#and victim of a murder too apparently. they killed him straight up

[etchif]

Downgrade of the fucking century btw what the hell happened

[artyandink]

breaking profiler’s block

SUMMARY: You and Spencer have a sorta thing going. All for your genius, there are times where, y’know, you get stumped, and that was dubbed ‘profiler’s block’ by you and Spencer. Well, he knew exactly how to fix that, and this isn’t the first time he’s helped you break it.

TW: Post-prison Reid, so basically it’s an extremely hot Reid, talk of asphyxiation murder, criminal psychology, unspecified relationship, talk of masochism, BAU!reader, relatable-ass profiler’s block which is the BAU version of writer’s block, smut

STW: oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, Spencer being kind of a little shit, softdom!Spence, profiling during eating out, pussydrunk!Spencer cause yes, threat of exhibitionism, praise kink, hair pulling kink, thigh slapping, slight degradation, filthy stuff guys, you’re welcome

A/N: I don’t think this kinda trope’s been done before, so here we go

NOW PLAYING: Side to Side by Ariana Grande

Think, c’mon, think. Though that’s a pretty impossible task when Spencer Reid’s eating your pussy like he’s on death row.

“Shh, sweetheart, use that pretty head.” Spencer murmured as he sucked on your clit, two fingers pumping relentlessly in and out of you. Long-ass fingers, talented-ass tongue— you were done for.

Every lady out there was done for in the presence of this man. You too, all you out there.

You and the team were currently in Vegas — Spencer’s turf — to try and find a man who was out there strangling low-end members of society. But you couldn’t think straight — not just in the current circumstance — but in general. You’d hit something that you and Spencer called ‘profiler’s block’, and lucky you that Spencer knew how to snap you out of it.

Not his first rodeo with you where that’s concerned.

Spencer used his free hand to shove your legs further apart, spreading you open with his two fingers so he could lap up everything he could from your dripping cunt, moaning when ambrosia hit his tongue. “You know the drill.” He panted, eyes rolling back briefly as you pulled on his hair— fuck, that’s good. “Strangles his victims. S’ that tell us, hm?”

You thought you said a coherent sentence, but apparently it came out jumbled, because a quick slap to your thigh by Spencer had you moaning out an answer. “He wants p-power — oh — and control— fuck.”

“Don’t stop there.” He murmured, lapping at your clit. “Or are you just so fucking drunk on my tongue? Huh? Imagine the team seeing you like this, can’t even say a sentence properly.” Now, that shouldn’t have felt as hot as it did, but you did clench around his fingers, which were reaching spots you didn’t know you had.

After a few moments of how the fuck is he this good, you managed to regain a bit of footing, your blissfully blank mind allowing for new, sweet clarity, even if it was brief. “Incompetent. O-Overcompensating. He’s killing brunettes with blue eyes, he’s got an authority figure in his life that makes him feel small.”

“Good girl— shit, such a good girl.” Spencer cooed, which had your eyes rolling back. Soft voice, low tone, his hand pressing down on your stomach to make you clench on his fingers, to feel him taking you apart by the fucking seams.

You couldn’t deny the praise kink. It was definitely there.

“Gonna fuck you so hard when you get this right.” When was a comforting thought amid his fingers curling against your g-spot deliciously— his fingers were hitting your g-spot. “You want that? Wanna get drunk on my cock, darling? Make you walk funny and have the BAU see what I do to you?”

Oh, god, you wanted that. Spencer wanted that too, wanted to feel your pussy in every way possible. The man was whipped for pussy, and with the sloppy way he was devouring yours, you’d say he got drunk on you before you had the chance to go delirious on his cock.

“Spence—” You were so close, it was embarrassing, but you couldn’t help it. But you knew the drill: no coming until you’d given a substantial profile. No coming until the profiler’s block was smashed through by his fingers working that one spot in you that had you seeing stars. “S’ close, can’t — ah, shit — don’t stop. He’s a white m-male, thirties, married possibly with kids, works a job — yes — that he’s not seen in and is a low paying job,” His tongue flattened against your clit, “h-he kills low end m-members of — mm — society because he’s a masochist. T-The p-pain of not going outside of h-his comfort zone feels like a r-release when he kills because he’s inflicting it on himself—” A third finger stretched you open, “Spence, m’ gonna—”

“Come, sweetheart.” Spencer murmured, harshly sucking on your clit to tip the dominos and make you come — hard — and sink into the mattress, your mind wiped clean, eyes rolling back and hips bucking against his mouth, hands roughly gripping your hips and holding you to his mouth so he could lap and swallow everything that you had to offer, every drop of come as he moaned sinfully against you— as if that made matters better.

White vision, satisfied pussy, that’s what Spencer Reid did to you.

And even as your vision was starting to return back to 18/20, the tip of his cock nudged against your cunt, fingers reaching to spread you open.

“Ready, darling?”

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@cheynovak @tofics

[daengtokki]

part three // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 14.4k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: angst, murder, blood, very brief m/m, bodily penance/self-harm, medication, sex, more blood

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

thank you again to @thackery-blinks, and also this song

˗ˋˏ♡ please reblog/tag if you enjoy, and help my work reach a wider audience. thank you friends!

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST ]

After the second cup of coffee, you start to pay more attention to the time. It feels like an hour has passed, at least, but you can’t be sure, because you have no idea what time it was when the two of you woke up this morning. It’s even colder now, and the draft continues to blow in—that’s how you know he’s still out there. Doing what, though? Being alone, yes…meditating? Punishing himself?

You fill a third cup of coffee and decide to let fifteen more minutes pass before checking on him. You could just get up and go now, but it doesn't feel like your place to question his actions. This is really none of your business. Should you make it your business?

His back is straight, his head is down…you can see the steady puffs of condensation leave his nose. The blanket you pulled from the couch is rolled up under your arm when you push the curtain aside and walk out onto the balcony. It’s even colder than you imagined, now that the walls of his bedroom are gone.

How could he have been out here for so long? Seungmin isn’t made of much; he’s thin. Tall and broad, yes, but thin. And though his body has been warm and comfortable when you’ve been close to him, he can’t possibly keep that warmth in him right now. He doesn’t seem to hear you approach, or kneel at his side. You unfold the flannel blanket, the same one he gave you before, and carefully wrap it around his shoulders, up to his neck. Now he moves a little, and when you rub your hand over his back and shoulders, he opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Why are you out here?”

“Why are you?”

“Come back inside, please”

“Are you sure?” He grabs the blanket and pulls it around him.

“Yes, of course, I’m sure”

He nods, but he doesn’t move yet. Maybe he needs to find some energy first—there’s no way he has any left now. His legs look lifeless and pale, but they still work when he gets his feet flat on the ground. You follow him as he rises, hold his arm, and you’re surprised that he lets you guide him back inside.

He starts toward the door.

“No, you should get back into bed”

“I need some coffee.” His voice is so small, and weak.

“I’ll bring you some”

Seungmin stops, and stands there for a few seconds.

“Please”

When you return, he’s halfway under his covers with the blanket still wrapped around him.

“If you still want to be alone, I won’t stay in here”

“You can stay”

“Okay…” you climb onto the bed, find a spot in the middle, close to him, but not too close, and watch him as he quietly shivers. His cheeks and ears are red and chapped from the wind, and his usually pouty pink lips are pale and barely there against his colorless face. “Get all the way under the covers.” You reach a hand out to touch his neck, and he jumps.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you before”

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me”

“I didn’t?” He reaches out and lifts your shirt, and the marks look even more apparent. A few bruises are already starting to bloom where his fingers pressed. “I did.”

“Lie down, you’re still shivering.” His hand is like ice when you grab it, but he shakes free and sets it flat across the bruises. It feels so good, but you try not to make your content sigh too obvious. “Okay, okay…lie down.”

Seungmin listens this time, and you decide to take a chance and move closer. You still don’t know why he was out there, or why he was torturing himself, but maybe he’ll allow you to wrap an arm around him and pull him even closer. His body is so cold, you’re not sure you have enough heat in you to help, but you’re going to try. You’re not sure why, but you know he would do the same for you.

/ / /

Wrapped up…that’s really the only way to describe him this time. Seungmin’s long limbs are all over you, holding tightly. The look on his sleeping face, at least what you can see squeezed against him, is the most content you’ve ever seen it. He’s sleeping like a puppy curled up in a heated blanket. And that’s exactly how you feel—warm, damp with sweat. Too warm. Seungmin’s heat returned, and then some. His cheek feels like a radiator when you touch it.

“I’m so tired,” he mumbles, moves around a little, then settles again. “Why am I so tired?”

“Because you sat outside for hours and it’s -2 degrees”

His eyes pop open like he’s wondering why someone is in his bed, answering him. He lets go, pushes himself back, and examines you.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

Well, maybe he’s not all there yet. It doesn’t matter. Something about being in bed with him like this again blurs everything. You’re comfortable and warm here, and this is all that’s mattered. You should probably check your messages, your email, your bank account…something—your family might actually be worried enough to send money. It doesn’t matter, though. You don’t plan on going anywhere right now.

“I need to shower, and go out…what time is it?”

“Go out? Why do you have to go out?”

“I have to find…” Seungmin stops and looks at you again. “Someone.”

“Already?”

“Yes”

When did he do this last? Did he do it recently? The last time you asked him, it was in the park, and he told you he killed someone the day you met. After you met, because he didn’t kill you. You can’t even remember how long ago that was, so you close your eyes and think…two weeks, and—

“It’s been two days,” he says.

Oh, it was recent. You find yourself looking around the room as if you missed some clue about his recent activities. Is that why the bedding is all new? Did he do it right here on this bed? “Two days?”

He rises slowly. The arm that’s still draped over your hip slides away, and he stumbles a little as he gets to his feet. “Yeah, on Friday. After I thought you left.” And he’s gone without another word.

You hear him in the shower—he’s in there for a very long time, and when he finally comes out, a cloud of steam follows him. He’s still dripping wet, and his hair is slicked back so tight, he almost looks like a different person. And he’s completely naked. No towel wrapped around his waist, no shorts, just wet skin glowing in the sunlight. Seungmin makes himself more coffee, an iced one this time, and doesn’t say a word as he sips and looks absently at his phone.

He takes his coffee to the bedroom, and he comes back out a few minutes later, partially dressed. All you can do is watch, nervously, as he approaches where you sit at the corner of the couch. Why are you so nervous? Seungmin isn’t even looking at you— he’s staring at the floor, and then at whatever small thing he has in his hand. He holds it out and waits for you to take it before speaking.

“Get whatever you need, or whatever you want…both,” he says softly—practically whispers it. “Max it out, I don’t care.”

If you didn’t assume he planned on doing this since last night, you’d think it was his indirect way of apologizing. Seungmin clearly has money to throw at things to make them go away, or to bring them closer to him. You’re not sure which of those he wants from you right now.

This was your first time shopping in Seoul, and it was overwhelming being on your own in the crowds, but you have to admit it had its moments of calm, and even a few moments of joy—particularly when you found a dress very similar to one that you lost, and especially when you stumbled upon something that reminded you of Seungmin. It seemed silly to get, but it seemed still to pass up, too, and you haven’t decided yet if you’ll give it to him. But you have it just in case. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood after a few more hours of solitude. Maybe he won’t be as bad as you think he’ll be at accepting gifts.

The apartment is dark, and very quiet when you return. Seungmin gave you a copy of both keys, and the code to the final lock—being trusted with that did feel good, and it made your morning a little better after his standoffish attitude. It does make it feel like last night's comments probably weren’t the truth, but you still have to wonder about everything else. You set the bags down and look around; the kitchen light is on, and you can see some soft light coming from the crack beneath his bedroom door. There is sound, but it’s very quiet and you can’t catch any type of conversation.

The closer you get, the more confusing it becomes, until it finally hits you—you think you know what you’re hearing, and it throws your heart into your throat, and you feel a little sick. Seungmin is moaning, over and over, but it’s not quite how he sounds when he’s with you. It’s a steady rhythm, and then he stops…starts again, stops. It almost sounds forced, but he’s the only sound you can hear. Maybe he’s getting himself off; maybe last night wasn’t enough. You don’t want to interrupt him if that is what’s going on, but when you hear another voice, you really start to feel sick.

“Is that good?” the voice says. It sounds masculine, but still, it’s hard to tell for sure. You can’t understand it, anyway. You don’t hear Seungmin’s response, but the other person laughs, and you feel your entire body start to heat up. It could be from anger, or embarrassment, or sadness...all of the above. You feel pretty stupid standing there, but it’s not like Seungmin is your boyfriend. He’s not yours, and you guess you’re not his, either. No, he just took in a stray and gave it unlimited money to shop, absolutely no big deal. Nothing serious.

“Yeah, you are…” Still the nameless, faceless voice. Definitely masculine. “Come back, don’t be a tease.”

You take a few steps back. The language barrier means you can’t say for sure what’s happening behind that door, but it feels obvious. The deep, sensual whispers and the moans can only equal one thing.

“Yeah, keep going”

It’s Seungmin’s voice that time. And then everything goes quiet. A few seconds later, he comes, loudly. And then it’s quiet again.

You take a few more steps back until you hit the side of the kitchen counter, and it’s then that you hear a loud thud. Very loud, like something heaving hitting the ground.

“Fuck…what are you doing?” This time, the voice sounds…angry? No, surprised, confused. It’s hard to tell even as you listen as carefully as possible. Your head is swimming with every strange thought, though. “No…stop, please.”

“What the fuck?” You say out loud to nobody. Your legs are trembling. Another loud thud makes you jump, and then you hear Seungmin. It almost doesn’t sound like him, but you know it’s him. It’s big, and deep, and unlike any version of him you’ve heard…

“Fucking…hold still. Fuck, give me a break.”

The door shakes, the doorknob turns, and as soon as it swings open, all you see is the stranger's terrified face. He’s half-dressed, jeans still mostly zipped, but he slips a little as he makes a run for the door. Seungmin is right behind him, and you just barely see the shine of his knife as he runs by.

Your legs tremble more, and you don’t know how you’re still standing. The feeling of needing to vomit now hits, but nothing happens when you lean forward—just a dry heave, and then your throat tightens right back up. He doesn’t see you…he has one thing in his sights, and it’s almost at the door you’re pretty sure you left unlocked.

The man stumbles again, and Seungmin grabs him by the back of the neck as he falls forward onto the carpet. But he screams, and it’s so loud. You see the glint again as he pulls back and plunges it into the side of his neck. The sound…you think you actually hear the metal as it slides through his skin and tendons and cartilage. Did you really hear it all the way over here? You did hear Seungmin’s angry growl, and you can still hear his heavy, uneven pulls of breath. Finally, you fall to your knees and take one deep breath. The light-headedness outweighs the feeling of vomiting, but you manage to keep it together.

“Son of a bitch,” he says, in English this time, and you definitely hear the blade being pulled out and thrown to the side. It bounces and makes a mess everywhere it hits, and it lands right next to one of the bags you brought home.

Seungmin sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair, “another fucking mess.” He says it in a sing-songy voice as he turns his head and looks for his knife.

You can see his face now, and it changes immediately when he notices the bags. His eyes grow, and his tongue pokes out a little between his lips. First he looks at his work again, and the mess of blood slowly pouring onto the carpet. Then he looks at the door, which you know he can see is unlocked. If the stranger would have beat him to it…well, you’d rather not think about that. Finally, he turns his head. His eyes seem to soften as they land on you, and something about his face looks guilty.

“Hey,” he says, and very carefully stands up. Seungmin towers over the body, examines it again, and then adjusts his shorts. It’s the only thing he’s wearing, except for two silver necklaces, and a little bit of blood on his stabbing hand. “Hey…I thought you’d be out longer,” he quickly closes the space between you and kneels a few feet away. "Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

You stay in your spot and watch him as he heads for the sink to wash his hands…once, and then a second time.

“You okay?” He kneels again, much closer this time, and places his hand on your knee. “Hm?” Seungmin keeps his face relaxed, and his eyes heavy, as if he’s trying his best not to make this seem as serious as it really is. To him, it is nothing, you think, and he may be lacking a bit in empathy, but he’s smart enough to know that what you just witnessed was a lot. “Do you wanna stand with me?”

No, you don’t, but you nod anyway and give him your hands.

He stares at you for a long time, silent, wondering what to say next. “Why don’t you go take a long, hot shower? I’ll set some clothes in there for you.”

“Why?”

“Because when you come out, you’ll feel a little better, and everything will be back to normal.”

“Normal?”

“Yeah, mostly. Please, just give me…30 minutes.”

“How are you going to fix this in a half an hour?”

That’s a very good question. Seungmin can clean up in that span of time, but he certainly can’t dispose of this body, as well. Luckily, he usually has a backup plan floating around in his head. “You’ll have to believe me.” He relaxes the vice grip he has on your wrists and slides his hands up your arms. “Try to.”

/ / /

He digs out the hard shell suitcase from the living room closet, and thanks himself for choosing a smaller kill this time. This is not how he likes doing things, and the knife is also not his favorite, but what he really doesn’t like is having an audience. This is a first. At least he didn’t know until after the fact.

As soon as the body, his shoes, his shirt, and whatever else he took off, is out of his sight, he focuses on the carpet. He rolls the rug up neatly, cuts it off as cleanly as possible, and wraps it as tightly as he can in several layers of garbage bags. Luckily, nothing made it down to the hardwood floor. Only a few little spots from the knife need to be cleaned. And the knife, of course. The biggest problem now is how he’s getting this down 26 floors to the basement, two separate times before he has a chance to get to the bedroom.

Seungmin tries his best, and he underestimates how good he really is. He locks everything away in his basement storage, for now, and gets back to the apartment with time to spare. Maybe you’ll give him a few extra minutes. Or maybe you’ll stay in there until he comes to get you.

The bedroom isn’t bad, but you know what was going on in here. He pulls off the bedspread and replaces it with a heavy blanket, just big enough to cover the king-size bed. The clothes on the floor get tossed in the hamper. Everything is thrown back in his drawer, neatly, or in the trash. He’s never worked so fast, because he’s never had to, and he really hopes he never has to speed run this again.

Last, he looks down at himself. He’s sweating, and out of breath, but luckily, he can’t find a splatter of blood on him. He rips off the tshirt and sweatpants, and replaces them with fresh ones.

You still haven’t made a sound, thirty-seven minutes later, so Seungmin knocks… “Hey, do you need anything?”

“Can I come out?”

He smiles at your small, timid voice. “Yes, you can come out.”

Seungmin looks around with you, a little paranoid he forgot something in his rush, but everything looks normal. Everything except the missing piece of carpet. He follows as you walk over to inspect the area, and when you seem satisfied, he follows into the bedroom.

“Where is it, the body?” You look around carefully. This is the first time you really explore his bedroom, and Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind when you end up at one of his bookshelves.

“Not here, not in the apartment.” He watches your hand reach for the music box, but you don’t open it. Your finger slides over the lid, and then you move on to the withering vase of flowers.

“You need some fresh heliotrope. We can change the water, though…they might perk up for another day.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Seungmin’s heart starts to race, and he doesn’t know why. It picks up even more when you return to the music box, gently pop the latch, and open it. He holds his breath, but luckily, he didn’t wind it. It’s quiet.

“Oh, this…” a dainty silver chain is pinched between your fingers, but you examine it closely before you continue, “no, it’s almost the same.” You hold it up so the St. Michael medallion hangs and sways like a pendulum. “Is this yours?”

“It belonged to my mother. So did the music box.” Seungmin reaches out and grabs the charm between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, I guess it’s mine.” How did we get from there, to here? he thinks to himself. You don’t ask him anything else—you carefully set the necklace back inside, close it, and pick up the vase of flowers.

“Where did you get these? Is there a greenhouse nearby?

It takes so much of his energy not to tell you exact truths right now, and he doesn’t know why. Seungmin can’t help but want you to ask him what happened; what did you walk into? Why aren’t you more shaken by this? You did have time to think in the shower, but thinking is one thing, and demanding more information is another. He was actually ready to explain himself. “Yeah, sort of.”

“Can we go get more?” Your voice fades as you head for the kitchen, to the sink, where you carefully replace the water in the vase.

No, Seungmin doesn’t think he can handle that right now. He’s never quite sure when he can, and he usually has to force himself. That might be the case soon. He does need to replace these.

“You gonna dry these, too?”

“…are you okay?”

He assumes by the long silence and the way you’re staring at the flowers…probably not. It was a good act, but you still don’t say anything when you walk back to the bedroom and set the vase back in its spot.

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Again, you leave the room. Seungmin is beginning to dislike not getting a proper response from you. “Dammit…will you please just answer me?”

You’ve been trying to think of a way to answer him—you really have. This entire day, aside from your alone time shopping, has been strange, and so uncomfortable. He can’t possibly expect you to just be okay, though…Seungmin isn’t stupid. He just wants something, anything besides you changing the subject again. But how are you supposed to tell him the kill wasn’t the worst part? Or that you weren’t even completely sure he was telling you the truth about his killing? You actually thought for a moment that he made the whole thing up, or exaggerated. You don’t have to wonder about that anymore. He did it, and it wasn’t his first time. “I’m okay, it was just,” you think, stall for another few seconds, “hearing you in there with someone else caught me off-guard.”

“Oh, that’s all? I thought I scared you...set off another panic attack, maybe.” The look you give him makes him revisit his response. “It was just a blowjob, I barely touched him, but that will happen again.”

“I know”

“You're jealous?” Seungmin smirks and takes a step toward you. “Is that it?”

“No, I’m not jealous,” you lie. What a stupid lie. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Nobody else lives in my house, or spends my money.” Another step. “Right?”

“Yes”

Close enough to kiss, but no. He reaches out, touches your neck, and leans forward as he does, “nobody else sleeps in my bed.” You can see yourself in his unblinking eyes, until he’s even closer. His lips ghost over your forehead, moving slowly over your temple, and to the spot just above your ear. He kisses once. “Just you.”

A moment of courage comes over you—he’s so close, and he smells so good, and you need to touch him. His hips feel good in your hands, and when he makes a sound, you move them slowly up his sides. You haven’t forgotten, he’s sensitive here.

Seungmin moves down until his breath tickles your ear, “but nobody touches you,” he kisses again, “or I’ll kill them.”

“I don’t want anyone else”

“Good. Now…are you gonna show me what you bought?”

/ / /

“I can try some, right?” He leans back on the couch, yawns, and stretches. Everything suddenly feels very normal. He feels like himself right now, and you suspect it’s his post-kill high.

The way his eyes follow you all over the room is suffocating, though. For some reason, it's making you feel shy, and way too seen. You can’t figure out what it is he sees in you, and what wants from you, and from all of this. What are you giving that somebody else couldn’t? If you knew what he looked for in his victims, maybe it’d be easier to figure out, but you don’t know. You don’t know why he talked to you that morning.

“Yeah, you bought it”

One of the things you bought, something you definitely didn’t need, was 70,000 won almond blossom tea. You only wandered into the shop to escape the crowd, but the owner let you try a sample, and it was impossible to pass up after tasting it. The scent, and the flavor took you back to the warmth of him wrapped around you this morning. It felt good.

Seungmin sneaks up behind you, and when his hand squeezes your waist, the hot water almost ends up on the counter. “It’s pretty…it smells nice,” he’s so close, you can almost feel his lips on you. “How long?”

“Two minutes.” You didn’t think brewing tea would make him so touchy and sweet, but you’ve started expecting pretty much anything from him. “Maybe a little less.”

“Show me something you bought”

“Pick something”

He slides away and heads for the three large bags at the end of the couch, and then he peeks in each one. “Okay, let’s try this one.” He reaches in and pulls out a smaller bag from inside the large one.

“Oh, maybe not that one…”

“Why not?”

“Pick something else”

“Okay, I’ll try again.” He reaches into another large bag, and again, pulls out a small one. “This one, you can’t say no.”

You nod and hand him his tea, “I won’t say no,” and take a sip. He does, too, and you watch him. “Do you like it?”

Before he answers, he takes one more slow sip, and a smile appears. His cheeks round out, and you see the shine of his teeth behind his lips. “I do…it’s nice and sweet.”

“Good,” you peek in the small bag and pull out a flat white box.

Seungmin watches the little golden movements as he swirls his cup, closes his eyes, and drinks again. Memories pop up in his mind: the kitchen, and the sun coming in through the window above the sink. His favorite chair—it faced the stove where he watched her cook every morning, every afternoon. Bundles of dried flowers hanging by the doorway, and the sweet smell of yakgwa if he behaved all week. Sometimes even if he didn’t.

He doesn’t realize how quickly he drains his cup, and he hopes you’ll make him another one.

“Hey…you there?”

“Hm? Yes, I’m here…sorry”

“I wasn’t sure about getting them, or about getting anything for you. So I hope it’s okay.”

“You bought something for me?" His eyes grow as he looks at the box, "this was supposed to be your shopping trip.”

Still soft, and you hope with everything you have that he stays like this for a little longer. Tonight, in the morning, and maybe through tomorrow. You think it, scream it in your head. Maybe he’ll pick up on it just enough. Maybe it’s the tea. You should make him more.

“I know, but…”

“Let me see," he moves the tissue paper out of the way and looks, touches the soft fabric first, and then carefully picks it up.

“It’s corny, I’m sorry”

“Corny? No, they're beautiful.” He reaches in and picks up the second silky handkerchief, and runs his thumb over the embroidered purple flowers, every petal, “and these won't die." Seungmin keeps one and hands the other back to you. You don't know, of course, but this is the first gift he's been given in years.

“Oh, they came as a pair…you don’t want both?”

“No, you keep one. It doesn’t look like you bought much for yourself.”

He’s right, you didn’t get as much as you should have, and that explains why you got back early and interrupted his work. You should have made a list.

“We can go again tomorrow. Maybe you just need company.”

“Company? You’re gonna go shopping with me?”

“Yes, we can do that. We can get lunch somewhere nice, and maybe we can go get more flowers...what? Is that okay?”

Whatever confused look you’re giving him, he caught it. This is the Seungmin from last night, just happier, and more euphoric. “Yeah, we should do that. How about we have more tea, and then we get some sleep? It’s been a long day.”

“It has, but I need to bleach my hair”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, I almost forgot. There were a lot of people around earlier, when I…you know, picked him.”

“I can help if you’d like. And make you some more tea.”

/ / /

The orangey-blonde head of hair sticking out from the covers confuses you in your half-sleep. It’s early, and you set an alarm, but you can’t remember why. Last night hasn’t come back to you quite yet. The puppy plush is in the gap between you, and you really don’t remember putting him there last night. But he’s there, sitting up, almost like he just walked up and took a seat. He’s still a mystery, just like his owner.

The bleach job didn’t work as well as he’d hoped last night, because he forgot he just tried to darken it a few days before. It’s still soft and pretty, and even in his sleep, his bangs frame his face perfectly. Lucky for him, he’s handsome enough to pull anything off.

Seungmin squirms, rolls onto his other side, and settles again. Now, looking at his face, you remember why you set that alarm. How could you forget? You have the day planned out with him, and you’re counting on a smile when he finally wakes up. Something put him in a better mood, a mood good enough for a date, and you suspect it was two kills in three days. He moves again, but you don’t want to wake him yet. He looks happy, or at least comfortable. If he’s dreaming, it’s not strong enough to show, so maybe he got a good night of sleep. Again, you think, hope, plead for the same man to be there when he wakes.

His eyelashes flutter a few times, and open slowly. Close again, open. He looks at the dog, blinks, and then he finds you. Your stomach swirls with butterflies as he stares, and finally, after really waking up, a smile pulls on his lips—a sweet, sleepy smile.

“Jal jat-ssuh?”

“Ne,” he laughs. “That sounded good. Did you?”

“I did”

“Is my hair still orange?” He sits himself up and pulls on a piece to check.

Hopefully it doesn’t discourage him from today’s plans. Hopefully he remembers today’s plans. “It is, it looks good on you, though. A very handsome tangerine.”

“Tangerine? Do you like tangerines?”

“I love them”

“We’ll get some today”

He didn’t forget, and he’s still okay. Seungmin’s head falls back to the pillow, eyes close again, but his smile stays on his lips. And then he starts to hum. If this mood lasts long enough, maybe you can finally hear him sing. You let him go for a little while longer, until he starts to quiet, probably dozing off again…

Seungmin is cute when he’s focused, and he’s very focused on the grill between you; poking and flipping the meat, plating it carefully. His mouth is squished to one side, and the dimple on his cheek is especially noticeable.

“You’re good at this”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I’m so used to eating alone. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“I am, too, it’s okay.” You take the plate from him, and he hands you a few of the things he hoarded on his side of the table. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” He takes a very big bite of zucchini, and it takes a few moments for him to get it down. “I feel…pretty good. Better now that we’re eating. I don’t like being hungry.”

“Good. The mall was pretty crowded, so it was nice not being alone. Still, it’s a little overwhelming.”

“We shouldn’t have to do it again for a while. I think we replaced everything you lost, plus extra.”

“Too much extra”

“No, not if it makes you happy”

Happy Seungmin is still here, and now he has a full stomach...even better. You can’t get attached to this feeling, but you’ve become much more attached to him than you thought was possible it such a short amount of time—all of him, good and bad…and the bad still seems to outweigh the good by a lot. It doesn’t seem believable, looking at him right now, but this was him the day you met, you think. Maybe not completely, because he was obviously on the hunt when you showed up, but this Seungmin was there, a little bit. You could feel it—he felt right. He still does.

“Sitting here with you makes me happy”

He stops stirring his broth and looks at you. Was that too much? It was too much, you might as well have just told him you love him. What if you trigger something, and whatever is going on in his head changes completely? You need to get a hold on whatever is going on in your own head. He’s staring, and you can feel it, even with your eyes fixed on your plate.

“Why?” He whispers. You barely hear it, and it’s as if he’s speaking to himself. Asking himself. “I haven’t done anything to make you feel that way.”

“Yes you have”

“Tell me”

The server interrupts with more banchan, more water, more tea. It gives you a whole ten seconds to think, and not sound like an idiot when you answer. Does he really want to know, or is he just putting you on the spot?

“You came back for me, and you took care of me…do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“I tend to forget what I say, apparently”

There’s some attitude in his voice, and you immediately regret saying it. He obviously remembers you asking him the same thing yesterday morning.

“I remember. Depends, though, I said a lot of things.” He moves his eyes around as he thinks, and you’re relieved to see a smirk pop up. “But I assume you’re referring to…killing anyone who touches you.”

He did say a lot of things last night, but yeah…you nod at him.

“You liked that.” No more attitude. He whispers, almost growls under his breath. “Didn’t you?” His eyes are so heavy, and dark. He’s still smiling, but it’s different. It’s so much different. “You did.”

“Maybe”

“Speaking of that..someone in here has been staring at you since we walked in”

“I doubt that”

His eyes move slowly to the left, and stay there. You look in the same direction as discreetly as possible, and you see who he’s talking about—it’s the bartender, and Seungmin is right. He wipes down the bar and smiles at you, but looks away almost immediately after. Maybe the timing was just a coincidence, though.

“He’s just looking. He barely looked.”

“I don’t really like that, either”

“Seungmin”

A shiver runs over you when he says your name…whispers it. “Why don’t you get up and head to the bathroom. Leave the door unlocked.” He cocks his head to the side when you don’t move, or respond. “Please.”

He smiles when you push your chair back, and shows you all of his teeth when you stand. Still happy. If this keeps him that way, he doesn’t have to ask again—as if you'd deny him. Your legs already shake at the thought of him touching you. The bartender's eyes are on you as you walk by, and you feel them linger as you disappear down the short hallway toward the (luckily) private bathroom. You close the door, lean against it, and look around. It’s nice, at least.

Thirty or so seconds pass between you closing the door, and his soft knock. You don’t know why your heart races. It could be that you’ve never done this before, and it doesn’t help that the bartender saw both of you come back here, and he knows exactly what’s going on. If you’re nervous enough, you won’t be able to do this, and he’ll be very disappointed.

The doorknob turns, and he comes in slowly. It’s just Seungmin, there’s no reason to be nervous, and it’s just public sex…very public for you…but your stomach drops when you see someone else…not him, not even close. You only see the face for a split second before he disappears—pulled backward so fast, and with so much force, the door slams shut again. A thud on the other side of the wall echoes through you, through the bathroom, and you have to assume through the entire restaurant. And then, right before you pull the door open, you hear it again. The man—the bartender, is on the floor, flat on his back with one hand covering his bloody face, and there’s a crack in the plaster wall. Seungmin is standing over him, still seeing red, but showing some restraint by not touching him again.

“Wh-what happened?”

He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “Naleul bwa...” He nudges the man with his foot until he removes his hand and looks up. “Creep.”

A small crowd gathers at the end of the narrow hallway, but he pushes through, still holding you close. Nobody says a word or stops you as you grab your bags and head for the door, and as soon as you get outside, you’re both lost in the crowd.

“Stop, stop…Seungmin!”

“Yeah, what is it?” He slows down, but he doesn’t stop. “You okay?”

“What the hell happened?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s walking you as far away as possible, as calmly as possible. The look on his face is familiar, but different…nervous, worried, excited maybe. You can tell his adrenaline is sky high, and you don’t know why, but you assume this is unusual for him—this somewhat random act of violence. Almost everything you’ve witnessed from him has been disjointed and clumsy, but he hasn’t been caught yet, so you know he’s been careful up until this point. You’re messing him up.

Finally, he stops and lets you catch your breath.

“We’ll head back, drop your things off…”

“Seungmin”

“I’ll drive us to Uljin, if you still want to get flowers”

“Uljin?”

“Yeah, let’s go before we miss the train”

The train is crowded, of course—standing room only, and Seungmin’s fingers grip your wrist the entire time. He’s clearly overwhelmed and soothing himself; there’s nothing romantic or possessive about it, he’s just suddenly very nervous about something. Either the crowd, or what just happened. You change the subject for now, not wanting to move his mind around the incident anymore than necessary. “Uljin is far.”

“I know. I can get us there in three hours, and if you’re tired we can wait until morning to drive back.”

You close the space still left between you, until your face grazes his sweatshirt, “why so far for flowers?” The small corner of the silk handkercheif just pokes out from his back pocket. You didn't notice it before, or catch him putting it there before you left this morning.

“They’re the best ones. And they’re always there for me.”

The ride wasn’t as long and awkward as you feared it would be. Both of you were silent most of the way, but Seungmin kept his music low the entire time, not once deviating from whatever playlist he initially put on. It feels like he’s made this drive more than a few times, and he has a set routine. As you moved closer and closer to the end of the drive, everything became greener, and darker. Lush and beautiful in some spots, but desolate and almost forgotten in others. It all seemed to reflect him.

You’re not sure how far out you are from the destination when he makes the second and final stop, but it’s been three hours, almost exactly, so you wonder why he made another stop at all.

He doesn’t go inside the gas station, but you do. For no reason, really. You check yourself in the bathroom mirror, grab some water, and then watch him for a moment before leaving. Maybe he just needed to stretch his legs—he’s walking slowly toward the edge of the pumps, and then across toward where a small section of woods start. It zig-zags upward and into a much larger section that you can’t see the end of. Seungmin is staring through those trees, hands in his coat pockets, and he doesn’t move when you exit and jingle the bell above the door.

“Here, you haven’t had anything since we left.” He looks at the bottled water in your hands, sighs, and takes it.

“About twenty minutes…we should be there”

“Where exactly is there?” Seungmin downs half of his water before stopping and taking a breath. It’s cold out, but sweat is beading on his forehead and around his temples. You reach up and touch his cheek with the back of your hand, and he turns his head away. “Sorry. You’re very warm. Do you feel okay?”

He nods and takes another long drink, “there is the house I grew up in.”

“Oh.” They’re the best ones, and they’re always there for me makes much more sense now. It’s sentimental. The flowers here are special…special enough for a six-hour roundtrip drive.

The remainder of the trip takes you further into the woods. The road narrows, and the pine trees get closer and closer until, every mile or so, there’s a break in the woods, a clearing, and you can see the sky as it slowly darkens. You know when you arrive, because there’s one lonely hanok in the distance. Seungmin sighs again. He never turned the music back on, so you can hear every sound, and every breath. The snap of twigs under the tires, the chirp of bugs, and the chatter of a few magpies fills most of the silence.

“You grew up here?”

He doesn’t answer until you turn and look at him.

“Yeah, until I was nine. And then…” he can stop there. He doesn’t have to tell you every single thing. You’re just making conversation, not setting him down for therapy. “I got passed around to different family members.”

“Were they good to you?”

Somebody certainly wasn’t, and Seungmin knows you know that. He can feel you looking through him, gathering up his thoughts, and his feelings, and figuring things out on your own. “Yes, my grandparents did the best they could, and my aunts…they did, too.”

His answers just make more questions, considering his life now, but you’ll save them for another time.

The car comes to a slow stop. The house is dark and overgrown, but still somewhat looked after, you assume because of him. To your left is a large garden shed, not as well kept. Once, it was probably nice, but time was not kind to it. A little further down is a large greenhouse, also starting to show its age, but it’s iron and glass, and it’s standing strong without much help.

“Good”

“I wasn’t…uh,” he stops himself this time, and reconsiders. Instead of finishing his thought, he opens the door and steps out.

You do the same, and as soon as you stand and close the door, something hits you. It hits your chest, and works its way down to your stomach until you can’t stay on your feet. You kneel, trying not to fall onto the cold, damp ground, but your hands spread out in front of you as you lean forward and empty the contents of your stomach onto the grass.

“Fuck…what happened? Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Maybe.”

“Do you get car sick?”

His hand on your shoulders takes you back two nights, and the memory makes you feel a little bit better. Opening your eyes and staring into the distance makes it worse again. “No.”

“You’re warm, too”

“Maybe we should do this tomorrow, if we’re staying the night." After the long drive, Seungmin might want to do it now, so why are even asking? But you also know he doesn't feel well. The fever heat between the two of you could bloom more flowers. "We should."

“We can," he says, secretly a little grateful, “I’ll find a room somewhere”

He pulls you to your feet, and it feels awful, but once you’re up and leaning against him, the dizziness is gone. “We’re not staying here?”

“No, we wouldn’t be very comfortable in there”

/ / /

The sick feeling passes eventually, and the room Seungmin finds at the last minute is not far. It’s small, and it’s comfortable. He’s working on the instant tteokbokki a few feet away, very focused, just like he was at the restaurant.

“It smells good”

“Feeling better? We have frozen bungeoppang, too. The hosts are very generous, we got lucky.”

“Lucky, even with one tiny bed?”

“Yeah, even with one tiny bed,” he laughs, and looks at the twin-size bed tucked away in the corner. He’s reminded of the one in your apartment that he never got to try, and he’s surprised his mind can even go there right now. The memory of his last trip home is mostly a blur, even though it wasn’t more than a day or two before you showed up. “Let’s eat, and get into bed.”

Still happy. So why are you suddenly feeling so empty? “I don’t wanna go to sleep yet.” You pick at and stir your food, and watch him devour his. “Hey…”

“Yes?”

“What happened earlier, at the restaurant?”

He was hoping you forgot about that. Seungmin isn’t typically violent unless he plans on seeing it to the end, so today was unusual. He keeps himself out of sight, and out of people’s memories, because he can’t afford to be noticed that much. He doesn’t regret what he did, though, and he has no problem admitting to himself that it felt good. “Before I got up, he started following you. He watched you walk by, and maybe you looked at him and he thought it was an invitation…or he’s just a piece of shit taking advantage of the opportunity.”

“I don’t think I looked at him”

“I caught up, just in time”

“And smashed his face into the wall”

“I didn’t know what I was going to do, but yeah, it seemed like the best choice at the time”

“It was effective”

“Still ruined our moment.” Seungmin’s eyes are tired, but he’s obviously nudging you into bed for more than just sleep. He wants to make up for whatever lust was building inside of him earlier, and you haven’t told him no a single time yet. Why would he expect you to tell him no tonight? But you’re feeling off—much more than just tired. It may have been the adrenaline rush earlier, combined with the very long car ride. It could just be the new setting, because the new setting reminds you a little bit of home, right down to the claustrophobic woods and this 300 square feet of living space.

“Maybe we should go to sleep.” You say, staring hard at your food as you eat. “It’s been a long day.”

/ / /

The twin bed is perfect, at least for you. Seungmin backed himself against the wall and kept his hands to himself after you crawled in beside him, and luckily, there was nothing but sleep for both of you almost immediately. A sharp pinging sound wakes you, and you open your eyes to him at the tiny kitchen counter. The sound you hear is sleet falling against the window, and the realization makes you shiver under the covers…but the smell of brewing coffee brings you right back.

The icy rainfall picks up as you force yourself into a sitting position, but staying up is still hard, regardless of his soft good morning, and his eyes peeking over his mug.

“Morning.” The headache has been there for a while, but you’re conscious now, and really feeling it. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost eleven, we slept a lot”

You count to three and force your feet onto the cold floor, “doesn’t sound like good driving weather out there,” and make it to the other stool, where now you see an empty mug and a plate of warm bungeoppang. Without a word, you reach a hand up and set it on his forehead. “How did you sleep?”

Seungmin doesn’t shake it away, but he gives you a confused look, and he shrugs. “I slept.”

“Did you have any dreams? Nightmares?”

“The usual. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Because you had one, too. “You had a fever yesterday. It’s gone.”

“I think you took it from me, you look miserable”

“Do I?” Miserable is a strong word, but the headache, and the slightly off feeling is definitely close. Maybe you’re allergic to something up here. You make a mental note to take something for that, and for the headache, just in case.

“As soon as the rain stops, we’ll get what we came for, and then head back. Eat something.”

/ / /

The drive through the narrow forest road is even crunchier this time. Tiny icicles hang off tree branches, and no bugs chirp this time…no birds sing. It’s somehow darker this afternoon than it was yesterday at dusk, and the low mist hanging over the property makes you wish you would have just gotten this over with yesterday. Something strange is definitely living in these woods It’s beautiful, though, in its own lonely way. It’s still very alive here and it breathes easily through the cracks in the wood.

Seungmin is quiet, and you expect that. Whatever you’re feeling right now, he must be feeling it threefold. This is his home—or it was, at least, at a very important time in his life. The memory of why he had to leave is still lingering here.

Greenhouse is all he says as he steps out. You follow, and this time, you feel okay when your feet hit the ground. The headache is still there, but not so bad that you can’t fight through it, so you catch up with him and try not to lose your footing in the soft, muddy ground.

“Take your time, it’s uneven down here”

You watch each step as you take it, and weave around the stones and spots where the grass is drowning from the melted snow and ice. Some spots are still slick, so you wonder how anything could possibly be hanging on mid-December…especially what he came for. Even inside the greenhouse. You catch a shine of light from the corner of your eye and stop, even as he bolts ahead of you. Something in the ruins of the shed catches what little bit of sunlight makes it through the clouds.

"Come on..."

The boots you wore could have been better; could have been worse. Seungmin’s Redwings are splattered and caked with mud, old and new, because he knew what he was getting into up here. These are specifically the boots he wears here, you think. No hunting, no murder, no body disposal. Every job has its own equipment.

It’s even prettier up close, and inside, through the condensation rising up every perfect panel of glass, you see green and yellow. Purple, and blue. He opens the door to the anteroom, and the sweet smell of flowers fills you up. When he opens the main door, the warmth still trapped inside almost knocks you on your back.

“Does someone tend to this all year, or…”

“No.” He heads to a workspace in the corner and picks up a pair of gardening shears, a little rusty, but probably still very sharp. “Nobody comes here but me.”

“I like it, it’s nice”

“Yeah?”

You catch up to him and nod, “mhm, I don’t like it outside, but this is better.”

Seungmin leads you to the spot filled with purple flowers. Some of them fill big decorative pots, and some are elevated on homemade wooden shelves, but the largest ones are in the ground. It’s a little bit chaotic, but something about it feels organized at the same time. It’s everywhere, but it’s everywhere exactly where somebody wanted it.

“I see why you came all this way. It’s yours.”

He doesn’t answer. Seungmin lowers himself to the ground and kneels, and you watch as he does nothing for a very long time. The sounds of the greenhouse take over; the creak of the panels as the wind outside hits, and the cries of the bugs. Whatever insects managed to make a home for themselves here are very happy. And it isn't until now that you notice the sound of a single windchime. You find a spot to sit and wait, but you keep your eyes on him. Eventually, after more of his silence passes, it feels as if you’re intruding on something very personal, so you stand, quietly turn away, and focus your attention on a different spot; on different flowers.

What he’s doing over there is more cathartic and necessary than you can imagine.

Seungmin is always careful about how much he cuts and where he cuts from. Some blossoms seem brighter than others, and those are the ones he knows he can take. But before he does anything…

“how have you been?”

It’s exceptionally quiet, and his voice, so soft and light, carries in the small space. At first, you assume he’s speaking to you, because he’s speaking English. But he’s not. You can’t block out his words, so you walk as far from him as you can in an attempt to give him some privacy, but…he knows you’re here. He invited you inside knowing what he was going to do.

“Okay, I guess…sometimes it’s tough to tell from the inside”

Silence. He waits a few moments before speaking again…

“I am, I promise”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　　

“I know, I’m not alone this time, isn’t that strange? It feels so strange”

⋆ .   　　˚　　 　　*　　　

“Yes, it’s a good thing, I know”

　✦　˚ 　˖✶

“I’m trying really hard, I promise”

The silence is much longer this time. You think he might be finished, but he speaks one more time…

“Saranghaeyo…I love you, too”

You finally turn and look at him through a cluster of forget-me-nots, and he’s bowing so low you can hardly see him. The sound of the shears opening and closing finally comes, and you see him very carefully trimming what he needs. Two bundles. He takes both to the workspace, ties them with string, and wraps them gently in dark brown paper. The amount of care he takes is impressive, and he doesn’t rush through it. You take the opportunity to move closer to the blooms of heliotrope, but not too close. Just enough to admire them. They look like they just saw a warm, summer day, not the cold, icy morning you woke to. You almost forget it’s December as you stare at them.

“I’m ready, if you are.” His voice, still gentle, makes you jump.

“Yes, I’m ready”

“Oh, hold on.” Seungmin walks to the corner where you hid, looks around for something, and after a few minutes of him moving things around, digging, pulling, and digging again, he returns with dirt-covered hands and a small pot filled with the little blue flowers. “We’ll take these, too.”

He hands it over, and you hold it close as you start toward the cold again. The rain begins to fall as you carefully make your way back to the car, but it’s just a fine mist this time, no more ice. The bundles of heliotrope are placed in the backseat, but you hold tight to your flowers. Seungmin never implied they were yours, but you know they are. The forget-me-nots are for you.

The closer you get to Seoul, the more withdrawn you feel him becoming. There was some conversation this time, very minimal, and very light, but you said nothing of Uljin, or the greenhouse, or the conversation he had with the flowers. It slowly dwindled until it became a painful silence; no music, not even a contemplative sigh from him. You held your flowers and stared out of your window until the countryside slowly turned to small town, to city, to busy highways, and finally…home. Home?

“I’ll be gone for a few hours”

He tended to his flowers first. One bundle in the vase, the other tied and hung on the side of the window nearest the kitchen.

“Gone? You’re leaving?”

“Haven’t we seen enough of each other over the last two days?”

“Uhm…” Yeah, you guess so. “Sure.”

“I have to get rid of that body, and the carpet. It might take a while.”

The body. You completely forgot about two nights ago. How could you forget about watching him kill someone right in front of you? Luckily, Seungmin didn’t. He may have kept it at the front of his mind this entire time.

A quick change of clothes, and he’s gone without another word or glance in your direction.

The last two days and the night before was more than you expected from him—but enough? How could it possibly be enough? Whoever you were with today in the greenhouse, and in bed with yesterday morning; there’s so much of him you haven’t seen yet. You’ve barely met him. This was nowhere near enough.

So you shower and sort your things from your two shopping trips in an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But where to put them? Not in his drawer, because you need permission for that, and not in his neat, organized (full) closet. Eventually, you decide on folding and setting most of it on the chest near his bookshelves. The vase of flowers sit brand new and bright and fragrant exactly where the previous ones did, and now you have a chance to really look at them; you touch the delicate little petals and lean forward to take in more of the scent, and you wonder what exactly all of this means to him, because it’s something very special. Some of it you think you can figure out on your own, but you know there’s much more.

The flowers send your thoughts back to the music box. Your fingers itch to touch it again—to pick it up and turn the key, so you do. Seungmin isn’t here, and he might not be back for hours, and maybe he wouldn’t mind you looking at everything more closely. He didn’t seem to mind the first time. You pick it up and examine it in the low light. On top, there's a design burned and stained into the wood: a cloud-covered full moon shining down on a leaping rabbit. You turn the key three times, and hold it as it plays a sweet, sad melody that you don’t recognize. Inside you see the necklace, the one that looks almost exactly like yours, a silver bracelet, and a ring that could only be a wedding band. There’s a small piece of worn paper tucked into the corner, folded into the shape of a butterfly, and you leave that alone. You can see little bits of Hangul written on it, so clearly, it’s some sort of note. Even if you could read it…well, you could always use your phone and translate it—no, it’s none of your business.

The drawer could be your business, though. You’ve already seen it, and you can’t imagine it’s much different now than it was that night, but just thinking about it gets your heart racing.

You click his lamp on first, and look at everything sitting on the table. These are things you haven’t done yet, and there are so many little details about him still to learn. His glasses sit in their open case; a pair of thick black-rimmed ones, not the ones you’ve seen him in. His other ones, the ones that suited him so well, were round metal frames, and they’re not here. His silver Chanel necklace is here, and two prescription bottles that you never noticed before. KIM SEUNGMIN is written on the side of both—lorazepam (the little white pill he offered during your panic attack) and haloperidol. The haloperidol doesn’t look like it’s been touched, but the other is nearly empty. So, he has been diagnosed with something, and medicated for it, he just hasn’t followed through with his treatment. Maybe he’s tried, and it didn’t work—or it didn’t work the way he wanted it to. Finally, the drawer. It’s a little messier than you remember, but not bad. He probably hasn’t touched it since he killed two nights ago because the knife isn’t back in its spot. The sheath is there, and the cuffs, the gag. You carefully pick up one of the syringes and examine it, turn it so you can see the liquid inside move around like a tiny lava lamp. Still three of them. Further back, you feel something else. Something small. It’s an earring, just a tiny gold cuff, and it looks familiar. You reach and touch the top of your left ear, and you realize it’s yours. It must have fallen off while you slept, and he found it, and threw it in his drawer…but why didn’t he just return it?

Just as you put it back and turn off the lamp, you hear the click of the lock. You’d like to stay up and greet him, but if he’s still in the mood he was when he left, it might not be worth it. Instead, you climb under the covers and turn off the lamp on your side. He doesn’t come in right away. You can hear him go straight to the shower, and you stay awake and listen the whole twenty minutes he spends in there. Next, you hear him in the kitchen, and the thought makes your stomach growl. You haven’t eaten since midway through the ride home earlier, and that’s hardly worth mentioning. Maybe you should get up and see him, eat with him, if that’s what he’s doing. But you can’t move. You look at your phone: 9 pm. It’s not late at all, but the dark and the cold makes it feel so much later.

As soon as you smell coffee brewing, you decide to get up and check on him.

Seungmin is sitting in the kitchen, elbows on the counter, head down, face completely hidden in his hands. You can’t actually go out there and face him—no, you’re going to be a coward, because the possibility of his anger, no matter how small, is already making you tear up. But his little movements, the shake of his shoulders, make you think that’s what he’s already doing. You push the door up and slink back to bed and under the covers, and this time you somehow fall asleep.

/ / /

The cold air and smell of cigarette smoke wake you, hardly half an hour later, and as soon as you open your eyes, Seungmin slides the balcony door closed. You briefly shut them again when he walks up your side of the bed, and heads to his bookshelf. He looks at the flowers but does nothing else, and because he turned his lamp back on, you can see his face, and you can tell he was crying. He lifts his arm and wipes his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, so you have to assume he just managed to stop while he smoked.

He stretches his neck, pulls his sweatshirt off, and heads for his side of the bed. You feel the blankets shift, and the movement as he sits and slides himself underneath. Then you hear the rattle of a pill bottle…the full one, but you don’t hear him remove the lid. He shakes it again, as if he’s looking at it and thinking, but places it back on the table, unopened. You’re relieved when he finally settles onto his pillow. You can relax again, maybe even turn and face him in your pretend sleep, but you don’t get a chance; Seungmin moves closer, and closer. You try not to jump when his hand slides hesitantly up your arm, over your shoulder, and then back down. He moves once more, until his chest can press against your back.

You’re positive he can feel your racing heart, your erratic breathing. His steady breath is traveling down your neck, under the collar of his tshirt you’re still wearing. Should you say something, let him know you’re awake and here with him? It’s possible the thought of you sleeping while he does this makes it easier, and you don’t want to ruin that, so you wait. His hand is on you again, but the touch is still hesitant and stuttery. Seungmin is thinking about his next move. He’s unsure.

After a few more moments, it slides between your arm and your waist, wraps around your stomach, and gently squeezes. He’s pulling you tight against him, finally, all of him. His forehead rests against the nape of your neck; his hips, his thighs, all curve and surround you. Skin on skin, warm under the blankets. You wait until you feel him relax, then set your hand over his…

“Oh, did I wake you?”

“No, you didn’t.” You feel him pull his hand back, but you hold tight and lace your fingers with his. “You didn’t.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Not long, I heard you coming in from the balcony.” Seungmin isn’t as relaxed now. You can feel his body tense, and his breathing change. “I felt you climb into bed.”

He pulls away again, and this time, he escapes your grasp. Seungmin pushes himself back, and when you turn to look, he’s already facing away, readjusting himself back into his spot.

“Seungmin?” Does he think you saw him crying? He must, and he’s right. Should you tell him he’s allowed to do that? “Can I come over there?” You whisper. “Please.”

“If you want to”

“I do,” you crawl to him and get back under the blankets, but instead of wrapping an arm around his waist, you grab his hip and pull until he’s flat on his back. “If…you want me to,” you really hope your smile will spread to him, but he just looks exhausted. His eyes are red and swollen, and his face is pale.

“Say it again,” he mumbles.

“Say what?"

Seungmin lets you push the hair away from his forehead and out of his eyes. “My name."

“Your name?”

He nods and closes his eyes, so your gaze drops to his lips—you haven’t kissed them in a long time, and now seems like the perfect opportunity. “Seungmin.”

“Mm, I like the way it sounds when you say it”

“Have I been saying it okay? Is my accent messing it up?”

“No…it’s perfect”

You take a chance while his eyes are still closed, first at the corner of mouth, and then a little closer. He doesn’t move, so you press your lips firmly against his. He returns it, and his breath deepens. You think he might stop at any moment, so you enjoy it—the way he tastes, the coffee and the leftover minty sweetness of his cigarette. He stays, though. He touches you. Seungmin’s hand moves to your waist and pulls you closer, and you think, maybe the night will be okay now…but it doesn’t last very long. It’s gone, and he turns his head until you stop kissing. Your lips land on his neck, and they stay there.

“Seungmin” you say again, whispering it slowly and carefully.

“I haven't been feeling very good”

“You haven't? What is it?”

He sniffles, and moves his legs against yours under the blankets. Seungmin is warm, but not fever-warm, and something tells you he doesn’t mean physically. Maybe he’ll open up this door, though. Telling you he isn’t feeling well is already a lock unlocked.

But he doesn’t say another word. What he does do is let you touch—he relaxes again as your palm slides over his chest, down his stomach. You press your lips to his collarbone and make a path across his shoulder. “Tell me what’s hurting.”

“Everything”

“Everything?”

“Almost everything”

"Your body?"

He slowly shakes his head.

"Something up here?"

Seungmin's eyes dart toward you as your fingers run through his hair. He thinks for a long moment before answering. "A little."

"Alright, one more...here?"

His hand closes over yours on his chest, but he doesn't give you a yes or no answer. If it's a yes, which you suspect it is, he's probably not going to give you anything else. You leave it at that.

“Tell me what feels okay, maybe it’ll help a little,” you follow the path you made, returning to his collarbone, and working your way up his neck. This time he’s more receptive to it, and his cheek turns to press against yours. “What feels good?”

Seungmin sets his hand on the small of your back and brings you closer. “Good?”

“Mhm…and how can I make it even better? Let me make you feel good.”

“Bite”

“Bite?”

“Right there, please”

You don’t bite yet, but you kiss him again, lick, and graze your teeth across his skin. “Right here?”

The sound he makes is small, and desperate, like he’s afraid you might not do it. “Please.”

Very cautiously, you suck the skin again, and bite until he makes another sound. It feels like a lot of pressure, but it’s not enough for him. You try again.

“Yeah…like that,” he moans, and squirms beneath you, “don’t be shy.”

The spot you sunk your teeth into starts to turn red, and the marks are there…but you didn’t break the skin. You kiss it, and then kiss a new spot just below it and nibble. When he squirms again, you bite down hard, and this time he sounds satisfied. He grabs your hand and guides it under his waistband, and you bite again when your fingers move over his head, down the length of his cock. You stroke him, and watch him watch you work.

“Don’t stop,” he brings you down to his chest, and when your tongue finds his nipple, “harder please”…you bite, and his hips push into your touch. “Fuck.”

You don’t hold back this time, and you feel the skin break between your teeth. The coppery taste of blood hits your tongue when you lick the spot, and Seungmin makes a sound like he’s never made for you before, and he moans your name…

“Seungmin”

“Mmm…yeah?” He sighs and grips your arm as you stroke, “yeah?” and he smiles as his head hits the pillow. Blood starts to bead from the mark on his chest, and it slowly drips down toward his stomach.

You watch it, then look at him, and the urge to clean it off is too strong to ignore. This is new for you. Is it new for him? Before you get the chance to try, he sits up. “Oh, you gonna bite me?”

Seungmin smiles, shakes his head, “no,” and gets himself out of his shorts, “no, sit back…” he touches you, and slides his hands up your outer thighs, but instead of undressing, they come back down, caressing, squeezing, as if he’s taking a moment to admire you. It gives you a knot in your stomach, the thought of it, and the look on his face. The next time they move up, he grabs your underwear and pulls.

The knot grows; the nervous feeling in your stomach won’t go away, and you don’t know why, because you’ve been here already. You’ve been with him, no panic attack. Again, he touches—very softly runs his fingertips over the top of your thigh and to your knee.

“Give me your arms, hold onto me.” He throws more pillows behind you, and rearranges them while he holds you against him. It feels so sweet and so personal, how he’s tending to the spot where he wants you. “Comfortable?”

“Oh…yeah,” you grip the back of his neck, and the other hand digs into his side. “This is nice.”

“Mm, your nails are sharp”

“Are they? Sorry,” you adjust your hold on him, but he shakes his head as you do.

“No…do your worst. Or your best, I guess.”

The thin line of blood running down his chest is beginning to dry, and the marks you made all over him are darkening. He wants more, though, and you can do that. You gently rake your fingers up his back…just enough to tickle, and then back down with a little more pressure. At the same time, his fingers tease you, ghosting up and down so perfectly and carefully.

You spread your legs in anticipation of more. “Hey,” you whisper. His eyes are wide open, but focused elsewhere, just away from you. He’s thinking hard, or spacing out…you can’t tell. “Look at me.”

A little smile tugs at his lips when he looks up, “hm?” And his eyes are big and shining inches from yours, ready to swallow you up. He pushes his hair away from his forehead and comes in for a kiss, and you’re not prepared. At all. It’s just like the elevator kiss—so deep and eager like he can’t get close enough. You fall back on your spot and pull him with you, and he keeps going, slips his tongue in, and moans softly into your mouth. You scratch across his back, not enough to mark, and he does it again.

Each time, you give him more. A little more pressure, a little slower.

He slides in, and with each push, hits deeper and stretches more. His lips keep kissing, though, like he’s trying to distract from the pain he might be causing as he pushes every inch into you. But with every twinge of pain, you dig deeper, pull so slowly, and feel your nails get close to breaking skin.

When you open your eyes to check, his upper back is so much more red and angry than you anticipated.

“Don’t stop,” he whines as he finally pulls away from the kiss.

“It looks so sore…Seungmin, I dunno if I can…” from here you see old scratches mixed in with the new ones, much older, scarred over—they look like more than scratches. How did you never notice them before? You’ve never seen him like this, in this light.

“You can,” he pants, “please.”

The skin is hot when you touch it, and you wince just thinking about how it must feel, but Seungmin doesn’t make a sound when you graze over it. He does, however, let you know that he likes it when you push your nails in again. One more swipe and you see blood.

You stop, and he doesn’t ask you to do it again—instead, he pushes in fully and stays there, kisses and sucks at your neck, nibbles a little, but nothing like what you did to him.

“Good,” he sighs and pushes your thighs upward, and he starts to move in and out, slow at first, but he can’t help himself. His breath catches as he speeds up, and loses himself in the moment, but still, he stays in your neck, moaning against your skin, and breathing down your back…into your ear where he whispers a fuck…fuck, as if he could come any second.

“Slow,” you knead your fingers into his hip, hold him off a little bit, “slow down, relax.”

Seungmin listens and does his best, but it feels too good.

“We have all night...all night”

But this is what he needs. He wants it now. This will make him feel better. All of this. The sting of his back, the gentle throb from each little bite mark, you squeezing so tight around him.

You place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere…Seungmin?” Then move it to the nape of his neck, being careful not to touch the scratches.

This time, he slows much more, almost stops. You worry for a moment and wonder if the words didn’t fall quite right on his ears, but you meant want you said—you’re not leaving.

“I do want you…all night,” Seungmin smiles, and he lets out a laugh tinged with nerves, as if he’s embarrassed about admitting exactly what he wants, or what he needs.

“Good. Did this…” you touch the spot on his chest, and smear the almost dried blood. Then you touch another. “Did this help?”

“A little”

“Sit up,” you hook your arm around his neck as he rises, and now you can slide onto his lap. “Hold onto me.”

Seungmin holds you where you are, hands on your hips, eyes on the space between you. You lift yourself, and you don’t have to tell him what to do—you’re more than ready for him again, and his cock slides in smoothly as you come down.

“Oh, that’s good.” Seungmin is smiling again, and his satisfied laugh is much less anxious. He grabs the back of your shirt and pulls so he can see everything as you move up and down on him…”neomu johda” he mumbles under his breath, “nice and slow,” lifts your shirt over your head, and both arms wrap around you.

“Much better, yeah?”

His presses his cheek against your chest, and you can feel his nod.

“I don’t mind working for it”

Seungmin laughs again, and turns his face to kiss wherever he can get to; your shoulders, your throat, down your chest to the soft skin of your breast. He’s surprisingly gentle when he gets there, and even more so when he runs his tongue around your nipple. He stares up at you, eyes wide and shining, as if he’s waiting for something…your reaction, your approval. It’s not a side of him you’ve seen—you didn’t think he even had a side like this.

You run the pad of your thumb just under his eye, where a faint scar shines in the light, and he smiles again. His face disappears against you, so all you see is the top of his peachy-colored head. Seungmin squeezes you close before letting go, and he falls back to rest on his palms.

“Cute”

His eyes open even wider, “what?” And he very slowly lowers himself as you push him flat on his back. “Me?”

“Maybe”

“Maybe?”

“You know what would be really cute?” You ask.

“What’s that?”

“You…coming for me”

Seungmin smirks when you laugh, and slowly rolls his hips, “so I can come now?” Your laugh turns to a moan. He does it again, and takes your hands in his. “How’s that feel?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t stop”

He doesn’t. Seungmin rolls his hips, sliding in and out so smoothly, but the stretch, the pain—this pain feels so good, just like his pain, your bites and your scratches. And the pressure as you finally get all of him in, when your body finally slams into his hips, Seungmin moves faster and faster, pulling you down close enough to kiss as he fucks you. He bites softly at your lip, slides his tongue against yours. The kiss throws you over the edge, and your orgasm hits so fast, and so hard, you scream right down his throat. His cum runs warm out of you as he slows, and stops, but you keep kissing, and Seungmin returns it.

“Okay,” you don’t want to, but you pull away to breathe, and Seungmin pulls you back for one more, “okay.” You lay down on him and try to catch your breath, listen as he catches his, and close your eyes to the feel of his chest rising and falling. One hand slides across your shoulders, and the other sets at his side, fingers fidgeting and picking at the blanket, and everything feels good, and normal.

The rumble in his chest as he groans and sighs brings you back a little, but you’re not ready to be back quite yet. It’s too nice, laying here on his chest, listening to the wild beat of his heart. But you give in, and look up at him—Seungmin is just as relaxed, maybe more. You slowly lift yourself off of him, and pull at the blankets, but you’re the wrong way around, and covering up isn’t easy.

“Seungmin?”

His eyes open slowly, and then immediately shut again.

“Turn over, so I can look at your back.” He listens, but this time, he winces in pain when the skin moves and stretches. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Before you get up, you have to give your legs a stretch, and before you can walk, you stand for a moment and adjust. As soon as your shirt is back over your head, you carefully head to the bathroom, trying not to trip in the dark. The hand towels are in the very last drawer you check, but the water comes out ice cold, just like you need it.

You lost yourself with him. Pushing him on his back was stupid, and a few of the scratches broke open even more.

“How does it feel?” You ask, and very slowly drape the cold towel across his shoulders. He winches again, but it’s quickly followed by a sigh of relief. “It hurts now that the moment is over, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as it looks. I promise.”

Even if you do believe him, you can still see the pink of his blood coming through the opposite side of the thin towel. It spreads out and connects and starts to look like angel wings…butterfly wings. You think of the old note in his music box.

“Are there lots of butterflies in the greenhouse in spring?”

“Hm?” Seungmin lifts his head and tries to look at you, but you’re too far back. “Butterflies?”

“Yeah,” maybe you shouldn’t be mentioning the greenhouse right now, or bringing the trip back to his mind, but…he was happy for it. “The heliotrope and the asters, butterflies love them.”

“Yeah, you’re right…that’s why—“ he stops himself and lays his head back down on the bed, “that’s why they’re in there. Why do you ask?”

“Uhm, no reason…it just came to mind”

“We’ll see in a few months, I guess”

In a few months. In the future. That’s a nice thought. Will you both still be here? You look down at him and wonder as you gently lift the towel to inspect. “Do you have any antibiotic ointment?”

“You don’t have to do all that”

“Bathroom?”

Seungmin nods.

/ / /

He stares at you from his spot on the bed, right side up this time. Seungmin is on his stomach still, with one pillow fluffed up under his head and chest. You can’t tell for sure, but he might be a little annoyed at you for covering him in cream and making him stay still.

“Are you going to sleep?” He asks in a small voice. “Are you tired?”

“No, I’m not anymore…but you look tired”

“I’m always tired,” he turns away and pushes his face into the pillow, “or I always look tired.”

“No, you don’t. Just very pensive, and sad, and handsome.”

“Handsome? You said I was cute.” His face is still mostly hidden, but you can see one eye peeking at you.

“Yeah, you’re cute when you think really hard, or when you’re worried”

“So, all the time?”

“All the time”

The quiet that falls over the room is nice—it’s not awkward, or filled with questions. There’s no tension. Seungmin just lies there, eyes closed, comfortable and content, and he doesn’t move when you lay down next to him. You could fall asleep if you allowed yourself, but you could also lay here and look at him for a little while longer. All night. You pull the blankets higher, grab a second pillow, and something familiar catches your eye. The little yellow puppy rolls and falls between the bed frame and the wall, but you catch him just before he disappears. “Do you walk around on your own?” His big black eyes stare silently, and they remind you of someone.

“Do I look sad all the time?”

There they are…they open so wide, and he seems to focus on a spot somewhere behind you—somewhere in the dark where the light doesn’t reach.

“No, you don’t look sad right now”

Seungmin reaches out and takes his friend by the paw, squeezes it. Now he looks sad, as if something suddenly started weighing on his mind. You glance to the table where his pills sit, and wonder, stupidly, if you should ask about them—ask very gently if he’s given them a chance. Not tonight, though. “Does he have a name?”

“Hm? Oh…him, yeah he does. His name is Daengmo.” Seungmin smiles as he says it, but it matches the rest of him; sad. “Daengmo,” he whispers.

“Does it mean anything?”

“Yes, daengdaengie is for puppy, mo is…uhm,” he stops and thinks. Or hesitates. “Mo, for a nickname I had when I was little.”

“Mo? Your nickname was Mo?”

“Mo, or Seungmo. My mom called me that when I didn’t listen…when I misbehaved.”

“Maybe I should be calling you Mo”

The sad look fades a little, “because I’m bad?” Seungmin lifts himself up on his elbows and turns on his side.

“You are, objectively, sometimes. But…” Seungmin does bad things, and you’ve witnessed some of it. He’s lied, and he’s manipulated. He might still be lying, for all you know. But he’s also told you truths. You’re choosing to trust him right now, just like you’ve been since he brought you home, because he has shown you a surprising amount of kindness even though it was clearly difficult for him. “No, I don’t think you’re bad," ...because you think you might be in love with him.

“I’m glad you think that. I am, though. I’m a nightmare."

[dokidokitsuna]

“Some of us…will always be alone”

Skipping forward a bit in this re-concept, just because I can~ (loooong post ahead)

So one of the many things I found underwhelming about Return of the Mammalians is the lack of villainous impact Mr. Grizz has on his own story.

For starters, he’s straight up absent from 80% of it. =/ Just a vaguely threatening disembodied voice that does weak comedy bits with Cap’n Cuttlefish from time to time…and that’s basically it until we face him in the final battle.

The worst thing he’s responsible for in the story (as in, a successful act we have to contend with, rather than a work-in-progress that we interrupt) is dehydrating Cuttlefish…which is very temporary and played for laughs immediately afterwards. We don’t even get the opportunity to engage with this “tragedy” by actively rescuing the Cap’n in gameplay, we just suddenly find his body during a cutscene.

Compare this to Commander Tartar manipulating the player and lying directly to their face throughout the game, attempting to kill the player during the reveal of its treachery in one of the most memorable scenes of the entire series, brainwashing a former protagonist into fighting the player, and then attempting to destroy an entire city while quietly confessing that it murdered thousands of victims just to get to this point.

I’ll let you guess which one of these antagonists feels like a genuine threat, and which one just feels like a disappointment. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, I don’t mind Mr. Grizz being less violent and deranged than Commander Tartar…the two have different personalities and slightly different goals, and anyway a body count isn’t really necessary to be a convincing villain. But I DO mind him being so totally uninvolved, despite being a character that we already knew and interacted with beforehand. Like, at the very least…talk to the player. o_O Care about the player. Do something to interfere with the player sometime before the last minute! The fact that Grizz just doesn’t give a damn about our existence for most of the campaign is baffling from a writer’s standpoint, and heartbreaking from a Grizz-fan’s standpoint. ;_; Notice me, Kuma-san!!

…Anyway, there’s a million ways to remedy this, because it’s such a simple and obvious problem that really shouldn’t exist. ^^; And the one I chose for #re_rise (besides having Grizz haunt the game like an ever-present specter, as explained here) is one of my old tried-and-true favorites: using the villain to parallel the protagonist.

Basically, both characters are lonely at heart. Agent 3 left home for the Splatlands in search of a “fresh beginning”, after spending most of their life feeling like they never fit in anywhere. Throughout the story, we get subtle clues that what they want most is belonging and friendship…which they’re clearly discovering through their interactions with Deep Cut and Smallfry, although it’s not until the climax of the final battle that they can truly believe in it and accept it.

And of course, Mr. Grizz lost his home and entire civilization, and even in the midst of a thriving new one (that he actively engages with through his corporation…!) he’s apparently such a massive bigot that he doesn’t consider it worthy of his company. ^^; Fish-people do not count to him, thus his loneliness is self-inflicted and intensified. He believes his only recourse is to transform the world back into something he can accept.

These parallels, plus the desire-manifesting powers of Alterna’s crystals (discussed in this post) eventually brings the two characters to an understanding of sorts. Without having to exchange words, they can see and consider the similarities of their innermost feelings.

This doesn’t have much of an effect on Grizz, outside of something he might muse about while Agent 3 ascends the launchpad (and maybe quietly internalize as proof that fish-people have feelings too, just to give his last-second change of heart at least one leg to stand on). But it weighs heavily on Agent 3, especially since they’re being physically changed by their adventure in a way that makes these parallels even more relevant…yes, I’m finally gonna talk about what I actually drew. ^^

My idea was that spending too much time around Fuzzy Ooze will affect you even if you don’t touch it (i.e. through splashes/aerosols), just to a lesser degree. And since Agent 3 was the first to actually enter the underground lab spaces and spends more time fighting there than anyone else, they’ve had an unprecedented amount of secondhand exposure to it.

Through O.R.C.A.’s files, they can understand why this mild fuzzification is happening to them, and that it may not be reversible, although they press on anyway (I’d like to imply that they’re willing to ignore it to impress Deep Cut~). But Grizz’s offhand comments make them realize that they may be unintentionally setting themselves up to be cast aside again, slowly turning into a repulsive mutant monster that no one will want to be around. The only one of their kind in the world, just like a certain Ursine Anomaly…and if they succeed in stopping Grizz’s plan, that’s all they’ll ever be. 

…On the other hand, if they were to sit back and let him fuzzify the world, then…no, they couldn’t do that. They…wouldn’t…

[mamawasatesttube]

Sorry, I know you don’t really like people bringing up Jason but I’m very curious. I read Straight on Till Morning several times before really joining Tumblr and I was surprised by how much you seem to dislike him compared to how nicely he was written in said fic. Is it cuz it’s a future fic so he can be more chilled out than in current comics or something?

Feel free to ignore me if you want. Curiosity does not owe me answers.

no worries, i don't mind polite questions! :P

so there's two things. a) sotm was written when the only real comics i'd read were sb94, yj98, tt03, batgirl (2000), and nightwing '96 (iirc - i might be forgetting one or two but the point is, when i was pretty new to comics). at this point wfa had tricked me into thinking jason actually had a consistent character arc that i simply hadn't read yet, and i assumed it would be weird to write a fic where dick, tim, and cass were all around as kon's friends + damian was there being jon's friend in the background, but jason didn't get mentioned, so i worked him in bc i thought that was like. gonna be weird if i didn't, even tho i didn't know what he was doing in postcrisis yet. i mostly just wanted to write about kon and did not yet have the strong "actually i do not care for 99% of post-rebirth comics" feelings i have today. if i were to do the sotm rewrite in my mind, jason would actually still be in his villain to antivillain era because that's my actual favorite era of him. i think it's fun when he's hanging around being like... a vengeful ghost who's just determined to make his problems Everyone's Problem. i'm not really interested in soft angsty daddy's boy jtodd or whatever sdkjfh and that seems to be the most popular version of him i see. it's either soft angsty daddy's boy jason or it's power fantasy cop-adjacent jason who has never done anything wrong in his life and is completely valid in every decision he's ever made. neither of these interests me.

which brings me to b) it's not so much that i dislike jason todd as a character so much as that his fans are so fucking annoying to me. that chapter of sotm? multiple people in the comments were there ONLY to talk about jason, even though the fic is literally about kon and not about jason and he just happens to appear for PART of one scene that chapter. it made me get sick of hearing about him. like theres soooo many jason todd fics out there can you go read those. i want to talk about kon! and i've had people bring him up on my completely unrelated fics too like he doesn't even get MENTIONED like one fic is about clark kon and tim, and someone was in the comments like "omg i bet clark was thinking about jason here" and i was so ... dude. read the room. or the fic even. it is not about him.

but even more than the way a lot of jason fans have this apparently compulsive need to make him the main character of the entire universe, i really can't stand how many of them i've seen spout literal straight up copaganda and/or defense of the death penalty. like they will bend over backwards so hard to defend why he was right to put 8 heads in a duffel bag or why it's morally correct to kill rapists that they start spewing right-wing talking points. and the constant need to make him the perfect imperfect victim ("he's angry and loud unlike GOOD victims--") and all of that just... it really turns me off of 99% of fan content about him that i've seen. it makes me genuinely kind of uncomfortable. like if you think there's a category of criminal that it's okay to execute (without a trial, even) i want nothing to do with you. can you guys just say it's sexy when a man is covered in blood after murdering a room full of people without having to be like "and he was right to do it too!!" because i promise he was not. and if you SAY any of this people will come up with a whole thing about how you must hate victims and/or poor people or some shit. its... really something.

all of that being said - i think there are interesting things you COULD do with his character. i think he can be a fascinating character! with stories worth telling! the family tragedy, the horror story, the vengeful ghost! but at this point with how rancid i find his fanbase i just really only want to see jason takes from people i know will not start spewing copaganda at me + people who i know appreciate tim kicking him in the balls (bc he kicked dick in the balls and tim is a bitch).

anyways. bring back tentatodd 2k25 who's with me

[birdco]

Anyway here's my Licorice Cookie Headcannons.

(This is my head cannon design for him. I made the edit.)

Backstory.

-Licorice was born into the Licorice tribe; A tribe that prides its magicians and known for its strict manner. Which slowly caused a resentment of the tribe to grow inside of him.

-The Licorice tribe has been the victim of extreme prejudice for the Cacao kingdom due to its relation with the Licorice sea. This caused Licorice to hate all other Cacao tribes, specifically the milk tribe.

-Licorice's mother was neglectful of him, mostly letting him live off of history, magic and fairytale books.

-As he grew Licorice began to strive to become a famous wizard in history. And with that, his expectations for himself grew out of control.

-After finding Dark Enchantress and getting information of a growing party-The COD- Licorice turned to the Dark arts because of his insecurity.

-In his kingdom, it is highly illegal to practice Dark magic. And is punishable by a type of crucifixion. So, when found out, Licorice would be persecuted. The way was by a cursed dagger, that from impact (such as a slash.) Would set you aflame. However, after two stabs Licorice would stay alive.

-Loosing himself, Licorice brought a storm upon the Licorice tribe which would destroy the entire village. Aswell as killing all the residents, some he killed personally.

-His mother had cursed him before he murdered her. A curse that slowly killed and corrupted him, his killer being his own magic. Licorice is very much aware of this curse. Infact, he has the curse tattooed on his wrist as a joke.

Alr that's over, here's some semi important trivia.

-Licorice has tried his hardest to recreate life with pure magic. This, being represented when reviving his dead cat (That would become Bat-cat.) Then, creating his best project; Poison Mushroom Cookie. Licorice *grew* Mushroom, and serves as their father figure. He is very protective over them.

-Licorice has a SMALL obsession with Red Velvet Cookie.

-Licorice currently has a "project" going on involving resurrection. He wants to perfect his craft, and make it simple. So he will either grave rob or simply kidnap cookies (typically Red Velvet's enemies.) To test his theories.

-Licorice plans every kidnap, with from what tools to what the air must smell like.

-Licorice has undiagnosed OCD and Autism.

-The reason why Licorice is obsessed with Red Velvet is-first he wanted to power of dating his bosses son.-yet it slowly turned to a romantic obsession as their relationship progressed. What started this obsession was the first time Licorice met Red Velvet. He would taunt and built him until Red Velvet diddled him...

Alright here's the nonimportant trivia.

-IDGAF About the bts update Licorice loves metal with his dying soul.

-Licorice has a terrible sleep schedule, like seriously, he goes to bed at 3 am. (His" job "requires him to wake up at 5.)

-His role -which is rather low- is a scout. Yet at first he was a bodyguard..But that obviously failed terribly.

-Licorice melts when he sweats or gets extremely stressed. It isn't like his skin falling off, but he'll feel his body dribble and shit or smth.

-Licorice has a insecurity about his masculinity, but also embraces it at times.

-Licorice loves to cross dress- privately of course. Yet he'll possibly take photos of himself crossdressing.

-He creates the majority of his clothes because of his sewing hobby.

-There's this large x shaped scar on his chest, nobody asks about it anymore. But if they do its a apparent "exile scar."

-Licorice swears he's straight despite his love for Red Velvet. Infact he's a lil bit homophobic at times when people push into the idea of him being into men.

-Licorice has a tattoo of the Licorice Sea on his thigh (that moves up to his hips.)

-Licorice is VERY tall. This is because he wears bigass boots.

I might update this or maybe another whole ass post about more, but I'm too tired too and I'm gonna eep. Gn.

[uglydollyboy]

What do I feel for him¿ I get that question all the time so I decided to make a post about it. If you want, you can read it completely.

~Dennis Nilsen~

First of all, who is Dennis¿

Dennis Andrew Nilsen was a serial killer known as the Kindly Killer, The Muswell Hill Murderer and the Killer Of The Tie.

He murdered atleast 12 young men until 1983

He liked to be called "Des" by people and he worked as a police officer and a Civil Servant. He died in prison at the age of 72 years old in may 2018 in pain because of internal bleeding. He has a book, his autobiography "The History Of A Drowing Boy" and he has another book written by Brian Masters called "Killing For Company"

He had a dog named Bleep, who was put down after his arrest and he even had budgies named Hamish and Tweetles. And apparently he had a cat too called DD

I wanna clear out that I won't call him "Des" because I don't think he'll let me, or I even deserve to call him Des

Now that you have simple information, I'll put how he was.

Dennis was a very VERY romantic person. If you analize who he was by reading his book and seeing his views on some things and more, you'll notice that he was a romantic, profound, poetic, gentle and unique man. Not to mention handsome as well

He used to love music, cinema and arts. He loved the movie Psycho, loved classical music and loved a painting called "The Raft Of The Medusa"

He was a very intelligent man¡ He was very smart, he had a lot of culture in different stuff. He was a gentle and loving man because of how he acted with the bodies.

Dennis would keep the bodies and the difference with Jeff Dahmer was that Dennis would sleep, dress up, undress and even talk to the bodies. One of his victims had suicide marks on his wrists, and after getting killed by Dennis, one of the things Nilsen thought was that nobody was able to hurt him anymore.

Dennis NEVER had sex with a dead body, the only thing he did was please himself without even touching the body.

Dennis was (you can confirm this by many documentaries) known as a boring guy who had no social life and if he had an idea, he would repeat it over and over and over again.

His views are so profound and so beautiful, changes your point of view on that specific thing immediately

Now that you know that, Let's talk about my twitter.

I used to think that he was just another serial killer and that's it. How stupid I was...

He became the love of my life after I find out who he actually was thanks to someone in twitter, but by the time I find out who he was I was already in a shit position.

I made fun of him and I even talked about how I wanted to fuck him, which made that person in Twitter kinda hate me for all of those ridiculous things I said and posted about.

It was too late, I was stupid enough to disrespect who he was. It's okay to make jokes about him, but not the way I did. What I did is unforgivable.

Now with that out of the way. To finish this whole yap, This is how I feel.

I am in a very deep love with Dennis Nilsen. You did not get it wrong. I'm in love with a serial killer.

I'm in love with a serial killer. Did I cross the line there¿

He is a big part of me, I never felt such deep love and affection for someone, it might seem fake what I say, no need to remind me.

But believe me please, I feel so bad for what I did, making fun of him and more. Please... I'm deeply sorry for that.

I'm so fucking stupid for thinking that he was just one more serial killer. You have no idea how guilty and bad I feel for not sending him just one letter.

If I just knew him before... the letters I would've sent... I cry and wish every night to dream with him but It doesn't work. NOTHING WORKS. Even hugging my pillow every single night

I'm so fucking stressed about this, mostly with the fact that he would hate me if he was alive. I am not a biological boy with blonde straight hair and blue eyes, doll looking and with a lot of culture in music and cinema

I'm an ugly person who thinks he is a boy. I would SACRIFICE, I want to sacrifice who I am just for him to like me as a person or friend atleast.

I keep suffering for a dead man that would never like me no matter how much I change, how much I try. He will never like me as much as he would like Zeynep.

I try and try and try to get into his things. But still, that won't make me a better person.

If I could just see him one more time, That's enough for me. Hearing his voice one more time it's enough as well.

He would think I'm such a cry baby and a loser for the things I feel. But atleast he has an opinion of me.

I'm desperate to get something of him, just to feel like he is here again. I have lots of pictures of him in my room, all put around my bed and wall, thinking that he is listening to me talking or doing something else. But reality is that... No. He is not here.

My eyes are swollen from crying last night and my voice is shit for screaming how much I love him all the time. If I just knew him before, I would've sent all those letters I have. Even if he didn't reply to them, atleast I sent them to him, right¿

I know that he hates me, no need to remind me. But I still can't help the fact that I adore him with all my heart. All my friends and family are TIRED of me saying how much I love him.

I... I just want him to read my letters, see me and tell me what he thinks of me. But that's not possible anymore.

I'm currently crying while writing this, sorry Dennis because I'm such a cry baby and a loser.

I spoke to my psychologist about Dennis because I'm confused, I don't know if my love for him is good or bad, so she told me to make a list with good and bad things about loving him. Currently I keep doing that list

I'll keep updating this probably until I'm satisfied, one more time. I'm sorry for all the things I did and said about him, I'm sorry if I annoy you all the time. I understand if you don't wanna be friends with me.

If you reached this part, woah, thank you for reading. I love you

[es05l2k5sl]

5th slasher is Jimmy. A teddy bear brought to life with the blood of a serial killer, that torments the streets of Detroit.

James V. Cyrus.

DOB: 1962

DOD: 1993

Weapon of choice: retractable razor blade

Age: 31

Powers/Abilities: high resilience, playing dead, fast reflexes & movements,

Species: Human (former), supernaturally possessed teddy bear.

Status: Active

Bio:

In the streets of Detroit Michigan, there was a vicious serial killer known by many as the Brightmoor Butcher, others knew him as "Jimmy". Regardless of what name he had, at least everybody knew of his existence. With the very graphic messes he left behind in his wake, it was hard NOT to know him. Brightmoor already has enough crime & dangers on its plate & Cyrus was not helping make the case any better. He needed to be dealt with & fast. With how big the ghetto was, at least someone had to know or see something, so with that the police did some deep work searching & asking around, those that were willing to cooperate that is. Hope had started to shine through when they were pointed in the direction of a common thug just known as "Wybie". Typically associated in petty robberies & drug selling. Although some of his thefts did involve assault, Wybie has technically never killed anybody in his life. A bark & no bite street urchin. Yet apparently some of his victims have recently wound up dead. As according to some people, Wybie's been seen with another man lately. Sometimes with blood on him. After being tracked down & brought in by the police, Wybie is laid out his options & how things aren't looking too well for him especially with being an accomplice to a murderer. But they were able to strike a deal with him. They can minimize his time, give him parole & even protection if he helps them find Jimmy. Wybie not having other options (and just being an overall cowardly punk) he agreed. Starting with revealing Jimmy's full name: James V. Cyrus. Very later on, Wybie met up with Cyrus again, the latter unaware that he's now wearing a wire & currently being watched by the police. Wybie tried to act normal & unsuspicious, but Cyrus slowly started to catch on that something wasn't right. Ripping Wybie's shirt open, he confirmed his suspicion that he sold him out to the cops. Before he could attack his traitor, the cops swarmed in & chased the killer inside of a closed nearby mall. As the police split up to find him, Cyrus broke in & hid himself inside of a closed build-a-bear type store. Only to be found by one of the near cops that heard the noise. While looking inside for the killer, Jimmy ambushed the guard & attempted to kill him but during the fight, the 2 managed to get a hit on one another. Jimmy stabbing the cop & the cop shooting Jimmy. Both places being on their sides. While separated to cool off & regain energy. Jimmy states this'll be far from over for him & everybody else in Detroit & cursed him out before jumping out & lunging at the man only for Cyrus to be shot straight in the heart & die instantly. His body landing on & the stuffing machine, his blood leaking right into the stuffing. Later that morning as the place is being cleaned out, & taking in as much evidence as they can, the store's owner contacted the CEO who then orders everyone out as keeping his business going & controversial free was more important. Being a very rich man they had be rushed out. Including cleaning up & fixing the stuffing machine. Which looks clean. Until you notice the small blood soaked peace that was missed & buried under new stuffing that was soon used to create a brand new teddy bear for a little girl. Unaware of just how alive her new friend really is.

[danggirlronpa]

Hey mind telling me what the story behind Kiyo’s sister is? I’m kind of clueless and only heard one story of the whole thing😅

This got decently long, so I've put it under a cut. I'll add it to the FAQ tomorrow as well, since it's come up a few times!

I will also request that this post not be reblogged to hate blogs or blogs specifically dedicated to "bad" or "disliked" content. As someone who has been harassed as a result of content being circulated in those circles, it makes me very panicked and anxious to see my work on similar blogs. If you do so, I will need to block you for my own mental stability.

In V3 chapter three, Korekiyo admits to mass murder and takes on the guise of his sister to do so. As a result of being nearly beaten to death at one point, Korekiyo created a tulpa of his dead sister (who we'll call by her popular fan name, Miyadera, from here on). He believed Miyadera wanted him to murder 100 girls, and claimed that they were once lovers.

In general, fans seem to take Korekiyo's claims at face value. Which is...weird, considering how obviously the whole thing is a "mentally ill delusional sexually deviant serial killer" trope played completely straight. And that his worldview includes things like "I should kill people so my dead sister has friends." But let's set that aside, and say that, for the sake of explaining the popular fandom viewpoint, Korekiyo is a reliable narrator.

So in chapter 3, when he is on the brink of being cornered, Korekiyo begins to switch between his own identity and the identity of his sister's tulpa. These are the only potential looks we have into Miyadera's personality. To give you the gist, here are all of the quotes while Korekiyo takes on his sister's guise that are listed on the Wiki.

(Please note that the "Apologize" is directed at another student who challenges Korekiyo.)

I'm going to be honest. I have reread this a LOT trying to figure out what everyone else is apparently seeing here that I am not. At worst, this reads to me as a slightly stern etiquette teacher. But the popular fandom perception is that this dialogue implies that Miyadera was manipulating and abusing Korekiyo. I could not honestly tell you WHY people believe this, but they do.

And people ran with that. They ran with that so hard. Every sin Korekiyo commits is pinned down as being Miyadera's fault, and Korekiyo is absolved of his crimes as a result of being an abuse victim. It's similar to the effect you often see in the way people discuss Junko and Mukuro, except that Mukuro does not invoke nearly as much sympathy on a larger level, even though Junko's mockery and subsequent murder of her sister are explicit canon.

Now, to be clear: I don't buy into this. I think this is an extremely generous reading of Korekiyo's character, and that it removed his agency and the horror of his crimes to make him more sympathetic (particularly for shipping purposes - if you glance through the Miyadera tag, you see a LOT of Korekiyo/Rantaro fics with Miyadera as the evil abuser Rantaro must rescue Korekiyo from). I also think that people give too much credit to the canonicity of Miyadera's "possession" when it isn't clear, even in the universe of the game itself, whether Miyadera is actually a tulpa or if it's an identity that resulted from Korekiyo's trauma, like Syo/Jack.

But on its own, I don't care about it THAT much. People have headcanons I disagree with all the time. I don't really like a lot of people's thoughts about Nagito's backstory, either, but I don't think about it very often, and I certainly don't care enough to get mad about it. The problem is...

People are very, VERY violent about Miyadera.

I'm going to ask you to reread the quotes from Miyadera as a reminder of literally everything we know about her personality. And then I'll ask you to read this post.

This...is, in fact, despite all odds, the predominate opinion on Miyadera. If you go into her character tags, there are an endless number of posts like these, daydreaming about doing violence on her person, murdering her, torturing her, etc.

As a Grandparent (25, the age of spinsterhood), this sets off some alarm bells. This is how people used to treat female characters who got in the way of their favorite ships, like Kairi from Kingdom Hearts. Now, that is popularly understood to have been a result of misogyny. It is horrifying to see that it has survived.

Fantasizing about committing excessive violence against a woman...is misogyny. Making up crimes a woman did not canonically commit as an excuse to justify fantasizing about violence against her is misogyny. It is one thing to dislike a character based on headcanons. It is a totally separate matter to participate in and encourage this level of vitrol solely to make a male character more sympathetic.

To clarify: I do not think that misogyny is the sole reason for this interpretation. By nature, Danganronpa appeals to teenagers, who tend to fall into this type of fandom-wide trap more easily. But it is, in fact, more concerning to normalize this sort of thought process among teens and young people. And so I am very defensive of Miyadera's actual character as a result.

[junglefurytrash]

So after reblogging that "Would RJ survive Danganronpa", I randomly got the idea, said "screw it", and so here we are.

Using the Brantsteele Danganronpa Simulator, let's see how well this would go based off purely RNG, with the only adjustment being that a killer is actually caught, because it would be comically silly for the group to vote wrong on Chapter 1 and everything ends there. I know nothing about who will survive, if a Mastermind will get picked and revealed, nothing - This is all being randomly decided and winged.

We start things off pretty wild with a double knock-out of Stingerella and Whiger. J esus I wasn't expecting that right out the gate, Toady won't be happy about that.

Naja and Master Finn wind up pointing fingers at each other during the Class Trial, and some of the other Masters were absolutely gunning for Fran, for some reason..

But none of that got them anywhere in the end, as their friend was accused correctly and found guilty of defeating the two Beasts. Naja gets revenge on the ally he lost.

Chapter 2 begins and iT'S ANOTHER DOUBLE MURDER, GUYS, ARE YOU ALRIGHT??

This time it's Master Rilla and Fran, we lost 2 Beasts with Chapter 1, and now we lose 2 Pai Zhua with Chapter 2, what is going on. Poor Fran, she likely walked in on something she wasn't supposed to see and couldn't compete with someone that could take out a Master.

The votes were m ostly all over the place with this one, but Master Guin and Dominic come under a fair bit of fire - I love the chaos of Grizzaka voting Guin, Guin voting Carnisoar, and then Jarrod straight after voting Guin again.

The vote comes to a tie as a result.

And Dominic is selected, being correctly identified as the killer! Nobody can really believe it, including Theo who actively voted for him. Dominic accepts his fate and apologises; He didn't mean to hurt either of them, but especially not Fran. He just didn't know his own strength.

Absolutely did not see that coming, ohhh that hurts my heart. DOMINIC WHYYYYY. 😭

Chapter 3 is notably more calmer with just one victim, Master Lope. Man these guys are NOT having a good time with the simulator, 2 of them were victims, one was a Blackened, and Guin almost got axed off. Today ain't their day.

We get 2 vote back-and-forths again, with both RJ AND Theo. Swoop and Theo even vote against one another, ouch. Toady also votes for Theo, sounds about right given he kicked a fit over Stingerella fighting Theo in the show.

But Swoop's instinct proves right, condemning the Jaguar Ranger for killing his other Master. Theo fights it, as he would - he refuses to go down without a fight and admitting his flaws - but Lily's heartbroken face is enough to silence him as he realises he can't leave with her.

Damn, the Simulator is getting personal with some of these, first Dom killing his girlfriend and then Theo killing one of his Masters.

Another single-death chapter, Chapter 4 has The Land Overlord Grizzaka be eliminated.

Camille's voted Swoop in 2 trials now, Chapter 1 and now Chapter 4, and Swoop seems to be getting back at her - Those two do NOT seem to like each other. Also Casey voting RJ, OUCH, and Snapper voting Scorch, DOUBLE OUCH. Sides are turning on each other already.

The vote ties between Mao and Naja, and it seems Naja was the culprit. Yeah, that checks out honestly, with the way he was seeking to betray Dai Shi in the actual show I get the feeling he would probably do the same to Grizzaka too.

Chapter 5 starts with yET ANOTHER DOUBLE MURDER. This time it's one Beast and one Pai Zhua, as Jellica and Lily are both eliminated. Carnisoar is the last remaining Overlord, while Casey's the last remaining Core-3 Ranger.

The votes are a bit more organised this time, as Guin is put into the hot-seat AGAIN alongside Swoop and Rantipede. Camille also still does not like Swoop apparently, she voted for him yet again.

But that's not enough, and Guin is voted the most with nobody to tie with - She's finally caught, and calmly accepts her loss. Once again we have a thematic chapter as Guin eliminates her own student, much like how Theo eliminated Lope earlier - I swear this Simulator knows something.

Another double-kill commences Chapter 6, and my heart BREAKS as Camille becomes one of the Victims, alongside Master Phant - RIP the Green Team. I swear if this one ends up being Master Swoop I'm going to screech.

Thankfully it ISN'T Swoop, but I think this is even WORSE. Casey is found guilty, voted by the majority - He and Mao had a back-and-forth where they voted for each other, trying to shirk the blame, but he can't escape what he's done. The team of Rangers is in shambles as only RJ remains, the Red Ranger's hands Blackened by killing a Master and a friend.

ALL of the girls have been killed off now, it's just 10 of the dudes left.

No double-murder this time, that seems to only happen in random spurts by the Simulator, and Snapper is eliminated - Scorch is the only Phantom Beast left.

The vote is generally unanimous, for once so far this Simulator, and I weep again as Jarrod is caught and found guilty. Despair just came so easily to him once his best friend had taken the life of his partner - He had nothing left, and only laughs with tears in his eyes as he accepts his fate, not regretting what he did to be with Camille again.

The Overlords are now entirely out of the Simulator, as Carnisoar is the sole victim of Chapter 8.

Hilariously enough, 3 people all got 2 votes each - Master Mao, for some reason, voted Scorch. Even more amusingly, it's Master Swoop who is found guilty - I guess he had a score to settle with Carnisoar over being the Masters of the Sky.

Only 6 people are left!

Master Mao just BARELY doesn't make it out, and is eliminated by Toady - Of all the Beasts left to axe off Mao, Toady was by far NOT the one I was expecting. But Toady is never caught, and he escapes with fellow Poison Fingers Gakko and Rantipede, Phantom Beast General Scorch, and Wolf Ranger RJ - Though the Poison Finger survives for the sake of his lost love, he survives with blood on his hands, one last strike against Pai Zhua for Master Finn taking Stingerella's life.

I guess the Simulator saw me earlier saying "RJ would probably die in Danganronpa" and said "k bet", though I did also say RJ would make GREAT Protag material, so maybe in this he was the Protagonist! Makes sense given this simulator run, honestly, my guy went through a LOT and is the only Pai Zhua survivor. Dude's gonna need therapy after this one.

Just for some funsies, because the Simulator didn't select one, I spun a wheel to see who would be the hidden Mastermind of the group, and

.. I have no words. his feels scripted but I swear it isn't. IT'S ALWAYS THE BEAR'S FAULT, except unlike Monokuma in Danganronpa THE BEAR ISN'T EVEN BEING CONTROLLED BY ANYONE, NO IT'S FULLY THE BEAR'S FAULT THIS TIME!

These are the final Placements for the Simulator, and honestly WHAT A ROLLERCOASTER. FOUR double-kill chapters, Fran being killed by Dominic, Theo killing his own Master and Guin killing her own STUDENT (plus Jellica), Naja pulling a Beast Betrayal and axing off Grizzaka, the two Masters of the Sky dueling it out, Casey killing Phant AND Camille and Jarrod instantly going off the deep end right after, and Toady getting rid of one of the last Masters left and successfully escaping. A lot of betrayal and vendettas in the votes too, these guys don't play around in Danganronpa apparently because they got BRUTAL.

This was very fun to do, though I wish this simulator had a little more spice to it, mainly the fact there's no Mastermind and no Motive, but hey as the show puts it; Can't win them all, it IS listed as a Simple Simulator after all. Maybe I'll do some more Jungle Fury Simulations in the future; Brantsteele has a Hunger Games one, as well as Among Us, The Voice, and Masked Singer (underrated TV show), so I'll see about maybe doing some of those. :D

[lamaenthel]

"You Lied To Me"

[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: "You Lied To Me."

Coronet City detectives Avana and Freerly respond to a crime scene where a gonk blew some poor Kiffar's head off. Once they get a hold of the datachip, they find out why.

Characters: Ailyn Vel, Sintas Vel, Mirta Gev, Boba Fett, Original Characters Wordcount: 1284

"So bomb squad's cleared it?" Avana slammed the speeder door, took one last drag off her t'bac stick, and tossed it. "Last thing I want is to get blown up by some leftover banthashit that nobody noticed."

"They been over the place with a fine-tooth comb." Freerly, her Rodian partner, poked her shoulder with a suctioncup-tipped finger as they walked to the crime scene. She brushed it away irritably with her lek, scowling. He was doing it to annoy her, he damn well knew she hated the marks it left behind. He snickered and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Don't worry, kid, your purple ass is safe."

"Yeah, yeah." Avana flashed her badge to the droid at the door and carefully stepped over the rubble. The apartment building was nice for the area. The damage was thankfully localized to their vic's apartment. Besides a few cracks in the wall she shared with her neighbor, the damage beyond was minimal. Broken transparasteel shards crunched under Avana's feet like spring snow as she picked her way over to the body. 

"Vic is Sintas Vel. Kiffar bounty hunter, came to Coronet City a few months ago. Born on Coruscant, hopped dozens of planets." Freerly shrugged. "You know the type."

"Yeah." Avana crouched and gingerly poked the ruined cavity of bone and meat that was Vel's face. "And the bomb was in a gonk?"

"Apparently. This was a straight-up assassination." Freerly moved out of the way of an evidence collection droid. "Forensics thinks they found a holotransmitter, though. They're trying to reparse the datachip right now."

"Detectives!" A Human man with tightly braided hair and large glasses waved at them.

"Speak of the Sith." Avana followed her partner to the technician's workstation.

"I've got what looks to be a holovid attached to a timer. When it ended, the gonk blew up." 

Avana's lekku jabbed into her spine. "Were you able to get the message?"

"Sure was. Here we go." The woman in the hologram was young and pretty, pale with a purple tattoo like a block made of three, thick lines that covered almost half of her face; it was a qukuff, Avana realized a moment later, a Kiffar clan marking. The girl was at least part Kiffar, she could see it from the way that she hunched in her chair, tall as a karking gundark. She had a toddler in her lap with thick line markings similar to hers painted on her cheek. "Hi, Mom," she said to the cam.

Avana and Freerly exchanged grimaces.

"It's been a rough few years for us, I know. Between the jobs and, and what happened with Makin…" the woman glanced in the direction of her child. "I thought I could find closure if I found him. If I found my father. And if I killed him for what you said he did to us." 

"Oh, shit," Freerly mumbled.

"You told me he was horrible. He was a cold-blooded murderer, a, a serial killer. You said that he terrified you, made you believe that he'd kill you if he left. You were his victim, and you were afraid he was going to murder me too." The woman shushed the irritated toddler wiggling in her lap. "Mama's almost done, Mirta. Just wait." She turned back to the cam. "So I decided I was going to do something about it. I'm good. I'm damn good. You raised me and trained me. And I'm not just your daughter, I'm Boba Fett's daughter. I can get him. That's…" She blinked again.

"She's crying," Avana said softly.

"I took a bounty out on myself on Tatooine. For return only, I'm not an idiot." She sniffed. "He picked me up within hours. Easy credits for him, right? I don't have the rep in Huttspace. So he picks me up and I don't cause a fuss, and that's when I ask him if he wants to share dinner with me before he turns me in. I had… I had a whole fucking plan. You know pepperleaf—the one from Kiffex, not Kifu, the one that's toxic to non-Kiffars—I had a whole roll of it in my bag, ground down 'till it just looked like the normal Kiffu stuff. I…"

Freerly let out a low whistle. "Uh oh."

"He bought some meat, then we went back out to the edge of town and made a camp. He didn't feel like dealing with the crowds, he said. I cooked that meat real well after I seasoned it." Her eyes unfocused. "I took the bounty out under an alias. But after we ate, he asked me my parent's names. Asked if I was really Ailyn. He knew who I was as soon as he saw the bounty. You know how he knew?" Her big brown eyes snapped back to the cam. "Because I have his eyes, Mom. I have his fucking eyes and you never bothered to tell me.

"There were a lot of things you never bothered to tell me, apparently. Like how my dad wasn't a damn psychopath like you made him out to be. That he almost always brought his bounties in alive unless it was a killjob. That the murder he allegedly committed on Concord Dawn was of the governor's son who got high on spice and raped you while he was at work." She was outright glaring at the camera now. "And you kicked him out for it. Forced him to stay away, convinced him that he was a monster that would end up getting me killed. So he did stay away. He stayed away my entire life because that was what you wanted, Mom. You know what else he did?"

The three investigators leaned forward.

"He made me a savings account. Completely legit, made deposits every single single month for seventeen years. I had no idea." Ailyn's pupils dilated. "You did. He told you about it and gave you all the information. Said it was for when I reached the age of responsibility. Almost a million credits in that account, Mom, not to mention what was in the safety deposit box. Remember about five years ago when you won the lottery?"

"Oh, shit," Avana said again, covering her mouth.

"I didn't bring an antidote. I didn't need one. I'm immune." Ailyn shuddered with the effort of holding back her tears, visibly haunted. "You lied to me. I killed my father for you, and come to find out all he ever did was love me and support me from afar. And then on top of that, you stole my motherfucking money." Ailyn wiped away the tears that had escaped furiously, then fixed the cam with a death glare. "Well unfortunately for you, Mom, I remember everything you taught me, and one of the first things was that you never fuck with a hunter's money, and here you are fucking with mine. And the second thing was to make sure that whoever fucks with your money goes out with a bang so that nobody else gets the bright idea." Ailyn raised the little girl up and shook her hand at the cam. "Bye bye, Mirta, say bye bye!"

"Bye bye gamma!" Mirta sang, waving happily.

Ailyn lowered her back to her lap. "Say hi to Dad for me," she said—her smile was wide, unnerving, and didn't go anywhere near her eyes.

The holorecording ended. The three stood still, silent, completely shocked for at least a minute. Avana glanced over her shoulder to the corpse being loaded onto a stretcher.

"That is one fucked up family," Freerly finally said.

Avana reversed the holorecording and paused on the little girl's face. She had her mother's eyes.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

[none-shall-caricature-me]

Goody - two - shoes discourse has reached the VTSOM fandom. Ugh.

Just finished Vincent : The Secret of Myers, SPOILERS and opinions on its fan discourse below -  ISTG if another person says ‘Vincent should've seen that bad end coming because he was going TOO much down a dark, vengeful, murderous path and EMOTIONALLY - DRIVEN REVENGE BAD 11!!!’ I’ll go berserk. Bruh, ALL THE CHARACTERS in this game are morally grey (less so for Draco, it seems). Vincent is brutally murdering the core members, and people’s issue with that is that he’s apparently also killing those sidepiece employees who were very selfish but not fully evil, just like he used to be. Now, regardless of whether or not he’s killing the less shady workers too (I personally think it’s not clarified so far, though sparing other pawns like him would make his revenge ethically sound), get out of your asses for once and see how convincing ‘BUT I WOULD NEVER SINK SO LOW IF I WERE HIM, I’D STEW IN MISERY OVER MY TORTURE LIKE A GOOD VICTIM INSTEAD OF GOING ON A BLOODY RAMPAGE TO TAKE BACK SOME SEMBLANCE OF CONTROL OVER MY SHITTY LIFE’ sounds.

 Dude, first of all, once you’re self - centred and socially desperate enough join a cutthroat MNC as their top dirty - dealing lawyer -- and then get fucked over horribly despite reluctantly licking the company’s boots -- you’re also self - centered enough to seek vengeance at all costs. And barring the whole corrupt lawyer thing, being self - centered isn’t necessarily bad. An ordinary person wouldn’t have the means to take on Myer Corp. and that’s why most ‘normal’ folks would just give up on revenge, willingly (if they’re of the insane ‘I will suffer in silence and simply expect to get over the horrible destruction of my self like a good girl’ variety) or unwillingly. But Vincent has the genius, the insider info and the wealth to fuck over Myer Corp.’s experimenters - SO WHY WOULDN’T HE ? 

Yes, his ostensible targeting of a probably memory - wiped Vanora is not at all a good move - in fact it was mostly quite dumb and could’ve been averted since altering memories can definitely change a person’s goals, loyalties, personality and philosophy (Vanora at the game’s start, before Vincent intentionally reminded her of her past, was harmless). But Myer Corp sent her to kill him, and maybe he was paranoid that she could be a sleeper agent, BUT most importantly his terrible experiences have understandably fucked him up psychologically and he’s NOT thinking straight at all. Therefore Vanora and those he killed may be brainwashed company pawns just like him, following callous orders for self - preservation or profit, but it’s hardly easy to empathise with that when you’re stewing in your own hell. That’s something smoothly said but rarely done, and very few of you morality hecklers would be saintly enough to pull it off if you were in his place. 

Do you seriously think that ANYBODY is such a dumb baby lamb that they’ll simply get over their life being ruined, having to eat humans to live, suffering long agony; perk up, fix a smile on their face, and try to live out the rest of their life like they’re fucking Jesus Christ a - okay with being crucified ? No, and whether they were a bad enough person to be called hypocritical for their obsession (like Vincent probably is) DOESN’T MATTER. Because the alternative is fucking unrealistic and oppressive (like Madoka Magica’s bird - brained ‘happier ending’ where the puella magi swallow their pain and straight up have to die so that their pain won’t make them lash out in the only way they can). 

Point is, Vincent’s mad fixation on gorily wiping out Myers IS, as far as we know, NOT good, yes. But given his realistically morally grey personality, his trauma and his circumstances, it makes sense. Similarly, his attempt to kill Vanora after HIMSELF ensuring she’d remember her past and calling her loyal to Myers at heart was SUPER DUMB and horrible - but it makes sense given the above. The world is full of Vincent Edgeworth, Self - Preserving Ex - Corrupt Lawyers. Unconditionally loving, naive, selfless Dracos are rare. 

And tbh, I personally find a fucked - up Vincent very interesting, realistic and poignant. I don’t care that he’s problematic because he’s super well - written.

[ouatsnark]

saw a dumb fic that just made me roll my eyes it's apparently an cs abuse fic written by SNOWING who has killlian isolate emma from her family and then hit her and hope and then emma goes running to her parents after escaping. it's ironic they'd write killian wanting to shut emma away from her family when in canon he was always encouraging her to spend time with her family and wanted her to forgive her parents in 4B and stay in storybrooke in the season three finale. they hate emma too fr

Ok here is another installment of "what the hell kinda fanfic did that Regina Apologist just write!"

I am gonna combine several posts about fanfics into this one. So grab some popcorn and come laugh at the ridiculous out of character crap CaptainSwan haters write!

Just a friendly reminder that Regina Mills is the one to have physically abused Emma:

Yes, they do hate Emma. They would rather see Emma with the woman who always put her down or the man that abandoned her instead of the one that always stood beside her: Killian Jones.

And I agree with you 100%. Killian was always including Henry. He was about to die so that Henry would make it back to Emma in S6. He traded his HOME so that he could get Emma back to her family who needed her. Killian would be the last one to isolate Emma.

The characters with the history of isolating their victims would be Regina and Rumple. Regina brought a child to a cursed town where they were doomed to have only her. Rumple killed Belle by taking her away and isolating her from everyone.

So once again, no canon proof that Killian would do this so therefore it's an OOC fic.

I don’t understand why Emma would be mad about Milah. I mean Emma forgave a lot Killian’s past when he was on his journey to hero but Milah being Neal’s mother is the line, here? That just sounds ridiculous. Please tell me they also wrote a fic about Emma finding out Regina had an affair with Robin next to who they thought was his dying wife and she ends up finding that so grotesque that she never speaks to Regina again. Oh wait, yeah who am I kidding they wouldn’t do that.

If they had Emma leaving with Graham then this was one hell of an AU since Graham would’ve been dead by then. I have nothing against Jefferson either, really, or August. But yeah I didn’t see any romantic chemistry between her or August either.

I HATE it when they act like Emma was so dependent on everyone that she must have had to do this, this or that for them accept her. It’s like, no. No, she didn’t. Emma never did a thing until Emma was ready to do it. And her parents would have no say over who Emma ended up with. They were very clear that it was her choice. And as for Henry? Henry was blinded to how Regina was so I find it ridiculous that in this instance they’d have Henry acting like this. He should have been acting like that since Regina abused him. He should've told them "no, don't befriend Regina my abusive fake mommy" but alas the show did not.

Hook throwing a brick through the window? LOL! Hook would be much more direct and hands on. PLEASE. A coward throws a brick.

I am a canon purist so Hook is absolutely straight but he’s been around… I’m sure he wouldn’t bat an eye to anyone’s sexual preferences. He had no issues with Ruby, for instance.

And as you say, neither did Snow! The fact that Snowing tried to warn Emma off of Hook in S3 and encouraged her to let him go in S5 makes it bizarre to me that anyone can say that Snowing pushed Hook onto Emma. The exact opposite happened.

Emma, the Charmings and Hook were accepting of villains and of everyone. Including Ruby and Dorothy. They never once expressed that someone wasn't worthy of their happy ending and they always wanted people to be who they are. So i think it's very tragic that they would want these heroic characters to behave this way to someone they love.

And I spit my wine out at the “they’re saying a child abusing mass murdering rapist deserves to get a happy ending and everyone is fine with it but the savior transitioning is where everyone draws the line”. SO TRUE.

I will end this by saying that if this fic was written to be AU and as an expression of someone’s own trials then that is fine and I hope they find the peace and love they need... but it is in no way supported by canon.

[webtoon-related-tournaments]

Yui is the mother of Kousuke and the stepmother of Nol/Yeong-Gi.

well let's see... 1) drugs her own son and refuses him doctor-prescribed healthcare 2) neglects and abuses her stepson 3) threatens to kill her own husband when he's no longer useful to her 4) tried to blackmail the main character and to have her sent away from town for no reason other than liking to play mind games 5) covers for a sex offender and helps him trap more victims 6) threatened her nephew to have him fired and disbarred (well the equivalent for doctors) if he looked too deep into her son's health history and I'm pretty sure I could find a 7 or even an 8 if i looked closer but that will be a good start

Insanely manipulative, to the point of apparently straight up drugging her son for possibly multiple years???!! Constantly lying to her family to turn them against each other. Even with her 'precious' biological son she repeatedly ignores his boundaries and encourages his worst behaviour, apparently seeing him as little more than a puppet she can use to gain power.

Athalie is the mother of Avaline, the aunt of Camille and the head of her family.

Sold one of the souls of her twin daughters to a demon to murder her sister and twin nieces, “raised” and abused Camille and Avaline, maintained the contract with the demon well into Camille’s adulthood, became a demon by devouring her familiar’s heart and began killing fellow witches, was unapologetic about all this even to the end

[rabbiteclair]

lobotomy corp update:

oh sure in addition to time loop fuckery and sad robots, this game also has soldiers in rabbit gas masks who make rabbit puns as they murder people. and nobody even told me, I had to stumble onto it myself. demerits for everyone

I've only had Evangeline for twelve days, but if anything happened to them I'd kill everyone in this facility and then myself.

speaking of murdering everyone though, I have in fact hit the point of 'ah, the start of the day. [readies pistol] let's kill all the clerks while they're still bunched up.' listen, I've got Mountain, CENSORED, Blue Star, two abnormalities I can't necessarily prevent from breaching, and a few more that are gonna kill a dozen clerks when they breach. I leave exactly enough clerks alive that if CENSORED or Nothing There breach, they'll linger for a while killing clerks and give me time to gather my forces. at that point, even if Mountain does breach, it doesn't have enough victims/bodies around to become a problem.

core suppression complete up through Tiphereth, at which point I rewound because I'd hit day 46. I really did not expect Tiphereth(s) of all people to have just a downright painful conclusion to their main arc, but here we are. every minute that A spends doing literally anything except groveling on his knees sobbing 'OH MY GOD I AM SO SO SORRY' is a moment wasted. I do however find it really funny that the Tiphereth meltdown was a one-girl show. Tiphereth, it's time for your character growth. Not you, boy half, you're already perfect and I love you. Go watch cartoons for a while.

I just finished Gebura's missions, and goddamn. if the game asks me to do another fucking Midnight I am going to blow up the entire goddamn planet. if I have to put up with that I'm taking you fuckers with me. I know this is kinda Arbitrary Deaths: The Game, but every Midnight I've done so far has been some real bullshit in that department. at best they are tedious right up until I make a mistake for two seconds and somebody gets vivisected. the 'suppress 3 unique Alephs in one day' one was a pain in the ass too, but Mountain and Nothing There are fairly easy to pummel as long as I prepare beforehand, so the only real challenge was CENSORED. and getting them to breach without killing someone in the first place.

every sentence out of Binah's mouth is more concerning than the previous one, which is pretty impressive considering that she starts out fairly concerning to begin with. Hokma would probably be just as concerning if I didn't spend every conversation with him going 'wait what. what the hell is he implying??' Instead he's just concerning because he likes A. nobody who likes A can be trusted. Except post-suppression Tiphereth, but she's a kid.

the time fuckery though. THE TIME FUCKERY. practically every line of Angela's takes on about three different meanings as you progress through the game. there's stuff early on that seems perfectly innocuous until you loop back around. the straight linear path through the story is incomplete because there are parts that only really make sense when you're reading them a second time. it's the kind of narrative trick I don't think you could pull off in any medium but a video game. hell yeah. this is the content I'm here for.

although, gameplay-wise... I respect the conviction to go 'this is a game where all the characters are trapped in tedious and painful cycles, so let's get the player in on that,' but actually i would like to be done with the tedious and painful cycles now thanks. I have 119 hours logged in this game and, judging by a friend's comments, I probably have another full loop through the main plot ahead of me, since apparently it's very hard to do both Binah and Hokma's suppressions in a single iteration. At least days 1-30 are downright trivial at this point, and I'm far enough into the game that I can afford to go 'eh, that dead agent was only a level 4 wearing Waw gear, I can let it ride.'

plot-wise, we have reached the point where I've started taking notes, because thanks to all the looping, things not necessarily being told in order to begin with (especially with the weird route I took through the first half of the game), and occasionally clicking through cutscenes at top speed when I should've been in bed 5 minutes ago but the day just kept going and I didn't want to lose the progress, there are a lot of parts I've had to go back and reference anyway. I still feel like I've got a fairly decent overview of what's going on here, although there are some clear intentional holes in the information they've given so far. I think I'm also a single critter short of 100% codex completion, and I've been assured that will help a lot with making sense of things.

[princess-josie-riki]

Planet Z Theory

An Alphabet Lore Creepypasta

We all know the letters of the alphabet from Alphabet Lore, especially the planet Z themselves. And we all know the villainous numbers from Number Lore. But did you know that all of the letters and numbers are figments of a man's imagination inside a dream and that Z was that man? Allow me to illuminate.

Let's start with the Z himself a.k.a. Ezekiel Zimmermann, or Zeke for short. Zeke was a journalist, hearing about the tragedies in his town. Zeke had always felt sorry for the victims of those tragic events and wished that he could do something about it. Unfortunately, that day never arrived when he was caught in a horrific car accident. Zeke had survived, but unfortunately, the car crash put the poor man straight into a coma. The comatose Zeke was put on life support, trapped in an eternal sleep and an everlasting dream of him being a planet and a "Z", with the dead people as letters and numbers.

The first three people were Alejandro Anderson, an albino man and a chill dude, Bradley Blue a friendly man who loves butterflies and Charlie Campbell a cool, yet tough guy. A trio of best friends and the incarnations of A, B and C. Alejandro, Bradley and Charlie all died on different days. Alejandro was killed after being hit by a taxi cab while he was reading, Bradley died in a plane crash while he was bringing a butterfly collection home and Charlie was violently torn limb from limb by wild animals while he was camping in the woods and his bloody remains were eaten afterwards.

Daniel Drew was the next unfortunate soul. He was a happy, loving, cheerful man with a positive attitude. Although Daniel may not be smart, he is actually happy about his life. Unfortunately, his life ended when an angry man came along and beat poor Daniel with no mercy. Apparently, Daniel had accidentally scratched the man's car while he wasn't looking. Daniel died of his injuries on his way to the hospital. D became the reincarnation of the late Daniel Drew.

Ethan Evans was a cool dude and a lady's man just like his reincarnation, E. With a pompadour hairstyle and a knack for impersonating Elvis Presley, Ethan had everything he ever dreamed of; money, popularity, riches, woman, you name it. But all that changed when Ethan was bludgeoned in the head with an aluminum bat by accident during a game of pinata. Ethan's dreams were shattered just like his skull and he dropped dead.

Finneas Foster, a.k.a. F, was abandoned as a baby with no family and was sent to an orphanage where he was bullied by other kids for being clad in black clothing. The caretaker tried suggesting that F should wear different clothes in concern, but F never listened and said that he liked wearing black. He also hated being called "Finn", which made him mad. Despite this, he befriended Noah Navarro, a young man with a loving family who was bullied for being weak and cowardly, during his childhood days, but the bullying made him much worse. Even all his teeth were broken and became sharp teeth. F became cold, ruthless, sadistic and vengeful. In his teen years, F seeked revenge on his former tormentors and grew up as a criminal, involved in countless crimes, including serial murder, mutilation, torture, cannibalism, kidnapping, theft, armed robbery, assault, psychological abuse, terrorism and so on. His only friend, Noah tried to stop him and tell him to cease his life of crime to change for the better, but it was too late. F was arrested for all the horrible things he had done and was taken to jail. F was later sentenced to death via electric chair, making Noah both heartbroken and traumatized as he witnessed his best friend die. Unable to live without his best friend, Noah wrote a suicide note and took his life to see F in the afterlife by hanging himself at the noose. His parents found their son's hanging corpse in his room. F's reincarnation became a certain black capital letter of the same name while N became the reincarnation of Noah.

Next comes Grayson Garcia and Petunia Parker, a lovely couple who soon became G and P respectively. Grayson and Petunia had fallen in love with each other since childhood and they started dating in their teen years. As soon as they became adults, Grayson and Petunia were happily married. Soon, Petunia became pregnant and wanted to have a family with Greyson and Greyson agreed. Unfortunately, Petunia gave birth to a dead baby, a stillborn, much to her and Grayson's horror and grief. Soon, Petunia took her own life and shot herself in the head. Mortified and heartbroken, Grayson mourned over his wife's suicide and isolated himself in his home. One year later, Grayson died from a broken heart. As for their stillborn child, the baby soon became G and P's baby.

Hunter Hamilton, the previous incarnation of H, was obsessed with ghosts, the occult and the paranormal. He used to give ghost tours to tourists to earn money, considering that he was poor. Hunter always loved reading books on ghosts, occult and the paranormal. Soon, Hunter had given his last ghost tour in an abandoned facility when the tourists left him alone. Hunter tried to keep up until he ended up knocking into something that leaked a toxic gas called hydrogen cyanide, accidentally inhaling it. Hunter succumbed to hydrogen cyanide poisoning and gave up the ghost alone.

The next person was Irving Isaacson, a man with a youthful appearance and glasses. Irving was older than he looked, making him cute. The only thing that wasn't cute about him was his death, which was a horrible accident when he got crushed by a car crusher in a junkyard. Irving soon became I.

Jasper Jones was a supermodel with a pretty face. Jasper, unfortunately, was not lucky, just like the others. A fire happened and the poor man was burned alive. J became the reincarnation of Jasper.

Kairi Krueger, the previous incarnation of K, had a huge interest in bugs and insects. Ironically, this led to her untimely demise. While studying the bees, she accidentally knocked the beehive over, causing the bees to go mad and sting her to death.

Leon Lorenzo and Orville Olson, who soon became L and O respectively, were the next people on death's list. Leon and Orville were a pair of rich gentlemen who were not only snobs, but bullies as well. Leon was spoiled rotten by his mother as Orville's parents spoiled their son too. Leon and Orville were like two peas in a pod. Unfortunately, Orville perished from leukemia, which is blood cancer. What made it worse was that Orville was overweight. Leon, on the other hand, had by far the worst death of all the others. Just as Leon was about to attend Orville's funeral, one of Leon and Orville's victims came to him one day with a sharp knife and tackled him, stabbing Leon multiple times. Then, the victim slit Leon's throat, killing him. For Leon's demise, it was poetic justice.

The next lost soul was Michael Martinez, a man who was neglected by his parents and abused by his older siblings. As a child, Michael was bullied for being weak, so he went to therapy. He eventually went to the gym in his teens, hoping to be stronger and stand up for himself. He even took boxing classes, kickboxing classes and wrestling classes for self-defense. In his adulthood, Michael had not only stood up for himself, but others as well. Unfortunately, while Michael went to the convenience store, which was where he used to work, he came across a killer with a gun, killing the other employees. Just as Michael was about to intervene, the killer shot Michael three times in the chest, killing him. After death, Michael soon became M.

Quinton Quisenberry was the next victim and the previous incarnation of Q. Quinton was diagnosed with bradykinesia, slowness in movement. He was very slow, yet very wise. He would always try to warn people about the accidents, but he was not quick enough to get there on time. He was always late to work. Soon, Quinton's slowness would lead to his demise. While camping, he ended up walking into quicksand and couldn't get out. He sank into the quicksand and perished.

Robin Ridley, who soon became R, was a coward who suffered anxiety. Robin had a scar over one of his eyes since childhood after a cat scratched him. He had been afraid and stressed ever since. Eventually, Robin ended up falling into a tar pit and drowned in the tar.

The previous incarnation of S is Samuel Stuart, a reptile lover and a hippie when it comes to reptiles. His parents fight over his hippie lifestyle and his obsession over reptiles, causing a divorce. Even as an adult, Samuel lives with his mother, who still supports him. Samuel's most favorite reptile is a snake and he had gotten a pet snake for his birthday. Unfortunately, he was bitten by his own pet snake, causing him to succumb to the snake venom and whither away.

The next victim was Tony Travis, a muscular man and a skilled swimmer. Tony had braces since childhood. Despite this, he was well-respected for his skill and was a gold-medal winner in any swimming race he did before his death. While Tony was swimming at the beach, he didn't realize that the waters had sharks in them until it was too late. He was attacked and eaten by sharks, resulting in a grisly end for the poor man. Soon, T became the reincarnation of Tony.

Ulrich Underwood was another victim. He was unappreciated and ignored by his peers, making him feel invisible. Everytime he tries to do a good deed, no one seems to notice, much to dismay. His luck went from bad to worse. He put on winter gear, including a scarf, to go for a drive on a cold day. Unfortunately, his scarf got tangled in a fan, strangling him. Ulrich's neck snapped and he died of asphyxiation. Soon, Ulrich was reincarnated as U.

Next comes Vinnie Valentine, the incarnation of V. Vinnie was born mentally challenged. He lived as an outcast, being ridiculed for being a retard and a coward. Vinnie tries to be positive and happy. He eventually died from a heart attack after his cowardice got worse.

The Walker Sisters, Wilhelmina and Winifred, were a pair of dicephalic parapagus twins, siamese conjoined at birth. The twins were born and raised in a freak show and they were respected and given things that people believe would make the two happy, which explains why they were wearing Gothic lolita clothing. Unknown to the freak show or the rest of the world, Wilhelmina and Winifred were diagnosed with depression ever since they were kids. Soon, when the freak show closed, the Walker Sisters went to the hospital to get separation surgery. Unfortunately, there was a surgery gone wrong and the twins died from massive blood loss. Wilhelmina and Winifred eventually became W.

Xavier Xiao, who soon became X, was a man from an Asian family who owned a Chinese Restaurant. Xavier learned kung fu and graduated at a martial arts academy to pursue his dreams as a ninja. He was a black belt, which is the highest rank and won every tournament, yet he is very honorable and kind, even to his opponents. Unfortunately, Xavier had lost his final battle when a cannibal broke out of the insane asylum and broke into his home. Xavier tried to take down the cannibal, but the cannibal threw a knife into Xavier's head, killing him instantly. Then, the cannibal ate Xavier's flesh and organs.

Next on death's list was Yumi York, a kind woman who was a babysitter. The kids loved her and she loved them. But all that changed when she started taking care of a group of rowdy, spoiled children, all being siblings. Yumi hardly ate and couldn't sleep during this. Unable to control these kids, she was about to quit her job when she tripped over a ball left by one of the kids, causing her to fall out the window. She died from blunt force trauma, caused by a head injury and broken bones. Y became the reincarnation of poor Yumi York.

Primus Uno was the leader and don of the Mob, a criminal organization with Deuce Zwei, a mobster, as his second-in-command and right-hand man. Tertius Sanban was one of their most loyal mobsters and hitmen. Their criminal ways eventually led to not only their deaths, but the end of their gang. Primus and Deuce set the bomb to go off in an hour to blow up a police station. But thanks to Tertius' clumsiness, the bomb exploded, killing Primus, Deuce, Tertius and seven other mobsters by incinerating them. Their bodies were never found and their lair was destroyed in the process. Primus, Deuce, Tertius and the dead mobsters soon became 1, 2, 3 and the other numbers. The numbers didn't appear in Alphabet Lore, but that is a different story.

With every tragedy tied to the town, no one will ever forget the names of those victims, especially Zeke. In conclusion, the comatose Zeke would continue to watch over the lost souls in the form of the planet, Z, trapped forever in a world of his own mind, in a purgatory of his own making and a dream to which he'll never wake up from.