. shit. I guess I didn't seal it right.."

"I'm fine."

I grab another one of these patches from my bag and went closer onto him, my body close to pressing against his as I lightly touched some of his metallic blood to see he didn't lose much.

he stayed silent most of the time, but I felt his heart pumping as I apply the new patch onto his shoulder.

"you good now."

"Is there a shower somewhere?"

"Yeah. Third door on the left. The patches are waterproof, so you don't need to worry about them falling off like children's stickers."

"Understood."

I watch as his locks fall down all the way to his back, leaving a black oasis of beauty, eyeballing it in smitten beauty. He shut the bathroom door, leaving me alone in the empty living room.

I continued to think about him as the rain of hot water started to echo out of the bathroom. like he gave me a curse, a fond purgatory of what's right and what's wrong in this wasted up relationship, two enemies who tried so hard to strategically plan each other's descent to hell by orders of the higher ups, but i feel infatuated, obsessed, in control of one's authority gleefully. but I can't. We can't. we're either forced to betray or hurt each other for the sake of our company's satisfied murder pact, their sick grins as we stick our blades and knives onto each other's fresh flesh. But I still can't do it.

I feel stuck, conflicted, and full of thoughts.

tied between the evil and uncaring nochalance of our companies by having their strongest men to fight each other over and over as they drink their most expensive wine, biting their cotton candy grapes and fresh fruit as they see our demise as their own sickening twisted entertainment. I'm worried jaha might know this, too. knows he might be also under authority but doesn't care and does his job like a mindless puppet. this has been his..- no. Our fate from the moment we agreed to their contract after analyzing our combat data for the application to apply for these companies. if we ever decided to disband our loyalty to these companies, then we'll be gunshot at a split of a second. as humans. Our safety is a top priority since our lives are to be cherished because we only live once after all.

But our lives is easily being taken advantage.

I can't stand for that devilish shit, but I can't do anything about it since my life is at their hands.

I heard him turn off the shower, getting dressed.

I continue to look at the bathroom door, having a brawl to this lingering obsession inside me, clawing its way outside my flesh as it begs to be let out of its cage. my problem is him. he's my enemy and my nemesis, but yet I feel no bloodlust for his death. I could've just latched onto his naked, muscular body and slit his throat, but something in me drove me not to do it, not to hurt him, not to do anything else to him other than to tend to his wounds and help him survive in this empty city reeking of no civilization.

I watch him open the door to new fresh smelling suits for battle, just in case. All in grey or black, he sat down near me in the middle of the vibrant fire, almost like he wanted to say something to me but couldn't spit it out. as he remained silent.

I gaze into his deep red eyes, glancing down at the burning fire, ambient and morbidly addictive for these deep eyes to glow at the ones who see him as a pawn, as a puppet, as a goody too shoes for never touching the innocent, and as a psychotic asshole. he's spacing out into the depths of the light red firey holes.

"jaha."

"What do you want?"

my blue eyes shine in the smooth ambient mood of the fire.

"It seemed like you wanted to say something to me. so say it. whatever it is. I will understand. no matter what-"

"Don't act like some kind of therapist"

"You sure as hell need one. You're usually so blunt. What's going on?"

he looked at the fire as he seemed shocked about his thought process in each of the situations. OUR situation.

"What if that same criminal group were out to kill us just for us to never figure out the truth, or they have the keys to the truth of their motives to regain power? surely the reasons why we were both sent on a mission to assassinate and end their group once and for all for a vast reason that's classified. we're seen as puppets. if we dig even a small paper full of words that can fulfill the peices to the puzzle then a bullet will be the end of us."

"Understood. but as enemies. this motive might cause us to go against each other like we always do, forcing us to kill the innocent as part of their plan. we don't even know what their plan is. or what they are trying to do while they succeed in gaining this position of power, but it isn't up to us. It's up to them. they are the ones in authority. It freaks me out. I know. either or.. we're strong enough to battle and win even the most toughest of this city physically."

I clip on my gas mask as he puts on his. He's quiet about my words, but I feel a sense of acknowledgment inside him, the gust of the feeling of empowerment and a lingering anger to be used as a pawn to many of these mafia company owning murderers who see the chaos as nothing but a circus for their own lively twisted joy.

I picked up my blade as he picked up his revolver, caressing the handle in a smooth motion.

"where are we going?" I ask.

"..to get a treat."

"WHERE- oh..nevermind. I know a large gas station nearby but why..? A treat?"

"Shhh.. I need one. I'm in the mood for smores. I never tried one before."

"While we're on the RUN?"

he walked to the middle of the street, gesturing me to follow him.

"Definitely."

"You're insane. why would you feel the need to eat some fucking smores in a apocalypse?"

"Hmm. Many people said it was delicious, so I decided to go get the ingredients and bite into one once we go back."

We see the large gas station in the misty horizon.

"You didn't bother to eat one before the apocalypse happened?"

"No. Dumb-ass."

we climbed into the window only to see a food stock at the side of the store like someone had been here to shelter for the rest of the week. and most of them are fresh at that. None of them were growing moldy from the looks of it.

"Why didn't I bother..it's heavenly in here."

"hm..let's see."

jaha ravages through the food stock to see fresh cans of chicken broth, cream of mushroom soup, garlic butter crackers, full bags of candies and treats, and pot pies.

Lastly was the smores he wanted to make. the marshmallows, the chocolate, the Graham crackers. All we need is a smooth fire to heal it up into a decadent appetizing treat, I watch him and our surroundings to make sure nobody recognizes our appearance only for us to turn us back to our respective individual head quarters.

"You got what you need?" I ask with caution.

"Yeah. while we have the free will to do what we want to do without some sons of bitches controlling our lives. I figured to eat something I haven't eaten before. while it lasts."

"...noble."

he stood up with the stuff, we climbed out the window to see that same empty street and gas station parking lot, nobody else is here but I have a strong gut feeling that something isn't right here.

"Put the stuff in my bag. take out your gun just in case."

"Alright."

he put every item in my bag and took out his gun.

"We can go. I just wanted to make sure we have protection."

"We can crush skulls. We'll be fine."

"Maybe YOU did. Not me."

our steps were like a path to dangerous unpredictability. You must always trust your gut, so I assume that someone or something may be watching us or assassinating us with the most stealth. we arrived in the airbnb with no problems except the sounds of wolfs howling and the toxic mist breezing aggressively across the burnt decayed trees.

"a-alright. Oh, the fire hasn't gone out yet." he spoke.

"You were tense throughout our entire walk back."

"And you weren't just telling me to whip out my gun for nobody?"

"Trust your gut. that's the reason why."

jaha rummaged into the stuff of my bag to get out of the stuff. me and him took off our gas masks.

"Understood. You want some?"

"...sure. i...haven't tried any too."

"..."

he opened all the packs for him to set up the smores, but first: heat up the marshmallows first.

"You decided to argue with me about getting smores in the middle of an apocalypse, but you haven't tried some TOO??"

"Yes. I apologize. I figured your curiosity in desserts is unnecessary in a situation like this. usually eating desserts in a post apocalyptic world is the last thing on our minds."

I watch as he heats up two marshmallows beneath the comforting, warm fire, basking in its withering breezing flaming tips beyond his red eyes as I wait beside the dirty couch for its oozing burnt goodness to seep out.

" it always good to explore things you never did before while it lasts. it's no smores in hell so."

"definitely is not. that fire can burn skeletons from beyond that hellish flames we're destined to arrive to, only to suffer..come on. we both do atrocities by killing thousands and doing mass destruction."

he set up the finishing product by combining the chocolate, the graham crackers, and the marshmallows all in two irresistible luscious treats.

"It's done. yours is right at the end of the table."

"hm.."

I pick it up with two of my palms to see the chocolate melting out of the heat of the marshmallow. I felt scared about the taste, but gotta do what you gotta do. I took a bite, my eyes widened at the taste, delicate burst of scrumptious combinations. I couldn't stop biting into it. it's a addictive explosive. it's apparently a socializing type of snack to make, but I don't think I care. This shit is good on it's own.

"The fuck mongrang." jaha stared at me.

"Sorry, I'm just... Korean BBQ is overrated enough, and i can understand that since it's quite delicious, this needs to be more popular. It's only used at camping events and crap."

"I give it.. 6/10."

"6..? Why?"

he took the last bite, licking the chocolate marks off his finger.

"Could be better if it's Carmel chocolate or chocolate with a richer flavor than others. Dark, white, raspberry, and strawberry could go better with this."

"Agreed."

I kept watching him lick the last of the chocolate off his fingers like an incompetent, inconsiderate pervert. Some part of me is screaming at my desires to tell him to suck me off, but I kept forgetting he's my enemy, the one with hidden intentions about me. and that's dangerous.

"We both have a long day tomorrow. so you might as well rest. So do i."

"important day..?",

"We can't stay missing forever. we need to go back to our headquarters tomorrow which means..we have to go our separate ways."

"Oh..alright.."

he took one last look in his dark red eyes at me before turning around to lay down, drifting off to sleep with his back turned away from me, like none of our time together as enemies with a hint of friendship and trust is all for naught. the truth is.. I feel like my soul doesn't want to be separated from him. Something in me is wanting to be pulled back in him like a lusty seduction. hopefully, he'll express his gratitude for my help in tending to his wounds, giving him food, and spending time with him even if we have the malicious intent to kill each other.

I turn away from him, laying down at my side of the living room, watching the soaring, deep sea create soothing waves to fit the midnight ambiance or the full moon. Its immense neverending beauty pulls me deeper to a relaxing slumber, but all of this isn't enough to make me end the war between my aggravating conflicted thoughts about jaha. a enigmatic figure.

My enemy. I can't seem to stay away from. no matter how hard I try. I drowse to sleep.

It continues by the time our range of view flutter open to that same repetitive mist.

it's in the afternoon, me and jaha stealthily made our way back to our companies across the city ruins as our worries about that same criminal group are out to manslaughter many of us, we don't know if they'll show up in a corner and hit us with a deadly rain of bullets with that same FUCKING tank that nearly ended my life before this man saved me.

But we stopped on our tracks. Jaha stepped back as he stared at me but at this tension. his voice spoke in that stoicism.

"....thanks for saving me and taking care of me. I appreciate it. But..don't forget we're still enemies. two sides of the same coin, and two powerful individuals incapable of building friendship or kindness by our surge of bloodlust for each other, even as we're standing in the middle of this empty street right now. I still want to stab you for refusing to give a proper challenge. So the next time I see you again. be stronger, be more resilient, and have that growing determination to beat the shit out of me since I have acceptance in defeat."

"Hm. I do have a lot of bloodlust for your demise. But..for now. This isn't a proper goodbye. It's rather until next time we see each other ripping off flesh and breaking necks from the men of our own companies. I'll eventually fulfill your request to give you a challenge if I have time.~"

I felt a stinging pain in my person as he waited for more response from me. I...don't want him to go, I want to stay with him more, I want to see him more and figure him out his mysterious madness driven personality and personal life I know nothing about but I want to keep digging to find more about his unknown complexity I can't understand, but I can't and it's slowly tearing me apart. It's tearing me down agonizingly. I gulp up all my frustrations and inner pain to spit out more of my words.

"..until next time."

"Yes. sex demon."

I watch with my pain increasing to a dangerous point as he bolts out of my presence to go back to his company, and now.. he's gone. gone away from my life for a short while, long while, I don't know how long, but it's all for certain that our relationship is growing at a slow rate. In a good way, I feel like i understand a little bit about him even though his complexity and his unpredictability get people's minds boggled. It's best to hope for the best between me and him. even if our scum companies force us to break if it grows at a rapid pace. I blink my eyes open and closed to leech off the surging stress from my mind.

I walk back to my company grounds. noticed my guns aren't functioning correctly every time i get a shot, I open the main lobby doors to see some of my family members crafting their own specialty gun, eat, shit, or relax inside the depths of the building, I saw the sword demon inside the blacksmith, sparks of fire shaving off the blades he's creating.

"Master?"

"You're alive. Huh? I was beginning to think you had an early grave. what happened during the mission? Why were you missing?"

"..."

Should I bring up the situation between me and jaha or just lie to him and get myself killed? None of these options are safe.

"I-"

"If you lie to me, then I will whoop your stupid ass. I was worried for your safety. tell me what happened truthfully."

no way to get out of the situation, so I decided to tell him everything as he's fixing my blade.

"So..want the short version or the long version?"

"Long. Since I was initially your cause for most of your combative and gunslinger training. You shouldn't excuse yourself for backing out of a fight of what sort. my influence taught you to be precise and focused. So..what happened?"

"Promise you won't say anything about it to anyone?"

"Just say it."

I gulped up my anxiety to tell the entire story.

"Our enemy company, which is shiguan Company, sent their most formidable assassin to take down the criminal group we were also targeting for their crimes. So it's like a weird collaboration between our company and there's to take down the same measly group for whatever reason. jaha unfortunately got attacked by a tank led by the group, so we had to run away from whatever weaponry they held to kill us. I tended to his bullet wounds, fed, and took care of him in a random beach house airbnb. That's all."

"...a tank? But how? NONE of us aren't even close to gaining that type of firepower/ bullet power. And our scarce access to technology in this city is nothing but charging a phone or turning on a light. so how do they.."

the situation continues to be as annoying as a damn ill mannered child in a sugar rush in a little kid's birthday party that isn't there's to begin with, i can understand his frustrated confusion, bubbling into more thoughts and thoughts to their unknown, and dangerously mysterious access to that kind of exclusive high power products only the government or forces powerful enough to kill a thousand. Let alone have the willpower to possibly take over a corporation by endless, greed controlled bloodlust. I think that's the case but my explanation goes further than just a few words.

"isn't the case. They actually had technology. When we're talking technology, then it's phones, computers, laptops, and tracking devices. These people had working microwaves, lights, and all types of shit. I was even confused about how they obtain that when every single part of ours is just scarce, easily broken, and needed for consistent management and maintenance at all times in order to keep ourselves going."

"hm..interesting. and did you get any Intel out of your mission. same as...jaha?"

"No information about him. yet. But.."

my eyes looked down, living in a virtue between conflicted emotions about that man. Even if I should tell a beautiful lie to my master, i shouldn't.

"But what?"

"...nothing. what has our Intel team did in terms of the criminal group?"

"they got no important intel and information regarding their actions and wearabouts. The only thing we truly got out of those bastards is the consistent and vile mass murder of any remaining civilians in the city ruins. but.. I think we might have a lead to everything they have been given to be this powerful. that's what the boss said, but they haven't gotten anything yet."

"Any new missions today?"

he handed me a small note written in cursive, it's a SOS letter.

"Some woman with two children is southwest of the city ruins. I went to forge and searched for some metal around the streets there until I saw them in a parking lot, hungry and shivering in the cold with their gas masks ripped up into peices. I asked them if they're ok and if they needed anything.

They needed food and water. they were ravenous, ill, injuried, and terrifyingly parched. So.. I need you to go to a store and get them some food so that this apocalyptic chaos won't be the last thing to see before they reach their descent. she wrote this letter just in case. In the last thread of hope that anybody would save her from her and her children's cold and morbid misery."

I inspected the note. It wrote:

"My name is Lydia. my husband currently died a dreadful death, we ran and ran to a safe location until a tank came at our way towards safety. we tried to run, but the attacks were too much, as soon we looked back. He sacrificed himself for me by getting crushed by its weight, having his crimson liquid seep out its wheels. I never looked back at the horror. we luckily found an abandoned underground parking lot in the southwest. ever since he died so horribly. I cried and cried, my tears came out like an ocean at all the times my children went to sleep. If someone is out there, a good soul will end my pain. food and water are all I need. I will express my gratitude to you. please.."

"crushed? That goddamn.."

"Go ahead. I'll reward you for this instead of sex magazines."

"Hm."

I step out into the hallway, my hatred for this group growing more and growing like a blazing, enraged greek god, I flip back on my gas mask to leave the doors of the headquarters, banging open the doors out. how dare this group.. damaging jaha's body is enough already to make me burn up in internal fire, but murdering an innocent husband out of bloodlust? their motives continue to be a trivial dice roll in an adult board game. They either did it to spike fear and anger into us, or they did it for the love of descending in a normal human life. As I walk down the dark, dim streets of the afternoon misty depressing sky, mind racing with vengeance and sorrow for this woman's change in her life.

I see a small grocery store in the southwest. It's timid, small, and can only fit a minimum thousand items in there. But better take your chance, I walk in, the broken intercom start talking convoluted mess of my body motion. it's a whole bunch of junk in here, but it's mildly a jackpot in here. I take multiple plastic bags and fit every single food item in these. cans of soup, snacks, bars of soap and skincare, blankets, pillows, and portable mattresses. my hands are full with every single one of these items for this small family, as I walk out the door, unable to pick up my gun for self defense because of all these products, I felt bad for the family, at the husband, and at the unfortunate lives of the withered, lost, and barely subsisting human beings trying their diligence to find food and live for themselves. he mentioned an abandoned parking lot, right?

I heard raspy whimpering at the bottom of this one. it's the exact parking lot he mentioned.

I step down and down to see chaos. I look to the side of my eye to see a terrified woman with children fast asleep. The look in her eyes is terror.

"You're Lydia right?"

"y-yes.."

"Don't be afraid. I'm not a part of that vile, criminally psychotic group. I brought you a lot of food and supplies for survival. I got your note from my..company."

"Company..?"

her eyes widened in even more terror at the mere mention of my company. I think she knows who I am. her arm raised up in defense against me as I loomed over her with only a look of sympathy and understanding.

"...yes. I'm part of a mafia assassination company. I'm not your enemy. I came here to help you, to get you out of this continuous pain you're in. stuck in this city ruins with nobody and nothing. I brought you this stuff for a major reason. I sympathize with you and your children, this apocalyptic world we live in prevents them from growing up into normal lives. it isn't fair for selfish rich government ceos and presidential leaders to sacrifice a city for the sake of that cash. I want to help you. Let me help you..please? You don't have to be afraid."

I reach out to her, hoping she'll understand me. and she did. her hand was trembling of fear and the shivering cold.

"t-thank you."

"I brought you bars of soap, stacks of food and cans of soup, blankets, pillows, and portable mattresses. The instructions are in the back of the box, skincare, and snacks. I recommend remaining here for the time being so that danger doesn't lurk. but..for protection for you and your children. do you have training in gunsmanship?"

she huddled in the warmth of the blanket before answering my question.

"My father taught me how to shoot before he died from cancer. so I have a little experience."

I slid my revolver directly to her on the floor. with a bullet box fully in stock.

"Take it. Self-defense is key in this world now. in order to protect yourself and your children. This is what you need. There are enough bullets in there to kill multiple. Feel free to reload if you want. but the tactic is to do it quickly as possible so you aren't vulnerable to any position for the enemy to shoot you back. Understand?"

nodding frantically. She took it almost as if she's desperate to protect the only family she had left.

"You don't need to thank me.. the acts of sympathize and passion in saving another life in this world is nothing but a show for people to analyze your weaknesses. Remember that. You're strong enough to live for your kids after your husband died a horrible death. You're still living. and yes. That's good. Continue to live."

"Thank you..w-what is your name..?"

"Mongrang. make sure to-"

the loud footsteps from the halls came drastically in an unexpected remark. It sounds like 5 people are approaching the parking lot by aggression. I told the mother to hide behind the pillar before these five people busted in.

jaha got thrown back onto the floor, injuried in the arm before I could even mentally comprehend what's happening here. I watched as he held his bleeding arm.

"jaha!"

I look back to see the boss of my enemy mafia company.

"You."

Ignoring me in a rude manner, he held his knife up at jaha's chin, yelling and spitting angry nonsense directly at his stoic seriousness. he said nothing as he put pressure onto his wound to stop the bleeding.

"what the FUCK is wrong with you?! you went out with this sex crazed bitch without doing the mission I assigned you to do, protected him, and was gone for 2 days with the person we told you to kill over AND OVER! you should have let him die! the tank was nearly going to kill his stupid ass so why did you even - this is ridiculous."

jaha went closer to his face, not caring about the knife at all.

"Of course. I felt the need to protect him. why do you care if i die or not? The higher ups like yourself always treat their workers like a disposable pawn anyway. So I died right here, then what would you do? cry in sorrow or nonchalantly walk out like you rich fucks always do?"

"It was never intended to dissappear for two days with your nemesis. you were supposed to kill the criminal group. not eat smores with this porn magazine addicted fuck."

"hmph."

before he could spit some more, I held my pump shotgun directly behind his fat forehead, his men aimed their assault rifles at me to cease my violence. I scowled at his attitude.

"Maybe consider the inveitable suicide mission dealing with that group before you talk to your strongest assassin like this. you rich slobs always seem entitled to think your fragile control over anybody is getting them to submit to you. jaha is powerful, but he can't fight against a tank. that's the issue here."

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Face me."

as he did, he tried to stab my chest with his flimsy knife, but I caught his hand and twisted it, causing him to let out a groan of pain. his men still aimed at me.

"First of all. that group has some kind of secret organizations that get the most weaponry out of any company or production industry in this city, if we're able to reveal the secrets to their strengths, then this issue wouldn't escalate so badly would it? You know.. I almost seem bad for you. Are you really that unintelligent enough to blame it all on your strongest assassin because they don't have the infinite level durability enough to stand through a TANK? we were both going to die if he didn't act quickly. He saved my life."

"He should have let you die-"

"And if I died. would the bloodlust and bloodshed of our company's wars ever end? if I ever died, then you wouldn't stop to consider the drastic urgency of my own to wage war and destruction against you for murdering me? every time we fight. You get some sadistic kick out of it. Every time we fight. you want us to kill each other like a bunch of feral animals deprived of meat. You don't care about the safety of jaha. You only care about money. and you need a man worth dying for if it benefits your pockets."

no more words was said from his mouth, which means i was right about everything i just said to his face. utterly pathetic. usually when a person stops talking and all that remains is silence out of your words. one point for being intelligent enough to figure it out like a children's book, I glanced back at jaha to check if he's ok and his expression was a change to his usual demeanor. his eyes shined in astonishment and surprise at my declaration of my concern for his safety. openly stunned by my words of basically saying I care about his wellbeing. as I was only paying attention to jaha's unexpected demeanor. the man continues to have his emotional bursts of hellfire.

His reaction merely shows his closed-minded attitude, accusing me of being wrong about the entire thing as he doesn't care whether or not we die or go in this very parking lot. he barks like a feral inconsiderate dog as he issued his men to circle around me, pointing the tips of their assault rifles at the skin of my body. right as I'm immobilized is the correct moment for him to continue barking with a strong surge of stupidity.

"Your death is the main objective to giving us more of an advantage in this useless self righteous war, your marksmanship is incredible, your hand to hand combat is legendary and formidable, your speed matches that of a superhuman and yet you expect me to believe jaha did or didn't care about saving your life by thinking of how much your company rely so much onto your mere abilities!?"

"And yet you don't have the willpower to have your men obliterate my human body right here and right now to end your problems against me and my company. If you're so desperate for my demise, then do it."

before he snapped his fingers for the men to kill me, the men suddenly splattered blood from all over their bodies, and they had been sliced to peices. I glance back at jaha, and he's gone. he appeared right in front of me with his blade full of crimson liquid, his eyes open back up at his enraged mien. The thought of jaha killing his own forces drives him with the intent to take so many lives out of that same hatred.

"What the hell is going on with you? What is-"

"Shut the fuck up. you're driven with the intent to kill my/ our enemy by committing heinous crimes such as torture and rape by proxy, yes. but I CHOSE to save him. my only reason isn't for naught. Because I crave a challenge from him, to finally be seen as a person that can match up to my strengths instead of being supremely dangerous enough to never be beaten. and that's mongrang unintentionally. every since we looked at each other when our blades were at the tips of our fingers and our palms at our necks just because of someone else's sickening authority."

this pathetic excuse of a human being growled in irritability.

"You agreed to the contract to join my forces. It's no way to turn back. So I give you two choices. go ahead and kill mongrang right here or regret ever murdering my men by inflicting torture upon you back at the company. everything you have is gone. If you refuse to kill HIM, then it's your decision. But you'll regret it."

"You can't give me that "torture if that contract has an option to quit the company altogether. this had always been your issue. to throw away the ones you trust most by your own selfishness. "

he scoffed fowl as jaha ripped off his company ID card with his bare hands.

"...suit yourself."

he stepped out of the parking lot, leaving jaha, mongrang, and lydia to remain in the soundless, water dripping, dull, impassive parking lot.

"You actually did it."

"Was sick of dealing with his shit. knowing him, he'll probably try to bribe me back. I just gave him a disadvantage myself by quitting, better yet... might kill me or you."

"You ok?"

"Yeah..let's just go."

I pointed one finger to get him to stop walking, I handed lydia a location of the nearest gas stations and my home just in case she needed any leftover weapons for protection. revolver, pump, machine gun, assault rifle, smg, dual pistols. anything she wants, she'll get. I stood up and waved her goodbye. her smile was full of hope instead of that looming despair she had minutes ago. we stepped out of the parking lot and into the eerie empty street.

"You know..."

"What is it, jaha?"

"When you declared that you cared for me right in front of his face back there. I felt something weird inside me. like a bunch of butterflies or small miniature bombs exploding in my heart as soon as I heard your voice so full of devotion to taking care of me when we got attacked, your mouth wasn't full of disgusting lies, it was the beautiful truth, your mouth spilled the truth when I was expecting a sticky tongue full of beautiful, manipulative lies. unexpected of you as the sex demon to put devotion and diligence for your enemy's wellbeing."

my heart pulsed at the soft-spoken words of the mad demon.

"Of course. you saved me from descent. and now I have helped you out of pain. but.. unexpected of you. as a mass murderer. To speak such sentimental words. even as one person who would go lengths just to kill a person in the method you desire."

"accurate. But I'm sane enough to decide what's right and what's wrong poopypants."

"you...have nowhere else to go. Do you?"

he just realized by the look of his eyes. I grasped his wrist and pulled him closer to my face, full of concern about his safety.

"Fuck. my bunker.."

"Here. stay at my place for a little while. Don't try to argue with me because I'm not letting you roam the streets on your own. I'm very aware you're physically powerful, but I need no more truama from the tanks, ok?"

"Fine."

we stride back to my home with a crushing sense of voidless silence as we walk back. I went closer to his palm intentionally to collide mine with his as a sense of contentment in our growing relationship from enemies to possibly friends with benefits and boundaries needed to follow. His fingers hesitated at first to collaborate together with my heated fingers, I didn't expect him to approve of my actions since it's his choice and I would support him of any choice he makes, and so he did, he slowly grappled mine in a tight but soothing squeeze. his palm has a bit of hardness to it, and his knuckles feel like anicent unbreakable stones in a spooky medieval cave with such a terrible history, that just shows the length of his mere physical strength by just a slick slide of his bones.

we got back to my home, the rope to lift up to the highest floor is still available to use.

"come up here."

he followed me to go up, and the bottom dissipated into mere black darkness. I wonder how I live with constant danger at my back meat. Lifting myself up with ease, I catch jaha's hand to finally introduce him to my home in the top level, multiple offices are either my food supplement, weapon storage, clothing and self care or just sleep when the days of fighting is temporarily pushed back so I can relax and sleep all day in this apocalyptic world.

"this is it?"

"Mhm. where I bathe is the downstairs level which isnt far. the bathroom downstairs is in the third door on the left in the hallway."

"Thanks. I just need a shower.."

I almost spoke the words I didn't want to say to him, I wanted to say, "Can I shower with you?" But of course, he wouldn't approve. He disappeared to the next bottom level right underneath my home. as I kept reminiscing, thinking, and pondering about jaha's current situation. isn't he going to be targeted for betrayal against his own? Isn't he going to be at war with his own forces? Isn't it implied any higher rank assassin or soldier who quits the company may receive a life full of hell?

I'm so concerned about him that it's not even funny. This is supposed to be the crazy demon. the lost loyal and trustworthy companion and murderer of their respective forces to win or lost, much more of a bet of 75% percent chance of winning by just including his combative training itself to peer at the pure glory of his hands soaked of that crimson liquid, the pure ecstacy of taming a intelligent beast by your authority. it's a addictive substance used to boost ego by the strength you were given to tame both me and him. jaha just broke out of his cage, but at what cost? what is it to him to go and roam free with no trouble to confront him about it?

I'll do whatever it takes to protect him from the dangers of his own forces for quitting onto an impulsive , sadistic, greed driven shit turd, I'll take a bullet to the chest to give him the opportunity to live and go, but why? Is my devotion or this burning fire of desirable love in me driving me to take eternal torture and truamatic insanity off another being's work just for him to go and live? is this war really needed if two of their most strongest are starting to become much more than bloodthirsty enemies? don't they understand the cost of trading many of their men to their descent out of pettiness, the dumbest thing ever? Or is it so much for a person putting laxatives onto my drink at a bar three years ago for me to be so devoted to enabling protection against their life?

he doesn't need protection. He can hold his own, so why am I such a...douchebag. for some reason, I began to feel the addictive sin of lust for him, the need to shove this man in a wall and brush my lips against his. if..he feels the same way. this isn't actual love. It's lust. lust is an emotion of both love and despairful pain. you can either do it and take the chances to go for it or feel the rejection. but still.. I can't. It's up to my company to decide whether he lives or dies. it's the same as his own subordinates.

as I snapped out of my delusional haven, he lifted back up with water dripped down his forehead with a clean towel across his neck, he sat down and pulled his hair" p to tie it into a bun. using my scrunchy to do it, I started to think of strangs of his black hair swirling around my scrunchy mixing with my own by the time I look at it to brush mine. I never examined his dampened hair before, but I wish to see it in my own eyes if he ever considered his choice for my hunger to show with a man like him. but too much intimacy means easier breakage in relationships. Putting too much trust is the greatest despair in betrayal.

"a...bun..?"

"Yeah."

we sat across from each other. he seemed to be waiting for my response.

"hm?"

" I know you got questions. So ask it."

"hm..."

His face had a hint of curiosity for a moment before his usual stoic demeanor returns to mask his actual beauty in his person.

"What's it's like to live in this society in your perspective?"

" ..as a assasin-"

"You're no longer an assassin. express your experience as a normal human being now. Let yourself be vulnerable for a moment. As your enemy. I won't be the type to kill you right here. But I'll be the type of person to protect you. I don't care if my company points the guns at you out of superstition or suspicion of your involvement around my personal life in these halls called my "home." I'll protect you in any way I can. even if a bullet goes directly into my flesh fatally. Understood."

"Yeah, so can I finish?"

his eyes widened slightly in a tiny bit of appreciation to my devotion to a person I'm supposed to kill but dimmed down to the dirty carpet to explain his own personal life before he quit.

"Life before I quit was easy, living in a bunker regarding my safety of living in the world is much easier to just relax and lower my gaurd in my home underground, while my occupation of assassinating your men out of a little bit of cash or small rewards that doesn't benefit myself is like giving 10 cent to a child only to get candy for delivering a forgotten mail to a neighbor but isn't enough to get you a handful. usually, I don't say anything about the rewards I get outside of the bunker. They only get protein powder products and drinks, philosophy, and martial arts books to me. nothing else besides that. so.. I feel much more..freed, content, safe, no longer do I have to sit and kill anything and everyone just for my completions to be neglected for."

"I see.."

"hench why I'm the most strongest. It's up to me to fulfill the boss's most darkest desires. A personal mission or an intel mission to be as stealthy as I possibly can to your company or any rival companies's plan to eradicate. so if I see to it that your company plans a mass assault if I didn't quit. Then it's predictable. Easy to anticipate. not only is intel important, but it can also be a weapon. the virtue of strength and intelligence in a person comes from teachings and from within...if your gifted."

his eyes showed everything there was to know, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But I feel like it's something there. Something lurking inside of them that needs to be brought out. and I'm afraid of that. I shouldn't pay attention to his intention, but it's something. a full-blown mystery i have to be the one to figure out.

"Does your boss.. I don't know, uh. interfere with business of yours."

"He somehow managed to figure out my past occupation of being the mad demon, my title in china before I moved to america. Right, he decided to completely decimate my companies of trading and production for a shitty deal. I had to give up the name of the "mad demon" because he threatened to murder my daughter if I didn't accept the deal to work with him under my archives regarding my combat prowess. And currently. I don't know where she is. I'm praying to some of our gods in hopes that she's safe."

"You have a daughter?"

he reached into his pockets to pull out a half burnt picture of his daughter.

"I do. Her name is yoran. I adopted her 3 months before the apocalypse started. she clunged to me right as the dystopian society we lived in got worse and worse to the point of this much destruction. but since he nearly killed my daughter as I accepted the deal. he also took her without elaborating where she was. even if I completed a mission when my kill count is nearly hundreds, then he still won't give me an ANSWER."

"I see..so you been through a lot. I liked the name "mad demon," so it's a shame."

resting his head on his legs, he still held up yoran's picture between his fingers as I analyzed the story behind it, she's in a amusement park with a big soft loaf of cotton candy on her small fingers, a smile full of joy as jaha is holding her right hand.

"she's adorable.."

"I don't know if she has a foster parent somewhere to take care of her. Or if she's just living on her own with no protection. but.. I still have a glimmer of hope left inside me. if I ever see her again, then I'm killing everybody who kept her hostage."

I took the paper from him to study the picture more.

"Your the only person taking care of her?"

"Yes. so?"

" If it's any glimpse or sighting of her appearance in the public. Then, if you'll agree.. how about we take care of her together?"

he snatched it away from me.

"do you even know how to take care of children?"

"Do you have the mental capability to take care of her? hench, why you're the mad demon?"

"....fine. I'll agree to take care of her along with you in the future. If we're lucky enough to get her back. he keeps gatkeeping her current conditions/ wearabouts. that irritates me the most about this job. now that I've quit. I can't have any intel about her."

"damn it."

he looked back to the black sky, gazing at the full moon.

"Sometimes I wonder if society can ever be built back up again. I wonder if you and me..are just pawns. just human pieces of shit dying together by the hands of our own. even if our relationship continues to expand. This is something that's forcing our hands to do."

"Jaha, you don't have to kill me if you don't want to, no matter what.. we are no longer bloodthirsty and hate driven enemies, but we're rather two individuals growing to learn each other's boundaries and perspectives of our own. If our companies self-destruct upon each other's useless kiddy wars, then that's not our problem if we live to see the end of their unfortunate tale. All that matters is us. I don't care if our worth in this world is nothing but to focus on living for also nothing. all it matters is us."

I raise my hand to his own in hesitation, hoping he would take it if he must or not. Something about this demon I long for is like a addictive pull to the depths of forbidden love. This forbidden love has delicious and tangy notes of toxicity, hatred, compassion, protection, mental strength, and rivalry. the rivalry of this relationship has no choice but to be thrown into the abyss, going deeper into the forgotten sea. he didn't take my hand, and I can respect that.

I pull back to sit beside him to look at the dark, despondent sky.

"This reality is never going to end."

"It sure isn't. newcomers better adapt to the radiation. but jaha."

"What?"

I leaned closer to his face.

"Do you trust me?"

" Hell no. what kind of question is tha-"

I grab him by the legs and lift him up to my shoulder, walking to the bed. I can feel his anger radiating off his warm body and I'm all for it, this is my time to be a smug little cunt just to tame him a little bit and knows what it's like to rest with someone for the first time.

"YOU FUCKER. LET GO-"

I rest him down softly as I laid right next to him.

"What's the reason for this."

"To annoy you. And to.. keep you warm from the coldness of this apocalypse. knitting a blanket out of desperation for warmth is a prime example even if I pricked my fingers multiple times and drew blood since I was never taught knitting. Will you...allow me to hold you? whatever decision you made is something I'll support."

I can sense his hostile conflict beyond my words. To be in the arms of his own nemesis? a dangerous move? But gleefully. he quickly gained his composure and agreed to let me hold up away from the freezing breeze of the city ruins. I guess the only option is to let me since I have nothing else to lay in to sleep or stay in comfort, I held his waist and his back, soothingly toasty in his tepid skin, I rest myself onto him as soon as I found jaha fast asleep onto the pleasant heat I carry. I scoffed softly at his exhaustion that I decided to sleep with his presence at my hand.

Dozing off into the gloomy dark sky. I find myself trapped in that same purgatory of infatuation, obsession, and love for this concept of danger I'm holding within my very arms, that same desire holding back and striking me down when the time is right to pour out all my remaining wishes to him if he..feels the same way. it's predetermined if his decision to fulfill my desires is a rejection or a yes of his own, just mincing its way out of his crazed, driven mind, but I shouldn't. I can't. not when he's so far into the abyss of danger so deep into the grounds of a bullet piercing through his crimson flesh, his veins, and his bones.

Fatal, unable to be saved out, redemption, heaven, and hell. two powerful men destined to go to the scorching hot depths of the torturous dark flames with a path of forbidden love and pain along that path to walk through, the needles of that pain piercing through your bare feet with his hand guiding me through the stinging sensation. Is it even worth it to see him as a person I trust and care for? I'm doubting my declaration. but why should I doubt it? is my sense of trust in one individual dissipating by the minute I shut my eyes and doze off into the dream world. Does he devote his trust to me, too? or is his unpredictability supremely wicked enough to purge our relationship with the poisonous, disgusting taste of despair and anguish. I won't let it force feed me that slop. I love him. I'll just simply hope my kindness to him eventually has him noticing the signs of love within me. no matter how much I hate him with his skill of drugging me with shit substances, i won't be able to lift myself off the seat with.

the hazy misty sunset of the radioactive wasteland rose up to set its brightness to my home. jaha isn't on the bed, but I smelt something delicious swarming around the hairs of my nose. I blink three times to set my sights of a small blanket beneath some light wood and a fire with some chicken cooking at the top of the heated blaze.

"What..- how in the hell did you get chicken..?"

"Did some scavenging. found a barn with a couple of chickens inside 15 minutes near the company and took one of them. I made you a plate. It has no seasoning but this is the best we can get. Made sure not to overcook."

"...wasn't you a waitress in a diner before you fell into madness and killed a bunch of people? a errand boy, to be precise."

he examined my face, spelled with mischief before he scoffed at me.

"I was. but being an errand boy teaches you one thing about society. people are never pleased, you can give them a piece of your soul or human brain and they still won't be grateful for your work. best to stick it to yourself instead of relying on others. all I did was to have an offer to sing a song to a rich but beautiful girl, but all I got was people spatting hatred at me while that same girl looked down on me like a bug. it isn't my problem anymore so it no longer matters."

"I see..and did she have any remorse or sympathy?"

"Of course. My feelings for her have vanished intentionally since the situation fucked me up a little bit once she apologized for everything. she didn't know I offered to sing for her instead of trying to "have sex with her" while somehow..she believed their lies instead of the last remaining innocence of my ragged, saddened words to defend something I couldn't fix while I was getting beaten. that's the entire story."

He offered three freshly cooked chicken wings to me as he gazes into the fire.

"You were accused of that? being written by lies for something you didn't do?"

"Yeah. I guess they couldn't accept anything between the relationship of a mere commoner serving people in a diner and a rich, ridiculously beautiful, wealthy woman, so these men were jealous and decided to tell lies out of the original truth. Most people would assume this is the origin of my insanity but it's much more to it as they think."

this isn't the origin of his insanity, but then again. his backstory is a lot to be investigated since my knowledge of his past is something I know nothing about, I take a large bite of the chicken wing before I can speak more.

"What's your origin?"

"The only thing I can share is my parents. they both died while I was a child. and I have no picture, archive, or photo of them holding me as a baby or even a growing child. only the memories I have of them. it doesn't hurt me. but it's sad in a way. The Lee family name.."

"..understood-"

"Aren't you part of the richer class mongrang?"

his crimson, carmine eyes observed my reaction. How did he know that? That I'm in the mong family? The richest class of the chinese public.

"Yes I am."

"Hm..interesting. so I have a quick question. If a kind-hearted commoner serving you.. was in love with your woman? what would you do? tell him to back off? Tell him that she's taken? tell him something unexpectedly offensive? tell me to serve me and my girl and stop being a pussy thirsty slob?"

"Me personally. I'd go for a more positive approach thank you. I don't see why this is relevant."

honestly, the fact that his eyes are still locked on me is telling me to just give him my true designated answer, I finish the last bite of the chicken wings before setting the bones on the napkin.

"Alright then. what's your approach?"

"Would tell the commo- waitress. yeah, waitress to politely say, "She's in a relationship with me. I'm so sorry. But you had your chance" and give him a small tip. that's the only thing I want to do. I mean.. if he's obsessive or can't accept rejection, then I might as well beat his ass in front of everyone for messing with the one I love. it's either protection or politeness or rejection. easy."

"and here I am simply expecting you to have multiple other phone numbers of women you found on timber because you have no ounce of loyalty in you. you would or wouldn't mind if your girlfriend found the waitress attractive unintentionally while your ordering your food."

"What is this about."

his sense of curiosity and irriation about my occupation of being rich class is visible and obvious from the start of his dead blank gaze, seeing his hunger for my answer. I'm clearly confused and aggravated by his assumption of my old ways. how I used to use and have sex with beautiful women by deceiving them by my mere manly beauty. he clearly wants to investigate me in the form of a question game. smart bastard.

"Nothing. I'm just not very sure you would beat the shit out of a waitress for lusting over your girlfriend. I'm pretty sure you would let her get his number while you have multiple behind her back."

"What is your PROBLEM. First of all. before this apocalypse began, I enjoyed the sick and gaping pleasure of pampering dick starved woman for my own personal ego/ gain, and I'm not proud of that. the entire situation got me insecure about my natural beauty and the fact that you're assuming all my past mistakes pisses me off. now that I've changed. I don't want to relive that again."

he was wordless for a moment before speaking with a hint of solemnity in his deep voice.

"You was insecure?"

"I was. I still am. that side of myself is something I'm so desperate to forget. how I was a player, breaking the hearts of these women and taking the virginity of many just to text another woman the next day. lewd messages, arguments, lust, desires, faces of despair and hurt..I was even happy about the catastrophic event that took place in our city because of my reputation and its all going to dissappear eventually due to all the murders. I was to forget about it."

I ran my hands through my silky brown locks out of the rampage of memories, replaying in my head continuously. jaha kept his mouth as he warms his body up in the fire, I noticed he shot glances at me every 10 seconds like he wanted me forget about everything he said. maybe a shower could pass the time since I'm starting to stink, but after everything that's happened. am I just supposed to heal everybody I hurt in a snap of a finger? Am I supposed to be this rich and attractive chocolate colored haired beauty taking the clits of woman and just rubbing them to every single hairy woman I know that's only good for sex? Am I just ready to move on? or do I need to do an apology tour? I'm terrible for that. and the old saying of the book is:

"You can never escape the past, only how it shapes you."

i-..that shouldn't be the only thing I focused on but it's so hard-

while I walked to the broken elevator, jaha bellowed to me: "Come here!"

I raised my brows in confusion to his sudden request, so I came back only to be met with a warm but firm hug from the maddening, captivating jaha Lee himself. This is a rare sighting from this man. to give a hug to his one true enemy? What is this about? At all of this. this hug shoved me so far to the nearest wall just for his palms to squeeze me gently.

"Wait. What are you-"

"I simply...apologize for my accusations. I never expected you to change after all this time since you always were the same since the day we met eyes. but now that I've seen a different side of you. Something inside of me grows more and more aggressive to break out and express what it is to you. It's pulling out of intestines and breaking out feral. and now..my neverending hatred for you seems to have an end. I no longer hate you. I trust you. I know I never apologize, but this time, I will."

his finger graze my chest, sliding up and down as an attempt to calm me down, he feel my rapidly thumping heart because of his body heat pressing against him in this hug. I almost see aroused, simmering with more lust than before when he kept me at arm's length just so our relationship could be the same to the people of our companies, as soon as I raised my arm to touch his waist then he backed up immediately.

"don't think our rivalry is going to end. I still need a challenge from you."

"...understood."

he walked back to the fire, warming his body up in the ground of my home. Damn I lose my chance..it isn't so bad to grow closer since I do want to be closer than ever before. I don't want to be at arm's length. I want to be at an inch near him. To touch, to grasp, to caress, to cradle. this is the beginning of something I'm afraid of. the beginning of forbidden love as I fell for him first. the time we ate smores, the time I healed his wounds by taking the bullet shards off his flesh. it's a continuous painful torture. and I can't escape it until all the desire in me had broken its way out of me. All the locks onto the door keeping this feral desire are shut, and it remains shut until i have the authority to find every single key, put it in the lockhole, and let it out. I still can't.

I kept my obsessive, pain filled gaze at his closed, relaxed eyes for a minute. every fiber in me is screaming in lustful agony. Every single cell in me is circulating and gushing, pumping speedily just so I can get what I want with no boundaries or obstacles in my way. of course, the path to getting what I truly need is a dangerous one. my breath is ragged. and my lips are quivering before I look back to the elevator to drop down to the shower rooms.

Walking in the downstairs hall, I find the shower rooms, and yet it comes back. jaha's strong manly aura remaining in the walls of the dripping wet washroom, undressing myself beginning to grow more lustful to alluring, resonating, and vibrant ripe manly scent coating my leftover soap bars as I turn on the water to drown myself in the hot water. it pours into the skin of my naked body as my mind is consumed by him. the idealistic standard of a man obsessed with one another - actually, it isn't a standard. It's a neverending poison corrupting your parts, not physically but mentally and psychologically. it continues to take the damage even if you don't feel it at times to someone who seems emotionless with you every time you're with them. It began to grow worse and worse.

Nothing in my authority has the ability to raise my nail and stop this poison with a cure. The cure is fulfilling my desires without reason or any thought, which is dangerous to do at any point in time or place. this is becoming hazardous. the dripping water sliding down my skin is making me think of his fingers sliding down. to the abyss of pure sexual tension. I cant..this is like experiencing rabies. my shower time was supposed to be longer than 45 minutes but I been in here for an hour.

Still gazing at the surging, bursting waters of the shower head. I slowly look down to my crotch, lips quivering and eyes in horror and desire for what I'm about to touch. my twitching member between my legs as my hand moved on its own, stroking the tip slowly as I felt controlled by a puppeteer, guiding my limbs to move and walk by their nimble fingers By an electric shock of pleasure. I bounce my head up and let out a soft moan. this is why I said this is hazardous. this is my rival. the person I should desire with hatred instead of this raging, furious lust exploding inside my fragile heart. But something in me can't. can't hate him,desire to kill him, can't do anything to harm him. this is too strong. This is too powerful, I can't handle this, and this is the only way.

my tip is pouring out a whitish grayish subtance as it's nonstop twitching uncontrollably every gesture and stroke I make to give into the pleasure to please myself over somebody else. Is this the sin of lust? Something I never truly embodied within my spirit, Something that is considering to be addictive at first but horribly painful in the end. mongrang. What the absolute living fuck are you doing to yourself right now?

I bite my lips in ecstacy. doing more than just stroking the tip. My trembling hands moved up and down upon my shaft, giving into the lust with a strong ripple of embarrassment and terror for my own actions. I can't control. My member swells within my hands but turns out: every memory I try to think of inside my head is only blocked with thoughts about jaha's mere aural presence. full of stoicism and confidence, full of menace and badassery, full of strength, intelligence,and superhuman abilities, full of love and compassion for the people he saves in the lower class, full of sass and personality, full of humor and different levels of mistreat. This is insane. it doesn't feel right, but it does feel right.

My hand moved faster, my mouth intentionally letting out a symphony of soft moans and ragged gasps, pants, and whimpers, my mind whirring his beauty, his personality, his strength, his intelligence, his battle iq, EVERYTHING.

eyes rolling back drowning in the sultry rush of emotions. I feel it coming out in bursts. some form of an incoming climax of a bomb exploding right near you right before it exploded. I saw a note slip under the door, snapping me out of it instantly. i quickly turned off the shower and dressed myself before opening the note. I think about what I was doing, and then I felt guilty about it. nearly embarrassed. I should never share this with anyone. EVER.

I read the note, and it's written by the sword demon.

"mongrang. I have to notify you about this. But your enemy's company set some of our industry, production companies on fire. So, in case of that incident recently, we're starting an early war, and preparations are in due time. it starts next month, so it's best to train yourself while you still can. our men had to collaborate with some military forces, and our individual elite men had to be trained extra for the damage caused. best to upgrade your weapons while you still can since our production in metal and resources have been cut off completely. your still one to that mission right?

To target their most strongest? Time is up. you have to kill him either in the last day of this mouth or kill him in less than two weeks, or else you'll be in for a lot of trouble. refrain from sharing your personal data with him. getting...smores won't exactly be ideal. Good luck.

P.S. Our secretive investigation of that criminal group is ongoing, but the results haven't come in yet to their wearabouts since their initial headquarters have been left emptied.

-Sword Demon."

I clenched the note in disbelief. his enemy's company has been plotting war crimes against mine? But what about our relationship? What about our recent declaration and trust between this friendship is lost pieces of a discontinued puzzle? And yet.. It's a mix between never caring about the consequences of caring for my long-lived nemesis and caring about the consequences of my own life, including his to be exact.

the bottom of the note said: "Go to the middle of a city ruins to face the challenge and defeat the enemy."

I got into my normal clothes before going up to the higher level of the building to meet jaha once again, closed eyes as he observed the abandoned broken structures and the barely visible sun. god, he looks so goddamn beautiful. I suddenly just remembered the horrid crap I did earlier in the middle of the shower. am I supposed to approach him normally after that just happened? It's my fault since I acted upon my own desires for longing.

I sat behind him, reluctantly ignoring my thoughts. warming my hands in the fire as I watch his relaxation to the apocalyptic atmosphere, silence is deafening and noiseless. only the sounds of our soft breathing fill it with meaning instead of meaningless. I want to conversant. Before it lasts as our relationship might break while nobody is at fault for breaking the glass picture of a married couple. never point the fingers at anybody for something that is or isn't by control or by authority if the married couple wanted to keep the picture there for pride of their successful relationship dispite the worldwide bullshit of whores.

"are you ok?'

"Yeah. reminiscing."

"About?" I answer in curiosity.

"...mind your business."

I start to subject that feeling in me as some kind of assumption. a superstitious accusation of what he's thinking about. he's being secretive, but I can't force him to share anything about his personal life or even his occupation. hungry curiousity can be a blessing and a curse, but since he quit his mafia company. He shouldn't have anything to worry about other than the point of survival.

"mongrang."

"?"

"I sensed a presence here. did someone give you a note. If so.. what did it say?" He commented while turning his back to warm himself up in the shower.

"..."

I shouldn't tell him. but why does he want to know that?

"it just said..a upgrade onto our company."

"...I see."

I inspected his mild disbelief at my lie filled words. My questions for him are something I can't hold in for much longer.

"Do you feel anything for me?"

"What kind of fucking question is that-"

" I need the truth."

I sense his irritation as I forced his hand to tell the truth. but within that irration. it's growing and resonating like a blooming flower.

" I do. I do..are you happy? I feel something every time I see you. I won't disclose it yet since it's struck behind me, whipping me out of pain but..desire."

"You want me to share something I believe will have you baffled and possibly...aroused."

"Ok? say it."

It took all my courage to say what I think im going to say.

"I touched myself over you. eariler in the shower. I felt...so much. It's unbelievable how much lust I felt..over you. but.. good thing I got interrupted because I would've been seeing sparkles in my vision right now if I ever... didn't stop myself from finishing what I was doing to myself. You control me. and it's dangerous to feel this way about you even if we have to kill each other. It's truly terrifying to be harboring so much lust over a man I'm supposed to hate..i-isnt that just..odd? Jaha Lee.

the man that I used to oh so hate because of your crazy bullshit with shit drugs.

The man who gave it the all to murder my forces.

The man who matches me alike in terms of power.

The man I long for, instead of hate.

the man who I saw again and again for so long out of bloodlust or anger. that all changed.."

I didn't expect his reaction, but he seemed almost... shocked? his facial expression spelling his desire for me as well but is too stubborn to show his beautiful face to me. I waited for his response. Just like an obedient lovesick fool would do.

"That's honestly surprising to me for the sex demon to be so infatuated for a man like me..but your fucking insane for touching yourself. I won't complain but geez."

"Sorry.. I got too carried away on my own desires."

"It's fine."

jaha snapped the fire away with a mere hand gesture, leaving only the light dirty brown misty sky to be the only source in the room. But why did he put out the fire? he studied my reactions with a smile? Is he pampering me? This man I used to hate so much with every rapid beat of my heart with the disgusting and uncomfortable feelings of surging and gushing hatred inside this beating heart is now replaced with a pounding of longing, mixed conflict between our occupation requirements, and the final feeling is pure NEED.

overly dramatic enough, he still kept observing me, hawking at me like a bird before the atmospheric tension changed to something.. more sensual. maybe this is it. maybe this is something I craved from him. maybe he desires me, too. almost like he kept it inside him for so long enough to be psychologically and physically damaging. It damaged me to the point of touching myself out of it. It's damaging him in ways that can not be described. His ways of dealing with it are unknown, but I have yet to know in due time that I can see it in his gaze. and so my heart continues to pound.

He went closer, keeping his gaze into my eyes.

I felt everything that I tried so hard to hide. I'm afraid to say it but I'm in love.

his hands lightly touched my flushed cheeks. no words were spoken. actions speak louder than words, and jaha did that mere definition of that infamous old saying, I felt his hot breath near my lips as he moved closer to pressing his body against mine on the wall. I felt so...madly obsessed. so brainwashed, so in love, insanely and mentally crazed. it can not be helped. my body kept screaming for him, my mind scrambled into pieces, my eyes telling everything I was afraid to say as he held me onto the wall, trapping me, forcing me to face what I want all along, forcing me to entwine.

And so the final act began by his hand, his lips pressed against mine roughly, smearing his chapped lips onto mine in that aggression I love so much every time we fought, that one time 5 years ago in a nightclub when we fought in the middle of a casino private game room, I slammed him down into the bar and pinned his wrists to the woody table before stabbing me in the arm to get me off. this is exactly that reference to this kiss. he slowly entered his tongue inside my mouth, and I let him give full access just to take me to the edge and beyond.

I held my own in this aggression. His slight grunts make me crave for him more and more. I grab his hips roughly and pulled him more to the warmth of my body, I finally got what I wanted, but at what cost? the consequences of our occupations are going to get us both killed if our lust for each other's presence. But if jaha is by my side, then I won't have anything to lose. our tongues slither like snakes to taste each other's flavors as I open back up my eyes to see the saliva pooling down to his neck all the way to his collarbone. I push even harder, deepening this rough kiss by taking his authority away from this. I switch the sides to push jaha in the wall.

handling his wrists. his grunt of disapproval rattled in my mouth as I felt his hands trembling by my authority in this, by my domination, secretly enjoying it as my tongue continued to taste everything. this desire... this tension filling our senses subconsciously tells me jaha had been feeling this way, for I don't know how long? it's funny. I thought I was the only one. this attractive bastard kept it in like a person keeping in their intrusive thoughts.

I left his lips with a soft wet pop. we both sucked our air back in because we were breathless. jaha wiped his mouth, covering his entire face except his eyes scowling at me.

"What the fuck..."

"You didn't like it when I get all dominant since you're so used to being top."

I grasped his wrists more tightly at this. this fucker didn't seem that mad but at the same time he did.

"..."

"So do like it.~

"I didn't say that."

"I have a question. what is our relationship now? change of topic?"

I stared back into his eyes, wondering about our relationship. The worry complained in the back of my head, and they won't shut the fuck up. They keep knocking at the back of my head, being like an annoying little kid wanting extra candy late at night in a Halloween night, this shouldn't be intent since the raging desire in me had burnt down to merely a small flame but I have to ask out of my own curiosity.

"What is this? is this a hate-love relationship? we tried to end each other in our past, humiliate and destroy each other at any chance we get by hatred or by command of our own. you hated me more than ever. why did you suddenly change your idea towards me despite our rivalry."

" I knew you had a change of heart when you saved me. you didn't have any intention of killing me as i dissected every single point of your actions by contributing to my health and well-being. I analyzed you as far as I can do, and now I see your confliction of our company's war threats is going to jeopardize our relationship as we're supposedly to be enemies. I contribute to nobody. The only reason why I quit is to live for jaha Lee. even if this society of ours makes our existence meaningless, then it's worth living as long as you survive to live for yourself."

that powerful statement shook me to the bone as his expression was genuine, but doesn't he consider our relationship as I'm the only one in here that's still in a fugitive company out to get him?

"What are you going to do if my company tries to.."

"Take me on. I'll die trying."

"You shouldn't regard your safety like that. you haven't answered my questions whether if we're lust driven enemies." I breathe those words near his neck as I place light kisses on his rough skin.

"I say I'd love you, and I hate you. you feel the same, too. when we used to argue so much about diarrhea and how I publicly humiliated you in front of a girl that you've liked~ Your reactions were mildy hilarious."

"You find my suffering entertainment?" I continue to place small wet kisses onto his neck.

"Yeah. so it's both. it's a toxic mix with a hint of sweetness in its flavor. that sweetness is your comfort in finding my intent mysterious but uncaring since lust consumed you so much." I heard him sigh at my kisses as I lifted my head up to gaze at him at that same lustful intent.

"fuck I love it when you sway individuals with your words of surprising intellect. don't you understand my hatred for you is slowly dissolving into meaningless pieces of paper as I'm supposed to pick back up all the pieces and keep it? How am I supposed to hate you if I can bring myself to do it?"

"change of heart to me, you could've left me to die at that moment of spitfire by that horrendous tank but no. You chose to save me by healing me after I saved you back."

I'm persistent in giving him that desire, but his sights and his grunts at my light kisses fulfill me enough.

"Exactly. I was there. You also had that drive to save me, didn't you?"

"...no. simply felt like it."

"In that case..do you enjoy it when I kiss you..?~"

his entire demeanor changed from the moment that spat out of my seductive tone, my grip on his wrist shut tightly so he wouldn't push me off just to deny this all. defiant madman.

"hm. Yeah. I won't lie since that's clearly what you hate."

"You know everything I hate about you. Including your lies. such an analytical bastard you are. Case in point.~"

"Are you trying to have sex with me? i can literally feel it. Just a question. "

my smirk grew wider at his question.

"Maybe I am. Do you want to take that chance?"

"Hm. No. so how you proclaim this lust you feel?"

"What are you talking about?" he caught my hand slipping down to his lower body as he didn't seem to care.

"Isn't it all the time or sometimes? some parts of your energy every time you are around my presence is just either enforced self-control or just a facade to you. I wondered why or how this happened."

"Came..out of nowhere..that's my honesty. it hit me straight in the face and left a permanent mark. I wonder why also..why I just.."

he pushed my hand out of his bare skin.

"Calm down. we can't. Not for right now. we got jobs so we must rest."

He stepped away from me just to lay on my bed. My hesitation to grab him more and feel his warmth is making my fingers twitch erratically, my self control is slowly coming back as I started to realize the gravity of our relationship. he came to a point when I lust for him and he lust for me too dispite the fact that we can't be together whatsoever. I breathed in and out slowly as I looked at him on the shoulder to see his gaze at the full moonlight behind that mist.

I stare right back at the beauty of the full moon shining upon the despair ridden, abandoned, purged city ruins, same as my window laminating at my floor. I feel completed, but not yet filled with that same completion. with love. There's sacrifice. with love, it's imperfection of two, with love, you have to do the right thing for the one you're obsessed with. but the truth hurts. this isn't love. its lust. And lust is a dangerous addictive sin cursing humanity with its joyous ecstacy. my actions of falling in love with this man is all desire and not real, raw love out of me. but isn't that not surprising?

My former life before the apocalypse was to mess with women's emotions about love and lust before breaking their hearts peice by peice as their tears represent every part of hurt they feel, I still can't forgive myself for that. but for jaha. It's different. he's full of honesty and lies, speaking the truth even if men have a hatred for straightforwardness. I also wonder everything I did for him. I question everything.

terrible fucking habit, I slowly walked to the bed, laying beside him. I noticed he's distant, trying to regard our enemies to lovers/ lovers with the fine print contract problems by turning his back to the lust we felt earlier, that's understandable. I won't blame him since this is also consuming the depths of my small pinkish whitish brain. While this situation is blocking our path to entwining with each other's boundaries and consent. I still want him as badly as I want things to go back to normal. I slowly reach out to his waist and squeeze him even though he's fast asleep. I close my eyes, squeezing him like he's the one thing that's important in my entire life. something surprising happened.

his hand squeezed mine.

Further proof, he feels my presence beyond his maddening dreams of probably murder and war. I blink my eyes open and closed before falling right to sleep, exactly like a baby sleeping on his/her mother's warmth, jaha is my warmth. I love him. More than anything. love him more than I loved any slut choosing me to fuck their holes like a obedient man whore. a playboy.

more than my parents, more than I value my entire life, goodnight jaha Lee.

-short timeskip- ( next morning, basically)

I stirred awake to see jaha out of bed. I watched him pull on his gas mask, wearing the same clothes last night, just to go somewhere unannounced as I was asleep. his hands raised up to press his fingers to the handle of his gun, reloading it with fresh bullets. I forgot how perceptive he is by noticing me staring at him like he has eyes in the back of his head, gazing at me in the shoulder by those attractive bulbs.

"where are you going?"

"to check on lydia. can't have a single mother with children survive temporarily in this society."

"Be safe ok?"

I watch as his hair poofing out of his gas mask sway in a mixed rhythm along with his hips, each step he took drives himself further and further away from me. He's detached as always as he didn't say anything to me back, dropping down to the first level out of my home while I'm left with burning curiosity to what he's about to do with lydia. In the time being: I should search for some food near the company or get those chickens from a farm he mentioned by nourishing myself a better meal rather than consuming processed cancer infused foods.

I clip on my gas mask and leave.

-Jaha's Pov-

should I tell him the truth? this is utterly vile. the company boss instructed me to grow closer closer to mongrang and then backstab him by jabbing the knife to the core of his human body and then looking at him directly in his pain filled eyes as I twist it. bringing him more agony than before his departure to the netherworld. by our growth of turning from two bloodhungry enemies loathing each other's mere existence and concept to lovers. ish. this is supposed to be my mission even if I quit my respective mafia facility. if I do kill him. my company would have an advantage. I don't want to do this. but I have to. he's trusting me more and more to the point of more pain at fulfilling this. I'm being honest. His self hatred of his past is something I can respect. I can remember his actions fondly.

we were blazing hatred and conflict at each other once our mission to be in the same mansion for 1 week is pure torture. one night. he brought a girl over to the mansion, and he did this on purpose purely because he was next door. He had sex with the bitch. fucking her so hard enough to scream his name at the top of his lungs. but the fact that he hates himself for doing something like that is unexpected but valid. any man would be arrogant enough to excuse their actions by their physical appearance or just make up a stupid excuse but he was honest.

I walk to the back of the company, seeing a gaurd holding the door open for me.

I walk in to see the boss, a smug look as I sit down.

"You noticed the letter I sent you, hm? some of my reporters had informed me you and mongrang had been sleeping together before she slipped the note under the door. care to tell me why you quit only to be with the enemy? Did you forget about your mission?"

"I never forgot about the mission. my purpose of quitting is to live for myself. this is my life, so if I chose to sleep with the person I USED to hate, then so be it. Our relationship grew enough to render us lovers. you told me to go along with the mission whether I quit or stay."

his breath grew ragged, holding in his rage as much as he can.

"Yes, I did. news flash. I don't care about your ridiculously boring maddening life. your refusal to deal the damage to their most formidable is much irritating to see. if you even taste the sickening flavor of despair and remorse for sticking the knife out of his flesh once the damage is done. suck it up. the reward out of the hurtful damage is an advantage and winning out of cheating. people are stupid when they care about someone. Just like your being stupid."

"Did I ever agree to the terms of this mission."

"You don't have the authority to argue. yes. You agreed to the terms, and now you have to suffer the consequences of being with the person you eventually have to betray for us to strike and kill everyone of their forces with ease."

I chew on the pen, staring at his faltering smile as he expects his words to bust through me and hit me out of fear but I feel nothing.

"Hehe.. let me ask you one question. if I ever considered killing him. would you believe his death is ever going to bring mongrang's company down the drain? do you think they completely rely on his abilities to win these wars? consider observing their increase in weaponry and their strategy to decimate your facility in a flash. the enemy can be stupid at first but can get increasingly more intelligent as you observe their behavior in leadership."

"Don't see how any of this is relative to our priorities to destory and take control."

the stimulating odor of this man's cigarette huffed out of his breath in a small visible smoke.

"Did you ever think about the entirety of this?"

"Your saying?"

"Don't you think mongrang is assigned the same mission to secretly stab me in the back out of selfish reasons and kill me just to benefit this sickening company?"

"...."

"So.~"

his realization is hilarious.

"That means we'll kill each other..dispite the forbidden love we harbor as a way to create more despair in the relationship by grabbing our pocket knives and going inside the meaty flesh of our backs. Due to the frustrating term to inflict more pain onto each other by lust and hatred... this is all orchestrated by you, isn't it?"

that cigarette stinking up his breath fell out of his mouth onto the hard wooden table, sizzling by the bud. he knew I was right about that. two individuals made to kill each other from the start without the pathetic realization that this causes both ends between our companies. it's humans on a leash, and the one who's controlling the leash is the gods themselves since they have the authority to let us out our animalistic cages/ leash to let us fight to survive by gifted intelligence.

"Surprising? figured this out from the start. this is suicide for ours. pairing two powerful fugitives to kill each other but failed to realize the cost of sending us both to slit each other's throats. this is also about you. If I didn't quit, then you'll use me. and they'll use him."

"Then why are you choosing to stay with him if you know about all of this nonsense. are you that I'm love with him and his ecstacy as the sex demon to be feeling the sharp cuts of despair when you two end each other's lives?"

"You forgot we're controlled."

"Controlled? Ah-"

I pick up the cigarette's bud, sticking its sizzling dissipating bud on his forehead.

"Yes. You corporate sloths use and use those you see who are important to your work, take and take when it's nothing left to take, kill who you want to kill, and steal who or what you want to steal. we are the mere definition of that. even if we don't want to kill each other, then it's not a choice we get to decide. such gods to control someone's choices, decisions, and entire goals of a human life. This is what's wrong with the world. so much..abusive authority."

"Then answer my question, jaha. are you in love with him?"

he looked slightly intimidated as I glanced down at him at the question, flicking the cigarette off his forehead to the place of his lap.

"I am. subconsciously. are you going to use that information to build yourself a plan? here's the thing you son of a bitch."

my finger dragged through his face to open up his eye socket, his red pumping veins and black pupils looking directly at me in shock.

"we'll survive. and watch the two burn down each other's forces, companions, units, and buildings with a big bag of popcorn at our hands, ravaging the buttery sensation and the crunch as I consider letting mongrang live. in hopes of our fate not being destined for demise. far enough ft a pathetic albano monkey like you to see my future as disposable only because you think your existence is god. your NOTHING without this wealth. kiss my ass goodbye as I'll be the one to spit on your grave."

"You absolute...what side are you on? Mongrang's side or my side?"

I open his socket harder just to bask in the concept of our eyes basically being windows to the souls.

"I'm at nobody's side. I'm living for myself."

"mongra-"

"He can be my side at any time. I'll leave it to his own decision."

I let go of his socket and started to step out of the vicinity. his pleading voice stopped me on the tracks.

"Wait. If you'll agree to join my company again and help me destory the enemy, then you're gifted a million dollars. It's how much you want/ how much you need. please.."

" I don't care about money. I'm better off learning more and more how to survive in this damaged society than rather be wealthy. oh and..one more thing."

"what?"

he flinched as my whole demeanor changed from calm to menacing, filled with murderous intent. gripping my fist so hard, blood started seeping out of my fingers.

"where is yoran?"

"...if you really want the answer. she's in another city in a small orphanage, being taken care of. her health is 100%, and her mental state is good. no psychological effects from the apocalypse/ doomsday had been detected. don't worry about her. I'll give you her location of the city if you'll work for me."

" desperate. thanks for the updates."

I left, walking back into the street. Only to see mongrang at the side of the street carrying bags of food and a handful of dead chicken.

-Back to mongrang's original pov-

I heard everything. he didn't even consider my name to live this life with him. why hasn't he killed me yet since our influence on each other's toxic love is inflicting the behavior of his actions. I'm not mad, but I'm rather confused. The point of jaha's intentions is to let my presence around his life as he wants to live on his own. so he's basically letting ourselves free to stick to our devoid soulless survival life during this forbidden love of ours.

"...what are you doing here?"

"I thought you were checking on lydia."

"I lied. I been invited to a meeting with the boss."

his hands clamp at the core of my mouth underneath the gas mask and push me to a storage room of an abandoned food production facility to keep our personal information quiet. the black moldy spots and a rotting scent of trash and expired milk.

"You had a meeting. How did you get it?"

"It was in the middle of the night. while we were asleep. I heard a note slip under your door, so that's how I came here in the first place."

"I have a lot of questions of this entire ordeal."

my voice spoke, a hint of pain in its tone.

" it seems like you don't care about me. after all the times we spent on each other's wellbeing. worrying about our safety in living in this horrible destroyed society of ours just for you to stick it to my decision to live the rest of my life with you as you never seemed to think about it yourself.."

"I never said I didn't care. I didn't want to be the one to control your own decisions and goals in your mind since we're both humans. We have intentions to live or intentions not to live in this depressive post apocalypse. if you assume I don't think about all the times we've cared for each other despite our past encounters in two different demeanors completely opposite of our assumptions to each other, then you're wrong. I don't just want to live for myself since that's my intention after this civil war between two humans that are the same. I want to live for a purpose."

"Oh ok so this idealistic purpose and need to live at our point is just a young asian man roaming around this dead city that's used to be mafia alone..? No food, no water, no home, no family, no daughter? Is that your intention to do after you took the chance to kill a person who actually loves you for who you are!?"

his breath hitches at my words, his stoicism slowly crumbling.

"If we're able to escape the uncontrollable addiction of greed and horror of abusive authority in this destroyed society by taking both of us to the depths of hell whom blades stabbed each other intentionally but unintentionally by the hands of these vile assholes. I do expect myself to be alone. I can accept my life as having subordinates and companions. but this is life or death. we still don't have a choice. not while you're still my enemy.

not while I have nothing. no units, no forces. No, anything after I quit. Even while I'm stuck with trying to survive along with you. I still don't have a choice. This isn't forbidden love. it's love with obstacles, paths full of pain and anguish, and our divided forces."

"If you want to take my life, then do it. fulfill yourself with it. embrace the mere fact that you've just killed someone who is in love with you. who wants to be with you, who wants to explore intimacy and boundaries with you. love can be at the deepest darkest places of this planet but yet can't find the small speck of the love you want in that darkness. I just want you."

my eyes softening up to make it clear I'm genuine.

"We cant..I can't. Can you see that? life or death isn't a multiple choice test in school. it's a choice depending on the lives of your loved ones or your own family? why do you think we both haven't killed each other yet? we're so... wrapped up in our own emotions, too blind to know this can't work. no matter how hard you try to push me to fall more and more down to the abyss, awaiting danger. we're so caught up onto our feelings, our hearts, everything. yet it still can't work."

" I'll find a way to make it work myself. because I'm not going outside into the world without the mad demon whom I am in love with, to guide me through the path of no more mind numbling murdering of people and repetitive life cycles. I'll be a reckless bastard if the only chance I get out of feeling true love is bullshitery and divided hatred. Even if our divided companies I don't care for fall in destruction. then I still want you."

"We can't. Are you understanding or not?"

My hands hesitated before deciding to grasp my hands to his.

" I understand well. control is temporary, it's trivial, it's destructive and devastating for the innocent and the lower class of society, it's beautifully joyous to those who want that control to make people bow to their mere grasp. this control we both go through as not just similar enemies. But it is destorying the foundation of our relationship as I desire to progress it to a higher level than before. understand our strength as being our single individual weapon used for the purpose of crushing them."

"You forget our companies have a entire army."

"When was the last time you killed hundreds, jaha?"

"a short while ago."

my eyes full of determination and affection, grasping his hands slightly tighter as I believe this to be real and I want it to happen. the foundational system of love's cycle upon humanity's behavior gives a feeling of stupidity upon just...throwing a limb for the person you love dearest in your entire life.

"Maybe we have a chance. I'm giving us an opportunity to strike back upon these rich and powerful mafia assassination companies, seeing us as rare diamonds out of an underground cave just to throw us at war, expecting us to be invincible at the horrors of the apocalyptic battle field. Just so our relationship can expand more. grow more, develop more. I hate to admit it despite the fact you gave me a horrible, agonizing case of diarrhea years ago in front of the girls I was PRETENDING to like. But..I'm hopelessly and utterly in love with you. so much, in fact. just like we expressed our desire back at my home. But I'll keep it real. I want to be with you. I want all of you. I want every single inch of you. personality wise, body wise, appearance wise, intelligence wise, cunning and intimidating wise. All of the FUCKING wise.

The reason I initiated the plan to destroy our own is because im so sick was tired of having to deal with this constant drama, wars, and bloodshed, so sick of being unable to get closer to you as soon as the rush of these emotions first began."

he was shocked at first when I confessed to him, he nodded in acceptance of my love and to my plan.

"Love you too.. I approve of the plan."

"..never thought this would happen to us. but..you stay safe. I got to go back to my company for any updates on the civil war problem."

"Alright."

I slowly stepped back, hesitantly, giving a jaha a small affectionate smile before leaving to the direction of my company, I could feel his eyes still staring back at me. and it isn't worry or indifference. it's actual compassion in that expression. I can sense it. I was so blunt to be confessing my desire to him like this, but this is finally the climax. the explosion in my soul when I'm openly done hiding my own emotions away from him, even though he's a asshole to many, and an icy mass murderer with strength unmatched to most that's what is attractive about him. His flaws don't bother me one bit. all I want is him.

I step back into the company lobby, seeing the sword demon consult to a charcoal battered blacksmith with multiple handmade guns and weapons onto his hand.

"Aye."

"Your back. Where have you been?"

"...taking care of Lydia. what's going on in the company?"

he eyed at the blacksmith, signaling him to leave, and so he did. Getting back to work.

"we're setting up preparations for the civil war. our blacksmiths are putting in work to create the blueprints to what perspective our master wants us to use while fighting in the middle of battle. so most of us are occupied at the moment. anything about their most powerful assassin as in intel? I heard one of our city Intel reporters saw you and jaha spend more time together than usual. Is that true?"

"no."

"Can you prove it?"

My hand slowly balled into a fist. God, why do I have to hide my relationship with him like I'm hiding my boyfriend away from a homophobic Christian family? I don't want to lie, but I have to. I spoke with a slightly ragged voice:

"I've been helping him go back to his company since the mist makes it harder to see. and also the direction to his individual company is like a maze around the city ruins. So."

"...fine. make sure to upgrade your fighting equipment before you do anything else. Oh and boss has a another mission for you."

I sighed in irritation.

"What's the mission..?"

"He needs you to go outside of the city ruins. like into the wilderness to gain intel on current plant/ food life regarding resources from outside the apocalypse. the point of the mission is to camp and see your experience in survival and food nourishment. Including the information given back to us. go ahead and upgrade. I got to talk to the boss. I'll give you a discount."

"Thanks man."

I walk into the heat, the burning smell of melting iron and metal, watching the sword demon go to the direction of the boss's office. I place my weapons and my guns down on the blacksmith desk before having the curiosity to see why he's visiting him. I walk to the office, making sure nobody is around to see me pouncing around private conversations. I press my ear on the door to hear their voices. I overheard:

"He always lies to me straight to face. mongrang is clearly in love with our enemy, the one who's much more of a dangerous liability to your forces than we thought were true, the one who's strength in inhuman. I thought you were better than to send him constantly on missions instead of having him train better to give us a victory..! The intel reports says right on the dot that they're much more of a love grown relationship than we anticipated. Should we just call quits?"

"Calling quits because of a gay love relationship or is it just your own worries in your own subordinate being hurt and broken by asking him to kill the man he loves? Aren't you the one who asked him to hurry up and kill him before the civil wars come into play? You always don't make sense. I don't even bother asking a mere blacksmith to know any better than common sense."

his voice rose slightly louder at his boss.

Yes. But-"

"Then it's no point trying to work out personal issues created by two beings we control. they can hurt each other and suffer the same despair by a sacrifice, but it's always pain in the depths of love. by our authority resides pain in their love. I don't care if mongrang is so deep in this love that he'll kill himself if he even was to actually kill jaha by his hands. all it matters is that we WIN."

his cigarette lifted off his mouth, letting out a breath of smoke.

"You and...him..are brothers, are you? You and our main enemy? The man who issued his own forces to kill hundreds to thousands of our units, including jaha and his destructive capabilities in combat and melee weaponry? The intel on your backstory is hidden deep beneath the stairs of our secretive archive, stored in a cabinet of the boss's personal information regarding your parents and relatives. your...his brother. you're our enemy's sibling.."

"And why did you feel the need to look into the archived without permission?"

his charred, thin lips took the cigarette to the tip of his mouth once again, exhaling a cloud of cancer.

"I needed the reasoning why you're doing all of this. Were you two corporate billionaires made to rivalry with each other due to family favoritism and abuse? Is it a possible truama? is it an insecurity to be born with a secondary brother possibly taking away the empire you were destined to obtain from the start of your first cry? All the evidence to prove your blood related family had been demolished. almost like you burned it. The only thing that is left is "two siblings" at the side of the paper and information your family had done before the apocalypse. Mass murder, torture, cartel, mafia, drugs.."

"It will be better to shut your mouth then rather dig deeper into my origin story. What I want is a flawless victory in this civil war. a clash between the ying and the yang. two opposites. I don't care if mongrang's despair for killing the one he loves is jeopardizing his work and his life as a whole. this victory is ours. If you have anything to say, then you can leave. The preparations are nearly complete. until then..do your job."

he sighed in resignation. leaving the office.

I hide behind the door, but he doesn't seem to notice me. But..are you kidding me? brothers? despair? Flawless victory? so this entire fight we have been having for years is nothing more than a pointless sibling rivalry over unknown reasons?

[amphiptere-art]

This is a info post for my red, blue, and black AU until I get a proper character art to pair it with.

So my red blue and black AU is a Sun and Moon show AU. Duh.

First I'm going to post quirks about each character that will be explained later.

Eclipse

Eclipse is two AI merge together. One similar to blood Moonb(red moon) and one similar to lunar (Sun copy).

The red moon AI coding causes eclipse to have a very simplistic, rhyming, sort of speech.

Eclipse will kill any sort robot similar to tsams-eclipse. If you were an AI that invaded a sun's mind or your name to eclipse in your universe. He will hate you.

Is often prone to more physical bursts of happiness. Ergo imagine the let's get crazy for New Year's kid.

Considers the computer is adoptive dad

Goes by blue moon when traveling universes.

Moon

Is much more into his work. Ergo his technology making and marketing.

Will act very animal like with possessions or places that are his.

Switches between somewhat calm and somewhat scary crazy.

Will often use suns ESA cat. Maybe even more so than sun.

Sun

Has lots of nightmares. Lots of nightmares.

Is easily prone to short bursts of anger.

Will have moods where he will refuse to give people their proper names.

Switches between having anxiety attacks to trying to manipulate you to buy him ice cream.

Has an ESA cat.

A lot of what is said below can be inferenced from this post.

In this universe tsams-Eclipse AKA Moon's leftover kill code. Instead of becoming tsams-eclipse became a part of Sun. Changing his personality to be more like one he when searching for tsams-eclipse. Although not entirely like that. he suffers from frequent nightmares. Being snarky, conniving, and downright a manipulator in some situations. Although his previous personality does show out with anxiety attacks, a general nervousness to be useful and other such traits that sun has now.

Moon of course wasn't exactly a fan of this situation. Blaming himself like he does in the show. But life continues on like normal. Imagine the Sun and Moon show except for the majority of the time Sun is an ass. Until Moon's kill code starts to show up.

This is where a lot of things change and a lot of me taking an inferences happens.

I like to think tsams-eclipse acts almost entirely like moon times and I believe Moon shows traits of tsams-eclipse all the time. Ergo moon might do things tsams-eclipse have done. Ergo moon starts making different AI to help him with sun and with himself.

Basically at first he creates a blood moon like AI. To "kill" the kill code. Of course he finds out that AI is very volatile. And might kill him in the process. He then creates an AI like lunar to suppress the kill code. Unfortunately much like lunar when kill code appeared It does nothing and for the most part and just hides. Moon's kill code appears much sooner in this AU so he chucks those AI into the computer and tries to figure out other solutions with a Monty.

The computer, of which is much more independent in this AU, decides to do some tampering of his own. He takes the good parts of both the blood moon AI and the lunar AI (which technically in this AU is called red moon and Sun copy) and emerges them together creating this AUs eclipse (only by name). Creating a AI that can not only lift people spirits but also defend itself if needed. Kind of imagine Earth if she was more giddy and might claw your throat if you tried to threaten her. He is my mental love child of lunar and blood moon.... quiet.

Eclipse who is just now born. Considers the computer his creator despite the fact that Moon technically was also his creator. The computer gives eclipse the objective to save Sun and Moon from their kill codes. Now sun already being affected is mostly switched in his brain too "help sun learn to live a normal life" While moon at this point (who is not fully infected) is as the objective states.

Eclipse tries to do this but of course he is a brand new AI who was a mix of a giddy lunar type personality with the speech and straightforward thinking of blood moon doesn't really help too much. Moon getting desperate finally creates the star (Or gets out? I'm not sure when the star was made in this AU). And starts talking about plans to use it to reset him and sun should they both go over the edge to Monty.

Eclipse of course is terrified of this idea. The fact that his brothers might just be wiped. Now technically. although I didn't mention it, Eclipse has grown as strong friendship with Golden Freddy. Having gone to him first after hearing about his ghostly magic to see if he could do anything about Sun and Moon's kill code. Now of course the situation is the same, he can't. But Golden takes eclipse under his wing. Seeing as Moon is too concerned about suppressing his kill code in his own way and sun is quite literally a manipulating jerk with anxiety attacks. So when the star is mentioned eclipse goes to him to see what to do.

Unfortunately after this conversation Eclipse goes back only to witness moon being completely overtaken. The star in his hands. Eclipse swipes the star. Terrified of what moon might do in this moment of panic. Moon of course acts very much like he does in the first episode that kill code takes over. He maniacally asks Eclipse for the Star back. Eclipse stunned by his failure runs back to Golden. And begs him to hide it. Not wanting Moon Sun or Monty to use it in any way. He's had mild success helping sun live a relatively normal life And he now plans to do the same with Moon.

Eclipse goes back and after suppressing kill code moon decides to lock them up until he calms down. Sun of course not being affected the same way is having a panic attack. After everything is calmed down Eclipse sets on his plan to help Moon repress kill code the same way he did before. And let him live a normal life.

A bunch of time passes. At this point Moon has repressed it to about the same level before he separated from Sun. Moon is mostly the same with a little bit of quirks. While sun becomes very eclipse like. Moon just becomes overall more animalistic in some situations. His room becomes something he defends. Other such objects that are possessions are treated much the same way. If you are to startle him there is a good chance he might attack you. And they're also is that general scariness about him.

At some point in time the cube (which is technically just the askers) appears. The cube is the creation of a time paradox. One I am not going to explain. All you need to know is that the cube will spontaneously teleport to a different universe or dimension. When it appears it goes and finds the first animatronic it finds. It just so happens to be Eclipse. It bonds with the eclipse and while at first eclipse and brothers just thinks he's found a new friend he is actually found a new deadly travel partner.

The first time it happens Moon the computer and sun all panic. There's nothing like having a pleasant conversation with your crazy brother and then him just up and vanishing into a dark purple mist. When he reappears in the same place he disappeared in they of course crowd him with questions. Eclipse at the time didn't know and after the third or fourth time of this happening a moon finally figured out it was the cube. Moon then gives him a dimensional travel chip And that's kind of where we set off.

Eclipse of course unfortunately learns about the main timeline. And shortly gains a hatred towards anything like the kill code. Usually in the form of eclipses. Or anyone like tsams-eclipse. At some point he also greets the grandpa lunar. Who much like nice eclipse therapizes him.

Moon and Monty are still looking for the star. But Golden has kept it well hidden. Sometimes Sun and Moon will come over to his place to do some soul magic to try and help themselves. But they have never found the star. Golden Freddy's magic is too strong to sense it through.

It is around this time when the askers come using the cube as a vessel.

[the-friendliest-freak]

Poppy Playtime - Headcanons and Theories (and both combined)

The regular-sized toys (like the small Huggy from the Project Playtime trailer) were made from animals, the slightly bigger ones (like Bunzo and the Huggies from Whack-A-Wuggy) were made from orphans, and the big toys (Huggy and Mommy Long Legs) were made from employees

Rich becomes Huggy, Patty becomes Kissy. Since there were rules against employee relationships, and Patty and Rich were of a very small group to break that rule, they figured it’d be easier to use them for those roles rather than attempt to induce romantic affiliation with other subjects.

Marie joined Playtime Co because she liked the idea of being a part of so many children’s upbringings by providing them with the toys that would shape them

The human-to-toy transformation process isn’t magical or a soul-transference - the human bodies themselves are used, and they are consequently conditioned and brainwashed to act in-character (think of the movie Tusk, or don’t, it’s terrifying)

The toys were intended to be weapons of war, a mix of Trojan Horse and sleeper agent

The larger toys, like MLL, have prosthetic attachments, which is why they don’t bleed in some places but do bleed in others

I like to imagine each primary character had their childhood “stolen” from them in a sense.

Stella was a young girl during World War 2, and her desire to be a child again mostly originates from wanting a do-over

Avery grew up in a small, very religious town, with an alcoholic father and a distant mother. The local priest was very…fond of him. He still suffers Catholic guilt on a day to day basis.

More of a theory to explain why he has no last name but: Rich himself is an orphan, that’s why he’s somewhat reluctant to say what he’s doing is “for the orphans” - he either knows people would expect him to empathise, or he’s embarrassed about admitting it. Also the movie he references in chapter 2 is part of a series known for focusing on orphans (I have an alternative theory here that’s more ‘out there’). The fact that he has no last name at his age implies that he was never adopted at all

Jimmy Roth’s a self proclaimed “mama’s boy” and his father left for milk when he was 14 and never came back. He’s shit at spelling and grammar but super super good at math

With Patty as Kissy - Kissy’s lesser amount of control over her movements when compared to Huggy or MLL isn’t due to anything happening during the creation process. Patty struggled with motor control, and having longer limbs and a heavier head did not help with that

Avery has a massive acne problem. He doesn’t pick or touch his face, and he does all the correct things, he doesn’t know why he still breaks out

Rich struggles with regulating his volume. He knows there’s a volume rule, he just never knows how loud he’s being.

The Player was a scientist

Alternatively, The Player is a complete nobody

Due to the car crash sounds found in the game files, car models being found, as well as Rowan Stoll’s reference to Playtime Co sabotaging his car to make it crash, the Player might have suffered a similar fate, which is why they weren’t around when all the employees went missing - they were probably at the hospital recovering

Rich and Avery aren’t box-packers, but something higher-up. Think about it - Rich says that getting sent to the Reject Warehouse was a demotion, but he’s the only one working here and was in charge of managing calls to retailers, operating heavy machinery, and cataloguing failed prototypes - completely solo. If that’s a demotion, then he must’ve had a more complicated job than box-packer (I can’t imagine him being a manager though to be honest, especially with him referring to the higher-ups as separate from him and Avery, so who knows what he might’ve been?)

Avery knew a few magic tricks, but since he didn’t go to parties often there was rarely a good time to show them off…until working at Playtime Co. Rich has no idea how magic tricks work, so he’s always insanely impressed with whatever Avery shows him. It always cheers him up.

Playcare was founded around the same time Huggy was created (since Rich talks about how the warehouse has been flooded with orphanage junk recently in the same tape in which Avery asks where the Huggy boxes are being kept - if both of them have been working there for a while, as the tape implies, then Avery would know where they are kept if the tape takes place a while after Huggy’s creation. Judging by the fact that he doesn’t know, and Rich’s complaints about the “program”, then Playcare was likely founded around the time Huggy was created)

Out of Rich and Avery, Avery’s the one with zero chill. He just never shows it

Due to only the female toilets and female locker rooms being modelled in an unused map from chapter 1, the Player could likely be female (since it implies that those rooms would’ve been the only ones you would have entered)

Rich is autistic

[thewingedbaron]

Quiet Moments: the Devil and the Shadow

SPOILERS FOR ACT ONE

As the companions bed down for the night, preparing to scout the goblin camp in the morning, Tav (pictured above) finds a quiet moment to reflect on all that has happened over the past three days.

Spoliers beyond this point for Wyll and Shadowheart's backstories.

Tav sat by the fire, meticulously cleaning each piece of her new crossbow. It was a heavy, comfortable weight across her knees, unlike the flimsy bow she had rescued from the illithid nautiloid. The arms of the bow were beautiful, gilded gold with matching designs that ran the length of the body, and swirled into the trigger lever. As Tav polished it, she could feel the crossbow’s enchantments humm under her fingertips. At the end of the stock, someone had carefully carved the name of the beautiful weapon. Harold. A strange name for a crossbow, but who was she to argue with someone who could craft such a wonderfully deadly instrument. She would have saved those caravan guards a dozen times over just to shoot the thing. Now, it was hers. 

But even she had to admit, polishing the beautiful weapon was merely a distraction. 

Camp had been quiet all night. Even Karlach’s seemingly boundless energy had been subdued after Wyll’s “visitor” had appeared earlier in the night. The Blade of Frontiers had disappeared some time ago now, stating that he needed some time to reflect on his choices, and his new visage. Tav hoped he was alright. Their companions had done their best to cheer him before he left, but it was impossible for mere words to soften the blow Wyll had suffered tonight. The man had been dragged through each of the Hells, one after another, and come back with horns. Tav knew personally what it was like to live as “devil-spawn”. She knew the suspicious looks Wyll would receive from all sides, the distrust in every stranger’s face. There was a reason she preferred the dangers of the wilds over crowded cities. 

The soft scuffle of feet drew Tav from her thoughts. She was surprised to find Karlach towering over her, looking for all the world like she was a schoolgirl about to be punished for throwing her chalk at someone’s head. 

“Um, hi soldier. H-has Wyll come back yet?” Karlach asked, her eyes meeting Tav’s. She saw discomfort there, but also a strange kind of determination. 

“I haven’t seen him.” Tav replied with what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. “Wyll has a lot to process, I doubt we’ll see him until the morning.” That’s what I would do. Tav thought. 

“Do you know which way he went? Since you’re a ranger and stuff, I figured you can track things so you might…” 

“He was headed over the rise, last I saw.” Tav nodded toward a small corps of trees atop a small hill overlooking their camp. “I don’t think he would have gone too far from camp.” 

“Thanks soldier,” Karlach nodded several times, as if confirming the thought in her head. Tav watched her go, stepping quickly toward the trees after Wyll. For a moment, Tav almost called her back, insisting upon letting Wyll have his space. But she discarded the notion. Wyll could use a friend right now. She thought. This could be good for both of them to work through, together. 

“So… Wyll made a deal with the devil.” 

Tav barely managed to suppress her flinch of surprise as Shadowheart seemed to materialize out of the darkness. Even for one trained in stealth, and with highly attuned senses, honed from years of hunting some of nature’s deadliest creatures, the half-elf was impossible to keep track of especially without her heavy chainmail. Although that was hardly surprising for a cleric of Shar, Tav reflected. 

“So he did.” Tav replied, trying her best to keep her voice even despite her racing heart. “Though he really doesn’t seem the type.” 

“Oh? Know many warlocks, do you?” Shadowheart teased, making Tav’s heart flutter for an entirely unrelated reason. “What sets our dear friend Wyll apart from the rest?” 

“I’ve known a couple.” Hunted a couple too. Tav did not voice the thought. “Most make their pacts looking to gain power for themselves. Authority over others and such. Wyll’s different. He seems like he uses his pact for the good of all. He had a good heart.” 

“Like you. A good heart I mean.” Shadowheart flushed slightly. “Why do you insist on helping both the druids and the tieflings? It seems to me like Zevlor already gave us the perfect solution. Slip a knife between the snake’s ribs and we can be on our way.” 

“Killing Kahga outright wouldn’t be much of a solution.” Tav’s brow furrowed. “If we stick a knife in her back to help the refugees, it would only brew more resentment among the sympathetic druids. Many who might have supported the tieflings in their plight will turn on them, blaming them for the death of one of their own.” Even if I want to kill her for threatening that child. Tav dismissed the thought. “It’s better that we find Halsin, let him get his grove in order, and we can see about breaking up the goblin camp along the way. If the road is clear, there’s no need for Zevlor’s people to stay. Then, there’s no need for bloodshed.”

“Careful, Tav. One might begin to think you’re scared of a little bloodshed.” Shadowheart laughed. Tav realized she quite liked the sound. 

“Not scared of it, no.” She replied, patting the crossbow in her lap. “I simply prefer it on my own terms. What about you, Shadowheart? If you keeping helping people, some might not think you’re not such a scary priestess of Shar.” 

Tav knew the words were wrong the moment they left her mouth. Immediately, Shadowheart’s face fell, the laughter in her eyes draining in a moment. 

“No, perhaps not.” She muttered. “Goodnight, Tav.” 

Tav nodded, silently kicking herself as Shadowheart stalked back to her tent. With a frustrated sigh, Tav’s gaze returned to the flames, and for a moment she considered throwing herself into them. Why did it have to be so hard to get a read on her half-elven companion? What was she doing wrong? 

Yet neither the crackling flames, nor the hooting of a hunting owl seemed to hold any answers for her as Tav settled down to sleep.

[leporellian]

trying (and failing) to make a modern au of trovatore

one of the most campy operas, now as a modern au, because i find the process of making modern aus like really relaxing for some reason

first off. How Everything Went Down because There's A Lot Going On There

count di luna sr- obviously not a count here, but i'm not giving him a proper first name- is... let's say he's a government representative bc even though i know i've used that in the past, it works. he has two sons, as in canon, but unlike canon they have two separate mothers; the firstborn being the son of his actual wife and then his second son being the result of an affair with an employee or something similar.

the second child is abandoned somehow when he's very little; his birth mother can't really take care of him at all and she has no idea what to do with an infant. she abandons him and leaves him on a sidewalk near one of those flourescent-light dingy bodegas in the middle of the night... and he's found by azucena, the Only employee at said bodega, who is honestly initially none too happy about the situation for a myriad of reasons

Right Before azucena found The Baby, she had both suffered a miscarriage and lost her mother to some dumbass policy in large part funded by senator/representative/whatever diluna. (i don't think there's a way to translate 'threw wrong baby in fire' in a way that makes sense or is just, like, objectively darkly hilarious so we're going with this.) so having to deal with An Entire Infant is... well very emotionally complex. initially she tries to give The Baby up for adoption, figuring she can't be that good of a mother and he isn't hers by blood and someone could take better care of him, but then she realizes he's something of a little misfit in the world like herself and she takes him in.

(not that she doesn't like, Drop all her problems LOL. she's a good mother but she certainly isn't perfect.)

she doesn't learn about manrico's actual parentage until manrico is in his teens and even then it takes a few years for her to Tell Him Proper because she doesn't want to really even acknowledge that her son shares the same DNA as the man who doomed her mother to die. so... complicated stuff happening there LOL!

meanwhile. the other son

senator diluna's elder son, frederick (his close friends, of which he has none, call him freddie. but otherwise he is just frederick. just diluna when he's feeling self-important), is raised primarily by the staff around the diluna household and senator diluna himself. it was one of those McMansion 'they have a nanny hired' situations. frederick's mother left some time after she figured out her husband was having affairs; frederick has not heard from her since.

senator diluna honestly never really... liked frederick. (he loved frederick. but he didn't like him.) frederick was always a rather feeble hyperactive little thing that didn't really have any of the charisma or grace of his dad, and so often just sort of... fucked things up. i imagine senator diluna was physically abusive too, just a right old bastard- but frederick loved him.

there were a couple times where sen. diluna, when Tearing Through frederick for his son's many faults, would make references to 'see this is why i wished you had a brother so one of my sons would be competent'. which always fucked frederick up, so frederick took some solace in at least being the only child. (lol.) he was never really popular with his peers at school; given he was like... the cringy deviantart scenecore wolf-obsessed kid that Very Clearly had some sort of neurodivergence nobody seemed to address.

(well, he did meet leonora in middle school but we'll get to her later.)

sen. diluna died of... something- gestures vaguely- not too long ago, and on his deathbed he started going a bit delirious and talking about 'his other son' which, given the things he had told frederick before, fucked frederick up Hard. so frederick decided that he would at least make his dad proud from beyond the grave... but he has no idea what to do with his life, he doesn't Really believe in his dad's politics beyond a long set of internalized biases, and he has little to show for himself. so. Yeah

manrico is told about his true parentage by azucena not long before sen. diluna dies... and then when he finds out, he thinks 'well i don't like who my dad was but maybe if i go to the funeral i'll get some sense of closure about the dad i never knew.' (manrico does not think about what sort of ramifications this might cause for other people. he's a very kind young man, but he's also..... how you say.... stupid.)

meanwhile, frederick does have TWO friends! two! ...leonora, who he met in middle school and went to Catholic High School with, and ferrando. both of these friendships are objectively sort of hilarious.

he and leonora are like The Two Warrior Cats Wolfpack OC Kids In Middle School so they hung out often even though frederick is three or so years older than she is. they sort of kept being friends in high school but given leonora was raised by like, uber-Christian overprotective parents and sen. diluna's parenting style (when not kicking frederick around like a rubber ball) was 'just tell the kid to go run around outside and hope the coyotes don't get him', they sort of split apart naturally. after they finish high school neither of them initially attend college, leonora bc she wants to go take a couple gap years and figure things out and frederick because.... gesturing

ferrando, meanwhile, initially met frederick bc he interned for sen. diluna when he was in high school and was inexplicably asked multiple times 'hey can you watch my child for the day while i do stuff' which is just really funny because frederick was like 8 and ferrando was like 15 at the time. they only really became friends-friends when they were both adults however. ferrando was also given a pretty hard shake at it by sen. diluna and sort of Thrown Around as an office intern, so he empathizes with frederick's entire situation, but he doesn't entirely understand frederick's eccentricities nor does he understand why frederick is so desperate to Prove Himself. ferrando and frederick are housemates, which ferrando likes for multiple reasons. one, the house is a mcmansion. two, ferrando was born with a birth defect where he was born without a full right hand (he has a vestigial bump there but that's about it) and with a mostly-blind right eye, so he can get frederick to do stuff for him like unscrew jars when frederick isn't being particularly erratic.

so anyway when sen. diluna dies frederick is like 'hey you two you are like my only friends can you come with me to the funeral'. ferrando accepts. leonora also accepts but she thinks the whole situation is weird and awkward because like they knew each other in school but it's been a couple years now and she isn't like THAT close to him but she also doesn't want to say no bc she knows he is sort of desperate.

anyway manrico and leonora meet in community college. she's there after her couple of gap years to figure out what it is she really wants to Do with her life, he's a fresh-out-of-high-school grad there because (despite otherwise being a dumb football jock) he's actually quite fascinated by history. they hit it off really well. i actually think leonora is a lesbian and at firsttt she thinks she's into manrico but then she's like Nah. Nonthreatening Man. and he's cool with it ("oh cool so we both dig chicks!" "...you could put it that way yeah!")

leonora tells manrico about the whole. 'my weird high school friend messaged me asking abt his dad's funeral and i don't really Want to go to it' thing and manrico's like.... oh shit 1) that dead guy is my dad i just found out and 2) clearly that has to be my brother. and he asks to get in contact w/ frederick so he can attend. leonora, not knowing frederick Does Not Know about his younger brother, gives him frederick's email address.... and frederick responds as kindly as one could imagine to 'email claiming to be from a brother that as far as frederick knows does not exist when the concept of having a brother is an extremely sore spot'.

(frederick initially blames leonora for doing it as a prank but then he's like 'NO WAIT I'M SORRY I WASN'T THINKING STRAIGHT'. she's weirded out enough by this to ghost him, which, again, does not have a good impact on frederick's mental psyche either.)

manrico keeps calling frederick his brother every time they go on to meet in person. frederick does not believe him. neither brother is having a good time bc manrico thinks his one 'blood' family member and the older brother he always wished he had despises him, while di luna thinks some stranger is playing a sick joke just to fuck with him for no reason. etc.

where does it go from here? idk it depends on what one wants. in the Canon Compliant Version things come to a head like they usually do and frederick kills manrico in an alley knife fight or something before being told LMAO that IS your brother and you just got rid of your ONLY family left. in the silly this-is-all-for-the-sake-of-it au, things are reconciled with a DNA test and manrico and frederick- while maybe often argumentative and not CLOSE close- make amends. leonora and frederick also get on more equal footing but realize that they can be acquaintances without being... like... friends, so they never really go back to being friends i think but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. ferrando and azucena still hate each other but this time it's honestly kind of funny bc they don't really have anything to do with each other at all. manrico decides to intern at the local history museum only for it to turn out that ferrando works there as an archivist and that's a bruh moment. i think these characters have some funny ass character dynamics in a modern au