#be the change and all but i know my knowledge is terribly limited

[sunflowerdigs]

Thinking about the colors of Loki. Brown is definitely meant to be Mobius' color. It symbolizes reliability, warmth, and earthiness. And that earthiness? It meshes very with the positive aspects of Loki's green (growth, life, nature, harmony, fertility). So, it makes sense that when Loki and Mobius are their best selves, there's this harmonious and almost symbiotic growth that happens, not unlike the symbiosis between plants and the earth they take their nutrients from, earth which has, in turn, been fertilized by other plants.

Of course, the negative part of that is the potential for codependency - you introduce some poison to the soil and it infects the plant and vise versa. Imo, we see that a bit with the torture scene. That scene was great if you're a Loki enjoyer/apologist because, hey, turns out his partner is not only ok with the darker aspects of Loki's personality, he also maybe has some of them himself. However, it also showed us that both Loki and Mobius can do terrible things and be ok with them as long as the other agrees it's a good idea. When Loki and Mobius are working for good, they're great. But if they went bad together, things could get very dark very quickly. I think we also see that a bit in their last scene together, with Loki purposefully choosing a Mobius who is still pruning variants when he wants his blessing to kill Sylvie (who represents a part of Loki).

(Notably, though, with Sylvie's inspiration, Loki is able to choose a different path, and to grow in a way that gives Mobius the chance to grow as well, their positive symbiotic relationship intact - I particularly love that it's past Loki who inspires present Loki's heroism).

It's why I really liked the idea of Mobius, Loki, and Sylvie running the TVA together because Loki and Mobius need that voice outside their little couple bubble to say "hey, guys, this is a terrible idea." Ironically, when Loki and Mobius aren't together, they each tend to be the person in conflict with the systems around them. But they don't like to truly be in conflict with each other (the bickering is almost never serious), so they're each very accommodating of the other and his needs, which is great until...torture.

Anyway, to bring it back, I've always thought that green is a really great color for Loki specifically because it has a very strong duality of psychological meaning. Additionally, its darker meanings (jealousy, envy, materialism) are as well represented in popular culture as its positive ones. Brown has a similar clear duality, though its positive aspects aren't necessarily as easily recognized as its negatives. Which is very like Mobius himself.

[historiasbodyswaps]

I took possession of the body of my boss's son (male possession)

I am a fairly robust man since I work in an office where the salary is terrible, since we are under the command of a boss who seems like a tyrant. I can only say that my life could not be worse, I have no partner, no money, I am alone, and I live in a miserable apartment.

One day in the office at approximately two in the afternoon was when I saw him for the first time, it was that young man so handsome and marked that he walked through the corridors of the office with a strong musky smell, it was none other than Emmanuel, the young son of my boss, God, he was so hot that I couldn't stop watching him the entire time he was in his father's office, always so arrogant at his father's desk with those pumped and muscular legs, at that moment my head couldn't stop leaving to think that I wanted his life for myself, to possess that precious body

Fortunately I had some knowledge on the subject since my grandmother was a kind of witch and I had inherited some books from her, but I never paid attention to them until now. When I got to my dirty apartment I decided to look for them, until I found them in some boxes full of dust that I had in a closet, I knew that this was the time and that possibly there would not be a new opportunity like this.

It was approximately three in the morning when I finally found a spell that suited what I needed. It was my chance. I decided to prepare the potion. After a few minutes I drank it until there was no more left. A while passed and I didn't feel anything. nothing, I was disappointed to the point that I left everything and went to sleep accepting that all this was a farce, I had already accepted in a certain way that my destiny was to be this horrible man and not fulfill my dreams.

This all changed when later in the night my body started to shake, from when I opened my eyes, I couldn't move my body, this was very strange until it all started, my body started to move in an exciting way, I didn't know what was happening. I began to moan from the pleasure of this strange sensation, to the point of contorting myself, I couldn't stand this sensation, until all this stopped.

A while passed and I didn't know what was happening, when suddenly I woke up and thought it was all a dream, when I realized that I was in a different and very luxurious room, surprised I raised my hands and I couldn't believe it, they were younger, softer and muscular, I didn't know what was happening, I got up from that chamber and I felt like my body was lighter, without hesitation I looked for a mirror and it was him, I was seeing Emmanuel's reflection, I can't describe the feeling that passed through me, it was very exciting to the point that I felt a bulge in his crotch, Emmanuel's entire body shook and a picture of excitement began that he could not contain, I had to take off those tight Calvin Klein boxers that he was wearing, and I proceeded to touch that smooth cock that I now had, that experience was incredible that I cannot describe what I felt watching my new body moan with pleasure with that very masculine voice and my abdomen filled with fluids of myself, simply fantastic.

When I calmed down, I kept thinking about everything I could do with this new body, the sky was the limit, I had my ex-boss's credit card at my disposal, this was incredible, fortunately I kept some memories of Emmanuel and they had Living with my experience, my mind along with this body were unstoppable.

The following days I dedicated myself to exploring my body, down to the smallest corner. In the afternoons I spent walking around my enormous house. I had all of Emmanuel's servants at my disposal.

I can say that I don't care what happened to my old body since now I have an infinitely better one, I don't regret stealing this male's body, since he didn't deserve it, he was quite conceited and superficial, but now is my chance to use it at will. In the afternoon my new father will teach me more about the family business, I have put on a tight suit on this body that I can say looks spectacular on me, those silk socks fit my calves perfectly.

In the afternoons I go to my private gym where I put on the tightest leggings I can find, I love the feeling of the fabric rubbing against my muscular and sweaty body.

That was it, I have to go, since I have an appointment to put this well-endowed body into action, being Emmanuel is great and I love that this is my life now.

[syrupgirl]

warnings:

descriptions of blood(like fr), mentions of death, i call neteyam’s injury ‘a hole in the chest’, my very limited knowledge of medical procedures(both human and na’vi), me changing the severity of his injury probably, that’s it methinks?

a/n: this one just fell out of me. a fix it fic if you will.

Lie si oe Neteyamur -Neteyam

“You cannot rush this, daughter.” Your mother says as she strokes your head.

It has been days since the battle. Many lives were lost, even more injured. And as selfish as it is, you mind would not drift away from one person.

Neteyam.

-

You had been in charge on taking care of the injured that were brought back to the village. Being a Tsahik in training, you mother deemed it essential to have experience in real conditions to feel the pressure you would be carrying until you passed on the status to the best Tsahik.

After countless gruelling hours of tending to the wounded, you heard your name being called from the shore. After passing of your patient off to your partner, you down ran to the beach, only to be greeted by a sight you never thought you would have to see.

“Neteyam?!”

Sand kicked out from under your hurried feet as you approached Tsireya who had a bleeding Neteyam attached to her side.

“H-he..He was shot! It went straight through h-him.” The poor girl was hysterical. The blood of her friend covered her hands and even some of her stomach.

Neteyam himself looked terrible. His complexion was blanched and his eyes could barely stay open. Across his chest, he looked to be wrapped in seaweed, probably to stop the bleeding. You guessed that once you undid the bindings you would also find sea moss plugged in the wound as well. Curtesy of your sister, you guessed.

As much as you wanted to curl up and cry until you couldn’t anymore, Neteyam didn’t have that time. Right now, you weren’t Neteyam’s…friend..You were the one in charge of saving his life, in charge of his healing, and, if all went well, his recovery.

“Here, give him to me, I will take him to our marui.” You shouldered his body and he groaned. “Yes, yes, I know and I’m sorry.”

Neteyam didn’t seem to be capable of conversation but keeping him conscious was your top priority until you could get your remedies.

It was a struggle up the shore but you made it, with Tsireya stumbling behind. You lay him down as gently as you could.

“Neteyam? Neteyam, can you hear me? It’s yn.”

You spoke to him as you checked his body for any other injuries. Anything that would make it more difficult to deal with the hole in his chest. Nothing turned up so you continued to speak to him.

“Neteyam? I’m going to unwrap your chest now, it will hurt but I need to to stay with me, okay?”

He was awake but you had no idea if he was actually hearing anything you were saying. With a deep breath, you slowly started to unwrap his chest.

You weren’t ready for what greeted you.

The tight wrappings had slowed down the bleeding but there was still so much. It covered your palms and wove itself between your fingers. You heart was beating out of your chest and you got closer and closer to his naked chest.

Neteyam was moaning and muttering above you but you didn’t want to take your eyes off his injury.

“Tsireya? Is he still awake?” You asked your sisters, fingers still working on the makeshift bandages.

“Uh..uhm.” She knelt down closer to his face. “Yes, I think h-he is.”

“We need to keep him with us, as much as it will hurt him, we cannot risk him slipping away.”

Tsireya nodded and started to try make conversation with him. “Your brother still needs you, he is lost but he needs you to bring him back.”

You felt yourself tear up at her words. It was not just his brother who still needed him.

After discarding the seaweed in a pile, you came face to face with the bloody mess. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be bleeding as much as it was before and just like you thought, there was a large clump of sea moss packed around the wound. You picked it up as gently as possible and the boy above you jerked.

“It- it hurts!” He whined and you put a hand gently on his shoulder.

“I know and i’m sorry but it is what needs to be done.”

He didn’t respond after that but kept whining in pain and wriggling slightly.

“Tsireya-” your sister looked up and you handed her a tightly woven basket, “-fill this with water.”

She nodded and takes it from your hands hurriedly. You use the sea moss to clean up the sight as much as you can before putting is next to the seaweed.

In record time, Tsireya ran back to your side, handing you the basket now filled to the rim.

“Thank you, sister.” You said. You brings your hands up to her face and she closed her eyes. “Be calm, he will live, i’m sure of it.” She meets your gaze again and sniffs. You try to give her a reassuring smile before turning back to Neteyam.

With the basket in hand, you shuffle up next to his shoulder. As slowly as you can, you tip the container forward and watch the water wash into the hole in his chest. The blood melts off of him as the water takes its place.

Neteyam sounded like he was downright sobbing and you hear Tsireya whisper to him, “Be still, Neteyam. You are in good hands.”

You hoped she was right.

-

It had taken many hours of tears and screams but you had managed to bring Neteyam back to where he was stable. He now rests in his family’s marui like he has been for days, surrounded by the love of his family.

And as much as you want to see him, you know better than anyone how important family is in times like these. They need space.

“You did a great thing, without you, my love, the loses would have been so much greater.” Your mother is known for her stone cold resolve and tough exterior but you wouldn’t have it any other way. She loves you and your siblings in her own way. “I feel so proud knowing I chose you to take my place as Tsahik of this village once I return to our great mother.”

“Thank you, mother. It is a great honour.” She smiles down and you and holds you closer.

-

That night you cannot sleep, opting you go for a swim, a now common occurrence since the battle. You lie of your back, floating on the surface and looking up to the sky. You remember your father telling you that Jake Sully was from one of the distance stars. How fascinating.

Small waves lap underneath you. A small light shoots across the sky. Everything is still.

Well it is until someone dives in next to you.

You’re so surprised, you slowly a mouthful of water.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” It’s Lo’ak’s voice you hear while dying cough out all of the water from your mouth.

“It is okay,” You splutter, turning to face him. “Why do you come to me, Lo’ak?”

He looks down into the water and it is silent for a beat. “To thank you. I should have done it sooner and I apologise, but I just couldn’t..couldn’t-”

“Leave him?” You interrupt him and he nods. “I understand. After something so major, your family needs to heal. That includes you.” The sound of lapping water fills the silence between you.

“That’s not the only reason i’m here.” He continues. You look up to him again, slightly confused. “Neteyam, he has been asking for you.” Your eyes widen a little. “While our parents aren’t around, he asks us where you are and how he still has to thank you.”

It’s a bit sill, but you can feel small tears well up in your eyes; he’s been asking for you?

“Since his..injury, he has been moved into a separate marui to heal and he asked if I would bring you there.”

Now you feel like laughing; this whole time while you have been aching to see him, he has been feeling the same.

“I would like that, Lo’ak.” You sniffed and Lo’ak grins.

“I had a feeling you would.”

-

Before you reach Neteyam’s marui, Lo’ak decides to go back to his family’s marui. You try to insist that he joins you but he flat out denies and just grins while he walks away.

When you arrive to the doorway and look inside, you see Neteyam sitting up against the side of the dwelling.

“Neteyam?” His head immediately spins your way and there is a big smile on his face. It is contagious.

“yn, it’s so good to see you!” He whispers as you kneel next to him.

“How are you feeling? Should you be sitting u-”

“I knew that would be the first thing you ask me.” His smile gets even bigger and again, you match it.

“I’m sorry, force of habit.” You both chuckle. “Was there any reason you wanted to see me?”

“I want to thank you, for saving me.” You are about to tell him that you were just doing your job but he keeps going, “I was..I was so scared. I felt like a little kid again. But when Tsireya brought me here, to you…I knew that I would be okay.”

“Oh Neteyam…” Your eyes well up with tears and Neteyam out his hands on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you cry.” His thumbs caught the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

You suddenly wrap your arms around his neck. “I have been so worried for you Neteyam…” Your words are muffled against his skin and he can feel the vibrations echoing up his neck. Neteyam hesitates, before wrapping you up into his embrace. Silence blanketed the two of you, interrupted only by the sound of your occasional sniffles and the waves breaking against the beach.

Neteyam is the one to finally shatter it.

“While I was out there, I fought as hard as I could…To defeat our enemies, yes, but also…I knew that, whatever happened, I had to get back here,” He brings a hand up to your face that is still planted in his shoulder and lifts it gently. “I was so scared…”

Your eyes flutter close and another tear slips down your cheek, down past your quivering lips.

“But when Tsireya brought me here, to you.” A smile weaved itself into his voice and you looked up to him. “I knew that I was going to be okay.”

Neteyam looks like he is crying now and you can’t bear it.

“Oh Neteyam..I’m so happy that you’re okay.” You lean forward and rest your forehead again his.

“The great mother is not ready to meet me yet.” He chuckles and you let out a watery laughter with him.

In this moment, all is well, all is calm. He is here. With you.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your dear Neteyam.

[auriidae]

more of these guys :] (part 1) (part 2)

classpect thoughts under cut! yippee

these absolute fools gave me SO much trouble. i changed each of their classes and/or aspects like twice while drawing this lmao.

pearle was going to be a rage player initially! i had her down as one for the chaos — yknow, ‘red’s my favorite color’ and all that. but the catch ended up being that in this au, as rage represents in-game chaos and bloodlust, it only exists while the game is in effect, and so rage players don’t have much dominion over stuff that happens after that period ends (which has all sorts of delightful implications for grienn’s character, but anyways). meanwhile pearle definitely continues playing and also grows as a character even in times of peace. i was thinking in terms of comparing her arc in double life to secret life in particular — ‘she left the tower’ and all that, yknow? she went from being terribly isolated and functioning on a completely independent scale, winning only for herself, to being a key member of a team and finding a purpose in helping them. which is pretty incredibly space-coded, in my mind! my personal qualification for space players is that they’re destined to be lonely, often physically separated in some way from others, for a while but not forever — because space is about creation, after all. and if you look at being a witch from the perspective of reinvention — what pearle manipulated or reinvented here was herself. she found her place in the story and the person she wanted to be. witches are also some of the most powerful characters in terms of specifically manipulating their aspect, i think, which is great because i’ve heard she's pretty great at pvp lol

ignore that martyn’s color palette is not particularly great it’s hard to unify the design of a character who is super rustblood-coded but also inextricably linked to the colors green and yellow of all things. i’ll redesign him later. anyways! at first i had thought there might not be any light players in this session — since light is about sort of seeing through the laws of the game and often deliberately defying them, as well as having a certain degree of control over narrative agency due to this. and because, yknow, the life series is a minecraft youtube roleplay series, realistically the ccs aren’t going to be playing any characters that go out of their way to completely ruin the game or refuse to play it by the rules altogether. but then i started thinking — and i don’t know an awful lot about martyn’s character so forgive me if i’m going a little bit off the rails here — does martyn want to understand? because if he as a character tries to understand and affect his destiny even though he’s ultimately limited by the nature of the story itself, then he could totally be a light player. so that’s where i was coming from here. think about how he won limited life in the end, for instance — not by playing into what the game itself had been leading up to, but by acting on and finishing his own story. he’s a knight because i do think knights are a certified Narrative’s Little Guy class — they persevere through so much pressure and often also have that sort of dual persona thing, both of which are particularly endearing to an audience. it’s hard work, keeping up with the narrative and fulfilling his own quest for understanding while he’s at it!! but he does it!!

renn is Such a blood player guys he is such a blood player ohhh my goodness. playing the game in terms of your relationships with others, right? basing how you go about it on allies and interactions, and being a leader above all else? i’d say that’s pretty ren the dog coded tbh. i don’t have too much to say here because i think seer of blood renn is pretty self-explanatory — he sees the entire game as a game of relationships and ties. he has a lot of knowledge about this field specifically, and shares it with his allies in the way he helps direct them and keep them alive. the reason he’s blood instead of light is because he puts his allies over knowledge, i think — he’s far too busy dealing with all that stuff to speculate for too long what the purpose of it all might be, and that would detract from his goal (of winning alongside others or dying nobly), anyway.

again questions abt them are open forever always :3

[thewildsophia]

3Below//Krel Tarron x Depressed!Reader

A/N: Re-watching 3Below has reignited my love for Krel. There also aren't any Krel x depression out there so fuck it ima do it myself. For these headcanons, I imagine the reader to have Major Depressive Disorder as opposed to any other kind of depression bc that's what I have. Enjoy!

TW: S//H, S//I, Adult Language

Another warning will be placed before sections containing the above.

Words: 2485

"Read More Link” placed due to length.

Krel Tarron x S/O w/Major Depressive Disorder

At first, Krel would not understand. That is, he wouldn’t pick up on the fact that you have depression. 

His knowledge of human sociology and behaviors is very limited when he and his sister first land on Earth. However, even after he’s spent months here he still struggles to understand and pick up on social cues. 

So even though you exhibit very obvious signs of depression — i.e. lack of energy/appetite, excessive sleeping, and loss of enjoyment in activities — Krel doesn’t suspect anything inherently wrong with you. He thinks that your personality is just different from your other human counterparts. 

And to be fair, for as long as he’s known you, you’ve always acted this way (because you were depressed-). 

You would definitely have to tell him you’re depressed because otherwise, he would never figure it out. You ended up telling him during a period of lucidity where you didn’t feel too bad and were conscious of his lack of understanding of your behavior. 

As you tell him, Krel stares at you intently, committing everything you're telling him to memory. 

Now he really doesn’t understand. 

This whole time he thought you just have a different temperament from the other humans at your school, but in reality, you were suffering from a serious illness that he had no idea you had.

Tbh, Krel’s not ok for a few days after you tell him. For a brief moment, he’s angry that you didn’t tell him sooner, but he quickly understands why and his anger dissolves into sadness. He feels so terrible about not picking up on the fact that you’re constantly in pain and that he’s done nothing to help you. 

Krel spends the next few days after you told him researching all about depression and other similar mental illnesses. He’s honestly a little fascinated by how many illnesses there are lmao. It’s just that on Akaridia-5, there aren’t illnesses like that, so he’s happy to learn something new (even if it’s not under more favorable conditions). 

Krel has a lot of questions about your flavor of depression for when you’re mentally ready to answer such questions. 

Tbh, he’s a little insensitive with some of his questions, but that’s just because he doesn’t know any better. Correct him (politely) and he’ll make sure to be nicer with his questions. 

Not much changes dynamic-wise; Krel’s still your loving boyfriend, the same way that you’re still his loving significant other. 

He does make it a habit to compliment you every time he sees you. Whether it be a compliment about your looks, your school work, or even something as small as “I’m happy to see you today,” he really tries to boost your confidence in hopes that you feel better about yourself. 

He also tries to be around you more often, both to make sure you’re ok and to show you that he’s there for you. 

Krel becomes better at predicting when you’re about to enter a depressive episode. Having been around you for so long and now knowing what the warning signs are, he’s very good at guessing when you’re entering certain episodes (sometimes even before you know. Scary, huh?)

When you enter depressive episodes, Krel does everything he can to make sure he’s there for you, both physically and mentally. He will hold you close to him with all four of his arms while he listens carefully to what is troubling you. 

Krel still doesn’t quite understand the emotions involved in depression. Like many other people, he believed that it was just constant sadness, but the more he read and spoke with you about the matter, the more complex it all became. Sadness, despair, emptiness, fear, anger, jealousy, all emotions that he’s never really felt in full. Not to mention other even more nuanced emotions such as paranoia and shame that he’s actually never felt at all. 

Krel is also very good at helping you through mood swings. He’s come to understand that all humans fluctuate between many different emotions, sometimes in a short period of time. He knows when you want him close to you and knows when you want space. 

If you are someone who is very mature with how you explain how you’re feeling, -- like telling someone you’re mad at them, why you’re mad, and that you want space to cool off/talk with them about it -- Krel has an easier time responding to you. He’s much less likely to misinterpret your feelings and what you want. 

Krel actually learned how to vocalize his own emotions from you whenever he’s distressed or upset which definitely opened you two up for a much more healthy form of communication.

He just struggles with emotions in general, but he makes the effort to understand for you :)

TW: S//H, S//I

If Krel ever gets even a hint that you’re hurting yourself, his mental walls would fall and he’d collapse in on himself.

If there is someone who is threatening or hurting you, he, his sister, and Varvatos can easily get rid of them. If you are sick, he can help treat you until you are better. Even if you do something as small as scraping your knee, he can be there to put a bandage over it.

But yourself? He can’t protect you from yourself. He doesn’t know what to do and that scares him so much.

After what happened with his parents, he is very grateful for the lives of those he loves as he understands just how easily they can be taken away from him. He is afraid that one day you will be gone and all that will remain is him.

Krel would have found out about your self-harm either on his own or someone tipping him off about it. You just didn’t have it in you to tell him yourself. 

Krel then begins to really try and learn human medicine. He would spend hours reading medical articles, watching first-aid videos, and taking copious notes about everything he learns, even if it grosses him out a bit (organic organisms were never really something he was interested in before).

He tries to come up with other things you can do when you feel like hurting yourself; Drawing/coloring, writing, reading, playing games, anything that will distract you. He’s always sending you ideas especially when he’s not with you and knows how you’re feeling. 

And to both of your credits, your self-harm does lessen in both severity and quantity. But unfortunately, it doesn’t always help since old habits die hard.

Krel is there in an instant to help you when you relapse assuming you tell him you need help. Even if you decide not to tell him immediately and care for yourself that day/night, Krel almost always finds out sometime after and worries over you about it. 

His hours spent learning first aid pay off when goes to treat your wounds; Cuts, burns, bruises, bites, you’re convinced that Krel can treat any minor injury. And you’re grateful for that. 

Krel is thorough about disinfecting any open wounds with hydrogen peroxide or Neosporin over burns and is incredibly gentle when wrapping them in gauze. He likes to check on them every few days as well to make sure they’re healing correctly.

He holds you close to him afterward -- all four arms wrapped around you and face pressed into your neck/shoulder -- and begs you not to leave him. At first, you’re confused thinking he meant, like, break up with him. It isn’t until you give it more thought that you realize that he doesn’t want to leave him through death.

If you ever express feelings of guilt -- whether verbal or through body language -- Krel quickly dismisses them from your mind by telling you how he wants to help you and how much he loves you. That he wouldn’t bother doing all of this if he didn’t see anything of substance in you.

If you ever express a desire to die, -- whether through suicide or some freak accident -- Krel will look cool on the outside but on the inside, he will be panicking. As hard as he may try, Krel could never understand why you want to die. 

Even if you explain it to Krel -- Everyone and everything that troubles you and the awful guilt you constantly feel by just being alive -- he believes that there is always a reasonable and achievable solution to your problems. It’s not that he’s trying to downplay your problems or your emotions, he’s just naturally more of a rational thinker even under stress.

But even though he doesn’t understand the emotions themselves, he does understand that human emotions can elicit other undesirable responses and thoughts.

Krel will constantly tell you how much he loves you and that he doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if you were dead. 

He does what he can to push those thoughts from your head.

As written earlier, Krel likes to spend time with you in person. Not just because he loves you sm but also because it makes it easier to keep an eye on you and intervene when necessary.

Def says something along the lines of, “I’m happy you’re alive.” And the first time he said that you cried so hard he thought he insulted you lmao. You had to explain to him that you weren’t insulted but relieved and overjoyed. 

Krel is not the most emotionally intelligent person out there, but he tries to be and is willing to understand them for you.

When you had shown up at school with a busted lip, bloody and bruised knuckles, and a dull gash on your cheek, Krel freaked the fuck out. The moment he spotted you walking to your locker from his own locker he was all over you. 

“What happened?” Krel cried while gently taking your face into one of his hands while the other went to grab your hand.

“It’s nothing,” You mutter, pulling your face out of his grasp and taking a step back. Krel scoffed, looking almost offended while saying,

“Nothing? Nothing did that to you?”

“I just-” You start, raising your hands up in defense before dropping them at your sides, “I got in a fight with Steve. It was over something stupid. We’ve known each other for most of our lives; I just worry about him.” You cross your arms to hold onto yourself and look anywhere Krel isn’t. Krel moved his head so that it was in your line of vision, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

“I take it you don’t want to talk about it?” He asked. You nod ‘yes,’ and Krel frowns.

“I won’t push you then, but I really want to get you treated,” He says, taking a step closer to you. You stay where you are and allow him to hold your hands.

“Later, I’ll be fine for now,” You say while bringing up one of his hands to kiss the top of it, “You can have Aja or even Mother patch me up after school.”

Krel looks at your knuckle hesitantly before agreeing, trusting that you truly would be fine until after the school day.

The moment the last bell rang he made a beeline to find you and ran you to his house as quickly as possible. The two of you were the only ones home when you got there, so Krel wasted no time in having one of the blanks retrieve a first aid kit. Once given to him, Krel attempts to treat your injuries but fails pretty miserably. 

You end up showing him how to clean and wrap different kinds of cuts and bruises. It’s when you’re in the middle of cleaning your knuckles in the sink that Krel says something that makes your stomach drop.

“Mother, can you scan Y/N for any more injuries, please?”

“Wha-Mother! You don’t have to do that!” You shout panicked and covered your arms in a vain attempt to conceal your other injuries. 

“Numerous other injuries found upon Y/N in the upper arm, forearm, and thigh regions. Approximately 27 cuts to the epidermis and 3, 1st-degree burns found.”

“What!?” Krel turned around so fast to face you, you swear you saw his electric blue hair whip from the air, “Where?! I demand you show me!”

“No!” You cry back panicked, hands gripping the side of the sink behind you. Krel scowls and grows before shouting, 

“Mother, show me a hologram of where the injuries are on Y/N!” 

“My King-in-waiting, It would seem that I have breached a highly sensitive topic on behalf of Y/N. I believe it best that they discuss it with you themself.” Mother responds. Krel sighs, his upper right hand running through his hair.

“Y/N,” He starts, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m really worried.” He carefully walks over to you but leaves a foot of space between the two of you.

“Will you please show me where you’re hurt?” He asks quietly. Your eyes begin to burn with tears and your mouth opens to explain yourself before shutting quickly with a ‘clank’ of your teeth. Unable to speak, you place your hands into his lower ones, palms up, and nod your head. Gently, Krel’s other hands push your long sleeves higher up your arms, and he’s baffled at the numerous cuts he sees littering your arms. There were many different colors, thicknesses, lengths, and stages of healing -- some were a day old while others were weeks old. He ran his thumb over one of the older ones.

“Wha…” Krel stutters, eyes dancing over your arms, “What are these? What-Who did this?” His eyes flicker up to yours. 

Your jaw twitches -- wanting to speak but unable to -- and you pull one of your hands away from his to point to yourself. Krel’s eyebrows furrow.

“I-I don’t understand,” He whispers, his own eyes beginning to water, “I want to understand.” 

“I did this,” You mumble out, pulling your other hand away from his, “I am…ashamed.” Tears begin to fall and you scrub gently at your eyes to dry them.

“You-You did this?” Krel asks, confused and stunned, “You willingly hurt yourself? Why?”

You heave out a few breaths trying to figure out how to relay your emotions to him. While difficult to say, you manage to squeeze out three words.

“I hate-” You stammer, “I hate myself.” 

And Krel is immediately embracing you.

“I love you,” He says, cupping your face in his upper hands and staring into your eyes with his other two around your waist, “I love you so much. Please don’t ever say you hate yourself.”

Gently, he kisses your forehead, your cheek, and then your lips.

The two of you are left a sobbing mess of tender skin and emotion in the kitchen for Varvatos and Aja to find later when they arrive home.

[myfairstarlight]

Chronicles of Two Writers in Love

AO3 Link.

Rated: G

Length: 3.5k (for now 👀)

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington

Canon Compliant

Summary:

As Penelope and Colin settle into their new married life, each also embarks on their own literary pursuits. Colin aims to publish his journals, while Penelope is reworking her Whistledown column for the upcoming season. Though, these projects would be much easier to accomplish if they could stop distracting one another. Or if life did not throw another surprise their way. Or. A compilation of post-s3 domestic scenes wherein Colin and Penelope build an empire and a family.

*additional notes on ao3

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Colin was overlooking the mess that the Featherington finances are when his office door opens on Penelope’s giddy and radiant smile. He raises a curious eyebrow when she does not say anything and keeps tiptoeing her way towards him.

“Is there something wrong, Pen?” he asks, although perhaps “wrong” is not the correct adjective to use, considering his wife’s excitement.

She shakes her head as she walks around the desk to drape herself over Colin’s back instead. Colin blinks before leaning against her, smiling as a few strands of red curly hair tickle his neck. Although used to such displays of affection now, the novelty never seems to wear out.

“No,” Penelope says simply at last, and then her hands travel down Colin’s arms, her fingers purposely lingering on his muscles, he is pretty certain, until they reach his hands. She grabs the pencil he was holding to toss it across the desk.

“Wh— Pen!” Colin sighs, although not unkindly, rather amused even. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“Do you?” his wife replies.

“Yes, I love you,” he says like a lovesick fool, breathing in her honeydew perfume. “Which is nothing new. Unless you desire details about the horrid state your father left your estate in.”

He almost regrets offering his help when Portia kept complaining the other day when she came to visit. Colin, as a third son, neither the heir nor the spare, never had to worry about such things but he still was taught how to manage an estate and provinces at Eton, then by his brothers when he came back, just in case, though his knowledge remains limited compared to them. He laments who the next Lord Featherington will be — or well, who will act as the new head of the household until their son is old enough. His new brother-in-laws are kind men, but quite simple-minded, and untitled as well. Such responsibility would be quite a drastic and terrifying change. Colin is not much of a pious man, but he does pray for Albion and Harry.

Penelope makes a face. “I suppose these papers must be important then.”

“Yes…” Colin says slowly, trying not to react when his childhood friend and love of his life starts pushing said papers on one side of the desk and manages to squeeze herself on his lap. Not a terribly difficult endeavour, actually.

“More important than me?” Penelope quips, tilting her head and smiling innocently.

“That is a trick question, isn’t it.”

“I do not know what you mean.” The innocent smile turns sly.

“My wife is a menace.” Penelope visibly melts at the word wife and Colin decides those papers can wait, after all, he can always ask for Benedict's help later. He carefully cards his fingers through Penelope’s hair, tilting her head back and then kissing her jaw.

Penelope giggles, her right hand tracing the side of his neck, fingers playing with his cravat. “Your wife, dear husband, also happens to be with child,” she whispers into his ear, bringing one of his hands to her stomach.

Colin stops moving, breath knocked out of him in an instant. Penelope’s mischievous smile turns gentle as she intertwines their fingers together.

“Truly?” 

Penelope nods and then laughs as Colin lifts her onto the desk, showering her with kisses and caresses anew. It is safe to say that the important papers are quickly forgotten for the rest of the week.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

“Pen,” Colin whines, “you should not be working in your condition!”

“I am merely writing, that is hardly life-threatening,” Penelope chides, trying to ignore her husband’s grabby hands around her waist. “Colin! I’m editing your book!”

“And the sun has gone down, my book can wait another day to be finished.”

For someone so eager to become a published author, Colin sure has been the main reason his book is taking so long to be delivered to his publisher. His concern for her well-being ever since she announced her pregnancy is endearing, if not a little annoying, for she is perfectly capable of working still. She barely looks different, compared to her sisters who are already at the Featherington country estate to hide away.

“Shush, I am almost done, I might as well.”

Colin pouts, unrelenting. “Do not make me use my secret weapon.”

“What are you on about— Colin put me down!” Penelope yelps as she finds herself lifted into strong familiar arms, managing to grasp the pieces of paper and her pencil before they fly off her desk. She huffs, meeting the satisfied and a bit arrogant smile her husband gives her.

“Compromise? You can finish these last pages in our bed, while I still get to hold you,” he says, nuzzling her neck.

“Hardly seems like a compromise when you are already walking towards said bed, Mr Bridgerton.”

“You do not seem to mind, Mrs Bridgerton.”

She does love to be in his arms, after all, but Penelope does not give him the satisfaction of her answer. Instead, she casts her eyes back on her papers, pretending to ignore him as she mentally visualises the changes that need to be made. She leans her head against Colin’s chest as her husband starts humming happily upon winning what he is considering a small battle.

Soon, she finds herself among soft silken sheets as Colin manoeuvers them so he may sit against the headboard, Penelope half-laying on him between his legs. His arms naturally find her middle, hands gently caressing the beginning of a bump, and he rests his chin on her head. Penelope, on her part, smiles fondly, almost getting distracted enough to forego her work and simply snuggle with her husband.

“You know,” she says after some time, earning a small hum from a sleepy Colin, “I like that last line.” She circles it with her pencil, adding a small heart next to it.

“Of course you do, it is about you,” he replies lazily, kissing her head. “My love, my life, my purpose.”

As my travels come to an end, I realise that this endless search for a purpose was a long-winded distraction, for home is where my love is, and I shall now return where she has patiently and kindly waited for me.

The Penelope to my Odysseus.

“Are you certain about the title though?” Penelope wonders out loud.

She only gets a petulant huff in response. Sounds like she really won't be able to make him change his mind about it.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Despite the Queen’s approval, Penelope is afraid of continuing her column, Colin can tell. He catches her at night getting off their bed to settle by her desk, a small candle for only company, as she goes through the old Whistledown columns with the eyes of a forlorn lover. She doesn't like to talk about it, but Colin knows she has been prioritising his drafts over her own writing, lately. He is flattered by her eagerness to help, but also quite worried by it.

“You need rest, love,” he tells her on one of those nights as he, too, leaves the bed to read over her shoulder. She currently has Lady Whistledown’s very first column crinkled between her fingers.

“Mm,” is all she responds with, not moving from her desk.

“Pen.”

“Col.”

He grimaces. “You know I hate that.”

Finally, she tears her eyes away from the Whistledown column to give him a small, mischievous smile by tilting her head back. Colin bends down — goes down to his knees, really — to kiss her forehead, and she leans against his chest.

“Want to talk about it?” She shakes her head. “Alright.”

She makes a surprised noise but doesn't say anything else for a while. Then, gently, she pokes at his hands currently resting on her shoulders.

“Colin.”

“Mm?”

“I do not know what to do.”

“Regarding?”

“Everything.”

That is a loaded answer indeed.

“We can figure it out together, Pen, you’re not alone anymore, remember?” he says, gently playing with her hair while she buries her face in his neck. Although she tries to quiet her cries, Colin can feel her tears through the fabric of his chemise. He breathes in as she wraps her arms around him, bringing them even closer.

After a while, as the candle is almost completely burned out, Penelope pulls back with a loud sniffle that turns into quite an ugly snort. The sound makes them both pause before they burst out in fits of giggles.

“Ah, I’m a mess,” she sniffs. “No wonder Prudence was this emotional at our wedding if that is what pregnancy does to you.”

Colin wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favourite sister-in-law.

“Want to talk about it now?” he asks again.

Penelope remains silent for a few instants, eyes closing, as if resigned.

“I should,” she mutters.

“But do you want to?” Colin insists.

Her eyes fly open, crystal blues looking at him with such disbelief, that it makes Colin’s heart ache. Then, she smiles, a hand cupping his cheek with all the tenderness in the world.

“Thank you, my ever-considerate and patient man. I love you so much,” she whispers, before bringing their lips together in a sweet kiss. Colin fully indulges in it. “I do want to,” Penelope answers at last after they pull away. “Let’s get back to bed first, though, your knees must ache.”

“My…?” He blinks, indeed remembering he has been kneeling for at least the past thirty minutes. “Oh.”

He hastily stands up, wincing as a few bones crack at the sudden movement.

Penelope bites her lip, surely to stop herself from laughing again. “Come on, take me to bed, husband.” She lifts her arms then with an indulgent smile. Colin grins wide and swiftly scoops her up into his arms with little to no difficulty.

As they settle into bed, Penelope immediately disregards her pillow to instead lay on his chest with a pleased hum.

“Where to begin…” she muses, her hand drawing patterns on his chest as she starts to speak. Colin wonders if it makes her comfortable. He is not going to complain.

So he listens, as she lists her worries concerning Whistledown, how she will gather gossip now that her face and name are shown, how to keep the Queen’s ever so fleeting favourable opinion, how to ensure no one in their family is affected by her work, especially now that they will soon have a child of their own.

From then on, she strays, talking about the various names she has been thinking about, how she imagines them to look like, and how they must have Colin’s eyes, apparently.

Eventually, she naturally drifts off to sleep before Colin can say anything in return. However, her body is completely relaxed against his in a way she has not been for weeks now, and a peaceful smile is on her lips. Colin kisses her temple and wishes her good dreams.

They can leave the worries and his suggestions for another day. For now, Colin is simply happy to provide a peaceful night as he gathers her closer to his heart.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

“Is he alright?” Daphne asks, nodding towards Colin who is dramatically lying on the couch, one arm draped over his forehead, and the other hanging onto the bucket Rae has provided him with.

“Morning sickness,” Penelope replies. “Although it has extended beyond the morning, it seems,” she adds, looking at the clock indicating that it is around three in the afternoon.

Her sister-in-law frowns. “But you’re the one…?”

“I do not understand either. He has also been having odd food cravings, although that may be normal for him, actually.”

“Mm. And you are fine?”

Penelope shrugs. “Surprisingly? Yes.” 

Colin starts groaning then. Penelope rushes to his side, leaning against the side of the sofa as she runs a hand through his wild curls. Her husband smiles dopily, his groans turning into pleased hums. 

“We are being terrible hosts, I must apologise,” Penelope says. “You’ve come all this way…”

Daphne chuckles, waving a dismissive hand. “Do not worry, it was no hassle. Though now I feel like you will not be the one in need of my special blend of tea to deal with the sickness.”

Penelope looks down at her now-sleeping husband. “Probably not.” A pause. “We just received a copy of his book, waiting for final approval before publication. He has not had the strength to go through it without the sudden need to empty his stomach.”

“Poor giant puppy,” Daphne mutters.

“Daphne!”

“What!” The duchess laughs. “Knowing my brother he is probably exaggerating just so you can dote on him, though you are the one carrying his child.”

Penelope feels Colin’s face twitch under her fingertips at his sister’s accusation, proving he is not actually asleep. Truth be told, she has had her suspicions, though she cannot help but indulge her husband. He looks oh so adorable when in such misery.

“Can I read the book?” Daphne inquires.

Colin suddenly sits up. “Absolutely not!”

Penelope has to rub his back as another nausea takes hold of him at the abrupt movement.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Philippa and Prudence both give birth to little girls. Albion and Harry are relieved. Colin, on the other hand, is filled with dread.

Not at the idea of having a son— he would love his child, whether they turn out to be a boy or a girl. No, the issue is with the goddamn Featherington estate. He knows the odds that Penelope gives birth to a girl like her sisters are slim, which means he must prepare himself to officially deal with the mess that Archibald Featherington has left in his death, and that Portia Featherington has worsened, somehow, by adding fraud to the debts. When he asked for Benedict’s help, months ago, when he curiously looked at the records, his brother’s eyes widened with horror.

“I will be honest, Col, I don’t think even Anthony would know what to do with this. It is a miracle the Featheringtons were still in society!”

“Well, you cannot ignore that Lady Featherington is one cunning lady,” Colin reluctantly admitted.

So. That was grand. And Colin surely would not wish for his hypothetical son to be burdened by this.

But then Penelope props herself on his desk one day, effortlessly reading through the financial ledgers and pointing where improvements could be made with a faux air of casualty. Colin is left to stare, feeling, well, something stir within him at the new sight before him.

“What? I had to handle my Whistledown finances by myself, did you forget?” Penelope chuckles, happily letting Colin snake his way between her legs.

“Is there anything you cannot do, dear wife?” he inquires, lips mere inches from her neck.

She hums, a hand settling on the back of his head and playing with the hair at the base of his neck. “Not really.” He starts to pepper kisses on her exposed skin, earning more giggles. “Mm. Colin, do you reckon who will come out first? Your child or your book? You approved it months ago now…”

“I do not really care either way,” he mumbles, far too distracted by his need to taste his wife.

Penelope pulls away then, a serious expression back on her face. It takes everything in Colin to not pout. “I would like to celebrate your achievement before we have to worry about parenthood, or salvaging my father’s mess, personally.”

“That is if we do have a son,” he points out, a hand settling on her round belly.

“I just have a feeling,” she says with a shrug.

“Or you just really want to win this heir race thing.”

She gasps. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing, competitiveness is your thing, Bridgerton!”

“Tsk and you’re a Bridgerton too, now,” he reminds her. “And admit it, it would allow you to get a rise out of your sisters.”

He would know. He keeps reminding Eloise he was the one who met Penelope first.

“I already had a taste of that, their faces were quite amusing when I was being courted by a Lord.” He pinches her side. “Hey!”

“Do not remind me of this miserable time.”

His dearest wife dares to roll her eyes at him. “I have no care for a title or my old name. But if we do not have a son…”

“Your mother would despair,” he finishes for her, smiling. Penelope’s immense heart will never cease to amaze him.

“She… has never loved my father, but that title, that name, she cares for it so deeply. It would kill her to see it go to someone we may not even know after everything she had to sacrifice for it.”

“Pen… I understand, but it is not something we can control either. I do not want you to be disappointed—”

“God no! I could never be disappointed!” she protests immediately, her hands flying to join his against her belly. “Our child, Colin. How could I ever be disappointed we made a life together? It is just— you know, Prudence won’t let Mother live with her and Harry.”

Colin makes a face. “Philippa?” She seems like the type of woman to simply follow whatever her mother tells her to do, and she was the first to be married. She seems like the logical choice.

“My mother hates cheese.”

“Oh Lord, are you telling me we will be stuck with her no matter what?!”

Penelope only sheepishly smiles.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

If Eloise had known her best friend was with child, she would have delayed her departure for Scotland because learning about it through a letter and the new Whistledown column — which added the fact that the child is the new Lord Featherington, something both Penelope and Colin forgot to mention in their letter — was not something she appreciated. It felt distant, awakening guilt within her that she could not be there to support her best friend.

It is odd, she thinks, or perhaps cruel, that she did not feel that same kind of guilt for Daphne. Perhaps it is because her sister is living somewhere else, far from Bridgerton House, whereas Penelope and Colin remained near Mayfair, and are now moving back into Featherington House. She loves her sister dearly, of course, but they have always had differing interests, and her love for family and the desire to build one was one Eloise could never truly connect with, she who dreaded her presentation.

With Colin, she could always find a sense of kinship with him through his curiosity for the world. They were much similar in that way, she thinks, with the only difference being that he was allowed to go and learn about all these subjects that piqued his interest. In a way, although she disparaged him a lot with his tales of his travels, Eloise lived through his words. Jealousy is what made her so bitter, two years ago. And now she gets to read them, now that she has seen a little bit of the world as well herself.

(Granted, Scotland was not groundbreaking the way Greece or India could have been, but still.)

And then, of course, there is Penelope. Her dear, clever, too-good-for-Colin Penelope, for whom words are not enough to describe Eloise’s love, who dreamed of love and grand achievements. She who protected her work and her loved ones with a fierceness Eloise could only wish she could reach one day.

So perhaps the guilt truly stems from the fact that two of her favourite people have created a life together, and Eloise could not be there to witness them becoming a family, and she feared that she would be left behind again.

(There was also this horrid voice in the back of her mind, always. She could have lost Penelope. What if something went wrong, during the birth, and Eloise came back to a desolate garden?)

Oh, how wrong she was.

She is crying, that much is certain, though Penelope and Colin are polite enough to not point it out. And the reason for her cries is the little bundle of joy in her arms currently playing with her hair.

And his name is Thomas Elliot Bridgerton.

“I will be your favourite aunt, I have to, what with you being named after me, huh?” she tells the baby, whose big blue eyes look at her with wonder before another giggle escapes his lips.

She smiles, her eyes drifting away to Penelope and Colin again, who are by the window. Penelope is holding up some drafts, explaining something, while Colin listens intently, occasionally sharing some insights of his own. Both of their hands are stained with ink as well, these restless overachievers. Eloise’s gaze softens at the sight.

She was terrified things would change, and they did.

But some things don’t.

She holds Thomas closer to her heart, kissing his head when the baby giggles once more and tries to wrap his tiny arms around her. She looks forward to this new life ahead of her.

[seongsangssbitch]

The Amazing Spiderman

pt 1

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

Pairing: Spiderman! Yunho x Bestfriend! Mingi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was a problem for another day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The response was almost instant.

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

Yunho grinned and quickly typed back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was enough for him—for now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(No Yunho that's your Spiderman powers)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yunho?! What the—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mingi rested his head on Yunho's shoulder

"So Spiderman do you cum spiderweb"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His father's lab.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Move, move, MOVE!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, it spoke to him— its voice .

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

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

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

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

I won't let you control me.

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

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

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

Because he wasn't just Yunho anymore.

And neither was the world.

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

Then, everything went still.

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

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

Then, he heard a voice.

"Good morning, son."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, in the distance, he saw him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cringe. You loser.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But could he face him like this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Yunho wasn't afraid anymore.

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

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

"Assailant, gang robbers."

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

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

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

Finally, something fun.

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

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

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

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

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

But he knew better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're weak, Venatus whispered darkly in his mind, the words heavy and cruel. You should have killed them. You should have taken control. This world is nothing but a playground for the powerful, Yunho. Why do you keep holding back?

[shimmeringweeds]

EDIT: this is a outdated mid S2 analysis. It’s not a terrible read but - my thoughts are always evolving with new info and greater understanding. So if you’ve finished S2, I’ve got a better take :)

Cheng Xiaoshi always dives blind.

He knows his instructions: deliver the message, find the secret, change nothing. He may even have a rough time frame for when the information can be found. Still, Cheng Xiaoshi never knows what's coming.

But Lu Guang knows. (Spoilers through s2 ep 9 + ep 10 preview)

Buckle up. Long post. This knowledge has pestered me for two years. Since Emma. I've found ways to chalk it up. Lu Guang just scans the photos, and doesn't see details until they happen; or Lu Guang thinks this will ensure past remains untouched; or Lu Guang is doing this to protect Cheng Xiaoshi.

I've also chalked it up, predominately, to story telling. What fun would there be if Cheng Xiaoshi knew what was going to happen? There would be no surprises! Boooooriiiiiing.

I'm not satisfied with that.

You know, each time Lu Guang withholds information, I find a way to forgive him. That is to say, I feel distrust; a need to forgive him that Cheng Xiaoshi never seems to let linger because of his unyielding faith in Lu Guang.

There are many moments where, if Lu Guang had just told Cheng Xiaoshi what was coming, he could have prevented discomfort and pain.

Exhibit A: Emma.

Instead of telling Cheng Xiaoshi that the situation is going to be okay, that nothing will happen, that her mom is going to call and interrupt. Lu Guang tells him to basically get on with it and then proceeds to lecture him in typical fashion.

"What a great personality," we think sarcastically, having known him for all of 5 minutes.

The scene is played off comically, because what else can Cheng Xiaoshi do? But he's visibly flustered on rescue, and I don't think that has to do with feeling Emma's emotions.

Okay, you say that this is how the writers are narrating the rules. Driving into our heads that the past cannot be changed. Yeah. You're right. How convenient for the writers.

That is not the only moment in this episode where Lu Guang essentially just tells Cheng Xiaoshi to be patient or ignore it instead of giving him the information he needs, but this post will be long enough. And again, we can chalk all those moments up to Lu Guang thinking he knows best (and being wrong).

Episodes 2 and 3 are tame. There are no surprises in the narrative except Cheng Xiaoshi's own mistakes, which cause Lu Guang to be sightless. Nothing to hide until episode 4.

The Earthquake:

Lu Guang makes the call to not tell Cheng Xiaoshi about the earthquake. Gods, I wouldn't either, spare him that pain. But that kindness backfires spectacularly, and the pain dealt is greater than the pain spared.

Does Lu Guang learn a lesson here? He's so careful with Xiaoshi, keeping his distance and not pushing him to do anything he doesn't want.

The next photograph is for DouDou. It's a surveillance footage and Lu Guang's knowledge is limited. Nothing can be done about the mess up. But the next dive is into Doudou. Cheng Xiaoshi smells the ball and looses consciousness. At the start of the photograph, Lu Guang says. "But the whole time, I was unable to get a good look at the human trafficker's face, as well as how she took DouDou away." He warns Cheng Xiaoshi to be careful, and when the ball rolls he declares, "It's here!" before falling silent. He doesn't warn Cheng Xiaoshi about the ball until it's already too late.

Chalk it up. After all we don't know what exactly it is Lu Guang can see in the photograph. Just that he can see 12 hours into it. Maybe he couldn't deduce sniffing the ball would lead to DouDou's abduction? That's reasonable. But how could he miss the ball entirely? Why not warn Cheng Xiaoshi in more detail? Even if Doudou needs to be taken, doesn't Lu Guang trust Cheng Xiaoshi to act? I'm left scratching my head.

For the rest of the season, the lead is predominately taken by Cheng Xiaoshi. Lu Guang is there, but he lets Cheng Xiaoshi have this. He trusts. And for the first time before diving, he warns. Before diving, he warns that Xu Shanshan may not be alive. But he doesn't know the future. And the decision to dive is Cheng Xiaoshi's to make.

Li Tianxi's photo.

Lu Guang hides the photo. He say's he can't see all the details due to his condition. I'll believe that. Flash back to Lu Guang looking at his phone, like he's trying his power on other, familiar, photographs (before deleting them, I guess, but.....didn't they already do that? Is he trying photos of the present?)

Of course he doesn't tell anyone about the photo. He wants to protect Cheng Xiaoshi. He can't see what it is they'd be diving into.

Of course this is no big deal to Cheng Xiaoshi, because Lu Guang himself has ensured that Cheng Xiaoshi will be a pro at diving blind.

Cheng Xiaoshi makes the call and, by god, if Lu Guang doesn't look exhausted when he agrees.

Lu Guang doesn't even warn him that Li Tianxi is mute. Right out of the gate. Is that really how little he could see? Okay. So we operate with the assumption that, right now, Lu Guang cannot see far in advance. Cheng Xiaoshi stresses, did he mess up? Isn't this a big deal? Lu Guang assures him that he can still see where the are going. Doesn't say where. Okay. That just means the future isn't dark. Lu Guang really can't see ahead right now. That's reasonable. And so we let the rest of the dive go... watching in horror at the events that unfold. Lu Guang apologizing to Cheng Xiaoshi in the photo. That if he could have seen, he wouldn't have let him dive.

Here's the thing. Two(?) nights prior, Lu Guang shows off a pretty bad ass skill. He sees into the security footage of the WHOLE DAMN HOSPITAL. How is that easier, soon after surgery mind you, than quickly scanning the photograph for even a hint of what might happen? (Or maybe Lu Guang can only scan the photograph once, before diving in. And he really couldn't see in that moment with a freshly opened stab wound. Apparently that's my new "chalk it up" theory, as of just now.) Remember, Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't know Lu Guang did that. He thinks Lu Guang was guiding them using live security footage, not becoming the eyes of the whole damn hospital.

When it comes to any present moment between them, Lu Guang is quick to give advice, nagging after Cheng Xiaoshi's behavior like a mother hen. But giving advice about the future? He doesn't do that. Maybe he can't do that.

Maybe no matter how badly Lu Guang wants to shout the future loud and clear, he is being prevented. Maybe it's a rule bound to his power. Maybe it's a rule bound to this "game."

Episode 10 preview. We want answers. We suspect Lu Guang has them. But guess what?

His lips are sealed. Literally.

[monimccoythings]

Arlong x Healer!human!reader Part 1

I will keep writing as long as I get this ideas, these will be all unconnected, just oneshots. I have some stories I would like to try however I've come to find that it is really difficult to write Arlong with a human reader, since he is so bigoted and hateful of humans, I also worry I'm going to make him too ooc for my taste. But I'm slowly getting comfortable with what I want to write and how I want to write it.

PS: Since this bitch of a website only allows a limited amount of characters, this one will have to be cut in half.

Tw: mentions of blood.

The only thing your Island had ever known was peace. Anyone with good intentions was welcomed there. Fishmen and humans lived together comfortably, there were even mixed couples with hybrid children running around. No fight got too serious and no race thought about submitting the other, because all of the villagers understood and knew too well what it was to be subjugated.

Since your mother arrived with you to this island several years ago, you had used your ever growing knowledge about medicine to help your neighbors and friend's lifes get a bit easier. You felt a bit proud of the small clinic you had established and wouldn't change your quiet life for anything in the world.

But one day things changed.

There had been a terrible storm the night before, and some things had been carried over to the sea, nothing too serious, just some furniture, some cloths and part of the roof of a barn. But still, people would want them back, so you decided to help them a bit.

That's when you saw him. A huge unmoving mass laying on the shore. 'He must have been brought by the tides' you thought. Your healer instincts immediately kicked in, he looked like he had been pretty battered. He had very ugly looking cuts, and seemed to have lost a lot of blood. Still, he seemed to be breathing, though with several difficulties. You had to act quick.

You called for Omar, your fishman friend, since he was too big and heavy for you to carry around without risking a back ache. Things seemed normal, just another patient to help. Little did you know that you had bit off more than you could chew.

The second he was laid on the bed, he magically sprung alive and lunged at you like a wild animal, his eyes madly moving one side to the other, baring his teeth and foaming at the mouth. The only thing stopping him from tearing you to pieces was the quick intervention of your friend, who even his prime, was barely able to contain that sharkman's fury. "How is he able to do this?? he is on the verge of death!" You couldn't answer. You found yourself unable to, because the look of deep hate coming out of that fishman's eyes had rendered you speechless. Nobody had looked at you that way. Ever.

After a bit of struggling, the man fell unconscious again from exhaustion. But your heart was still beating furiously inside your chest. If Omar hadn't been there... No. There was no time to think about that, he needed your help. Whether he wanted or not.

Your friend didn't seem so convinced when you decided to send him home to his family. He was reluctant to leave you alone with a dangerous patient. You quickly reassured him that as long as he was unconscious everything would be fine, and if things got rough you would call for him immediately.

After he left, you immediatly went back to action, getting all the materials needed to clean his wounds and start a blood transfusion. You wisely decided that fishman's blood would be the most appropiate given his inherent hostility towards humans. Still, the amount you had wouldn't be enough to make him healthy again. Guess you'd have to call your friend back after all.

As you were cleaning his wounds you couldn't help but marvel at the bulging muscles underneath your cloth. This fishman was enormous, even bigger than some of your neighbors. Gosh, he barely fit into your biggest bed. You shook your head, this was not the time to fantasize, you had to call your friend back and several other fishmen from the village. It was going to take a while...

After several days waiting quietly near his bed with your very overprotective friend by your side, the mysterious fishman seemed to regain consciousness at last. And boy did you regret it.

He was the most hateful, abrassive, headstrong, and rudest patient you ever had the displeasure to meet. How anyone could be so full of hate, you didn't know. At least he wasn't attacking you, he was probably feeling weak due to those days he spent unconscious. Or maybe it was because your friend was always there, supervising, just in case.

Arlong, as he was named (or as he had barked at you when you politely asked) had a deeply rooted hatred for humans, considering you all the scum of the earth and an inferior race to exploit and control. When you told him this island was based on peaceful coexistence between human and fishmen, he was outraged calling it shameful for the fishmen people.

When Omar's hybrid kid, Corcho, came by to bring some food to his Papa, Arlong's face morphed into a sneer of disgust. You had to ask him, because since the child was part fishman, he shouldn't have had any trouble with him. To which he answered that it was the child's fishman half what had kept him from pouncing at him.

You couldn't keep quiet anymore, and decided to call him out on his extremly bigoted behavior towards people that just wanted to help him. He scoffed at you, saying that you humans were just mud for Fishmen to step on.

You snapped at him that you didn't understand how someone could still choose to hate when there could be a chance of both races living peacefully, it was plain stupid. That seemed to do it.

With a snarl and a surprising speed for someone in his frail state he grabbed you by the neck. Omar quickly adopted a protective stance in front of his child, ready to attack without risking your safety.

"You should watch your tongue, human." He spat the last word as if it was venom. His webbed fingers applied the smallest of pressures to your neck, signaling you that he could do much worse if he wanted to. You watched with steady breaths how his eyes scanned your face, in search of fear, pupils dilating like a predator when his eyes met yours. For a second, nobody dared to utter a word, both of you lost in each other's eyes. He carefully sniffed you, and when he found no trace of fear, he harshly let you go with a grunt which turned into a wince of pain.

Omar quickly pulled you away from him, but you barely acknowledged his presence. Your focus was on the wounded fishman in front of you. You tentatively approached him, ignoring your friend's protests. "Don't touch me." He warned, panting. Desperate, you tried to give him something to drink.

"You are hurt, have a glass of wa-" "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP, HUMAN." He bellowed at you, slapping the glass out of your hand. After a couple of minutes he started breathing normally again. But the memory of what had just happened hung heavily over the room. Arlong was violent, abrassive and a menace to humankind, but you couldn't ignore him in his time of need due to your Hippocratic Oath. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. What exactly had you gotten yourself into?

[my-supernatural-rewatch]

Episode Five: Bloody Mary

Dean Winchester in the Supernatural episode Bloody Mary

Never one of my favorites but on this rewatch I realized it's actually pretty damn scary.

A child's game of Bloody Mary unleashes the vengeful spirit of a woman who travels through mirrors and seeks revenge on those with guilty secrets.

This one will probably not be that long either.

Right out the gate, we get concerned Dean who wants to talk about Sam and all the bad dreams he's having. Sam isn't very forthcoming. Big surprise.

I know we get a lot of "no chick flick moments" and all from Dean in the dialogue. But we also get Dean consistently saying to Sam basically "LET'S TALK ABOU THIS" so the narrative that Dean doens't like to talk about his or anyone else's feelings is already dispelled within the first five episodes of the first season yet it stuck to Dean for the entire series.

Make it make sense.

Right here is where I'm going to remind anyone who might come across this and decide to read it that I am not writing full synposes of the episodes so if you haven't actually seen the episodes there's a good chance you will be lost reading these posts if you're looking for any semblance of a plotline. This is definitely one of those posts that will completely confuse you if you don't know the episode. Sorry/not sorry.

I'm wondering if this is the only episode where we see the brothers bribe someone? It probalby isn't but at least it's the first. Sam bribes the coroner's assistant with money Dean won in a poker game.

Which gives us more of Sam trying to take the moral highground when Dean complains that it's HIS money by dismissing it becuase Dean won it playing poker. As if that isn't working for the money.

Christ, Sam.

Also on Sam: Yet another episode where he changes his voice when talking to the family of the victim so he sounds more sympathetic. How did ai never notice this before?

Cute brothers moment in the bathroom when they're both standing in front of the mirror talking about Bloody Mary and both refuse to say the words.

Okay, an important plot point: Bloody Mary only kills people with a terrible secret that they're absorbed with guilt over. Spoiler: Sam feels guility because he had dreams of Jessica on the ceiling burning for days before she died and he not only didn't warn her but he also took the fuck off with his brother to find their missing father who isn't really fucking missing. (Hey, does this mean we can pin Jessica's death on John?)

Another Dean myth dispelled in this episode is his intelligence. I mean they already pretty much have shown us Dean's no dunce, but in this ep he spends a LOT of time doing research, absorbing the material, and explaining things. And in one scene, he decides to do a national search for dead women fitting Bloody Mary's profile, against Sam's judgement...and THAT is how they figure out who she is.

Check out the big brain on Dean, motherfuckers!

They drive from Toledo, Ohio to Ft. Wayne, Indiana, and back to interview someone, and my geography knowledge is so limited that I had to Google how long that would take. In one of what I would guess is one of their shorter trips, it's only about 3 hours round-trip. (THESE are the things I'm thinking about while watching the show?)

The name of this week's damsel in distress is...Charlie. I get there were over 300 episodes of this show but it drives me nuts how often they re-use names. (Amelia anyone?) Anyway...

Using his patented compassion and soft looks Dean's the one who gets Charlie to admit the thing she's guilty about (a troubled boyfriend who threatend to kill himself if she left him and then who DID kill himself after she responded "Go ahead").

In the Impala, the brothers are discussing how to call out the spirit and Sam says he has the guilt so he'll do the summoning. Dean has had enough of his emo, fatalistic bullshit so he stops the car and tells Sam to fess up his secret for fuck's sake.

Dean's concerns are that the spirit will kill Sam, and he reminds Sam that it isn't his fault that Jessica died. Someone should tell Dean we've decided it's John's fault because what does Dean say?

"Why don't you take a swing at ME? I'm the one who dragged you away from her in the first place."

Setting up a decades-long argument among SPN fans who think Sam made his own decision because he wanted to go back to hunting and those who blame Dean for goddamn everything.

To be fair to Sam, his response is, "I don't blame you."

Thanks for that, Sammy. (That's from me, not Dean.)

Dean really doesn't want Sam to call out the spirit but Sam is damned and determined to. It feels less like he's doing it to save poor first Charlie and more like he's doing it because he feels like he shoudl be punished for what he did (or really in this case didn't) do.

And thus begins the storyline of emo Sam feels guilty about everything that isn't his fault for the next two seasons culminating in Dean going to hell...

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Inside the antique shop where Mary's mirror is supposed to be, Sam is trying to call her out while Dean goes outside to talk to the cops who have shown up since someone is mucking about in the shop. When he can't convince the cops that he is the adopted son of Mr. Yamashiro, Dean knocks both cops out.

How often has Dean (or Sam) done this? I feel like not often.

We're also on a steady stream of slowly showing how well Dean can handle himself in a fight and I'm here for it.

Hey back to smart Dean (and skipping over pretty much the rest of the story): He breaks the first mirror that Mary appears in when she seems to have Sam in his trance and it gets Sam out of his trance, but it doesn't kill her. She shows up again and Dean...not Sam, Dean, gets the idea to hold another mirror up to her...and she kills herself when she looks in it.

Dean is a smarty. Stop telling me he isn't.

But not that smart...this time he only gets a handshake from the woman he saved...not even a kiss on the cheek. Oh well, Dean. Better luck next time.

We end the episode with Dean asking Sam what it is he feels guilty about...what his secret is, and Sam says this:

"Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself."

Two things: Sam telling Dean he'd die for him is kind of huge. Up until now, he's been acting like Dean is an inconvenience. So I loved hearing that. But, again, we get Sam not opening up to Dean about his secret...and yet fandom lore is that Dean is the one who always refuses to open up.

Some notes for posterity:

The significant music from this episode comes from Def Leppard -Rock of Ages (the first but not the last time we hear this one!), Fall Out Boy - Sugar, We're Goin Down, and The Rolling Stones - Laugh, I Nearly Died.

The brothers pose as medical students from Ohio State but don’t give out their names. When they introduce themselves to the first victim's family, they give their first names and say they worked with the victim. When Dean is talking with the police he tells them he's the adopted son of Mr. Yamashiro.

This hunt takes place in Toledo, Ohio, and they take a trip to Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Dean wears John’s jacket in this episode.

[anxiously-sidequesting]

okay wait stop. okay wait for me, okay just- (steps around my mountains of garbage and slime)

Listen we all love Malorn Ashthorn (as we fuckin' should) but I just realized. okay, just how much undeserved mess that poor blessed soul went through

Like okay think about it for a second. He's introduced early on in the first arc as Malistaire's former top student and now impromptu Death Professor at Ravenwood, okay so we all know that. But the implications man. The implications, I didn't think about the IMPLICATIONS.

He's like this 12 year old kid, okay. Already even BEFORE his official appearance in the game, imagine being a straight A student, one of the very best (to the point where it's noted and revered amongst the other professors AND your fellow students), under THE Malistaire Drake, who, even before his villain arc, was also one of the most esteemed and powerful Death professors ever. Like I couldn't even keep a C in school that shit must be wild

AND THEN. And then, your professor literally commits several war crimes, causes irreversible damage and trauma, and becomes a national criminal against.... the universe???? Like Malistaite commits heinous terrible shit, and sinks the entire Death School along with him. And then it falls to Malorn Ashthorn, once again who's like a teenager, to PICK UP THE METAPHORICAL PIECES because he had no choice. He was literally the only candidate to fill in Malistaire's place, a legend turned monster, to teach and guide GENERATIONS of new children that are HIS AGE or even OLDER THAN Malorn is.

And then the actual changes in the school. Malorn, former student, now has to learn how to become a professor with his limited knowledge of Death Magic. Like imagine filling in for the college astrophysicist teacher when you've only graduated 6th grade. He has to change his SCHEDULE, from waking up early as a student to get up and get ready even EARLIER as a professor to prepare the classes HE comes up with. Not to mention late nights grading hundreds of papers from multiple students??? AND he either is the ONLY tutor (which means more overtime and work for him, to personally help individual students with different Death lessons), or he has to actually call upon help from other students to help him get his job done.

And then there's like the relationship aspect of it. Malorn is literally just a child, like any other student, but adopting a role as a professor, an adult, means that he also has to adopt a certain mindset. Malorn literally HAS to be patient, HAS to be guiding and nurturing, HAS to be the adult in every situation in order to be a GOOD professor. Malorn has to train hard not only in magic to be ahead of the others in order to teach them properly, but has to retrain his mindset to be ABLE to handle to teach properly. Like you can't be a regular tween teaching other tweens.

And then it's just the pressure after that. The PRESSURE GUYS, of not only living up to one of the most talented and accomplished the school has ever seen, but deal with the fact that the very same person also became a tyrant and war criminal and left Malorn, his most promised student, in his place. Like I could easily imagine the rumors, the judgement, and the fear surrounding that boy, wondering if he would ever turn out to be the same as Malistaire.

No one asked for this. This soap opera I mean, nobody asked me about Malorn Ashthorn or this long ass post but I don't care because I'm crying. Girls I'm crying my entire bed is wet with tears of despair and snot. Malorn is literally a sweetie oh my God he does not, and never will deserve this shit I'm so sorry honey. Sweetie Malorn baby I'm so fuckign sorry, i'm so so sorry,

[midnightmuffingay]

Rating the pets of EAH based on what is on the EAH wiki and my limited knowledge:

Adelita - Rosabella's butterfly. I have never heard of this. Also apparently Adelita translates to 'noble'?? 3/10 I don't think it suits her and also how do you keep a butterfly as a pet.

Barber - Poppy's squirrel monkey. I guess squirrel monkeys are cute and I can see it as a pet for her but I have yet again no memory of this. 5/10

Clipper - Holly's lion cub. Apparently it is 'charmed' to stay a cub forever?? Don't know how that work or why she has a lion or why she would name it Clipper?? there are better names girl. 3/10

Carmine - Cerise's dire wolf. Okay so technically they're part of the same pack or something but it's the daughter of Littler Red Riding Hood and the big Bad Wolf. You can't go wrong with giving her a wolf friend whose name is another shade of red. 6/10

Carrolloo - Kitty's caterpillar. A sneaky little guy. From what we saw of him he compliments Kitty's personality and you know, a caterpillar with a wonderlandian? It's not like I can be mad. 6/10

Clockwork - Cedar's wooded cuckoo. Okay I do actually like this a lot. Even if we never really saw him it's a great concept for her pet to be wooden like her. Especially when you consider it would probably have to been made specifically for her. I love it 8/10

Clydesdale - Farrah's pet mouse. Don't recall and there are better mice. 2/10

Divacorn - Briar's unicorn. Absolutely slayed so hard I don't care about the name which is an astonishing feat. I mean of course Briar would have a pink unicorn it just makes sense. 8/10

Drake - Hopper's dragonfly. Drake. 2/10 Only getting extra points because it is a literal DRAGONfly. He breathes fire.

Earl Grey - Maddie's dormouse. Perfection. Best dressed of all of the pets. Is a silly little guy with a silly little hat that lives in her hat. Impeccable. 10/10

Gala - Apple's snow fox. Gala is a great name just because of the fact this it is not only a type of apple but also a fancy party. Very royal, on brand, like to curl around her neck. Iconic. 8/10

Grizz - Blondie's baby bear. Blondie. Girlie. You are a reporter. Please get original. A bear for goldilocks' daughter is fine but it's just like. I'm bored girl. You can do better. 3/10

Jelly - Ginger's gummy fish. I. Love this. A sentient gummy fish she accidentally made? So iconic I'll ignore the basic name. It's like naming your goldfish 'Goldie'. Anyway, I love the concept, love the execution. 8/10

King Benedict - Humphrey's chicken. No. 2/10 for egg related name.

Mr. Cottonhorn - Dexter's jackalope. Guys. Guys. look at him.

He's just a little guy. 10/10.

Moustro - Melody's rat. I like the idea and the pun name but I feel like I'd need to see a picture to be impressed. 5/10

Nevermore - Raven's dragon. There is no need for discussion. 10/10

P-Hawk - Daring's peacock. I think I remember him being kind of terrible so uh 1/10 because Daring I don't think that's how you say peacock honey.

Pesky - Hunter's squirrel. I love how even though they're like enemies they have the same haircut and Pesky has a little acorn bag that Hunter definitely made for him. Lives up to his name. 7/10

Philia - Cupid's Pegasus. Apparently 'Philia' is one of the ancient greek words for love that is often translated to friendship. soooo, even though I didn't know about her she gets a 6/10 because I think that's sweet.

Pirouette - Duchess's swan. Queen. Icon. Slay. Need I say more? 10/10

Sandella - Ashlynn's phoenix. The fact that Ashlynn has a phoenix because it rises from the ashes is so hardcore and I love it. Even if her name is Sandella. 7/10

Shuffle - Lizzie's hedgehog. The bestest and cutest little croquet ball. I don't have much to say but love you dearly. 7/10

Sir Gallopad - Darling's horse. He can change colour and camouflage which is THE coolest thing. Horsegirl Darling. 8/10 Also Daring officially has the worst pet out of the Charming siblings.

Spindle - Faybelle's pomeranian. Of course an evil fairy you have such an unassuming evil little dog. And of course she named it after her evil destiny. Iconic. 8/10.

[orchidyoonkook]

Do you have any tips for new writers/accounts to get popular???

Hello!!!!!

SO:

I was a shit writer for a very long time cuz I never wrote. But one day I wanted to change that so at 19 I made up a story and wrote down all my plot points and then did a DEEP DIVE on Pinterest of all things collecting every bit of advice I could. I’m talking ideas, how to do this, how to not use the word said, how to start sentences. How sentences should flow and their lengths, big uncommon words. EVERYTHING.

Anything and everything I could get my hands on. 

And on top of that I’ve been a reader for forever. I have so many books I don’t even know how many I have. And so I use that knowledge when editing. I don’t read it from a writing POV after I write it. I turn into a reader and think about how I would feel about it from a readers POV and if something doesn’t work. I fix it.

I have a small background in script writing from my college days which definitely helped a bit. But if you’ve ever studied script writing you know it doesn’t really help creative writing outside of structure.

And when I write I’m someone who writes until I think the story is done. Not the arc. Not the characters. But the overall story of what I’m trying to portray. I don’t actively think about putting the climax of the story here or some foreshadowing there. I write intuitively if that makes sense. I try to sense out what feels right. And some of that comes naturally, some of it doesn’t and I have to work on it.

Me and @violetsiren90 were actually talking roughly about this last night. Our differences in how we write and how my advice from her last fic that I edited had already helped her with her new one cuz she can now see all of the little things that I pick up on from my style of writing versus the times where she tells me why she writes in that specific way and why she will be keeping it as is. Vi if you wanna add anything in the comments I’m forgetting, by all means feel free.

Most writers will tell you to practice. To tell you to write something even if it’s just a sentence everyday. But that didn’t help me. The stuff on my blog are the very first things I’ve written for myself ever. I didn’t write in highschool or college outside of what I was forced to write and my one story that the Pinterest board was initially for.

For me it was about researching style and reading posts like these from other writers, being confident in your style and learning what rules to break and when to break them. It was about reading over your work a hundred times and to be impartial when you read so you can fix the mistakes that won’t work.

The benefit of writing is you can go over something you’ve written a hundred times until you think it’s ready. A thousand times. I can go back and rewrite that first story if I want too. Nothing can stop me.

But don’t get me wrong. I go back and read all my works on here from time to time and I still constantly find things I would change now. Word changes. Phrasing changes. Everything. But that’s just another sign of improvement. Writing is a constantly improving art form. There is no limit. Only growth.

And the last thing I do is write down everything. I have a TERRIBLE memory. So I write down every single idea. On a scrap piece of paper. In my phone. On a computer. In a notebook. Cuz you never know when you’ll use it.

My most recent story, The Devil Wears Valentino, I got the idea for that name sometime in the immediate aftermath of Valentino Yoongi. I was in the shower after watching the devil wears Prada and my mind just connected the two. And then it sat unused in my notes all until the week before Halloween 2023. I would’ve forgotten had I not written it down. But there it was right when I needed it, a gift from past me. And here we are.

As for popularity, dude I have no goddamn idea. I don’t even think I count as a popular/big blog. I utilize the HELL out of aesthetics, formatting and tags and I’m nice. That’s my spiel on that. Aesthetic. Format. Tag. Kindness. Talent, sure. I guess. But writing is one of those things, ESPECIALLY in fic, where it doesn’t have to be the best cuz folks just wanna read their comfort character or person in the same scenarios over and over again. Source: I do that. And I’ve read stories that don’t have the best writing. But the story was good, or vice versa. People are way more forgiving on here.

I didn’t come on here(tumblr) with the intention of writing let alone giving writing and popularity advice. I just wanted to read and support people and then the community I’ve built for myself has just grown and grown and I’ve been so incredibly fortunate, which is where kindness comes in.

Leave reviews and like and reblog stuff. Tell people how much you love their work. Let them know you write too. Create friendships with people who wanna support you. And people who you wanna support. Community is the base of everything.

[bugcatcherkit]

okay i would like to rant right now but i struggle to get my thoughts in order so it might be messy. ok? anyway

FOREVER will be kinda mad about this change. to be honest

the original scene reads like suchh a terrifying revelation for Reigen because despite knowing how powerful Mob was he never really found a reason to fear him -- to Reigen, his powers were mostly "under control (thanks in part to him)." that single page alone gives you basically all the information you need to understand that Reigen is suddenly realizing that he is faced with a side of Mob he has never seen before -- one without limits and also one who seems to harbour some contempt for him (for imposing them). and not only that, he is WEAK and VULNERABLE in comparison because the power he usually uses to protect himself is currently turned against him. LOOK HOW SCARED HE IS!!!

BUT even despite his fear and powerlessness he is still determined to try and reach out to Mob so they can talk things through

and i LOVE the "maybe worrying is fine, too... it's only natural" panel because it reinforces that same realization through its framing. they were both scared of mob's power in that moment but they faced and accepted it anyway, just as they both held contempt for the "other side" of Reigen and faced/accepted it as well. but it was like. IT WAS SCARY!!!!! physically and also interpersonally things very well could have gone TERRIBLY and that was SCARY!

AND IN THE ANIME ITS JUST. ITS LIKE. it feels triumphant. which is cool, i guess, but also it lacks the feelings of Deep Fear but Acceptance that made the original so impactful to meee. in the anime, he doesnt feel vulnerable, he feels empowered (which, personally, kind of takes away from the whole thing? a little) He is Reigen: facing something head on like he always does because he doesn't leave much room for doubt in his abilities to turn things in his favour. He is NOT: Reigen, doubtful and scared that things wont turn out well because he has no security in this situation due to his lack of control/knowledge about it, but choosing to face that anyway instead of running away (cuz he has the responsibility to right his wrongs and also he really cares about mob)

does that makes sense

[bracketsoffear]

Maureen Miller (TAZ: Balance) "I saw beyond the omniverse

far past the places we should see

but for my vision I was cursed

torn from my home and family

lost to my Crystal Kingdom"

"Maureen was a scientist who attempted to view the entirety of the planar system simultaneously, but the knowledge of what she saw destroyed her mind and killed her. Even her ghost was not immune to the cosmic madness that the vision imposed on her, though she was able to suppress it for brief periods."

Jadis (Kill Six Billion Demons) "Jadis was born into a family of philosopher royalty who saw the Shape of the Universe as an experiment to study and dissect; they wasted ten generations in their efforts to witness the Shape (something that boiled a goddess’ eyes to see) and obtain all the secrets of Creation, a task she was prophecised to complete. She successfully saw the Shape, but it proved to be a thing beyond mortal ken and Jadis was shattered in both mind and body. She now exists inside a block of glass, a decaying, unmoving corpse, whispering prophecies with her perfect, terrible knowledge and worshipped by a cult devoted to recording and intepreting her whispers (and occasionally mis-interpreting them) while keeping their God-Queen alive. Book 5 demonstrates that, like the author has said, “Jadis knows the most, in fact. Of anyone. Ever”…and it has utterly destroyed her. Her perfect knowledge left her a deeply jaded, nihilistic woman who feels her actions, choices, and even her own identity (and everyone else's) are rendered completely moot when compared to the full shape of the universe. As someone who is ignorant of nothing, Jadis' limits are absolute and she is incapable of anything she hasn't already predicted will happen. She can't choose to do anything, because her decisions and their outcomes are already known to her. The alt text and some of her lines in her section of Breaker of Infinites discuss how if you can see everything, anything in it just becomes meaningless, unidentifiable noise in the infinite detail of it all: “When you see everything, there’s only one color left.” Jadis straight-up tells Allison that she, Jadis, does not exist in any meaningful sense because she can't tell where the lines between the Shape of the Universe and even her own mind are anymore. Consequently, Jadis tries to convince Allison to stop her mission to stop the destruction of the multiverse because she’s convinced that fighting is futile and meaningless in the end, so she should surrender instead of choosing more suffering. She takes Allison to see the machine that showed her the Shape, tells her the exact time from then she will die, comments on a personal detail of Allison’s past, and says what she’s doing before she does it (to make it creepier, her predictions were in the alt text several pages before). She then shows Allison the Shape and gives her a breaking speech to try and convince her to give up, and eventually talks Allison into accepting futility for months before she gets her shit together. Allison eventually realizes that Jadis is unable to change or recover from the traumas of her past because she no longer has a past - her perfect knowledge of everything that ever is, was, and will be means that she is constantly, continually reliving the complete and total despair that hit her when she saw the Shape and realized the futility of everything, and will do so for as long as she exists. Jadis wanted to know, believing that she could use her wisdom for the greater good, but the horrible knowledge she gained by seeing literally everything ever destroyed her so completely that she cannot comprehend being a person or making choices anymore--she has thus trapped herself in nihilistic certainty that she knows what’s going to happen and therefore nothing matters, and she wants to impress that mindset onto the only person she can even share her omniscience with anymore."

[twin-chains]

Explaining A Chronological LOZ Timeline

(Based on this post)

First, the elephant in the room: Skyward Sword

How does Skyward Sword come after Spirit Tracks?

Well, as we know the world was flooded by the goddesses in the adult timeline of OOT which triggered the events of the Wind Waker. Then after WW/PH, Tetra goes on to sail to new lands and found the kingdom of New Hyrule as we know it over a hundred years later in Spirit Tracks.

With Spirit Tracks having extensive train systems, why stop there? The longer the kingdom stands, the structure and technology of New Hyrule will only continue to improve. Like build large temples and cisterns to honor the spirits or advanced tech like robots in the distant future. Maybe even ones to help them mine resources or man pirate ships to continue exploring the Great Sea (Tetra was a pirate first, after all).

But then there was another terrible war on the surface and the goddesses couldn’t flood the land again to save its people. Out of options, there’s no where else to go but up, and Hylia hid her people in the skies until the war was ended. It’s not like godly intervention is a new concept in this timeline. During the Era of the Sky, some of the flood began to rescind, drying up waters to expose sandy deserts and new lands on the surface.

Thus, the ancient temples of Faron and robots in the Sand Sea of Lanayru in Skyward Sword could come from New Hyrule and part of the Great Sea in Spirit Tracks.

Like cmon, they literally have robot pirates!

And New Hyrule already contains interesting clans and races not seen before in other zelda games like the Lokomo and Anouki. It’s not far off to think other unique peoples like the Kwikwi or Mogma once inhabited the same continent.

Furthermore, remember how the recruits of the royal guards/knights of Spirit Tracks wore specific uniforms that model the WW hero’s clothes? What if one of those recruits happened to survive and be sent to Skyloft? They could have wanted to pass on their knowledge and founded the Knight’s Academy, retaining the knight uniforms as a way to preserve their history. Of course, the meaning behind the uniforms was later forgotten since they end up changing up the uniform color every year. It was only by luck (or destiny) that SS Link happened to get the green version of the uniform.

Basically, my reasoning for SS coming far after ST is the ancient temples/robots, Lanayru sand sea, unique species, and knight’s uniforms all come from New Hyrule.

But what about the Master Sword?

For the most part, we know the blade of evil’s bane is a silver sword with a purplish handle. The iconic look that Fi is based off in the first place, right?

Except, some iterations of the master sword are blue. Or the little diamond-shaped gaps of the hilt are inconsistent, being blue or green or purple (with the crossing ribbons part being green in this case), or are missing altogether. Hell, the MS isn’t even present in the original 1986 game.

Sure, some of these minor color changes can be attributed to graphical limitations or different art styles per game. But what about all the transformations the sword has gone under like the drastic red and gold color changes of an upgraded MS in ALTTP/ALBW? How do we go from a thin, white and light green Goddess Sword forged into the larger blade in SS?

(I made a powerpoint infographic :D)

That's why I propose the master sword isn't one single blade, but rather a title given to multiple swords throughout the years. It already has legendary, grandiose titles like "The Blade of Evil's Bane" and "The Sword That Seals The Darkness" so why not 'The Sword of the Master' which would've gotten shortened to 'The Master Sword' over time. But not just any random sword can be deemed the MS. It's the hero of the sword, the wielder of it, that makes it the worthy blade of a master.

That way it includes the first hero of TLOZ wields the "magical sword" who hadn't yet become a master or how the hero of men forges the Picori Blade which later becomes the Four Sword in MC. And explains how the master sword seems to change locations between the Lost Woods or temples all the time. They're all different blades.

Yes, some Master Swords can be retained between generations though. I'd be willing to say the sword from OOT is the same in TP or the one forged in SS is the same one in BOTW/TOTK for instance (since Fi's chime can be heard in TOTK).

But how does Demise's curse and the reincarnation cycle fit into this?

During the end of Skyward Sword, Demise speaks these final words:

"My hate...never perishes. It is born anew in a cycle with no end! I will rise again! Those like you... Those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero... They are eternally bound to this curse. An incarnation of my hatred shall ever follow your kind, dooming them to wander a blood-soaked sea of darkness for all time."

Usually, this is interpreted as Demise declaring this Link and Zelda as the first of an eternal cycle and Ganondorf is his reincarnation. Yet in the Skyward Sword manga, there is a whole other hero who fought for Hylia before the reincarnated SS hero, so how can the SS hero before the first iteration who 'started' the reincarnation cycle?

Remember when Demise says 'those with the blood of the goddess and spirit of the hero are forever bound to this curse/cycle.' What if he isn't saying 'I am actively binding you two (Link and Zelda) to a curse I'm creating right now' as is the common interpretation. Rather, he could be saying 'there is a pre-existing curse that you two are already bound to, and only a god like me can perceive it. So I'm pointing it out to you now because I'm adding more to it.'

It's a bit of a stretch but bare with me.

Yes, Ganondorf/Ganon is seen as the reincarnation of Demise. I mean they tend to have similar builds and the same striking orange-red hair, right? But there several other villains in the franchise that don't remotely resemble Demise or his hatred. In fact, the only time Ganondorf looks like a true reincarnation of Demise is during TOTK (more on this in a bit).

Instead, there's something greater at play. Demise supposedly locks these two souls in reincarnation but fails to acknowledge why the triforce always seems to be a part of this cycle as well. Link is always the representation of courage and Zelda is always wisdom even when these souls are reincarnated as completely different people.

The only explanation I can think of is that the golden goddesses created Link and Zelda's souls to permanently embody their triforces. They locked these two in reincarnation as insurance to keep peace and order in the world when there is a threat or thief of the triforce of power. Sorta like a system of balance, their souls were put in place to keep the more volatile of the three triforces, power, in check if it got out of hand. As mortals, Link and Zelda wouldn't really be aware of the inherent duty/burden placed on their souls but it would be more obvious to an outside deity like Demise. That's why these specific versions of Link and Zelda are only really ever reincarnated when there is any sort of threat to Hyrule to deal with, not just Ganon but also Vaati, Zant, Yuga, Cole, etc.

Besides the reincarnation cycle theory, Demise definitely did declare that his hatred would be reincarnated in SS though. But it's not just every iteration of Ganon. With the greater extent of destruction that Demise causes compared to most zelda villains, I'd go so far as to say the battle against Ghirahim and Demise in the events of SS were the first Calamity from BOTW. The second Calamity was that of the Sheikah, the ancient Zonai hero, and the Divine Beast detailed 10,000 years before the events of BOTW/TOTK. And the third Calamity was the events of not just BOTW, but also TOTK.

You know, the era when the physical embodiment of hatred (aka malice and gloom) poisoned the land, when the hero and most of the kingdom was killed, and when rehydrated Ganondorf looked eeriely more similar to Demise than any other Ganon. It matches up a little too well with how 'an incarnation of Demise's hatred' will haunt them forever. Especially when there is a giant valley on the BOTW map literally called The Breach of Demise.

More to come about how the other games fit into this timeline au. Let me know your thoughts and ideas!