#i like the first one better but i think they both make sense

[jinxificada]

unfamiliar check

adoptive sister!jinx x adoptive sister!reader

summary: eavesdropping on dad brought an unexpected bonding between sisters.

notes: nsfw ! 1,5k wc, no proofread. again, jinx and reader are not related biologically. not my best work but i stayed up till 4am to finish it…

ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺

“jinx.” you whisper-shout, trying to adjust your sight to the darkness of her room as you peek your head inside. she rolled over in her bed, grumbling. “are you awake?”

“what?”

“i heard something from dad’s office.”

she opened her eyes, just enough to see you approaching her and kneeling next to the bed. you were frowning.

“you’re being paranoid,” she dismissed, closing her eyes again. “he must be working.”

“i dunno… i wanna check in on him, come with me,” you insisted, shaking her shoulder softly. “please?”

jinx groaned, “fine.” she complies with an annoyed sigh, pushing herself up off the bed with a quick stretch. “let’s go.”

as you and jinx cautiously tip-toe towards silco’s office, the noises get progressively louder and more obvious. jinx approached first, her breath hitching in surprise as she pressed her ear against the door.

“no way…”

“what? what’s going on?” you urged, only to get smacked in the arm as she shushed you.

another sound emitted from the other side of the door, causing jinx to blush and grin in both amusement and disbelief.

“no fucking—“ “what is it?” you try to push her to press your ear against the door.

“keep it down! you idiot,” she pushed you against the wall, her hand on your mouth. “they’re fucking.”

your eyes widened, an instant blush spreading across your cheeks. sex? your father? it sounded ridiculous, but the faint groans proved her right.

you both squirmed, inching closer to hear better. a particularly loud moan startled you, shying your eyes away from jinx’s as she snickered.

as you listened in closely, you can vividly hear distinct sounds coming from the room; low, guttural groans, moans, pants, creaking, slapping… it felt like your ears were overheating.

“disgusting.” she scrunched up her nose, tugging at your arm as she pulled back. “c’mon.”

she takes your hand and guides your back to her room, commenting on the situation with a lighthearted demeanor. you were way too affected to respond like usual, plopping down on her bed with her.

“‘can’t believe dad was nasty like that,” she continued to laugh, just then looking over at you with a grin. “what’s up with you? i could swear it looked like you enjoyed listening to that.”

“did not.” you huffed, smacking her hand away when she tried to poke you. “it was just… too much, don’t you think so?”

“maybe if you’re a prude.” jinx said, grinning. she leaned back and put her hands behind her head, tilting her head to you, “you sure were invested though. i mean… you’re blushing like a tomato.”

your blush *still* hadn’t faded, and was probably even more prominent now. you tried to think of a response, but your mind was elsewhere.

“that’s not it!” you protested, but jinx only chuckled amusedly.

“eww!” jinx’s laugh rings in your ear as she rolls over the bed, you keep shushing her but she’s having way too much fun. “are you seriously turned on?”

a laugh escapes your lips, sounding embarrassed but infected by her amusement. a light shove on her side starts a playful wrestling fight. the already messy blankets tangle up with your legs, immobilizing you and easing her the win. she effortlessly pinned your hands together over your head with only one of hers, the other suddenly moving down to your lower waist.

“be honest,” she purred, her touch tantalizing and exploring as she lowered to grip your hip. “are you wet?”

the change in the air caught you off guard, your smile wavered noticeably as you try to make sense of the sudden flirtatious tone and the obscenity of her words.

“w-wet? of course not—!” you argued with a weak, slightly trembling voice.

“really? then you don’t mind it if i check?” she smirked.

“g-go ahead, i’m not wet.“ you said, but your voice cracked when jinx’s hand slipped below the waistband of your pajama shorts.

you gasped at the light touch, arching your back involuntarily, consequently pressing yourself against her palm for a quick moment before flinching.

your little reaction didn’t slip past jinx, and she smirked again.

“for someone who ‘isn’t turned on’… you’re getting awfully squirmy.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but when her hand moved down lower, you couldn’t hold back a small moan.

“w-wait, n-“ you tried to speak, but your mind was starting to go blank.

her slender fingers work under your clothes, teasing your throbbing clit with slow circles. you were wet, jinx could feel it. you shut your eyes firmly and bit your lower lip, holding back from grinding against her touch.

your efforts to keep from squirming and moaning were getting more and more difficult.

“look at you,” jinx teased, “so worked up by just a couple minutes of eavesdropping… i’m not even moving that fast.”

her fingers continued their slow, torturous pace, and your body was quickly overheating. you started to fidget, your legs shifting to get some much needed friction, parting them for her.

“jinx, stop—“ you tried to protest, but the syllables were quickly becoming moans and whimpers. your words were laced with arousal even though you were trying to ground yourself. you clearly weren’t doing a good job, soon your body following the pace jinx was setting.

low sighs and curses left your mouth only to be eaten up by jinx, your breaths mingling together for a while now. she kept teasing you, hoping you would break and ask for more.

“god, you’re so sensitive.” she whispered, her voice sultry.

your conflicting feelings were dissolved the second she nipped your lip, hardly enough to make you wince as she pulled it a few inches away. it was almost automatic, the way your tongue stuck out and received hers without a second thought. her tongue was hot like fire as it explored every nook and cranny of your mouth.

your inhibitions lowered so abruptly, in a moment later you were whining for her to touch you properly.

“ya like that, toots?” she hummed, returning to cup your pussy but with a firmer grip, making you exhale harshly. “i can feel how bad you want it.”

“y-yes, i want it.” you broke, squirming under her weight. “please, hurry.”

“hmm…” jinx pushed down your clothes, tugging playfully at your pubic hair and chuckling under her breath when you hissed: “asshole.”

she gathered your moisture, brushing upwards to repeat her movements now against your bare pussy. she entertains herself by changing the pace just when you’re growing used to it, going from light, long strokes to rapid and hard rubbing.

“fuck—!” you almost growled, frowning deeply at her. “stop teasing, jinx.”

she hummed pleasantly at the way you say her name, trying so hard to sound firm despite the wavering voice. her teeth find your throat as she pushed a finger in, you shudder at the new sensation, mewling softly and tilting your head back.

“say my name,” she suddenly pleaded, her breath hot against your skin. you comply, breathlessly repeating her name once, twice. “again~” she giggled, adding a second finger.

her fingers buried inside of you, pumping hard enough to push your whole body. the bed cracked, another reason to blush.

were you two too loud? could your father hear you like you heard him?

you couldn’t bring yourself to care. your sister was fucking you like she’s been wanting to for ages. the thrill of being caught made your head spin.

a soft splashing sound of your fluids echoed in jinx’s room, she moaned with you, smiling contently and making sweet remarks about how well you were taking her and how hot you sounded. you started to tear up at some point, feeling so close.

she was hitting your sweet spot, she had let go of your hands to keep your hips still. now you were free to cling onto her, gripping her hair and pulling her into a bruising kiss.

“m’close,” you cried into her lips, a smile gracing them at your words.

“i know you are,” she said hoarsely, her fingers moving faster. “and it’s all me.”

you can practically feel the pride in her tone, she’s enjoying knowing that she’s the one causing this. her fingers press into you relentlessly, and her hand grips your hip a little harder.

“come on,” she muttered against your ear. “come for me.”

it’s a blur, she has to press her palm on your mouth to shut you up. though her excited chuckles might’ve been equally loud. she keeps fucking you through your high, finalizing with a soft smack on your pussy.

you giggle, too, twitching for a long minute as your body processes the orgasm. she still kisses you, lips, jaw, cheeks, she smooches your face with a happy grin.

she’s looked at you like this before, eyes glowing with admiration, devotion… yearning.

it almost makes you forget the reality of your relationship.

[thisuserisgonesorry]

1,, im not a teenager . might be young but i have a pretty good grasp on adulthood atp , and i’m not the only person that thinks this specific take; ive asked a lot of mutuals/friends who are (young,,) adults and agree w/ me and many people in rbs agree so like .. bringing my age into this is so left field cos . idk . weird thing 2 say

2 in my experience from living in a very “redneck” (lack of a better term) area (though not america, so there could be a difference), ive met 20-25 year olds who look and act exactly like daryl in s1 because teenagers in redneck areas just look like that. thats where my estimate came from, due to my own experiences

3,, norman reedus literally just looks young in everything he plays . you cant deny that he has a bit of a baby face and doesnt ALWAYS look his age . (but also celebrity men do look like that cos they dont just start rotting away the second they hit 23 because blue collar / minimum wage jobs suck) and never did i say there was a problem w/ him being 40 , just that it didnt make sense in my mind,,, nd actors can play characters that are a different age than them. norman being 40 ≠ daryl having to be 40

4,, he wasnt embarrassed until around season 3-4 iirc , closer to when he was around more people and less isolated , closer to merles death , more so around when he found out carol would go to that community home to get away from ed and then more around beths whole arc (iirc? im a bit aways from s3 rn,,)

nd considering 25+ is around when the frontal lobe developed. yeah. he would act like an idiot in s1. like all young adults do. and he would helplessly follow his brother around for validation considering his childhood, and he’d do whatever he wanted. he would be a terrible drunk, with no job. young adults do that. especially ones w/ mental health / bad childhood

then he develops into a person who was willing to learn to deal with his trauma when around season 4 when (in hc) he’d be like 27 at the earliest (?) because we have to remember that we skip all of loris pregnancy and then the first year (?) of judiths life. making him on the closer side to 30 around the time the prison, when his character starts developing.

(and i never said 25 was the solid age, just that hes “like 25”, meaning im happy to account s1 daryl as 26,27,28, whatever, just that hes under 30 in s1 in my mind)

5 i agree that him being older plays a part in his story but i dont think being 25 suddenly makes him a little baby that makes his development void. his frontal lobe developed. that is a valid subtextual reason for him to mature. but that isnt the only thing that made him reflect and want to cope with his trauma. merles frontal lobe developed and he never tried to do what daryl did - therefor the age thing doesn’t exactly diminish his story or else merle wouldve changed before the outbreak, but he didnt, because some people dont. some people reach frontal lobe age and stay the same. its not “he just grew up” because then merle would have too, but he did grow up, and realised following merle was stupid. but he wouldnt have reached that outcome if there werent other factors so it can easily be both

6 i never said 40 looks old or that theres a problem w it, but how is he older than rick? than most of the other people there? being older than rick feels like it makes no sense (although rick didnt grow up like daryl did and they had carl young so blab yeah theres reasons) and merle being 35+ does make some sense though id somewhat agree 35 is young for merle. m not saying that ppl start decomposing when they hit 30 but god forbid i hc someone as not 40

+ trauma physically ages people so even if daryl did look the same age or older than rick, then it would still be plausible that hes younger. we see trauma age characters in this show. its not hard to assume it happened to him outside of the outbreak too

prob formatted this like a mess but ,, m tired

n e way other people in the rb say that they think daryl is different ages to all of them (varying from 20-40) and as i said in those rbs its interesting that no one can really “agree” on what age he should be cos hes an enigma like that and i think it suits him,, like we all can agree on certain things about certain character cos its a unanimous vibe but then his unanimous vibe is that no one truly knows him??? subtext of it all .

anyway /nm for all of this . im just a little guy . i respect ur opinion cos i love my pookie and i really do love that everyone interprets his story so differently ,,,, i just like talking about it

idgaf im sick of not saying it. s1 daryl dixon is not fucking 40 bro. hes like 25. there is no way in fucking hell.

[arcane-ish]

Season 1 Vanco, Season 2 Vanco and why I love both

There are people who will insist that shipping season 1 Vanco and season 2 Vanco is almost two different things. I don’t fully agree.

I wrote my “why I’m drawn to them” post in season 1 and even back then, for me at least the allure with the idea of the “one big happy family”. Of it being so close you could taste it. Of it being the ultimate what if. Of all the things that could be fixed if Zaundads were just real (in season 1: mostly the conflict between Jinx and Vi).

So yes, season 2 came as a shock of just how aligned the writers ended up being with the way I saw the ship even in season 1. And even in some ways I wouldn’t have dared to hope.

Still, I do understand the point that s1 Zaundads is a subtly different ship almost as s2 Zaundads. I’m just lucky enough to like both.

Season 1 Zaundads…

Season 1 Zaundads was broody and mysterious. Full of violence, veiled references and open questions. “I’ve heard this kind of talk before”, “There are worse things than enforcers out there”, “you had my respect”, “brothers and sisters, back to back against whatever the world threw at us”.

But also of evocative parallels. If in my ways Vi is Vander’s and Jinx is Silco’s, if they are like their fathers and yearn to be together, is it that strange to imagine a this being mirrored by Vander and Silco when you try to imagine their relationship? When Silco as he tries to ward off Vi is the one who draws the comparison to him and Vander over and over again, while Jinx questions how honest he really is in this regard?

And then there’s Silco and the heartbreaking parallels. The show starts with Vander changing his life to pick up his future daughters. And it ends with Silco ending up in a very similar spot, willing to value Jinx over attaining Zaun and losing his life over it. What can I do but question whether this falling out between them was really necessary if in the end maybe they end up in such a similar situation, which Silco himself seems to realize when he seeks out Vander’s statue.

And ah, the poignancy, that he seeks out the Vander statue at all to talk to it when he is so close to his moment of triumph.

Season 2 Zaundads…

When Season 1 Zaundads drove us crazy with speculation what happened between them, what they were like in the before timed, what exactly happened to make Vander turn on Silco, sesaon 2 answers some of those questions. And yeah, some of those answers were underwhelming, not gonna lie.

But! To me there’s still beauty in season 2. Season 2 on a Zaundad front is so much about yearning. About Vander’s yearning especially. It’s there in his letter. It’s there in how Silco is still in Warwick’s mind as he scours the mines half crazed.

It’s there in the little love shack and the jackets. It’s there in Jinx, the person who probably knew Silco best in the recent years says the letter would have mattered, it would have changed so much. It’s there in Silco, a sweet, loving Silco memory being the first thing that shows up when Viktor manages to enter Vander’s soul.

And there are other things, worth loving, the way Silco looks even in Vander’s dark red visions of him, the way the tease in the flashback to their younger selves, the way Silco is scribbling away and then of course … the AU.

The AU that has the writers coming out firmly on the side of “a reunion would have been possible” but also “a reunion is close to the best thing that could have happened to the world”.

This element might not be necessary to make a good ship, and it sure isn’t what I expected to get when I shipped them in season 1. But I think a shipper group or two can confirm that it feels pretty damn awesome to look at your ship and think: “their love changed the world and it made it better” (and you know, not just just in the sense that they are the ones that made it worse in the first place :p)

A personal take

People talk a lot about how Silco and Vander could have made up and how they achieved the Zaun we see in season 2, episode 7. Did Silco come around to Vander’s side of seeing things, or the other way around. I don’t have a problem with either approach.

But my personal preference has always been towards balance, of both parts of a couple being developed and important and worth cheerleading.

So for my personal tastes, I like to think it needs both of them. They are better together than apart. Their approaches are flawed are incomplete without the other. Silco’s approach is shit highly questionable (as in: I question whether the society he would achieve would be a very appealing one and not full of its own problems) if it doesn’t have some of Vander’s conciliatory and communal elements and Vander’s approach is shit without Silco’s zeal and focus.

[indieyuugure]

Heya! ^^ 👋

Random question: Do you like the tmnt bay movies? :^

I think the bay movies are okay.

I think the second is better than the first one, but they both have their issues.

My main complaint is probably the writing. It’s kinda sloppy, mainly in the character department and just feels kinda half baked?

I think they kinda accidentally made the turtles more like young adults than teens too, but I watch the movies thinking that they were adults, and I find it’s not as bad and some of the writers decisions make slightly more sense.

Probably a controversial opinion, but I personally feel like they did a pretty good job with the turtles’ designs. I know a lot of people hate them, and many people complain “eugh, why are they so ugly! I don’t like it!” Except that’s the reaction you’re supposed to have to the turtles.

I see people also say how unrealistic it is that people shriek when they see the turtles in cartoons, but I dunno, if bayverse is what the turtles look like irl, maybe it makes sense, you get what I’m saying? Like out of all the odd things in those movies, I thought that was actually really cool.

I’d say overall I thought the movies were like perfectly mid. Like I don’t hate them, but I’m not obsessed with them. Just perfectly in the “yeah that was pretty good” movie range. Decent.

Good question! :]

[butterflywingswrites]

reposting all my anon fics in one place. enjoy 🤗

giving caitlin a massage on vacation part 1

caitlin flopped down in the middle of the bed. yes one bed with your hot friend you have a crush on is probably not the best idea but the hotel was already expensive and you refused to let caitlin pay for everything like she insisted

“i can’t believe this fancy hotel doesn’t have massages. i swear it said they had on the website” caitlin sighed, she was really looking forward to the post-plane massage

“i’ll give you a massage”

“right now?” you were surprised that she was taking you up on your offer, shes normally very reserved

“yeah. take your clothes off” you paused “i think that’s how massages are supposed to be done”

you averted your eyes as she took her clothes off in an attempt to be respectful of your friendship. you were both single. she knew you were bi and you knew she was ‘sexually open’ (but didn’t speak on it publicly because she didn’t need people knowing her private business) so it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could hook up this week but she’s never responded to your flirting in a manner other than friendly, so you wanted to respect her boundaries

“on my back or on my front?” she kept her underwear and bra on. there’s the reserved caitlin you knew

“i’ll get your shoulders first. lie down on your stomach” you allowed yourself to look at her body as she laid down. you’re a thighs girl through and through but those arms and abs are impossible to ignore. caitlin surprised you by unhooking her bra, lifting her chest a bit, lowering the straps off her arms, and throwing her bra off the bed. but you weren’t going to complain about a pretty girl taking her bra off in front of you. you placed your legs over her hips to get in a good position and started to massage her shoulders. she let out a loud satisfied groan. fuck. you were already wet one second in

“i’m so tense i really needed this” you continued to work on her strong shoulders while trying to contain your arousal. the soft moans and sweet whimpers she made were insanely hot and it was already difficult to focus. you moved down to her back. you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable so you kept your hands away from her side boob. she seemed to sense your hesitancy

“just really manhandle me. go as hard as you can” you placed your hands on her back and let your fingers graze her side boob. she didn’t object so you continued to work on her back. again with the soft moans and sweet whimpers. as you got to the bottom of her back, you considered whether you should massage over or under her underwear. you decided over just to make sure she was comfortable. she squeaked when you put your hands on her ass

“is this ok?”

“yeah of course. i was just a little surprised. keep going. please” the bit of desperation in her voice turned you on even more. you continued to work on her ass as you scooted down her body to get in a better position. you breathe in a little as you finally put your hands on her thighs. they’re so muscular and would look amazing on top of your shoulders. you pulled her legs apart to get more leverage and you couldn’t help but notice there was a wet spot on her underwear. fuck. you smiled to yourself. if the only thing that happens between you and caitlin is that you made her wet by having your hands all over her, you would be happy with that. more soft moans and sweet whimpers. you held back your own moans as you, a thigh girl, massaged the most gorgeous girl’s gorgeous thighs. you took your time on her thighs, you were enjoying yourself and she’ll stop you when she’s ready. the moans became less soft and caitlin eventually put her hands on yours to stop their movements

“can you do my front now?” she sounded a little desperate as if she was trying hard not to expose that she was turned on

“yeah. turn over” she turned over, exposing her tits and abs to you. you quickly put your eyes on her pretty face so she wouldn’t see you taking in her body. she put her hands up to cover her chest. you smoothed her shiny hair down and examined her flushed cheeks. she looked amazing under you and you could easily see yourself being on top of her again and again

“is this helping you? are you less tense now?” you had to say something so you wouldn’t kiss her and potentially make things weird

“yes this feels amazing”

“let me get your tits” you said as you pushed some stray hair behind her ear “you’ve been working so hard all season, you deserve a full body massage”

“nah you can skip them. they’re small they don’t need any attention”

“small and cute and perfect. they deserve all the attention” she rolled her eyes but gave you a cute little smile. you moved your hands from her beautiful face down to her chest, nudging her hands off her tits and replacing them with yours. you massaged her tits and rubbed your thumbs over her nipples. her eyes closed and her mouth opened slightly. you could see her damn tongue that she was always sticking out but never putting it where it belongs (your mouth). soft moans and sweet whimpers left her mouth again. eventually you moved your hands off her tits and down her abs. they were so tight and toned she must do crunches constantly. your looked up at her face. she seemed to be enjoying herself so you decided to be brave and dip your fingers below her underwear waistline as you rubbed your thumb in circles around her bellybutton. she raised her eyebrows but didn’t object to your hand placement. you took your hand out of her underwear and once again separated her legs. did the wet spot get bigger? fuck. instead of starting at the top of her thighs, you decided to tease her and start at her knee.

you put both of your hands on her right thigh, massaging up as slowly as possible. god her legs are stunning. the higher your hands got the louder her moans got. when you eventually got to the top of her thigh you slowed down even more and ‘accidentally’ grazed the wet spot with your fingers. she let out a particularly loud moan so you moved your hands to just above her left knee. you laughed a little to yourself at her frustrated face and obvious irritation but you knew the payoff to the teasing would be worth it. as you moved your hands up her thigh as slow as possible, her soft moans got louder and her sweet whimpers became more needy. you once again ‘accidentally’ grazed the wet spot when you got to the top of her thigh. she let out a long moan and made a face that was clear she was thinking. you ran your fingers over the wet spot again. she grabbed your hands with her right hand and the back of your neck with her left hand. she pulled you down to her with her left hand and finally puts her tongue where it belongs (your mouth)

[jeonscatalyst]

it’s always been interesting to me the difference between how two major ‘fights’ within BTS are told, or three if you include Koobis banana incident 😆

The dumpling fight, and the rainy day fight TM.

I thought about it since hearing Jimin talking about how it took a while for him and Tae to get closer in AYS, and said they did after that big fight. That he shook with rage at the time. The fight never really made sense to me, the dumpling one, as Jimin said it was over petty things, that they often fought over silly things.

Then you’ve got the rainy day fight, and the way they spoke about it at Festa 2020, and in lives in 2023. Both pretty much recounting it exactly the same as the other. I saw a video edit mash up of it but couldn’t find it, where the stories interwove and it’s amazing to see it. But at Festa dinner, with the others reactions, the giggling from Jin and Joon, that it sounds like a k drama, that it sounds like something a couple would do. And it does, it sounds exactly like a k drama, the dramatic pause when JK is lost, the make up in the rain, the hug. It’s so cute, and so endearing to hear them talk about it. How their relationship is essentially so important to them, they made up that night, unlike the dumpling fight, which lasted.

It shows how they really do have a good way of communicating with each other, even back then. And for JK to feel sorry to Jimin for that, and it’s something they can talk about and look back on with fondness almost, is testament to their bond.

Hey anon,

I think the Vmin fight(s) is relatively easy to piece together and understand if you have a solid understanding of their relationship….something many people unfortunately lack.

Jimin and Taehyung were among the members who got close almost immediately after meeting in my opinion. Looking at content from their rookie days, it’s clear that even the other members often pointed to them as the two who were closest. However, while they were friends and close, their relationship at the time seemed more surface-level. They didn’t fully understand, accept, or relate to each other yet. It reminds me of those teenage friendships where you genuinely like each other and have fun together, but the connection lacks a deeper level of understanding. That’s what I believe Vmin’s relationship was like in the beginning.

When Jimin says it took time for him and Tae to become as close as they are now, it doesn’t mean they weren’t friends or weren’t close before. It simply means that, over time, their bond deepened as they grew to better understand and accept each other despite their differences.

In the BTS book, Tae shared that when he first met Jimin, he struggled to understand him. He couldn’t grasp why Jimin pushed himself so hard, why he seemed so passionate, or why he was impatient about achieving his goals. Tae also described Jimin as intense….traits he found hard to relate to at the time. If you know anything about Tae and Jimin, it’s clear they’re fundamentally different people who approach life in very distinct ways. Add to that the fact that they’re the same age, and it’s easy to see how misunderstandings would arise.

I believe their many petty fights and arguments stemmed from these different approaches to life. The dumpling incident, while often highlighted, was more of a boiling point than the root cause of their conflicts. It forced them to address unresolved tensions and misunderstandings. This is why, after that fight, both admitted they’d gained a deeper understanding of each other, which ultimately strengthened their bond and brought them closer to where they are today. The way this fight is often described says a lot about their dynamic and the depth of their relationship.

On the other hand, Jikook’s “rainy day” story perfectly illustrates the foundation of Jimin and Jungkook’s relationship. Their bond is built on trust, support, and a profound emotional connection. While this wasn’t always apparent during their rookie days, anyone paying close attention could sense the nature of their bond and what it was rooted in.

The other members’ reactions to the rainy day story….rubbing goosebumps away, cringing, or making remarks like “That’s what a couple would do”, reveal how they themselves perceived the story. Even their singing of that angsty romantic taxi driver song adds to this perception. People might try to downplay it, but to me, it’s significant.

This story highlights the depth of Jimin and Jungkook’s emotional connection and how much Jungkook values Jimin’s presence and opinions in his life. It shows how their relationship has always been characterized by healthy communication and an innate ability to reach and support each other. Jungkook feeling bad about it years later underscores just how meaningful that moment was to him.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 20

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. -> all chapters

Twenty. 二十

He was right, of course. 

Donaka takes you up to the very top of the Peak for a fabulous view of the city and the blue harbour below. It’s touristy but so fun, and in his company it feels all new again.

He takes you for a walk through Victoria Gardens nearby, a quieter little park you didn’t visit on your birthday foray. He holds your hand, and the two of you chat while you stroll, and it’s possible you lean on him more than you have to in your tall shoes. 

He doesn’t rush you while you admire the flowers, taking pictures of some of the bright tropical blossoms you like best with his phone for you. You even goad him into taking a selfie with you, his long arm extended as you both snuggle for the camera with the azure-tinted cityscape of Hong Kong spread out behind you. 

This little sojourn is tranquil, and sweet, and if you didn’t know any better you would almost feel like the two of you were a normal couple. 

When you return to the car park a pack of young boys are standing around the Bugatti, ogling its svelte mother-of-pearl curves. You find yourself tensing, expecting Donaka to explode when the youngest boy dares to touch the chrome gas cap emblazoned with a dragon, his round features written with awe. 

Donaka speaks firmly to the boys in Cantonese, making them jump, but one of them smiles up at the tall man as though he senses his gang is not completely doomed, and answers with a cheeky lilt and hands on his hips. They chatter back and forth, and you are dumbfounded when your forbidding beau says something to make the boys laugh. You are even more surprised when he pulls a fold of brightly printed Hong Kong dollars from his pocket and hands it to the oldest boy, pointing to an ice cream kiosk across the way. The pack cheers and races for the treat stand, calls of “Do jie! Thank you!” drifting back as they jockey for first place at the window. 

You laugh, so loudly you cover your mouth with your hands. “What did you say to them?” 

“They told me they were guarding the car, so I had to pay them off,” Donaka answers with a smirk and a glint of what you think might be admiration in his dark eyes. “Quite the racket.” 

You feel your heart swelling annoyingly in your chest. 

It doesn’t escape you that he could have staged this whole thing just to pull at your heartstrings. And yet…you don’t think so, even if only just because you don’t want to. 

With a low rumble in his chest he backs you against the car with a step into your personal space. “Still think I’m a bad man, bunny?”

“Maybe,” you answer with a little smile, craning your neck to look up at him.

This earns you a bark of laughter and the glitter of dark enjoyment in his eyes; he’s so beautiful it’s intoxicating, a spreading warmth like pure opium rushing through your limbs, straight to your brain–and your loins. You are not thinking clearly, as your hands slide to rest on the flat of his chest. 

You do not care as much as you should, that one way or another, you’re being bamboozled by this dangerous man. 

“Smart girl.” 

He ducks down to claim his prize, his soft lips pressing to yours. You feel like you’re floating, and you decide that at least for today, you don’t care that you must have lost your sense of self-preservation somewhere back on Tai Tam Road. 

***

By the time you make it back to the underground garage tucked neatly under Donaka’s house, you are feeling warm, and pliable, as though you drank too much too fast, or maybe you’re just overdosing on dopamine. You can’t put your finger on it just yet, but later you will look back and realize that after living in fear for so long, this day of reprieve must have done something considerable to your brain chemistry. 

You’ve never actually been in the garage, and you look around curiously at the array of sports cars in every color. It’s like a museum, every vehicle staged on the high polished floor with its own dramatic lighting. There’s the white Lamborghini you so loathe, a deep blue Bugatti, a burnt orange McLaren, a sporty little Porsche, a BMW something or other, and many others you have no clue as to their identities. 

None of the four-wheeled vehicles catch your eye the way a smaller machine does in the corner.  

“Is that…a motorcycle?” you ask, peering past a beetle-black Mercedes.  

Donaka nods slowly, watching you with some amusement. “Yes.” 

“Do you ride?”

“No, I just like looking at it,” he quips with a smirk. 

Turd.

Just when you thought he couldn't get any more attractive, he goes and pulls this.

You bite your lip, gauging how much you dare ask of him today. “Will you take me for a ride sometime?” 

He chuckles at you, that sparkle of mischief in his polished onyx eyes. You can tell he is narrowly resisting the urge to make a dirty joke. You think he spares you only because you made it too easy. 

“Hmm. Maybe.” He ducks down to kiss you, speaking against your mouth, “If you’re good.” 

“I’m feeling…very good,” you admit brazenly, fancying (perhaps stupidly) that you are safe, and just maybe, a little bit, in love. Your hands slide under his suit jacket, exploring his solid torso as you pull him closer to you. He does you one better, crowding you back against the Bugatti, pressing you into the machine’s hard carapace with his body against yours. 

It should hurt, but there's something to be said for dopamine poisoning. Rather than protest you melt, yielding unto him like putty in his hands. When he withdraws to look down at you his pupils are blown wide, black as a shark’s, and you know he could eat you in one bite. Yet there is a warmth therein no killing machine of the ocean could ever manage; it lodges your heart in your throat. 

“Come on.” He tugs you towards the elevator, and you follow dumbly like the lovesick little idiot you are. 

You can tell he’s trying to take you back to the bedroom, but you can’t stop kissing each other, and the progress is slow. It’s as though the good food and the sun-filled day have cast a cloyingly sweet spell upon the two of you; the world moves in syrupy slow motion, and he kisses you in the hall, pressing you up against the wall, and in the living room against the couch, and at the foot of the stairs, the banister biting into the small of your back as he bends you over with his ardor, his strong hands squeezing your curves like he has all the time in the world to enjoy you. His passion is slow and inevitable as the crashing sea; gladly you withstand these waves of affection, knowing that later you will be bruised and sore and sated as a happy housecat dozing in a sunbeam. 

When you nearly trip over your sky-high shoes on the first stair he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you back to his lair like you are some rarified prize. In a way, deep down, you can’t help but feel like you have somehow duped this man. For some reason he thinks you are special, that you are a covetable little treasure that he must guard for his own. Surely he will come to his senses at some point…but for now? 

For now, you feel like a queen, as he seats himself on the edge of the bed with you cradled in his lap, tasting you like your lips are his favorite sweet. You giggle and moan as he tips you back onto the bed, falling onto you, utterly engulfing you from above as he pins you with kisses. You know, deep down, that it’s madness on your part that this makes you feel more protected than captured–reality is a tenuous thing, when you are drowning in such a cocktail of lust and love, a lethal dose delivered straight to your bloodstream every time Donaka’s lips touch yours. 

That mouth, so terrible and beautiful, the source of his lies and so much of his power over you, leaves a trail of fire down your skin, from your neck to your chest, his sharp teeth scraping maddeningly at the swell of your breast. His hand beneath your skirts finds your pretty silk panties soaked. 

Ruined. 

You’re absolutely ruined for him, and you don’t know what to do about it that won’t feel like cutting out some crucial part of yourself that you need to live. 

If this is all a trick…you’ll die. 

You’re certain it’s that simple, and you feel yourself surrendering to him with a new degree of foolish abandon. As though he senses this shift in you he draws back to look you in the eye, sweeping your hair tenderly behind your ear with a hand so large it could engulf the entirety of your face. It could hurt you, bend you, break you…you’ve been waiting for it all along, deep down, but instead he is touching you like you really are precious to him, and dear God it’s so unfair you could expire in his arms. 

You expect him to pay you one of those panty-melting smirks that equally makes you want to do violence and melt into his arms. Yet what he offers you is ten times more crippling: his smile is slight, but all warmth, and even while that voice in the back of your head chants stupid girl, stupid girl, you stupid girl!--the rest of you is putty in his hands. 

You watch him with fascination as he sinks to his knees beside the bed, sliding your damp panties slowly down your thighs. “I’ve been thinking about getting under this pretty skirt all fucking day,” he tells you with a searing heat in his dark eyes, before he utterly wrecks you with his lips and his tongue upon your needy, aching cunt. He brings you to the edge of release before withdrawing with one last teasing lick, and through your complaints you are vaguely able to think: there’s the sadist I know. It’s almost a relief, to find yourself in familiar territory, off balance but in a far more familiar way. 

It lasts for less than a minute, as you lay back and watch him undress, divesting himself of his beautiful suit that almost made him seem like a completely different man. You bite your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed, voracious for the sight of the dark god beneath those deceptively light-colored clothes. 

Drawn like a moth to the flame, you push yourself to the edge of the bed, pulling him to you, to your greedy mouth and tongue that craves the salty pearls of precum gleaming upon the tip of his erection. You lap them up like your prize, swallowing him down before taking him deeper into your mouth, your tongue teasing that thick and throbbing vein. He lets you have your way, his long fingers tangled in your hair as you bob upon him at the pace you’ve learned he loves. 

There is foolish triumph in your veins, when you glance up to see his head thrown back in abandon; this powerful man completely unguarded, for you. Only for you, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

If it’s a lie–you don’t want to know the truth. 

Not yet. Maybe…not ever.  

***

He makes love to you agonizingly slow, his beautiful cock buried so deep inside you that you swear to feel him in your lungs. His blackholes for eyes fix upon yours, inevitably, inexorably, drawing you into him, consuming you body and soul. His bare skin pressed to yours, your legs locked around his narrow hips, inviting him deeper, deeper, until there is no line between you or him. 

If it is a mind-fuck, it is the most skillfully executed deception in the history of man. 

The alternative is almost just as terrifying. You go to pieces together like that, inextricably entwined, his name on your lips like a prayer. He fills you with his hot seed, his face buried in the bend of your neck and his teeth in your shoulder, his iron grip bruising your soft skin–marking you as his everywhere and every way he can.

all chapters

[gayofthefae]

"I should have explained myself because maybe then Eleven would have taken me with her, but - I don't know. I didn't know what to say."

That isn't what he said the first time.

"I should have said something. And maybe if I had said that thing, Eleven would want me there with her."

The sentiment of him being with her and knowing/ensuring she's safe is consistent. But he isn't actually repeating himself. There's no need for him to as a person and as a screenwriter, repetition should DEFINITELY be cut.

He's changing. He's brainstorming. He's starting to consider other angles of the "could have"s. The "what if"s.

He starts with "what if I'd just forced an 'I love you'". But I think he likely settles on what we can logically deduce for ourselves in that situation - "I made the right choice prioritizing with what I knew of the consequences at the time".So he changes. He changes.

He changes to "I should have explained myself".

"Explained myself" is NOT the same as "said that thing" and that is VITAL.

I should have just sucked it up and told her I loved her if it meant keeping her safe.

No, I did the best I could with the information I had

I should have told her the truth. Maybe she would have taken it better if I had just told her that I don't love her but it's my fault, not hers. Now she thinks it's hers and that I'm hiding it.

And, perfect timing, Will comes in with (in Mike's pov) "It makes sense why you didn't, though, don't beat yourself up. She was gonna get hurt either way and everything would have been a risk as to how much."

And Mike nods. And the next time we see him, he's saying

"Will she still even want me in her life if I can't give her the love she wants? All I can do now is to make sure she knows it isn't her fault, that's the selfless act I can do for her, but if I confess I don't love her, what other use am I to her? Will doing what's best for her by telling her it's not her fault, it's mine, instead of continuing to lie make me lose her?"

He says "explain". He starts with "maybe I should have changed the 'what'". Then he shifts to "maybe I should changed what she thought of the 'why'". Ironically, his question in the van once he's come to that conclusion is "how?".

The first pitch her makes is "maybe I should have told her I loved her" and Will says "don't worry, you'll have another chance", and he turns away and introspectively reacts with

aversion.

But then he says "maybe I should have just explained the real reason behind my actions instead of denying them all together" and Will says "that's a scary thing to do. It's a hard decision. You're doing your best", and he turns away and introspectively reacts with

understanding.

Honestly, being understood. And sometimes that's what you need to find understanding. He's been confused this whole time, that's been his whole thing, but he looks like he's starting to piece something together now - finally. Will put his own feelings into words for him to hear out loud so could finally get them and get them in a validated way.

Instinctively, he knew the first one was easier but wrong. He didn't want to lie to her. Both times Will said "if that's what you want to do, I believe in you", but only once did he agree. He knew it felt like the wrong choice the first time and you can see it. The second time was a new choice he was considering.

And you know what? While we're here. Telling her he loves her: aversion. Telling her the truth: understanding and drive. What happens next?

He expresses "what if when I tell her the truth, as I've decided is the right choice, she appreciates it but doesn't need me for anything else beyond that?" And Will says "she'll stay. You got this.", and he reacts with

Comfort. *

He didn't know what to do. Then he did, but he was scared to do it. Then he wasn't so scared anymore.

He's thrilled to see her and forgets for a second but - much like El with Will on roller rink day - is reminded by seeing Will that now that she's actually here, it's real. He's committed to his actions and they're impending.

But he's not so scared anymore. Bravery, though, doesn't mean no nerves. He's hesitant and not happy looking when he talks to her about it first. He tries to lighten the mood - "the whole world went to shit and everything" - and he's watching her reactions like a hawk. It feels like less of a risk now enough that he can do it, but not so little that he isn't scared. Either way though, it's worth the risk for her to know it isn't her.

He didn't know what to do. Now he does. He was scared, but he's not as much anymore. Not too much to do it. They're interrupted. Okay, oh well, he'll find another time.

And now to break your heart:

Mike had an idea, Will said it was good, but Mike met that with aversion.

Mike had an idea, Will said it was good, Mike met that with understanding and agreement.

Mike was scared, Will said he had no reason to be, Mike met that with comfort.

(I'm sorry) Mike was scared for El - unrelated - and looked to Will for comfort - as he had every other time - when he tapped him on the shoulder, Will said he should tell her he loves her, and he reacts with

anguish.

This was not Mike's plan.

This was not their plan, so he thought.

Mike's reaction tells us everything about what he knew and what he meant for what's to come. This was not what he meant. That was not what he was going to say. This was his plan.

And there's that part of you too that always wishes to go back to semi-ignorant bliss. Even if just panicked confusion. Because wasn't it nice: when telling her you loved her evoked this

And not this

Wasn't it nice when you knew...just a little less?

Wasn't it nice, in a way, when you couldn't see the happy ending so clearly?

Don't you sort of miss - when you couldn't taste it?

also fuck it for just for that list bit and the bridge of this song here's my illicit affairs edit linked because "you showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else"

[j-partneringrime]

Rachel Amber is such a good character and I don’t get the amount of hate she gets. I feel like people who are judging her based on some of her actions really don’t understand her character, because that’s exactly what happens in the games. In the first game, most people who talk about rachel say how popular she was or how beautiful she was, and how cool she was at parties or how good she was at modelling, almost everything said about rachel from people other than chloe is stuff like that. the way they talk about her to max, who never met her, really seems like they don’t view her a as an actual person and more as an idea, they let their idea of rachel overshadow who she actually was and what she actually did and felt, she was always the popular girl or the party girl or something like that, she was always “rachel amber” instead of just rachel amber (if that makes sense). And rachel leaned into that assumption of her a bit but not in a lying, manipulative way like some people say, but in a similar way to chloe being known as a trouble maker and a rebel, which made her act like that more than she would’ve normally, without that expectation of her. It’s just so heartbreaking to see after rachel’s death that most people who she knew, when asked about her, don’t actually talk about what she was actually like as person. And that’s shown even more while she was alive in BtS, that everyone has an idea of her but no one truly knows her, even her parents think of her as their perfect, smart, polite, always good daughter, which isn’t who she is, I mean it’s part of her and everything else people think of her aren’t lies, but they’re only part of her. And chloe is the only person we ever see rachel fully open up to and when talking about rachel, actually talks about what she was like as person and the full person what she was, not just the idea that people got from her. That’s why it’s so sad and mischaracterising when people say she was using chloe and manipulating her, because chloe was the only person she ever let her herself fully be free with and without any expectations of her, including her own parents. I don’t understand how people can see their relationship and think it’s all fake from rachel’s end, especially since the ending of BtS and the big final decision is about the trust they have in each other and how rachel trusts chloe completely, because the final choice of whether to tell her the truth or not is very much framed as either don’t tell her and save her the pain of losing her father, which chloe understands and also knows how much rachel needs her family right now, or do tell her because rachel has complete trust in chloe and to not tell her would be to betray that trust, and to betray the only real relationship rachel has, and to view that thinking rachel doesn’t care about chloe removes all meaning from that moment. That moment is literally about how much trust rachel has in chloe and how much she cares about her and the choice you make is deciding if you are going to be worthy of that trust and love that rachel is giving you or if you’ll betray it and hide something incredibly meaningful from her when she needs someone to be there for her more than ever. And I feel like that trust between them is what ends up helping rachel open up more after BtS and what lets rachel let down some of walls when she and chloe hang out with other people, like steph and mikey or justin and trevor. Rachel is an amazing character who deserved much better from both in universe and real life. She deserved to live, she deserved to get out of Arcadia bay with chloe, she deserved to meet max and she deserves to be seen as she is by the fandom instead of the strange evil and manipulative idea some have of her. Rachel Amber is an amazing character, and deserves all the love <3

Also the argument at the junkyard, really shows just how much people’s perception of rachel affects her, that chloe, who she has never really spoken to before and only interactions are yesterday at the concert and today skipping school, both of which are good days for them and go against what people think of rachel, after all that chloe still pushes and kind of forces the ideas and assumptions about rachel on her, even though none of her experiences with rachel fit that perception of her, she still uses it against her, because that’s just how she’s known sadly. Which I don’t fully blame chloe for because both her and rachel weren’t in the best mindset during that fight and literally everyone has that perception of her so chloe leaning into that perception of her is believable but you know, it still happened.

(btw these are more my thoughts about her from an in universe perspective, not how she was written irl, because I know some of the stuff I mention, like how people talk about her in LiS 1, is because of the story and how her character is purposefully written and meant to be viewed)

[skvaderarts]

After several delays (sorry, everyone) chapter one of Various Storms and Saints is done!

AKA the "Jayce accidentally ends up in a good timeline where he and Viktor are together" fic I said I would write.

Summary: Word count 4.7k

After meeting Wizard Viktor and the bad timeline, Jayce takes up the grim task of heading back to his own timeline and setting things right the only way he knows how. But along the way, something goes awry and he ends up in an alternate version of Piltover and Zaun where things appear to have gone very differently, especially between him and Viktor. But after experiencing firsthand the life that could have been between him and Viktor, will he be able to go back and fulfill his promise? After knowing the love that could still be there can he bring himself to destroy it forever?

(If there is smut later, it will be in stand-alone skippable chapters in case that's not your thing. Tags will be periodically updated to reflect the plot.)

A03 Link

Chapter 1: St. Jude

Notes: Hi, everyone! Thanks for checking this out! I hope you enjoy it!

—

“St Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes.

St Jude, we were lost before she started.

St Jude, we lay in bed as she whipped around us.

St Jude, maybe I've always been more comfortable in chaos.”

—

In truth, he’d started to think he’d go mad down there.

The top of the Hexgate loomed over the wasteland that had once been Piltover and Zaun like a lighthouse in a storm, as tantalizing as food to the starving; like a distant thunderstorm in the scorching heat. He had simply known that he needed to scale it. To stand at its zenith and behold the ruined world below him. 

A world ruined by Hextech. By his dream. The culmination of their dream.

The culmination of his obsession and love for magic and his desire to better the world with it. The end of their shared brilliance and friendship. The fallible flame of Prometheus passed to him by the man cloaked in frozen, biting winds that had burned him nonetheless.

He’d been as compelled to climb up there as he had been to escape that forsaken cave. That pit where every ounce of despair held deep within him had manifested. That interminable oubliette composed entirely from his nightmares and the hell of his physical reality. As inescapable as the truth.

He’d crawled from the lowest pits of the Undercity to the very tallest structure to ever stand in the clouds of Piltover, a metaphorical journey that he wasn’t the first to make. But it had given him a sense of understanding he’d only once thought he possessed and a clarity only bitter suffering could provide. 

They’d both been through so much. And it had created this.

How fitting that it should mark the spot of their shared grave. The Hexgate. A monument to what they could achieve together standing as the last bastion in a dead world. The only life left within it sequestered atop its one gleaming crest. Everything else scurried below, barely alive anymore. Mutated beyond recognition. Nothing untouched by the corruption of the Arcane. 

They were both still living in a way, but equality dead all the same. One motionless in solitude, the other rooted to the spot, physically able to leave but unwilling to, trapped in their perpetual state of mourning A terminus of boundless misery, both forever alone despite being so close that the flowers that adorned one had started to spread across the clothing worn by the other as they remained by their side.

How did it come to this? It was unfathomable.

But as he stood there and took in the words that this version of Viktor had told him, he knew it to be the truth. He could not run from it even if he’d had the will to. He’d delivered the weight of Atlas to his shoulders so gently, so knowingly, and yet with such haunting regret. With such a look of profound knowing in his time-worn eyes.

He’d always known Viktor. He just hadn’t known it until that moment. From the first spark of magic to the birth of Hextech. The man who had saved the lives of his mother and himself. He’d once told Viktor he knew that he had no idea how beautiful magic was when he’d been the very one to bestow it upon him. Oh, how little they’d both know at the time. How small the universe had been despite how open they were to all it had to offer.

“We lost ourselves. Lost our dream. In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good. We have to make it right.”

Viktor’s words that day scraped across his frontal lobe like a razor's edge. He was right. He’d been right all along, in fact. He’d said then that the Hexcore needed to be destroyed. Once upon a time, so had their mentor. It was clearer now than ever that for the sake of everyone and everything there was only one course of action to take. One path to walk that only he could tread.

But how could he bear that weight? How could he pick up that hammer? Knowing what he was destined to do with it. When the time came would his conviction alone be enough to make him go through with it? He had never been more sure and uncertain about anything. Sure in the steadfast nature of his promise and uncertain as to whether or not that would be enough. If his will alone would be enough.

Even knowing this he took a breath and looked the man who had saved him as a child in the eye. Perhaps not even a man now. More of a divine being of such terrible power that he knew not what to call him. Not what to make of him. But regardless, as he kneeled there, his resolve strengthened even as pained reality set in. This was the only way. In his heart, he knew it to be the only truth available to him.

“Send me back.”

A hand once obscured by the fabric of the older mage’s robe lowered itself to the skeletal structure that kneeled before it, barely grazing the surface that was as much petal and moss now as it was metal, the cosmos eternally entangled with it. The silence from it was absolute all but for the brief movement of its vacant eyes. His own looking back at him for a place beyond his comprehension. What remained of himself uncurled its fingers, some of them breaking apart at the tips and remaining on the handle. There was no blood. It had been subsumed long ago. But the handle was as much a part of it as the warped base of the hammer it clutched was the structure they stood upon. A limb more than a weapon.

Jayce was as entranced as he was utterly disquieted, the fleeting thought of what it must be like to be this version of himself fluttering through his subconscious for all but a moment before he leaned forward and gripped the handle. Resolute, he met the eyes of this version of Viktor one last time before readying himself.

For all their sakes, he could never find out.

“I won’t fail.”

He felt the band he'd worn upon his wrist for what felt like a lifetime change, disappearing in a flash of light. The rune that had started all of this embedded itself into his very flesh and marked it with the permeance of a brand. A vow. Prof of the unshakable commitment he now carried by his own volition. 

He'd escaped the very depths of hell crawling on a broken leg, and yet he knew with unyielding certainty that this would be the hardest thing that he would ever do.

He had to stop Viktor. And every aching fiber of his broken being knew what that meant. 

And he hated it. Like nothing he'd ever felt before. So much that it frightened him.

It seethed within him like rolling magma from the depths of Tartarus, ready to erupt and disfigure the bedrock itself. To tear the earth asunder beneath him. Not a hate towards him but a hate for him. On his behalf. For everything that he meant and had become. Because of them both. Because of him. For everything he meant and had always meant to Jayce and the brilliance that would be snuffed out when he watched the light leave his eyes. For everything that he'd done to him even though he'd never meant to hurt him. Every wound he'd inflicted had been out of nothing but love. And that was why it was so corrosive; so volatile. 

The worst thing a person could do to someone was love them the way he loved Viktor. 

And yet, even knowing that, even as that truth gripped him, some part of him that he despised knew he'd still do it again because he couldn't do nothing when the life of someone he cared about was at stake. That was his foil. The chink in his armor. He saw that now. If only he’d seen it before it had led him down this path. The path, it seemed, that he was always destined to follow.

He would be saved as a child. He would meet Viktor. And they would destroy the world together.

The depths of such betrayal. It wouldn’t be the first time he'd betrayed someone he loved, but it would be the first time he did it on purpose. With the explicit purpose of harming them. That just wasn’t who he was. It went against every atom of his being; against his unfalteringly loyal spirit. 

He couldn't hate Viktor for what he’d become. He didn’t want to. But he could hate himself for what he’d done to him. What he was about to do to him. Later. 

“I swear it.”

The anomaly reappeared and engulfed them. A fleshy, almost tendon-like conglomeration of round inorganic shapes with little rhyme or reason to them. Visually little more than a mass of shifting rainbow hews and refracting circular portholes punctuated only by its webbed internal structure. Its surface structured and rigid despite its ever-rippling nature. It warped and sputtered, swelling and expanding before contracting and shrinking in pulses and variable waves. It seemed unstable to Jayce, but it was impossible to tell. The amalgamation was as unknowable to him as the depths of the ocean. He would not question how it worked. He knew its purpose. It would send him back.

And then he would set about his grim task.

Jayce shared one final parting glance with the older version of the man he’d once called his closest friend before he felt himself pulled backward, tumbling through the depths of the Arcane. It was a blinding and disorienting experience, channels of light to either side of him rippling through dark, cool hues punctuated by the occasional reds and golds as runic symbols blazed past him at light speed. What appeared to be the night sky loomed over him, stars sparkling in distant, vacant galaxies in the far-off cosmos he was sent along the path that had been purpose-carved explicitly for him. It was beautiful in a frightening way.

Gripping the handle of the Mercury Hammer tightly, he felt himself speed up, approaching velocities that he dared not consider. The implications of how hard his upcoming landing would be would start to eat away at his already raw nerves. He didn’t need that.

His head cascaded through memories and fractured visions, threatening to tear his mind apart. He presumed that he was nearly there. He would hold together for as long as it took. He would finish the job and then his mind could unravel. Perhaps that would spare him some of the inevitable guilt. Some merciful madness to provide him with a thoughtless reprieve.

But as he approached the end of the path, a thought occurred to him. The Arcane. He’d touched it back at the base of the Hexgate and it had felt strange. Alien. Unpleasant. But this was another facet of it. More focused and less untamed. It looked like he could reach out and touch it, skim over its surface just like a hand skimming through silent waters. He’d wanted to do as much during his childhood in the moment that he’d been whisked away to safety. Perhaps a bit of harmless indulgence amidst the madness of it all?

Cautiously, he reached out his hand, extending just his middle, ring, and index fingers. That would be all he needed to-.

He saw his body go one way as he went the other as if he had been snatched from it. It passed him as he lingered behind, time almost seeming to stand still as his mind failed to process the level of horror that he should be experiencing upon seeing something of that nature. And then he was yanked sideways, wrenched through the walls of the Arcane itself.

A fractal, almost psychedelic series of refracting reflections of his own body and mind encircling him and then spreading out in long waves, sending his body through a void of bright white light. He saw the back of himself, row after row repeating the same motions in a slightly delayed sequence as he closed his eyes, only to find that doing so did nothing to stop him from seeing. He felt his heart leap in his chest, his blood pounding as he tried to steady himself.

Curse his foolish curiosity. If he’d only kept his hands to himself…

Suddenly, he felt his body drop. Slamming downward as everything around him went completely white save for the infinite rows of rainbow light that encircled the black, bottomless cosmic hole that he now found himself plummeting into. He opened his mouth to cry out in fear but found that little more than a frightened yelp escaped his parted lips as he plunged into the depths. Jayce closed his eyes, unwilling to look. If this was to be his end then he didn’t want to see what would take him from existence.

Jayce felt his knees buckle and slam downward as his hands caught him and he came to a sudden, bone-crunching stop. He gritted his teeth from sheer instinct, waiting with dread for the inevitable pain that would make its unwelcome appearance in his left leg. But as he opened his eyes he was met with confusion as nothing happened, the only discomfort coming from his palms making contact with the ground beneath him, and even that was nominal at best. His knees tingled a bit, but hardly in a way that he’d consider painful. Slowly his eyes began to adjust.

Light flooded through the trees around him. The smell of crisp waterside air and the gentle flutter of the wings of birds as they soared from the treetops overhead, startled by his sudden stop. The feeling of a comfortingly cool breeze grasping at the fabric that he wore, ghosting over his skin with all the gentleness of a kiss. The sun shone overhead in a bright blue sky barely touched by the paltry smattering of clouds that dared try to impede the light from above, warm but not stifling as leaves blew past him on the paved path that he occupied. 

He was looking down at the pavement. There was pavement.

Startled, he scrambled backward onto his feet, instantly thrown off by how unburdened his movement was. He ran a hand over his visibly shocked face, shaking his head back and forth a few times as his palm made contact with the top of his head. There was no hair to brush out of his eyes. It was shorter. He had no beard. No stubble, even.

He looked down and, to his further confusion, he wore something completely different than what he’d just had on. Gone were the muddied and soiled whites and golds that he’d once worn and in their stead was a much more approachable set of clothing. He wore dark pants with a vest and a long-sleeved shirt underneath, the sleeves neatly rolled up to just over the elbow. The garments were complimenting shades of dark blue and that shade of Talis red that he was oh so accustomed to. Familiar but something he was almost certain he couldn’t remember ever wearing before. And yet, something he felt like he would’ve picked out in another lifetime. Certainly inoffensive to his personal tastes.

Taking a second to orient himself, he concluded that he was in a park or plaza of some sort. It had recently established trees. There were benches and what seemed to be a fountain of some sort a short distance away. Nothing noteworthy but it still felt that way.

The place was alive. So unlike what the place he’d just left had been like.

“Excuse me. Sir? You dropped these.”

Jayce turned in alarm towards the individual who had just approached him. An enforcer carrying what appeared to be a clipboard with several documents on it. There was a cover sheet covering the stack bearing a house single that looked reminiscent of his own, only with two hammers instead of the single one he was accustomed to. Everything else was the same from the style to the colors, aside from that notable difference. Odd.

The enforcer handed over the documents, stopping to adjust his uniform. It had probably shifted when he’d reached over to pick up the documents off of the ground.

“T-thank you.” It took Jayce a moment to speak, his mouth and mind not quite in alignment just yet. He wasn’t sure why that had been so hard. What about it had felt so foreign to him? Perhaps spending an extended period in a realm nearly devoid of conversation partners had made him accustomed to other people just existing around him? There hadn’t been anyone to talk to down in that hole except for himself and the vaguely amphibious creatures he’d been feasting on. It was a humbling thought, one that made him uneasy. “Sorry for the trouble.”

The enforcer nodded cooperatively, seemingly taking notice of how off-kilter Jayce seemed. There was just something a bit off about him. Oh, if the man only knew. And yet, he seemed familiar. Like Jayce had seen him before…

It hit him like a bolt from the blue. He looked like that sheriff who had died on the bridge during that attack a while back, only slightly younger. Less hardened. What had his name been? Something with an M. Ah, that was right. Marcus. The same man who’d brought him the documents he’d requested during his second day as a Counselor. The day that they’d gone to check on the Hexgates.

Wait.

Oh no. He’d gone off course. Surely. It should have been obvious at first glance and yet… Was he in the past? Was this another timeline? He needed to find out. Fast.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” It was so strange, speaking to a man he knew to be dead. Or who would die? He didn’t have the foggiest idea just yet, but still. He hadn’t known him but he still felt a small pang of sadness remembering the sight of him laying there when he’d visited the bridge that day with Mel. It almost made him feel queasy again.

“Of course. How can I help?”

“I… “ He flipped through the documentation on the clipboard, looking for something to go off of. A starting place for his investigations. And then he found it: a set of addresses. One was listed as a professional address, a tempting lead to be sure, but the other caught his eye. It was a home address. Apparently, his personal address since it was listed under his house name. But it was not the one he was familiar with. “Could you point me in the right direction?”

Marcus leaned over to read the address and then eyed him questioningly, seemingly wondering something but not saying it. “That’s just a few blocks short of a mile from here. Across the bridge in Central Zaun. Near The Last Drop. Go straight. You won’t miss it.”

The notion that the address was not in Piltover didn’t surprise him. He’d never seen a street by that name there. But Zaun? Was that what the Undercity was called in this universe? Had something disastrous happened in his personal life to cause him to have to move there? Maybe he hadn’t gone back in time, then. This might be more complicated than he’d first imagined. Fantastic.

He thanked Markus and bid him farewell. At least now he had a lead to work with. To Zaun, then. He’d been to the center of the Undercity before. It felt like a lifetime ago now, but he was certain that he could find his way down to the bottom again.

Making his way through town, Jayce couldn’t hope but notice that things felt different. Everything felt brighter; warmer and more optimistic. There were balloons on the street poles and banners over roads. Street service workers were in the process of replacing the standard lights with colored ones and an electric sense of optimism and excitement seemed to flow from everyone he passed. They were all looking forward to something, that much was clear.

And then he reached the bridge.

The structure that once served as a point of separation between the two cities gleamed under the bright sky, bustling with activity and purpose. Children played and vendors showcased different products and purchasable, perishable, or otherwise. People talked and laughed together from all walks of life. There were no blockades. Only traces of where they’d once been. Everything was clean and well-kept. People were enjoying themselves in an environment devoid of tension.

It all felt like a surreal fever dream. A beautiful one.

In truth, it stole his breath away.

He’d always hoped that Hextech could pave the way to a better tomorrow for them all, but to see the Undercity flourishing, even at just the surface level? This place was everything he’d ever hoped it could be. Everything that they’d championed for, especially Viktor. So tirelessly, even at the expense of his own well-being. To see the home that his partner had hailed from brimming with hope and beauty seized him in a way that he struggled to shake as he moved through the streets toward his destination. He wished he could show Viktor this version of his home. He wished he’d had the chance to grow up in this version of his home. No polluted water and acidic air, no downtrodden infrastructure or blackened skies heavy with soot and brimstone from the factories and mines. Just fresh air, daylight, and opportunity around every corner. What they’d all disserved from the very start. What they’d been deprived of by the simple virtue of being born on the wrong side of the bridge.

Genuine tangible irrefutable progress. He wanted this for his Piltover. For their Piltover.

He hurried along, checking the addresses as he passed by what was undeniably the center of town. Past The Last Drop and down its open, winding roads that had once been so narrow and stifling. Down to a quiet but still active zone filled with a mixture of residences and small shops. Colorful, bright, and full of greenery, something unfamiliar to him in this place save for the smog. He rounded a corner and then stopped, suddenly hit by the realization that something just felt off all of a sudden.

It started as simple blurred vision, Jayce shaking his head as he ducked further back away from the street. But then his head shuttered and his legs nearly buckled, his chest heaving as he used one hand to steady himself against the brick wall of one of the shops and the other to grip his throbbing head. He saw colors and shapes in flashes too fast and aggressively to make out clearly. And then he felt his stomach knot and churn before he found himself on his knees for the second time since he’d arrived, emptying the contents of his stomach into a nearby bush.

Panting as the clarity returned to his watering eyes and the breath in his lungs was restored, he stood shakily, steadying himself. He wasn’t a fan of whatever that had been. But it was over. He would continue.

Stepping back out onto the main path he did a double take. He’d found the address. In his stupor, he’d nearly walked right past it.

It didn’t stand out from the other buildings it was attached to, a little two-story thing with a raised stoop that made it apparent that it had a basement with a window well. At the top of the eves was a round window that hinted at the possibility of an attic, but it was hard to be sure from the exterior. The roof was a tarnished copper like many of the others on the road, but in a way that was ornamental instead of the result of a lack of upkeep. The verdigris contrasted the rest of the structure in a way that almost seemed deliberate, with red brick and metal ornamentation that almost reminded him of what one would expect in the more common districts of Piltover but with a slightly different flare. It was… Nice. Easily one of the coziest-looking buildings on the lane. Strange. It even felt like home.

Jayce wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find when he’d imagined where he’d choose to live in the Undercity, but this was a far cry better than what he’d had in mind. Nothing opulent, but to be fair, that had never been the case for any place he’d lived aside from the Kiramman Penthouse during his studies. He dug through his waistcoat pocket and produced a set of keys as he approached the door. There were a few on the ring, in fact. Something else to look into later. If he was there that long.

It took a few keys before he found the right one, but eventually, the door opened and he stepped across the threshold, immediately hit by the comforting warmth of the space. If the outside had been quaint and cozy, then the inside was nothing short of welcoming. Instantly, it felt like a place he’d like to stay in. An archway made in the same art nouveau style with just a sprinkle of art deco that the rest of the building’s exterior had been crafted in opened up into what seemed to be a living area of some sort. Just ahead of him was a staircase leading to the upper level. 

Even with the curtains partially drawn across the back window, he could see the wealth of plants in the back conservatory off to the side of the back of the building, accessible via the hallway that ran down past the staircase. An interesting choice. He’d never been the best at keeping those alive despite his best attempts. Perhaps they were specimens for some sort of study.

But as he considered this the same pain he’d felt in his skull returned from nowhere, only with no warning or build-up and with the vengeful spite of a curse set upon him by a wrathful god. He bumped into the wall as he dropped the papers he still carried onto a side table, nearly stumbling over it in the process as he reeled back and used both hands to clutch his aching head, digging his fingers into his scalp as though gouging through his flesh and excavating all the gray matter from his body was the only recourse from which he could hope to derive release.

Gasping soundlessly save for the sound of air parting ways with his lungs, he grounded himself as he clenched his eyes shut. It would pass. It had to. His worst moments always did for they were merely that: moments. He groaned shakily, panting like a shaking animal as his ears wrang, seeing only the flashes of color and fractal nonsense that were the hallmarks of the Arcane anomaly. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears and head as the ceaseless agony slowly subsided, pushing and pulling in tormenting waves until it became vaguely bearable again, coherence no longer simply a product of wishful yearning.

He didn’t hear the handle turn; he didn’t register the door swing open or the silence as it returned to the room. Jayce didn’t feel the presence of another person in the room with him whatsoever, so overtaken was he by the ordeal he’d just experienced. His ears felt like they’d never be useful again. And then he heard a voice. As clear as crystal. Like a chime ringing out in the utterly consuming darkness. He didn’t currently possess the faculties necessary to discern the topic of conversation, but he knew that voice anywhere.

Viktor.

(-~-)

After SEVERAL delays (sorry, everyone) chapter one is FINALLY out and I am over the moon. Seriously, I have so much that I want to do with this AU and so many little stories that I want to tell within it, so bear with me. Sometimes my brain just doesn't cooperate with my writing schedule, but the excitement is there, I promise. I want to know what you guys think! It’s been so long since I’ve started something like this. Was the writing okay?

I have a one-shot to write and then I’m going to start chapter two immediately so the plan is to get it out within the next day or two, if not sooner. Fingers crossed. Thanks again for checking this out! If you want to hear more I have info for the AU on my Bluesky and my Tumblr and they are both linked in my bio. I can provide links if you’d like them. Just let me know. I’d really like to know what you think of this so far. Do you want this to go in a more spicy direction in the future? Is that a no-go for you? I’m itching to hear your feedback. And I hope to see you in chapter 2. Take care and I’ll see you soon. Bye!

[bethanydelleman]

hi! I finished northanger abbey and do I have thoughts! I really liked it, I'd give it a solid 8.5!

you were right, catherine being a teen girl is relatable, but actually the most "relatable" character I think, is isabella. i genuinely gasped almost every time she spoke because I've met a few isabellas and austen really put it on page. every now and then I almost expected her to say "omg stop teasing meee" or steal James hat/hoodie. she gives me that *friend who leaves you alone at the club while you're drunk to flirt with some rando" vibes. kinda sad because at first she did seem a lesbian in love with catherine.

and john thorphe!! I'll admit he did scare me a bit a few times, him grabbing catherines arm to stop her from exiting the carriage was so creepy. and just like.. him trying so bad to remove her agency and turn her into his little doll. both of them are worse than wickham to me. not necessarily because of actions but like.. they just feel like people who'd be easier to meet irl if that makes sense?

i loved henry tilney so much, you low-key spilled when you said he was the best austen man, im sure. but i will forever be upset that austen didn't delve into his love confession/proposal like whyy.

but God did I love how foils are in this book, with the tilneys opposing the thorphes when it comes to relationships with catherine. her true soulmates!

honestly I kinda wished I'd read this one in my language because perhaps I would have understood the whole subtext re: general tilney better. but I did understand everything so it's fine.

also I have to defend my girl and say she's actually incredibly emotionally smart, she clocks the general and even isabella, she's just in denial for a good while, and james (way more experienced) is led on more than her so im annoyed by the dumb allegations i saw. she's 17 in 1800s leave her alone!

and I love eleanor obv!

alsoo this is kinda off topic but i soo think modern!henry would be a fashion student and modern!catherine would LOVE lisa frankestein! i just know she would. nd it would hit as a concept !

all this to say I really liked it, I'll start with sense and sensibility next! so excited cause I know it's about two sisters so it'll be like getting a book with jane and elizabeth pov! ty btw! your advice was spot on!

Firstly, congratulations on reading Northanger Abbey in your second language! That is impressive. And I'm so happy to hear you loved it.

Secondly, I totally agree about the Thorpes. They really feel like people you could meet today and both of them are so slimy. I think they inspire more genuine feelings of disgust than a more over-the-top villain like Wickham or Willoughby. And they are great foils for the Tilneys, all talk and no substance. The Tilneys are the real, genuine friends that Catherine will value forever.

Catherine does have good instincts. I really think the point is that she identified the evil in General Tilney, she just went a bit far with how that evil would express itself. Some people hate her and call her stupid, but I never would. She mostly got it right.

I hope you enjoy Sense & Sensibility just as much! Report back if you want.

[notawomanimagod]

Today I realised the reason I love Silco so much is because maybe I relate to him in an uncanny way? ( And that I unintentionally have a Silco+Jinx tattoo?)

Some backstory first

I'd gone to college with my childhood best friend/partner and we had a whole plan for our futures and I was a big dreamer. I got us into all the schools/opportunities we wanted to purely by planning a lot. By constantly making sure we had a way out. By keeping us moving. By being the one that put their head down and planned. They had fire initially, which made us bond, but later they sort of showed up and came along for the ride.

Our campus was on the outskirts of a city which coincidentally had a polluted river flowing through it, where dead bodies were found. The water contained so many chemicals, it foamed unnaturally and your skin could feel it.

We would sit on the shores of this river and plan how we'd make it out of here and move to a better place. How we'd break the cycle. How we'd live in a nice house, eat good food and simply live a peaceful life. Away from the violence and chaos of the families we came from.

But things started falling apart, and both of us had vastly different ideologies. We didn't fit like perfect puzzle pieces anymore.

After months of tension, an ongoing fight blew up to the extent they choked me and shoved me down while I clawed at them to get away.

I grew so bitter and felt so betrayed.

This was my best friend. Young, hopeful me considered them my other half in every sense. This was the person I grew up with, we'd gotten each other through so much trauma in our lives and we'd barely survived everything together.

We've both stopped each other from early deaths and yet, there they were, throwing our future away, while I tried my best to acquire it.

I always felt like I didn't resent them for abusing me, I hated them for giving up. On our dream, on our future.

Suddenly I was thrown away.

That dynamic felt eerily similar to Silco/Vander, down to the size difference.

Around that time the only way I knew how to cope was to imagine myself reborn. I became a new person, being betrayed changed me so fundamentally, I had to change.

I viewed everything as pre-incident and after. Pre-betrayal, post-betrayal.

My younger self had no means of understanding why I'd been left behind to rot. While they got a comfortable life. Got to keep our friends. They got the better end of the deal. They got everything.

And I was absolutely alone, isolated. Driven to the point of insanity by everything they'd done to me.

I swore to only trust in myself after that.

I got this tattoo to symbolise my "rebirth" and how to find strength solely in myself.

My younger self had a lot in common with Silco/Jinx and it's a funny coincidence that my tattoo ended up having both their motifs.

Anyways, I didn't understand how much of my own life I saw in Silco's until my brother pointed this out recently. But it helped me process some of the feelings I felt when I began to read more on Silco/Vander's dynamic and why I was drawn to it.

I have always been that dirty little thing, scraping it together and clawing my way out.

No wonder I loved Silco's Rebirth narrative. It truly is the realest arc anyone who experiences trauma/ abuse/betrayal goes through.

And now years later, even though I have a peaceful life, my own apartment, sometimes I get reminded of how I could be hurt and that little part of me that is always on the run comes back in ropes of rage. I need to be in control.I have tried to harden myself and yet, I am still soft. I would often think my caring for others was my biggest weakness, though now I treasure it.

No wonder I love this little rat man. I am what he is. (Down to the black hair and scribbling in journals and leather jackets and cigarettes and being fruity lmfaoo)

No wonder I absolutely love everything about his characterization in season one.

[eggrollforyou]

First Tattoo

Law x F!reader

CW: sfw, fluff and silliness

Summary: a (not so short- I swear I can't write anything short) blurb about reader being nervous for her first tattoo and asks Law to come to settle her nerves

A/N: thanks for this request @dreamcastgirl99 ! I had fun with it. Especially trying to incorporate the last lines. Every time I get a tattoo I hear it from the artists when I don't flinch 🤣 I hope you enjoy!! 💚

Your mind was made up, you had your tattoo design picked out, you had your appointment set up and suddenly, it was appointment day. Being your first tattoo you were SUPER nervous. It hurts right? It's gotta hurt. How bad does it hurt? Oh my God what am I doing? This is permanent. Do I really like the design we discussed? You think to yourself in rapid succession, biting your nails. Your face and chest feel hot. Your nerves are getting to you, quickly. “L-law?” You cry out, panic in your voice. He pokes his head into the room, “Hmm?” He says your name, “what's up?” his response laced with concern.

“I don't think I can do this. What if I regret this tattoo? It's stuck with me forever!” your voice on the verge of breaking. He chuckles, “It’ll be FINE! What you want is beautiful and you'll cherish it. It's just nerves. Want me to come with you for comfort?” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “Yes, please,” you whisper sheepishly, feeling slightly better knowing he'll be there with you.

You're on the island where you have your tattoo scheduled. Walking to the shop, you find yourself rambling- word vomit, when you're nervous. “They're going to disinfect the area, shave any hair, he'll put the stencil where you want it, and they just follow the stencil. It's really routine. You'll be fine,” Law attempts to reassure you for the umpteenth time. You shake your nerves out of your hands as you stand in front of the shop. “Ok. That sounds easy enough. Let's do this,” as Law presses a quick kiss on your temple.

“Alright, little lady. You ready to do this?” The tattoo artist has your tattoo stencil placed, he's got his gun, needle ready as he looks up at you from his chair. Your heart starts pounding again, you feel it like your heart will burst from your chest.

Hearing only the roar of your blood in your ears, you take a deep breath looking at Law. Your eyes are wide, you're trying to center yourself instead of panicking. He moves his chair next to you and grabs your hand, “You don't have to do this if you don't want to,” he whispers. “Will it hurt?” you ask with a slight tremble in your voice. As he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, you take another breath. “Well, yea. I mean it hurts like hell,” Law was never one to mince words, even with you, despite the softness he showed only to you.

He senses your unease and clears his throat “But the spot you picked isn't super sensitive. Plus, you're YOU. You're tough. I've seen you go toe to toe with the scrappiest pirates in dark, dingy, bars,” he winks. You chuckle with him, taking a breath, and nod at the tattoo artist, “I think I'm as ready as I'll ever be.” He presses the needle to start and you twinge in pain, trying your hardest to keep still. It's a strange sensation. Like your skin is being scraped and pinched at the same time. After about 30 seconds you realize This actually isn't as bad as I thought. I can handle this.

You look over at Law and he smiles at you, “See? Everything is fine, right?” He studies your face to gauge where you're at. You exhale a long forceful breath, “Yea, it's actually not as bad as I thought. It was the nerves making it worse,” you chuckle. After an hour and a half, your tattoo is done. The artist moves so you can check it out in the mirror leaning against the wall. “So? How do you like it?” The artist and Law both ask. Your heart skips at the sight and you shake your hands in excitement, “Oh my gosh, I LOVE it! And it barely even hurt!” Law scoffs, “Tch, barely hurt? What are you talking about?” The tattoo artist laughed, throwing his head back, “Women always handle the pain better than men.” You can't help but laugh when you see Law glaring daggers at the shop owner.

Tags: @shy-writer-999

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[cravinganotherworld]

Ilmarë - Annatar/Sauron x Fem! Elf! reader

Celebrimbors daughter (y/n) meets Annatar for the first time.

WARNINGS: Fluff, slightly anxiety but not too much. Just Fluff and soft Sauron!

NOTE: I am thinking of making this into a series, let me know if you think it'd be a good idea!

Watching the sun rise over Eregion has become (Y/N’s) favourite part of the day, watching the kingfishers fly to the river and the bees collect their pollen brought her a peace she had not known in an age. Her father Celebrimbor is the finest of all elven smiths, some would even say better than Feanor himself, but of course her father believes this to be nonsense. As his daughter, (Y/N) of course has expectations and a reputation to upkeep as the future Lady of Eregion. She is known across the elven realms as Ilmarë, an Elf of Starlight. The most beautiful to behold and most graceful in her actions. Upon hearing her name, the heart of any Elf warms, her kindness matches none and her love for all creatures surpasses her love of anything else.

It was late at night when she heard her father talking to a man in the forge, the voice is one she has never heard before so curiously she presses her ear to the door, she can only hear a few words like ‘friend’, ‘men’ and rings’ so she decides to give up and head to bed, perhaps she could speak to him tomorrow. As she walks away a luminous flash escapes from under the doors lighting up the hall which previously was only lit by candles. (Y/N) rushes over to the door and tries to pull it open thinking her father may be in danger but to no avail. The more she pulls the door, the brighter the light became. As she is about to call out to Celebrimbor, she hears a voice once more, different to the one before but almost certainly not belonging to her father, it is almost…angelic. The light begins to dim and a sense of relief washes over her. She tries the door once more to find it unlocked again. Confused, she gently pushes the door open and looks around to see her father standing before another. Both of their heads turn towards the door and a small gasp escapes (y/n’s) lips as her eyes connect with the strangers. Her heart begins to beat a little faster as she gets lost in the pools of green searching her soul. Their eyes only separate once Celebrimbor clears his throat.

“(Y/N) sweetheart what are you doing awake at this time of night?” Celebrimbor questions as he walks over to her.

“ I simply couldn’t sleep father, the sound of the river has fallen flat tonight” She replies, her gaze darting across to the stranger and back to her father as he takes her hands in his.

“Well, seeing as though you are here…let me introduce you to our guest” Celebrimbor takes her hand and pulls her across to the stranger. As they get closer, her legs begin to feel weak, and her heart once again quickens. Celebrimbor stops and turns you to face the stranger.

“I would like to introduce my daughter (y/n), known across the elven lands as – “

“Ilmarë” the stranger speaks as he looks at her, his voice smooth and gentle causing (y/n’s) cheeks to darken and her gaze falls to the floor. A hand rests under her chin pulling her head up, their eyes meeting once again.

“You need not be shy, I have heard of your talents…of your kindness and heart” he speaks softly, his hand still on her chin. A cough behind them causes their eyes to part once again.

“(y/n), this is Annatar…The Lord of Gifts, he is of the Valar themselves” (y/n’s) eyes widen, and she drops to her knees in front of him.

“Forgive me my lord…I did not know” a soft chuckle warms her heart.

“Rise  Ilmarë, I am your equal…no more…no less” As she stands, she loses her balance and wobbles on her feet slightly, feeling Annatars hands on her arms steadying her. “Careful now Ilmarë…it is not often stars fall” Her arms are left cold once his return to his side, Annatar turns to Celebrimbor.

“Our work begins now” Celebrimbor nods in delight and turns towards his daughter.

“(y/n) sweetheart, why don’t I walk you to your chambers, the night is late, perhaps a short walk will help you sleep easier?” (Y/N) nods her head and smiles gently.

“Of course, father…thank you” Celebrimbor smiles towards Annatar and takes (y/n’s) arm in his walking towards the door. Before they could walk any further, Annatar gently grabs (y/n’s) hand, and she turns to look at him.

“Goodnight Ilmarë” Annatar speaks softly, a gentle smile adorning his lips.

“Goodnight my lord” she bows her head respectfully and walks out of the door with her father, glancing back at Annatar once more.

[heavens-moonlight]

𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟳 : 𝗔𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛

𝟬𝟲 : 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦

Authors Note: It has seriously been so long but I've been gone to study as well as test for my boards and didn't want any distractions, but I’m back and more motivated than ever! Thank you so much for all the messages of concern (that I am now only getting around to seeing). This was originally supposed to go up a bit sooner but I thought it was too heavy to start 2025 off with so it's here now instead. Happy New Year to everyone and if you're still reading this story I hope you can excuse the time off in exchange for more frequent updates now that I actually have time to myself. As always, I'd love to hear what you think! Until next time ♡

Faint morning sunlight filters through the sheer white curtains, casting a muted glow in the room. The quiet murmur of the world you've grown accustomed to is now inaudible, muffled by the window's thick glass, separating illusion from reality.

In this hushed room, the oppressive silence adheres to you like second skin, suffocating you in the familiarity—and the loneliness. Even as the clock on the wall ticks away signaling the passage of time, it's not enough to drown out the feeling that it has long since stopped—stalled at a moment where nothing feels possible, where hope is just an echo of something impossible.

A sense of heaviness settles atop your body, aching as though it has been carrying the weight of far too many days for far too long.

Your eyelids flutter open languidly, the effort of rising from the darkness of sleep too much to take. For a moment, you sit still, staring at the tender rays filtering in, but it offers no warmth, only a pale reminder of things that once felt brighter.

Feeble shadows dance across the walls, reflecting off the surface of the floors.

In the dulled haze of the scattered sunbeams, the light is neither enough to pierce through the darkness of your dismal dreams nor your despairing reality.

The beautiful, soft, and serene sunlight doesn't touch your heart any longer, for even if it did, it wouldn't change a single thing.

It feels like a lie, that sunlight.

It promises warmth, but it doesn't deliver.

Your chin quivers and you bring your fingers to your face, rubbing your eyes in an effort to physically hold back the tears. Wanting to close your eyes for just a second, even that small release of tension only makes you more aware of the pressure in your chest.

Only when warm hands envelop your own to gently pull them away do you turn to its source.

Jun-Hee's brown eyes are the first thing you see and shielding your heart, you remain strong, holding his gaze.

It brings you comfort, but also trepidation, as you focus on his irises, a rich, deep hue contrasting that of the soulless, colorless shade of murky white imprinted in your subconscious.

Death was staring at you through his eyes in that vivid nightmare, and instead of running away, you had run toward it.

You both sit completely still in one another's presence for a couple more minutes before the familiar lump lodges its way in your throat the longer you look at him and circling through a million what-if's.

It's too much.

Too much to keep pretending that things will get better.

No longer being able to ground your thoughts or steady your breaths, your hands fall from his and you rise on shaky feet, walking in a non-linear line seeking escape.

The silence swells again and you step forward, feet carrying you toward the door, each movement mechanical.

There's no destination in mind, no plan. Just the thought that perhaps if you walk long enough, if you move far enough, you can outrun whatever's holding you here.

But deep down, you know that you won't.

You know that you can't.

As you pass a mirror hung up on the adjacent wall, you stop short in your tracks.

You swallow, then blink at your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizable to your own self, splatters of blood dotted across your visage and eyes devoid of hope.

It makes you physically hurt.

It makes you want to scream out loud.

Instead, you bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood and swipe at your own face, each pass more aggressive than the last.

No matter how hard you press, the streaks merely smear, yet refuse to disappear completely.

You wonder if this is how it will be once this is all over.

Try as you might, you can't imagine in the slightest ever being able to rid of the gruesome memories.

The tears.

The blood.

The deaths.

The world outside continues on, unchanged, while you remain stuck in this place, trapped in the moment between yesterday and tomorrow.

At the next raise of your hand, Jun-Hee winds his fingers around your wrist and tugs it down tenderly but still firmly enough that it brings you back to your senses.

The familiar rage and hurt bubble inside your chest and you force it down, bottling your emotions as you have always done.

Wordlessly, Jun-Hee throws open the room's door and drags you along on a path straight to the bathrooms.

He turns your shoulders, facing you away from the wall length mirrors, back pressed against the counter of sinks.

The light flickers overhead as you hang your head, silent sobs wracking your body. Jun-Hee stands in the doorway, heart twisting in his chest at the sight of you. For as long as he has known you, your strength had always been something he admired. But now, you were breaking, and he felt helpless.

"Seol-Hwa," he whispers, voice thick with emotion. "Please."

Your shoulders shudder as you look up, eyes swollen and red. The weight of everything you couldn't say crushes you, too heavy for words.

With determination, Jun-Hee crosses the threshold to stand in front of you, bending down to eye level and ever so gently reaching forward to cup your face in his hands. His touch is steady, even as he fears you would pull away hearing your breath hitch at the contact.

"Look at me," he murmurs, low and even. "I want you to see your reflection of yourself as I see you. Deflect all your pains, your worries, and your fears onto me. In my eyes, there is only you."

Tears make their descent down your face so you shakily inhale, trying to stop the streaming rivulets. Jun-Hee gingerly steps ever closer, thumbs brushing over your cheeks to trace the lines of every drop.

"I—I don't know how to fix it," you choke out, voice trembling. "No one can."

As your tears continue to fall unbidden, Jun-Hee sighs and reaches around you for a stack of paper towels, dampening them with cool water before softly wiping your face as if he were erasing the pain one swipe at a time.

Rather than pulling away or flinching, you surrender to the tender touch, breath slowing just a little with each movement. You can't help but to stare, the course of your nightmare haunting you even when awake.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's—" you pause, not knowing how to approach it. You decide if you didn't start, Jun-Hee wouldn't have to learn of the ending. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it has you like this."

You shake your head, lips pressed into a firm line.

"Was it a bad dream?"

Hesitantly, you nod, tears brimming on your waterline once more. "In it...you left." It was neither of your faults, yet the words come out laced with bitterness yet also chock-full of longing, of pain, and of regret. "You left...and I was all alone."

Jun-Hee pulls you into a tight hug, tucking your head beneath his chin. He didn't have answers. He couldn't make it disappear. But he could be here. He could hold you.

"Is that what you're afraid of?" One hand comes to nestle the back of your head, patting softly in reassurance. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Wrapping your arms around him, you rest your ear against his chest, finding solace in his beating heart signaling life, chambers of sound echoing your feelings for him.

"The future seems far too bleak to give us a choice to stay."

"In any circumstance, even if I had to leave, I would always come back to you, Seol- Hwa."

[ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ, ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ sᴋɪʟʟ. ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪ-sᴏᴏ, ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ, ᴡᴀs ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ᴀʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs, ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ. ]

The monotonous announcement drones on soporifically, seemingly mocking Yu-Jun's cries that nearly mask every single word like knives probing at the still-open wounds in his heart.

You can barely bring yourself to watch even after the others have left the scene one by one as Yu-Jun holds Ji-Soo's limp body in his arms behind the previously impenetrable door now split down the middle, a parallel to their parting.

"This can't be..." Yu-Jun intones in despair, shaking his girlfriend's shoulders to no avail. "I still need you here with me..."

Recognition comes at you in full force, causing you to stumble back, clutching at the doorframe in reliance as your head spins, the same exact words you had said to Jun-Hee in your nightmare reverberating in the dark recesses of your mind, echoing far too loud in the vicinity of the now empty hallway.

Sensing the movement, Yu-Jun glances over, a flash of surprise to see you still there, before it's gone and replaced by utter grief.

Pulling yourself together, you hesitantly approach. Even as you kneel down next to the two, you're met with no resistance nor reticence as you had expected.

"You don't have to stay. No one else did." Yu-Jun's voice is muffled as he pulls Ji-Soo ever closer, hunching over with his head against her own.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to," you emphasize.

At this, he looks up, confused. "I don't understand. I'm not someone who should be on the receiving end of kindness."

"That doesn't mean you deserve this," you gesture around, noticing somberly as his hands tighten, clutching at the fabric of Ji-Soo's now crinkled white shirt. "None of us do."

"Maybe I do." Yu-Jun stares straight forward at the wall, focusing on nothing. "Maybe this is karma for everything I've done wrong."

"We're people. Everyone makes mistakes. It's part of being human."

Yu-Jun chuckles darkly. "Tell me, what kind of mistake is this game then?"

"A fatal one."

There's a long stretch of silence between you two before he speaks up. "I'm sorry." You're taken aback by the sudden admission of regret, unable to hide your reaction. Yu-Jun clears his throat awkwardly before addressing you with sincerity. "My friend group, me included, haven't always been the nicest to you or yours and even though I knew it deep down, I never owned up to it. On behalf of them and myself, I want to apologize." His breaths come out ragged with so much still to convey between every intake of air. "In case—" he glances down again at Ji-Soo in his arms and brushes away stray strands of hair from her face. "—I don't get the chance to say the things I've saved to say."

"Do you have words that you regret never having said?"

"Three. Only three."

You can guess what it is without confirmation from the way Yu-Jun's lips quiver, eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Stay alive for her."

"I don't know if I can."

"You will," you respond with certainty, rising back on your feet.

"How are you so sure?"

"Are there not people you still want to save, including yourself?"

Realization finally makes its way onto his face. "H-How did you figure it out? T-That I'm a doctor?" The words come out in broken stutters.

You pull out your phone and turn it around, showing the resurrection screen. "It's hard to recognize those against you, but it's even harder to recognize those with you. We shouldn't let one another down."

Yu-Jun opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find the right words to say. "I feel as though I've already disappointed so many. A second chance is not something I deserve."

"Rather than saying you don't deserve things, prove that you do."

"Do you...not have any desire to reserve revival for yourself? "

"I could, but that defeats the whole purpose of this responsibility assigned to us in saving the innocent. Doctors place the needs of others before their own. Is that not what we are now?"

Yu-Jun's entire demeanor shifts from reluctant to resolute, from hopeless to hopeful. "I'll do my best so that no more sacrifices will be done in vain."

A faint smile adorns your face, acknowledging the partnership wordlessly. "Whatever happens, don't forget to protect yourself even as you're protecting the others."

Yu-Jun makes a sound of affirmation as you turn to leave. "Wait—"

You look back over your shoulder. "What is it?"

"You're a really good person, Seol-Hwa, just as Jun-Hee has always said. I see why he likes you so much."

Faltering, the corner of your lips imperceptibly curl downward. "We're best friends. He's obligated to say that."

"I don't think feelings are an obligation."

"Feelings never do well in a life or death situation."

"Do you have words that you regret never having said?" Yu-Jun uses your own verbatim against you.

Your eyes waver but you tamper down your emotions, refusing to let them show. "I had a dream last night where I said the words I've always wanted to say and Jun-Hee and I still wind up, over and over again, at only one ending sequence."

"And that ending is?"

Swiveling your head back around to hide the tears wanting to fall, you whisper quietly before walking away, "The same as your's."

Despite Yu-Jun declining to join, the rest reconvene in the deserted warehouse, as barren and cold as you were feeling.

Everyone is on edge, warily eyeing one another, no longer trying to hide the smallest ounce of suspicion.

Yoon-Seo speaks up next to you, words curt as she crosses her arms across her chest. "What's the reason for calling all of us down here?"

If it was possible, Kyung-Jun is even more patronizing, walking back and forth in the center with his head held high. Haughtily, he turns to the group. "Do you all not know or are you pretending not to?" He smirks. "Park Woo-Ram, that bastard, the one who deceived all of you was the Mafia. Just who was the only person to pinpoint that?" Throwing his hands up in a show of bravado, he motions for applause. "Me."

Solely, Seung-Bin claps, always one to grovel at his leader's feet. "Of course, it's no one else but you with the great hunch." His positive countenance morphs to one of disdain, transitioned so seamlessly, that it makes you wonder if he has ever displayed a genuine expression. "I can't say the same for you lot of Police. Whoever you all are, you could learn a thing or two from Kyung-Jun."

The person in question waves him off to the back and steps forward, hands in his pockets. "Hear that? If you want to catch the Mafia, do as I say."

Beside you, Jun-Hee deadpans, "Do what?"

"You'll take turns saying who you think is guilty and I'll pick for you."

Whispers grow amongst your classmates and you can sense the growing frustration directed at a single player.

Scoffing, Jun-Hee shakes his head in disbelief. "Who are you to decide? It's up to all of us."

"There's not enough collective intelligence for us to do that. Did you all forget how and why I nearly died last night? Who other than me is definitely a Citizen?" Kyung-Jun strides the length of the room as he scrutinizes everyone in turn, shaking his pointer finger in succession but ultimately drops it as he reaches you. Seeing your mien of indifference, he pivots back around, leaving his next words hanging in the air. "I think the rest of the Mafia members are hidden among those who voted for me yesterday."

"That doesn't mean anything," Na-Hee defends.

"Oh really?" Kyung-Jun whirls back around, fixating on Na-Hee and clucks his tongue at her. "On the contrary, it means everything. For the fact alone that you all sided with the opposition to rid of me. What clearer evidence is there?"

"How were we supposed to know?" Jun-Hee states clearly. "Don't judge based on one round where no one had the slightest clue."

"Then, what should I assess you on?" Kyung-Jun retorts. "Voting is the entire point of this game to figure out who's who."

"Your logic is shit if that's all you use to reason with," Jung-Won admonishes.

"You bitch—"

So-Mi cuts in abruptly, changing the topic of conversation for the time being. "What about Ji-Soo then? Why kill someone so randomly without the need to?"

"Who cares about intention when you yourself could die?"

Behind him, you can see Jin-Ha and Seung- Bin look at one another briefly, weary looks on their faces at Kyung-Jun's words, message loud and clear: Friendship amounts to nothing when it comes to survival.

Yeon-Woo timidly voices from the back. "So, Ji-Soo wasn't the Doctor then?"

"Read the notification carefully," Eun-Chan murmurs to his friend. "She was a Citizen, but that doesn't mean Yu-Jun is."

“Yesterday," Da-Bum adds, "the Police used their skill, so why didn't the Doctor?"

Mi-Na bites at her nails. "Right, because then Ji-Soo would still be here."

You catch sight of Yu-Jun outside through the metal bars across the window opening and once your eyes meet, he hangs his head in shame, walking away forlornly, no longer wanting to listen any further.

No one else notices the exchange and you breathe out on a long exhale, just as much guilty.

"Don't you all think it's weird?" So-Mi's question draws the interest of those next to her. "On the third floor, it was just Ji-Soo and Yu-Jun alone. How come only one of them made it out alive?"

Mi-Na looks over at So-Mi with a gasp. "Could Yu-Jun be a Mafia?"

"Damn," Jin-Ha intones. "If that's true, he really took his girlfriend's life."

In order to not compromise the chance of survival, although knowing that couldn't be farther from the truth especially after seeing the aftermath of the two, you bite down on your tongue to keep peace.

"She did always give him a hard time, what with telling him off and her short temper..." Yeon-Woo trails off.

"Enough of this useless talk that serves no real purpose in pressing matters." Despite the silent resistance, Kyung-Jun still mongers fear in the rest. "I'll single out someone as I see fit."

"How funny! He thinks he's actually in charge," Jung-Won mutters under her breath.

"This one." He spurns her and focuses on Jun-Hee, gesturing condescendingly. "You can tell when he did all that he could to safeguard Woo-Ram."

"Anyone would've done so to save someone who we thought would be a Citizen," you spit out. "Haven't we all been betrayed by someone we trusted?" Kyung-Jun's eyes slide over to yours, jaw clenched, not missing what you alluded to. "If it wasn't you against him, would you be able to say there wasn't even a one percent chance where you couldn't believe him?" His eyes don't leave yours, watching intently your effort at justification. "In the end, we're just victims of a killer."

"Seol-Hwa's right," Na-Hee agrees meekly. "We shouldn't vote just because of a wrong guess."

"Then, let's vote for the right guess this time: Jun-Hee."

"Don't you know about presuming innocence? Stop insisting when you don't have proof." You glare him down. "This isn't a witch hunt where we vote on the basis of who we dislike most."

Kyung-Jun steps toward you and you can feel Yoon-Seo grab your elbow to pull you back but you don't budge even as he bends down, tilting his head to the side, gazing steadfastly at you. "Do you have evidence then?" He fixes you with a challenging stare, reversing your words. "We can't defend based on who we like most."

"You want evidence?" He falters as you merely smile without any real happiness behind it. "I have it."

The hum of the old computer fan is the only sound in the small, dimly lit basement before the clicking of keys fills the silence, rhythmic, almost hypnotic.

Jung-Won's fingertips run across the keyboard, eyes locked on the screen, face bathed in the pale glow of the monitor. She wasn't aware of those standing behind her, too focused, too intent, to notice the interest of the rest, and the trepidation of yours.

"We can get the entire Mafia crew in one go if I manage to pull this off."

From the shadows of the basement, the sound of Seung-Bin's foot tapping repetitively against the floor echoes incessantly. "This is useless. Can't you work any faster than at the rate of a turtle?" His voice breaks the stillness of the room, laced with frustration.

"You're also useless. You have no right to speak," Jung-Won berates, tone sharp as she adds to the tension.

You see the screen flash and spring up from your seat next to Jun-Hee atop a half broken wooden bench discarded in the room. "Do you see anything?"

"I thought I would but..." Jung-Won spins in her chair to face you, "it's all deleted. The files are completely wiped—everything on the drive."

"That can't be." You refuse to even entertain the thought that someone else could've chanced upon this room, especially not after the weird circumstance in which you found it. "Look again." Grabbing Jung-Won's arm a bit too tightly, you urge her to scour the different file locations.

An uneasy silence hangs in the air as you both turn toward the computer once again. Your eyes bat nervously from folder to folder, trying to find something—anything—but the cursor only blinks in emptiness, mocking your desperation.

"It's not that," Jung-Won says aloud as she clicks around, clattering growing louder in defiance. "Any remaining content on here wasn't formatted properly from the start. Whoever had access to this in the first place made sure no else would after them. All traces are erased."

You can't answer right away. Jung-Won's gaze is fixed, but her fingers had slowed. The screen blinks once, twice, before the folder she'd been trying to open vanishes entirely.

A chill runs down your spine.

"It's not... it's not possible..." you whisper, words in tatters. You reach for the mouse but the screen flickers then blacks out entirely as a faint row of red text flashes in the corner.

Deleted: System Error.

The room goes deathly still.

You squeeze your eyes together tightly, stomach in knots and heart plummeting.

"Han Seol-Hwa," comes Jin-Ha's voice. "Were you trying to fool us all? Bring up nonexistent evidence? Nice team-play, Mafias."

"It's not like that! They knew of it beforehand. We're too late!" you shout back, knowing full well evading this accusation just became that much more difficult.

Jin-Ha is about to open his mouth again to reproach you, but one look from Kyung-Jun shuts him up immediately despite his growing displeasure at the newfound tandem. The latter studies you, gauging. "Are you doing this for yourself or for someone else? This whole thing was only brought up because I cornered Jun-Hee earlier."

"Let's calm down and consider the situation first." Yu-Jun sends you what he thinks is a look of support, but even in his encouragement, you can sense that worry outweighed it.

"Don't think you're off the hook either, girlfriend murderer," Kyung-Jun warns Yu-Jun.

"Did you, or did you not, know that this place would have bird's eye view of everything because you were planning to rid of evidence from the beginning?" Jin-Ha corrals you into another corner and you can sense Kyung-Jun holding himself back from going rouge on him.

Jung-Won is by your side in an instant, hands around your shoulders. "You're even dumber than you look."

"Yah!"

"If that was her intention, why would she willingly bring us all here? Unless you've been lobotomized, in what world would someone expose themselves if they're at fault?"

"Whatever," Kyung-Jun concludes, and you look away, expecting him to vote for you without doubt as his finger taps at his screen with finality. "My intuition has never been wrong."

Before the intercom can even announce his choice, Jin-Ha steps in between him and the door, eyes shifting from you to Kyung-Jun and back, equal parts in disbelief and anger. "Have you gone crazy? What are you doing?!"

Seung-Bin stands stunned, looking between the two.

"Didn't you two say that I had a great hunch a few moments ago and everyone should take note?" Kyung-Jun shoves Jin-Ha aside, the shorter of the two bumping into the wall with a thud before a finger is jabbed into the middle of his chest. "Get to learning, bastard."

"Aish shibal!"Jin-Ha curses after his leader's retreating back as Seung-Bin drags him along, the three exiting ultimately with unanimous votes, choices conformed to Kyung-Jun's.

As Mi-Na and Eun-Chan turn to leave as well, you grab at them in a rush. "I really am a Citizen." At their unconvinced looks, you double down. "I'll prove that I am. Please, at least give me until the end of today."

With their evidently remaining suspicions, Eun-Ha comes to your aid. "I trust her. If there's one person who I'm most certain is a Citizen, it has to be Seol-Hwa." She reaches out her hand and gives yours a light squeeze even as your own shakes against hers.

[ ɢᴏ ᴋʏᴜɴɢ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ sʜɪɴ sᴇᴜɴɢ-ʙɪɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊɪɴ-ʜᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

"I'll be able to restore a few files if I spend a bit more time familiarizing myself with this interface," Jung-Won declares resolutely and you, once again, feel guilty for harboring doubts against her. "I can at least promise this."

"Yes, guys," Na-Hee adds on. "We can vote before night falls once we've all calmed down and have more sound reasoning."

Da-Bum nods in agreement. "We'll know for sure by then. Let's not jump to a decision."

Eun-Ha nudges Mi-Na and Eun-Chan on either side of her, before turning around to motion at Yeon-Woo with her head. They all relent, albeit reluctantly, and as Eun-Ha follows them out of the room, she turns back to give you a half smile in silent support.

So-Mi merely smirks and leaves with everyone else aside from your immediate group, her steps light, your distress her happiness.

You plop back down on the bench and cover your face with your hands. "This is a disaster."

Hyun-Ho scoots in beside you and pats you on the head comfortingly.

"Don't give up just yet." Dong-Hyun fiddles around with the multiple outdated TV's on the opposite wall. "We won't either."

"Da-Bum," Jung-Won calls. "Did you by chance bring a laptop with you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I need all the help I can get. With your assistance, we should be able to regain lost footage at the earliest an hour before midnight."

"Is that possible? To restore everything?" Da-Bum questions.

"Of course not everything, but if we try our best, clips from the third floor hallway where the incident happened last night is completely doable." Jung-Won is entirely confident as she notifies the group chat while Da-Bum rushes off to get the additional device needed.

Their efforts on behalf of you warm your heart, yet deep down, you can't bring yourself to bask in the momentary peace.

Saving yourself will mean losing Jun-Hee.

The city lights on high above the rooftop cast a backdrop of white behind Jun-Hee, the stark contrast against his black hair like a shining halo.

When he turns to look at you, you can't find it in yourself to hold eye contact, instantly drowning anew in the visions of your nightmare, slipping beneath a blanket of white, the color of surrender.

You wrap your arms around yourself as the frigid night air bites against your skin, and noticing your shivering, Jun-Hee scoots in noticeably closer, pressed against your side in an attempt to offer warmth.

"Is it difficult for you?"

"What is?"

"Giving me your full support, trusting me— believing me without doubt."

Jun-Hee pulls your head onto his shoulder and leans his own against yours. "It's the opposite. You make it easy. I can entrust you with my life."

"Even if all the evidence is evading me?"

"Even then."

Closing your eyes, you let the rise and fall of his shoulder as he breathes calm you. "Why do you trust me so much?"

"I know the kind of person you are, and I know your heart."

"If everyone were to lose their trust in me, as long as you still believe in me, I don't need anything else."

"I'll always be by your side."

"It's weird," you begin. "Not once have I ever thought about my biggest fear, but every night since we have been here, the scent of death keeps lingering, both in my reality and subconscious. I can't rid of it."

"Anyone would say the same."

"Would you?"

"My only fear is that I won't be able to protect you until the end."

You raise your head only to find him already looking at you.

"Is it selfish of me to say that I'm scared? I know the possibility of making it out of here is close to none, but to imagine myself dying, I simply can't." Unabashed, you find yourself crying, tears falling down in twin trails against your cheeks. "I don't want to go like this."

"Who says you have to?" Jun-Hee's right hand cups the side of your face and with his thumb, he brushes away the teardrops cascading down, a mirrored reflection of the morning. "I would never let you die. Until my last breath, I'll make sure you're safe."

"You should always put yourself first, Jun- Hee."

Pulling his hand away from your face, he cradles both of your hands in between his and tightens his own around them.

"Don't you know that I would die for you?"

Shaking your head, you try to get him to rescind his words. "I'm not someone of importance you should sacrifice yourself for."

He smiles lightly. "To me, no one is more important than you—not even my own self."

Your breath catches in your throat and you swallow around the lump forming. "Promise me we'll go home together once this is all over."

Jun-Hee's eyes waver with uncertainty but ultimately nods. "I promise."

"You know it would never be home without you right?"

"Neither without you, Seol-Hwa."

"Then, you can never leave me here alone, if you aren't with me."

"How cute," Jun-Hee suddenly intones and you're taken aback at the fond way he says it. "You think it's possible for me to quit you." He slides off of the bench you two are sitting on, before kneeling down in front of you. From his pockets, he dangles a braided red string between his fingers as he looks up at you, the glimmer of stars reflecting in his eyes. "I wanted to give you this for our friendship anniversary but more than ever, there's no time like the present."

"You've kept this with you the whole time?"

Jun-Hee nods, fiddling with the thin strands to tie around your wrist. "I recently went to Jejudo with my parents and this really kind elderly craftsmen told me these can serve as wish bracelets, granting what the wearer most desires in their hearts." He rotates the woven strings around and you see a small white jade flower charm, its center hollowed-out, dangling from the middle. A snow flower. Your namesake. "The harabeoji said to me, with the brightest smile on his face, that I looked like I had a hidden wish but seemed far too skeptical for his liking. To my surprise, he gifted me with two and told me that sometimes, luck comes only once in a lifetime."

Grinning, he presses the textured string into your outstretched hand and you settle his forearm in your lap, wrapping the bracelet around the opposite wrist you were wearing yours on. His charm is the piece that completes yours, a simple solid sphere—a perfect match.

"I heard that until your wish comes true, the string shouldn't break prematurely, or it will never come to fruition."

"That's what the harabeoji reminded me of too, but I believe ours will be granted." "Do you really think that luck only comes once in a lifetime?"

"I don't know about that, but what I do know is that I must've used all my luck in order to meet someone like you." Jun-Hee runs his thumb over the inside of your wrist where the stone pendant rests against your pulse point, a line leading to your heart. "You're my once in a lifetime person, Seol- Hwa."

A few hours later and your unease has yet to settle, not even at the confirmation text from Jung-Won alerting to her success.

"I think it's safe to say that we'll have the most important of clues as evidence." After a final flurry of movements, Jung-Won stretches her fingers. "There. It's done." She points to the screen and those closest to her promptly swarm the monitor to see. "With the time limit I had, I was only able to bring back the film from yesterday, but that should be more than enough to figure out who entered the room where Yu-Jun and Ji-Soo were."

Before you even have the chance to breathe a sigh of reprieve, smoke starts rising from the console as sparks fly, only briefly at first and then heightening into a full blown flame.

Jun-Hee grabs the nearest fire extinguisher and douses the system unit, but all that remains in the fallout is charred metal. You stare at the black matter, the futility of it ridiculing.

Kyung-Jun touches the box only to recoil at the heat that singes his skin. It's beyond saving and he can only chuckle. "As if murder wasn't enough, you all want to add arson to your list of crimes too? Was this a ploy in hopes that we would all burn down? Is that it?"

"Guys—" Eun-Chan interjects, pointing a shaky finger at the monitor in the corner of the room everyone ignored up until now. "What the hell is that?!" At his question, the screen lights up with colored strips of static that steadies into clear footage, the pool coming into view.

Except, it isn't the only thing visible.

Long dark hair masks the face of an otherworldly figure standing eerily still in the middle of the scene, hands at her sides. For some inexplicable reason, you feel like you've seen her before.

"Seol-Hwa's right..." Na-Hee utters, panic-stricken. "There really is a ghost..."

At that, you suddenly remember the photo you still had in your possession. Drawing it out of your skirt pocket, you briskly extend it toward the group, directing them to focus on one particular individual. "I think... there's something other than us here. She— that apparition—must have something to do with the game."

"Stop with your nonsense," Jin-Ha chastises. "You all must've faked this video to rid of skepticism."

"You idiot," Jung-Won retorts. "Look at the live stamp. It's filming in real time. I know using your brain isn't something you tend to do, but at the very least, tell me your eyes work."

"Whatever this may be," you start, eyeing everyone in succession, "will you just simply go along with it and play the game until we all perish? What if you win? Do you think you can actually make it out of here alive?" Your voice rises, both in exasperation and resentment. "Is it possible for any of us to be the same afterward?" Shaking your head, you fix the rest with a steely glare. "Get a grip! If we find the correlation between every cryptic piece of information, we might finally be able to break free of this illusion."

Without waiting for a response or agreement, you dash off toward the pool, and as you arrive, to your astonishment, the rest ended up following.

Aside from your friend group, Eun-Ha, Na- Hee, and Yu-Jun, the remaining ones do nothing to help. While you search high and low for the right angle the footage could've been captured from—even a glimpse of a hidden camera—the clock ticks by, drawing ever nearer to the hour of death.

"Time's almost up," Kyung-Jun reminds. "Are you all abandoning the poll then?"

"How about we vote in a different way?" Jun-Hee suggests.

So-Mi runs one hand through her hair as she stands akimbo. "I know you mean well, but we don't have enough time to think of another plan. How are we to do it?"

Kyung-Jun casts her aside carelessly and she stumbles, sending him dirty looks from behind his back. "Do you think we're foolish enough to go along with your idea once again? After your last one nearly ended us all? What bullshit are you spewing now?"

"Listen to him first and then decide," Jung-Won reasons, and that settles it for the time being, her intelligence holding weight.

"We have sixteen votes between all of us, and the basis for execution is by the majority. So, why don't we divide the remaining votes equally?"

"Aren't you just trying to save yourself at this point?" Kyung-Jun questions. "You've already received three. Why not take one for the team?"

"I would gladly do it as a last resort."

Jung-Won steps in before pessimism calls for drastic measures. "If I understand this correctly, you want for us to try splitting our choices in order to force a tie?"

"Yes." Jun-Hee's validation draws both curious and concerned murmurs from the group. "If we do so, it will guarantee that all of us will vote without abstaining, and that one person won't be fixed as a target. It'll bypass all the rules we've learned of so far."

"But, who will be one the one to receive the other half of the votes?"

"I will."

"Are you out of your damn mind?!" Kyung-Jun outstretches his hand, almost as if to convince you otherwise, but withdraws when it occurs to him the setting, opting to clench it at his side instead, the vein on his neck visible even under the dim lights.

"Why?" you press. "You all suspected me from the get-go, did you not?" That stuns everyone into silence, unable to refute. "I won't blame anyone. This is my choice."

[ ᴊɪɴ ᴅᴀ-ʙᴜᴍ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴏʜ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴡᴏɴ. ]

[ ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ. ]

[ ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ. ]

[ ᴀʜɴ ɴᴀ-ʜᴇᴇ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ᴏʜ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴡᴏɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ʟᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴏɴ-sᴇᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴋɪᴍ ᴅᴏɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ᴊᴀɴɢ ʜʏᴜɴ-ʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴄʜᴀ ʏᴜ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ. ]

[ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ. ]

[ ᴄʜᴏɪ ᴍɪ-ɴᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ. ]

[ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ. ]

[ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ɴᴏᴡ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ. ]

Never has the stretch of sixty seconds felt so long as it did waiting for the follow-up announcement.

But, nothing comes.

Tears of happiness and shrieks of excitement ring through as everyone gathers into group hugs, exclaiming words of congratulations, but soon enough, the first flicker of red lights overhead remind you that it is too good to be true.

It is always too good to be true.

[ ᴀs ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ғɪᴠᴇ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs. ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ɪғ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴛɪᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]

Da-Bum's consternation only serves to intensify the collective panic as the lights dim into obscurity. "We can't just all die here!"

The blaring may drown out the screams, but the horrified looks on everyone's faces ceases to fade, guises set deeper by the shadows casted.

Kyung-Jun points a finger at Jun-Hee while taking steps backward, already set to flee. "I knew it! It should have ended with him!"

Eun-Chan's phone nearly drops out of his hold. "Only five of us should vote right? Aside from myself, Yeon-Woo, Mi-Na, and Yu-Jun are also included. Anyone else?"

"Jun-Hee needs to recast his vote too," Da- Bum recalls. "He voted for Jung-Won earlier."

Jun-Hee turns to you, uttering so lowly you can barely tell if he was talking to himself or to you. "That means you already received one less vote..."

“What do we do?!" Mi-Na cries out.

Without hesitation, So-Mi condemns you while looking you dead in the eyes.

"Kim So-Mi!" Jun-Hee shouts angrily, but it's already too late.

She strides toward you and chucks your phone straight into the very bottom of the pool before yanking the school photo out of your hand, your grip having already gone limp long ago.

Tearing it into shreds, she proceeds to fling it upward into the air above, the pieces raining down on you like joss paper they burn for the dead.

"I thought it was odd when she talked about things that didn't exist and dragged us into this mess. It was going to be her anyway. Just do it!"

"This isn't right and you know it!" Jung-Won pushes her away from you, but all you can do is stand stunned, the sirens resounding far too deafeningly in your ears.

"Fuck!" comes Seung-Bin's agitated voice. "Vote for anyone, godammit!"

"All of this happened because of me," Jun-Hee addresses the group. "Choose me... because I'm the Mafia."

Only then do you snap out of your reverie, turning to him with urgency. "What are you doing? Why are you saying something that isn't true!"

He slights you and barrels on, eyes lifeless and fixated aimlessly. Consequent words that fall from his lips are too toneless, too flat, and too run-of-the-mill, for it to be an admission—all it is is a rehearsed cover up act. "I tricked you into giving up your phones so that it would be impossible to win. Any footage left remaining, I also deleted. If we had the time, I could go on and on about the truths I have hidden and the lies I have told. All I wanted was to survive, but killing people to do so...I cant bear it anymore."

"So he confesses in the end." Kyung-Jun scoffs. "It seems I'm right again."

Disregarding your surroundings, you move toward Jun-Hee and clutch at his hand, the warmth from earlier on the rooftop having dissipated. "I can't let you do this!" you sob out, choking over your words before they can even form. "If you're doing this to protect me, then break the promise you made to yourself. Break it over and over again. I'd trade it all, including myself, to keep you, please..."

It finally dawns on you that in exchange for not smashing the promise into a thousand pieces, your heart is the one that's shattered into a million pieces.

Jun-Hee at long last slides his eyes over to yours, and through your haze of tears, you can see him holding his own back from falling.

You hide your hurt, your disappointment, and your heartbreak, and he pretends he doesn't notice.

His eyes trail over every feature of your face, etching it into memory, and you feel your heart strings snap one by one as he looks at you like it's the last time he ever will.

"You promised! That you would be here for as long as I need you. I still need you, Jun-Hee..."

[ ᴄʜᴏɪ ᴍɪ-ɴᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

Pounding footsteps grow fainter and fainter as the others run to safety, leaving everything else behind thoughtlessly.

[ ɴᴀᴍ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴄʜᴀ ʏᴜ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ. ]

[ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇᴅ, ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]

Against the growing distance, you hold on until you can't anymore, until Jun-Hee's fingertips are no longer with reach, slipping away from you.

As you get pulled farther and farther away, the jade stone charm dangles in your peripheral vision and you make a wish.

One last chance at a saving grace.

Please, always come back to me.

When your tears distort the image of Jun-Hee in front of you, all you can feel is the bracelet still wound around your wrist, colored like the red string of fate, tethering you to him.

You cling to the string that feels like it's unwinding, holding on to the millions of fraying threads stretched between you two, keeping it from severing.

Gradually, he wanes from view and all that's left is a carmine inferno in your vision.

Perhaps that harabeoji was right after all.

Luck does only come once in a lifetime.

And that, is the greatest misfortune of all.

𝟬𝟲 : 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦

[ Taglist ] @ennycutie @mona643 @sheplut0 @porapibbang

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟’ 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

[frenchkanna1808]

Why chapter 3 was a enormous let down and the possible negative impact it might have on the rest of the game

I remember after finishing chapter three one how exicted I was, how deeply impressed I was with the banquet and the qtaro development. And I mean I wasn't the only one, again and again I had seen so much praise about chapter three and how awesome it was. How great midori was as a villain (my like idk how many words analysis about him is very much explicit of that), How amazing qtaro development was, and mainly how great the banquet was, and I had seen the claim around that 3-1 was as great or even better than 2-2. And so I had decided after the hype fell down a little to play yttd again with friends, and that when I realized, god , wait, chapter three is like, extremely mid. I played the entire chapter 1a and it only got to the heights of 1b. I at first couldn’t tell what was wrong with the game, why did it feel so disappointing? And after a while I have finally looked back at the chapter, and yes this chapter is not only extremely lackluster but also a very bad prediction for the future of yttd if 3-2 is written the same. So here in this long french analysis I will discuss the main problem of chapter three the absolute shit characterization of almost all the characters. But also the destruction of emotion route and the crazy pacing

Hi like always, I’m frenchgremlim, I’m the french kanna fan I write stupid essays on yttd from time to time, this one will be compared to some of my others quite negative. But I will try as hard as possible to be an objective critic. This isnt meant to attack any fan of any character no any fan of yttd 3-2, I just want to discuss a possible problem in yttd writing that personally scares me for the future, this topic was one I brought up a lot in many post, if you have seen any of them then well you will already know some of my grievances with chapter 3. So with all my love thank you for reading this, lets start!

THE GOOD STUFF

Chapter Three 1 definitely has many great points. First off, the plot progression is pretty great, we get ton of infos on asunaro, on ways to escape and clues about the hades incident. Midori was a blast and bullying him became my favorite pastime. The dummies were an amazing concept (remember the word concept it will be important for the rest). Despite me disliking ranmaru deepy his development was interresting. THE QTARO DEVELOPMENT WAS CRAZY GOOD, for the first time I got to be justified for being a qtaro fan since chapter 2. Keiji had ton of development in this chapter??? that is very rare considering how much of a stable character he is troughout the game, his relationship with sara is really highlighted and I think thats great. Gin stays the most consistent character in yttd and despite normally being something I dislike in a game I think it makes sense considering gin is pretty much sara anchor in reality in both routes. The obstructors were an amazing idea and I think, adding new mechanics like that truly freshen up the game. Also shin ai is litteraly one of the best idea ever and maple too. And of course the banquet was a thrilling nerve wrecking experience with so many twist and turns that truly got your blood pumping……. Thats my praise for chapter three, the thing that doesn’t make it outright bad but correct. See how I mentioned a few characters by name, but not all, you can pretty much count any of the other either barely present or useless to the narrative. Which will lead me to my first point, the absolute character waste that genuinely every single yttd character going from the least worst to the worst (if you know me you know who will be last).

AN ENSEMBLE CAST IS AN ENSEMBLE NOT SARA AND HER MINIONS NANKIDAI

MAI AND KURUMADA

okay so I will start with them because funny enough new characters have better characterization, than actual character we knew since chapter 1. If I had a word to describe both ami and kurumada it would be good but lacking. Let’s start with mai, I think mai concept of her starting has a sort of traitor and then becoming a true ally is very good, same for kurumada startinga s a heartless asshole only caring about himself to him literally on the ground crying that keiji doesn’t cause the doom of the other dummies. Overall Mai and Kurumada have the strongest character out of all the dumies and are truly multi layered characters. Mai is depicted as a fake idol like girl who hides herself behing the pop like smilling persona (inverse of shin) to hide the fact that she is terrified but can also be a cunning manipulative person too. She truly wants the best for others but is terrified that she might die and would do anything to survive. Kurumada is a brute, he acts like a bully toward the others, act heartless and values himself over others, he has a sort of superiority complex and rejects affection. But trough the power of the bucket, kurumada starts to warm up, and he starts truly caring about the others. He starts devaluing his life after getting destroyed by maple. But in the end he was the only one of the surviving dummies wishing not to be brought back but avenged. Both have interesting dynamic with their pairs and overall importance on the narrative, something that can’t be said about all dummies. Why lacking then. I think kurumada and mai still suffer from what I will call the dummies problem, they feel like there is so much like missed potential its crazy. Seriously we had like one scene where kurumada learns to warm up to kanna, thats it, it feels like we had the basics but it was very rushed. Which is a shame considering THIS IS THE THING THAT MAKES KURUMADA CHANGE AS A PERSON. Mai has less of this problem I think, but still she has no relationship with like anyone in the group except qtaro ( I still think in logic route we should have had the obvious parralele between her actions and like keiji/shin actions it feels like wasted potential) But again this is a flaw that is ommitable since reminder the characters are well written despite being rushed. What isnt forgivable is that kurumada has no relationship at all with shin in logic route, its clear that nankidai envisioned emotion route kurumada before logic route kurumada. Overall I think the pairing system was terribly done for some characters, which is apart of the overrall dummies syndrome.

But lets take a look at the other dummies where my praise will quickly end.

ANZU AND HAYASAKA:

I am deeply sorry for anyone who is a fan of those characters, but I need to be objective, anzu and hayasaka are the most nonexistent characters in yttd. I complain about the lack of kanna content, but the absolute uselessness of those two is crazy disappointing. Remember how I described mai and kurumada, full rich descriptions, what is anzu character. She is a dumb clown girl, thats it there is nothing more. And the problem isnt that she is a simple character on paper, because for example mishima is quite a simple character, its how nankidai decided to utilize them. Lets start with anzu because I think she shows off well the problem, what does anzu do during the narrative, when is she useful, not even like talking about like puzzles or stuff like that kanna also doesn’t help that much, I mean overrall, what is the goal of this character. A character can be a bit flater personaility wise but he has to HAVE A REASON TO EXIST EXCEPT FILLING IN THE BLANKS.

Why was she paired with the yabusames, because reminder all the dummies were paired with a human for a reason, sara with ranmaru because of joe, keiji and hinako because they are edgy emo dyed hair dodgy person, kurumada with greenbling because he has one of the highest percentages while they have some of the lowest, hayasaka because he is similar to mishima with gin. Anzu was paired up with the yabusame, because she had to be paired up with someone, she has NO relationship with them, isnt a contrast isnt anything. My problem with anzu is that she is a a boring character because they did NOTHING WITH HER, she feels like an C rated anime girl in the fucking cast of death note. And no I’m not saying a nice person is boring not at all kanna is my favourite character of fiction, what I’m saying Is that creating just a nice girl is a problem. If we go to hayasaka its the same, which is even worse because hayasaka IS TIED TO THE NARRATIVE. I would say haysaka is more plot interresting but his personality is so boring that it doesn’t help at all. He is just clone non chad mishima. They can die and it will genuinely almost affect nothing at all(which is also a problem the death problem). You get surprised when they actually talk because you had forgotten they existed. Thats how I will define the dummies problem, it feels like the characters were added but had very limited impact in the end, because while it makes sense for asunaro it doesn’t make sense for the cast, why add characters if they have no meaning, thats just bad writing.And why does that piss me off, because you could have done so much more. Remember the mishima comparaison? Mishima is the most good guy ever made but how does he shine, by his interractions, he is a light of joy and good and shines from how kind he is towards others. He’s a bit silly but his unwaring kindness and undertsanding is what makes him a compelling character. Especially I contrast with brooding characters in the cast. ANZU COULD HAVE BEEN THAT. I think especially in logic route, anzu isnt the brightest light bulb, but she can shine in her unwaring compassion, her passion is making others laugh as a clown. While she isnt the best and can sound awkard she tries her best for others, because thats whats right to do, despite how much she is scared. After keiji gets coffined, anzu goes to see keiji in the coffin and tries to cheer him up with the worst joke ever and it makes him truly laughs from how bad it is. Reko see nao painting and gets depressed about it,feeling like she was able to save nobody whether her brother or lover, anzu decides to show her some epic clown skills and absolutely fails, reko laughs finding the kiddo endearing. After alice discovers that midori had hanged out with reko, he wants to destroy him and get filled with rage but anzu tells him to do the breathing exercises she used to do before any performance. Anzu could be used as this idea of childlike kindness a little light in the dark of the group especially in logic route. She can still be a fail girl clown make her bicker with kurumada more, make her be so impressed by how calm mai is, make her despize ranmaru in logic route, make her a dumb kid with tehir cool aunt/uncle with the yabusames. MAKE HER EXIST. SAME FOR HAYASAKA, hayasaka is supposed to be a straight man type character make him even more of a loser, make him silently judge the crazy ass people he is with, do his development litteraly not Five minutes before his death. A character being simple isnt a problem, what is a problem is not using them to their fullest, and for me in the state that they are in currently anzu and hayasaka are bad characters in term of the narrative.

SHIN

Okay so shin isnt a character in chapter three, he’s just there, I’m putting that low because he is a main character. The problem with shin being a bot, is that we just left one of the craziest chapters for him to do nothing, I understand him being stunned by midori and stuff. But I still think this is quite a letdown, especially for the obvious parralels between him and maple almost never being utilized. You can tell nankidai didn’t have the time or want to do much with the guy, which is bonkers considering THIS IS THE CHAPTER WE MEET HIS ABUSER. Then why isnt shin lower? Because shin is the type of character to have development throughout the story, who has a continuous storyline etc, which means that even though he didn’t get anything special this chapter next chapter he will get it. Its not a case of actual waste of character ,its more so, putting the character in the drawer for now. I am not scared for shin writing because he will always get something and always had something. Which makes is non importance in chapter 3-1 not that bad

KANNA

OKAY SO I WILL TRY TO NOT BE BIASED. Kanna characterization disappointing me In 3-1. As the biggest kanna fan, I think nankidai doesn’t care that much about her character as an actual protagonist. This one will be a bit longer but to explain why it was bad I need to do some sidenotes.

Sara is the protagonist of yttd, and keiji and gin are deutarogonist (idk how its written forgive me I’m french, please tell me if its badly written). Sara throughout the story goes trough many changes and developments, while characters like gin and keiji stay pretty much the same the whole story before 3-1. Sara main development is her living with the grief of losing joe and her importance in the group. While keiji is this morally grey, in the end bad person because of his actions guy, that still deeply cares and wants the best for sara, but what he does for her like putting so much responsibility isnt good for her in the end, it creates this codependent dynamic where keiji wishes to protect sara but in the teaches her how to be like him despite him wishing the inverse. Is keiji a good influence? A bad one ? I would say a bad one, but does he care for her? He sures do, and would do anything to protect her. Why am I going a tangent you might say, because shin and kanna are the mirror to keiji and sara. They are in the end the same. Kanna is a direct parralel to sara story wise, which is why I think if the story was twisted the point of view would be either shin or kanna. Kanna is the emotional core of the game, the soul I would say even, her development has a character is the deepest and most complex. Going trough hell, wishing to die to then deciding to live not herself yet but for the people that loved her, Kanna went trough some of the worst events out of the cast, litteraly everyone she even remotely liked or was friends with dies. And yet she decided to stand, for them, for their wishes, that makes kanna the most emotionally strong character in all of yttd. Because compared to sara she had almost no help and was left to her suicidal tendencies. Kanna represents hope and bravery in its purest sense. Thats why kanna is the soul of yttd, she litteraly made shin realised that he could care about others again. But despite all of that kanna was always in the shadow of someone, lacking self worth and self confidence feeling the need to be protected by others, hiding behind shin schemes despite how dodgy they were. Shin was her shield, and now he is gone, and kanna has never been more alone than now. Two people died for her, she hates herself and wishes to go seem them deeply, but she has to stand up for them. And what do we get for chapter three!!!! One scene. Thats fucking it. Okay maybe a little bit more but like god its bad. Kanna is implied in one scene that she doesn’t understand why shin would sacrifice himself for her, which implies that she doesn’t understand that people could love her, which could imply that in general she doesn’t get why either kugie or shin did this for her. COOL ONE IMPLICATION. And like if you read the scene where she says that she will like be epic for them, its implied that kanna doesn’t feel better and is still very much suicidal she still hates herself, kanna doesn’t think she can live, but she has to survive for them. Kanna is implied to be in survival mode more than having hope to be outside. OKAY COOL.

Now I have a question, why does for kanna we have to acively search for her to have any actual development and like relevance, while for other character its more laid out. Why does sara get a scene where we see her change mentality after seeing the joe ai, while kanna GETS OFF SCREEN DEVELOPMENT. IF THERE IS ANYTHING I HATE ITS OFF SCREEN DEVELOPMENT. WE SHOULDN'T HAVE TO GUESS A REASON A CHARACTER CHANGED. Plus kanna is a victim of this almost all the time, which is why people call her flat or not as interesting as shin (I heavily disagree I could write so many pages about her). Kanna is a character which is made in subtlety, which isnt a problem, what is a problem is that she is perhaps the only one. Kanna like I said is a very important character for both routes and yet she is barely treaten has a main protagonist, she is a sidekick, and thats a problem. Because of that her individuality and complexities are not explored. For example I think kanna has many many actual flaws that are barely treated in the narrative, she is far from a perfect kind person, but never tackled on. Kanna is a character that not only never gets a W but also get no breathing room. THIS IS THE FIRST CHAPTER KANNA IS MORE PROACTIVE AND YET WE DONT SEE HOW HER. Yes there is some things that show that, but again its not protagonist level of development, it feels like non important side character development for a character that shouldn’t be that. Kanna SHOULD be a protagonist of yttd, and should get finally her chance to shine instead of always being in someone shadow. I not making pessimistic claims right now since the last chapter isnt out, but I’m very much not hopeful about how nankidai will handle her #challengewriteafemalecharacterwiththesamerespecthasamaleone.

ALICE AND REKO

I Have already written many post about this, but post chapter 2-1, Nankidai had no idea what to do with yabusames, they havent had any actual interresting impact except from lore in any chapter. They become background character especially after nao death. Despite being actual game changing choice, alice and reko are useless to the narrative. WHY? Because nankidai had decided to get them killed by sheep boy, and since nankidai clearly wrote emotion route before logic route, in emotion route he had no idea what to do with them so the became npc’s. Alice relaionship with cast has not evolved from chapter 1, and reko became just one of sara goons. I think this ties into another problem, the emotion route problem, what should make emotion route compelling the character which is supposed to represent it, kanna and the emotion route based choices, but since kanna and the other yabusame gets zero content, emotion route seems like the least interesting route. Because nankidai was more lazy doing it which is a clear problem. That affects the yabusame heavily, sicne he had no plans with them past death. Thats why they are static. Its also linked to another problem which I will mention later. But yes nankidai simply doesn’t know what to do with them, which is especially worst for alice a character that is LINKED TO THE ENTIRE CHAPTER. I think its not only a waste of alice and reko, but also a sign of favoritism. I think nankidai simply cares less about complex ideas for emotion route, I will perhaps write in another post all he could have written interesting for emotion route. Now lets get into THE REAL STINKER OF THE CHAPTER.

NAO EGOKORO: HOW TO MESS UP THE MESSAGE OF CHARACTER

What. The. Actual.shit. I have no words except from that. This out of every charcater bothers me probably the most and actively pisses me off. Imagine writing a character, a female character who was shown as capable and strong despite being an emotional person, imagine creating a character which showed the defiance of asunaro, the fact that yes despite their overwhelming sense of control and power, that there was in fact a way to beat them at their games, imagine writing a character that fought against adversity and had the only canonical route where despite all their wishes that character won, imagine creating a character with a doomed fate which is in direct parallel to another character and shows why he somewhat has the right to be scarred, imagine writing a tragic story about a girl who was only brought here to suffer and be a tool for the progression of A MAN in the canonical narrative, imagine writing a character who entire existence was a tool for asunaro and died because of them, imagine writing that the floormasters consider her useless and non important because she isnt some holy participants, imagine writing that. Okay so imagine that after this poignant ending you decide to do another chapter where you mention her 1 time in a non essential dialogue. THIS IS INSULTING. Because what this honestly says is that, yes nao life truly was unimportant, we get references to greenbling death in the chapter, NAO DIED LIKE THREE HOURS AGO. THIS MESSES UP THE ENTIRE MESSAGE.

This feels like nao was some kind of rug, that when not needed could be trhown out, was her death just shock value, was that the goal of her character. I wanna remind that yes nao was only brought to boost mishima percentages, which mean she was only a tool for another man progression. THERE IS SO MUCH META POSSIBLE COMMENTARY ON THIS. Asunaro who uses children and women as toys for their own goals, that they will throw out when not needed. But instead the fact that nao was completely forgotten just deepens this idea that yes in fact they were right, she was unimportant, and thst deeply isulting I think. Why does every chapter mishima comes back while we get no mention of nao. Why is there a clear focus in this game about more stereo typically strong stoic figures, isn't this entire game about the conflict between emotion and logic. Why does characters like kanna and nao representations of the conflict get zero content. Characters like kanna and nao MATTER, they are perhaps some of the only representation of empowerment that people like me can relate. Because I will be truthful, logic route is in fact not the good choice, not in narrative standpoint (logic route is awesome for the narrative for sure), in a moral standpoint, its an extremely good idea of course. But the message of the game is that in the end its wrong, it’s a wrong choice to act or pretend to be an emotionless logic based robot, keiji is in the wrong, shin is in the wrong, midori is in the wrong. Whats the point of a moral dilemma if you don’t talk about it from one side. THEN WHY DOES THE CHARACTERS THAT REPRESENT THE INVERSE GET ZERO CONTENT. I think nao disappearance is not only one of the most disappointing things in all of yttd but genuinely gets me scared for the future of yttd themes.

Now that we finished every character, you may wonder, why, why is this chapter characterization so bad? What even happened? Ill tell you what happened, there is two reason everything went to shit and let me list it here:

THE SARA PROBLEM OR WHY THIS CHAPTER PLOT FOCUS IS ASS .

YTTD chapter three was way more plot focused than any of the chapters I would say, and honestly thats great for the narrative, if only it was done well. Remember my speeches about the characters about how like 60% of the cast is useless to the narrative, characters we know since a while, why do characters have no development, why does the dummies gets jack shit to do etc. Thats because of one thing, this chapter prioritized PLOT over CHARACTERS. And how can I claim this, because most scenes are sara and her doing everything. This chapter wasn't really about her, at all even, yet we have focused more on her reactions to the events that literally any characters. Chapter three at least half of it shouldn't have been sara focused. You might say what are you on about french? I’m gonna explain. I wanna state some example to show my point clearer, the reveal of why non candidates were brought here, why, in the flipping heck is sara the charcter in particular they choose to only know that, to have the big emotional scene, why especially in logic route, why?????? Yes she knew nao, sure thing, yeah she knew kai, but she wasn't the only person that knew them, sara didn’t even like mention nao almost the whole chapter, you want me to buy some emotional ass scene, for a charcter you barely even cared about showing in the narrative. I could think of a million characters who knwing this would flip out and have ACTUAL CHARACTER MOMENTS (kanna, reko, shin when he would learn that they brought kugie only to die which in the end CAUSED KANNA TO BECOME SUICIDAL AND DECIDE TO KILL HERSELF, GIN).

Another example the final scene where sara presses the button to get rid of midori that scene feels so empty, it doesn’t feel like a revenge or anything, midori has no emotional connection or link to sara, it doesn’t feel deserved, why out of everyone of the cast, why is midori getting killed by the person who he hurted the least. It feels like yeah sara the protag so she has to do it, it doesn’t feel cathartic because the characters that deserved the most to get this final bow didn’t get to get it. IM PRETTY SURE ANYONE IN THE ROOM COULD HAVE PRESSED THE BUTTON AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN MORE EMOTIONALLY DRIVEN. I wanna discuss emotion route sara in particular, sara isnt as interresting as before in emotion route, since now she is healing and is closing her arc, which means that compared to logic route you don’t really have this want to see her arc which make scenes that should have been about other characters feel even more flat. I am not saying we should stop having sara as a protag no no of course, my problem is that we have seen that sara can work as the protag while focusing on other characters drama.

Example chapter 2-1, in 2-1 the focus is on reko and alice, and yet sara still has conflicts for herself, but they don’t seem to overpower the narrative. This intense sara focus destroyed the other characters screen time, and caused a lot of scenes that should hav been more impact to be less impact. Sara story in emotion route should have been the keiji stuff an ranmaru stuff mainly(and the whole logic route sara becoming crazy stuff too), the whole conflict with midori just felt like it was created only for the narrative. NOW I CAN FINNALY COME TO MY POINT. The sara focus was because yttd decided to focus more on the plot progression that character driven story, thats why sara does everything, thats why the characters have overall less to do. And imma be honest I did not come for yttd for the plot, people love yttd because of THE CHARACTERS, why do people play logic route, because they want to see shin evolve and sara too, why do people save kanna to fullfill shin wishes and save a kid they care for, what most people play yttd for is not the plot. YTTD IS A CHARACTERS DRIVEN STORY, characters not character. I genuinely don’t give a flying fuck about the plot if the characters are non existant, a bad plot can be carried by good characters, but a good plot will never carry bad characters. I know we are getting closer to the end, but yttd always had that balance between action and character moments. But I don’t think its only the direction of the story that is faulty. ITS the:

PACING

YTTD CHAPTER THREE PACING, wow we met this new guy midori, WTF REKO DEAD, anyway who cares lets move on. Thats it thats the pacing. THE CHAPTER IS WA TOO FAST. We go trough plot points so quiclky, we randmoly see reko/alice die then nothing, they don’t exist anymore, characters the cast know since the beginning, again for the dummies its logical, in a way, they don’t really know them, plus they are robots. RANDOM AHH REVEAL KANNA AND SHIN ARE ACTUAL SIBLINGS THEN NOTHING, NO MENTION, NO ACTUAL IMPORTANCE TO THE ROUTE, this only felt like this was added in for plot for logic route so that we know in advance that shin and kanna are siblings. The dummies just die at the end of the chapter in five minutes, qtaro dies in five minutes then the chapter ends. How do you want us to feel emotional weight for a character dying if you give us no time, joe death is one of the most viceral death because its slow and painful to watch, while if he died in chpater three he would have just exploed for shock value. Shock value thats how reko and alice death felt like, just that. Sara figuring out the whole participant thing, shock value thats it. The pacing is just horrible in this chapter so much so that I had actually forgotten kanna and shin were revealed to be siblings at the end of my first playtrough

CONCLUSION

I don’t think chapter three was bad per say, half of it was amazing truly, but the other half was incredibly disappointing, the whack characterization, the horrible plot focus and the pacing are terrible. Emotion route suffered the most because of this and I think on an objective standpoint is the worst written route (i’m the biggest emotion route glazer but like I can’t lie on how bad nankidai fumbled). I still love yttd and am full of hope that chapter three two will be the most amazing thing ever made, but I am scared of dissapointement now, I hope nankidai comes back to his roots wirting like chapter 2. If you like loved chapter 3-1 then honestly I wish I was you, I don’t like being dissapointed, I don’t like being let down, I am not critiquing from a place of hatred but from a very passionate fan, I know my opinion is pehaps not one of the most shared but as a fan of yttd for so many years I think we need to open our eyes to flaws. Perhap chapter 3-2 will fix everything I say and I hope so, I hope this post becomes outdated, but if it doesn’t then it would in my eyes truly ruin yttd. It won’t change chapter 2-2 changed my life and that kanna kizuchi saved me from a lot of dark times.I love yttd and i belive in nankidai and that why as a fan we shoudl critic his work