#if my dissolution even WORKED in the first place

[svbhuman]

idk man. i should be humble and whatnot but i have to defend myself

[jackce]

I was commissioned by a mysterious person to work on 6 Prussia themed months 🖤🤍🖤 First is February was inspired by Valentines day ofc, but the main focus is Prussia's dissolution 😭 (That's a funeral flower arrangement, he's a prisoner after WW II and has just been informed of his fate) I wrote an small one shot in case you want to read it, it's Prussia's POV (English first / Español al final):

FEBRUARY

— The celebration is not on time, true, but you still have to look presentable.

I didn't ask what was so special about celebrating Valentine's Day on the 25th, in the Soviet Union they don't even celebrate that date, they said it's because it is a capitalist invention, but if you ask me, I think it's because they don't understand what love is.

Is not like I wasn't curious while they cut my hair the way it was when I arrived, while they shaved my beard and handed me a suit that could barely hide the kilos I've lost. But I learned the hard way not to open my mouth too much, something that I'm sure everyone who knows me would have wanted impossible. Ivan is miraculous, I suppose.

— You'll receive the visit you've been waiting for, see? I'm not as bad as you think — Still, Russia seemed eager to pique my curiosity.

"He's playing with me," I tried to convince myself. But when I mentioned it to Ukraine after she brought the first decent meal in years to my cell, she reacted with joy.

— It's your brother for sure!

She doesn't know, but even though my heart twisted with joy, the hope was painful.

But two years had passed already... And even though Russia had played me in other ways, it was the first time he tried too hard to make me look presentable, as if he wanted to cover up the dealings he's been having with me. "You're the only person who has a villain role and who he can vent to," Belarus had excused him once.

I tried not to think, but I still couldn't get rid of that bad habit. I was going to show myself to someone, that was for sure. But who? Maybe it wouldn't be one of us... Maybe just a politician, or even some errand boy. But... What if it was West?

Surely my brother had been asking about me all these years, if there's one thing he has, it's that he's tireless. I'm sure he hasn't given up, I'm sure this little meeting is the fruit of his efforts, just a glance to know that I'm fine, that despite the division of my territory, that every day I'm more just a name... I'm fine.

— I'm fine, West —I murmured to the broken mirror they lent me, joining the theater that Ivan wanted so much to present. Despite everything, I didn't want to worry Ludwig... I didn't want him to see me with pity.

— Let’s go. —Russia in person came for me, and for the first time in a long time I left my cell without chains or ties to hinder me.

He took me to a dining room where three places were set, my heart tortured me again when I confirmed that it was a visit.

Ivan asked me to sit down while he went to get the guest, he knows well that I no longer try to escape, besides, I don't want to escape, not now that I'll see...

— West... —I got up as soon as I heard the door open.

But it was just Russia, his victorious smile.

“I'm so sorry, it seems he's had other more important matters... But don't worry, he sent you a present.” He was hiding something behind his back, but I could see the flowers from there.

I managed not to make any expression, neither anger, nor shame, nor sadness, I wasn't going to give him the pleasure of knowing that his stab was accurate. Braginsky didn't wait for me to say anything and showed me the decoration of lilies and chrysanthemums. It was a wreath that followed the shape of a heart, a ribbon with my name crossed through the center...

I must have lost the ability to hide my emotions, because the smile of the man in front of me widened.

The funeral arrangement could only mean one thing...

... I'm not even a name anymore.

----

FEBRERO

— La celebración se atrasó un poco, sí, pero tienes que estar presentable. No pregunté qué tenía de especial celebrar San Valentín el 25. En la Unión Soviética ni siquiera celebran esa fecha, que por qué es un invento capitalista, pero si me lo preguntan creo que es por qué no entienden lo que es el amor. No era que no sintiera curiosidad mientras me cortaban el cabello a la manera en que lo tenía cuando llegué, mientras rasuraban mi barba y me entregaban un traje que poco podría disimular los kilos que he perdido. Pero aprendí por las malas a no abrir demasiado la boca, algo que seguro todos los que me conocen habrían creído imposible. Iván es milagroso, supongo. — Recibirás la visita que tanto esperabas ¿Ves? No soy tan malo como crees — Aun así Rusia parecía ansioso por pescar mi curiosidad. "Está jugando conmigo" intenté convencerme. Pero cuando se lo mencioné a Ucrania luego de que trajera a mi celda la primer comida decente en años, ella reaccionó con felicidad. — ¡Seguro que es tu hermano! Ella no lo sabe, pero aunque mi corazón se retorció por alegría, la esperanza fue dolorosa. Pero habían pasado ya dos años... Y aunque Rusia había jugado conmigo de otras formas, era la primera vez que se esforzaba demasiado por qué yo me viera presentable, como si quisiera tapar los tratos que ha estado teniendo conmigo. "Eres la única persona que tiene un papel de villano y con quién puede desahogarse", lo había excusado Bielorrusia una vez. Intenté no pensar, pero aún no lograba quitarme esa mala costumbre. Iba a mostrarme ante alguien, eso era seguro ¿Pero quién? Tal vez no fuera con uno de nosotros... Tal vez solo un político, o incluso algún recadero. Pero... ¿Y si si era West? Seguro que mi hermano había estado preguntando por mi todos estos años, si algo tiene él es que es incansable. Seguro que no se ha rendido, seguro que está pequeña reunión es fruto de sus esfuerzos, solo un vistazo para saber que estoy bien, que a pesar de la repartición de mi territorio, que cada día soy más sólo un nombre ... Estoy bien. — Estoy bien, West —Le murmuré al espejo roto que me prestaron, uniéndome al teatro que Iván tanto quería presentar. A pesar de todo, no quería preocupar a Ludwig... No quería que me viera con lastima. — Andando —Rusia en persona vino por mi, y por primera vez en mucho tiempo salí de mi celda sin cadenas o ataduras que me entorpecieran. Me llevó hasta un comedor donde estaban puestos tres lugares, mi corazón volvió a torturarme al confirmar que se trataba de una visita. Ivan me pidió que me sentara en lo que iba por el invitado, sabe bien que ya no intento escapar, además, no quiero escapar, no ahora que veré a... — West... —Me levanté en cuanto escuché que la puerta se abría. Pero solo era Rusia, su sonrisa victoriosa. — Lo siento mucho, parece que ha tenido otros asuntos más importantes ... Pero no te preocupes, te mando un regalo —Escondía algo tras su espalda, pero podía ver las flores desde allí. Conseguí no hacer ninguna expresión, ni rabia, ni vergüenza, ni tristeza, no iba a darle el gusto de saber que su puñal fue certero. Braginski no espero a que dijera nada y me mostró el adorno de lirios y crisantemos. Era una corona de flores que seguía la forma de un corazón, un listón con mi nombre atravesado al centro... Debí haber perdido la habilidad para ocultar mis emociones, por qué la sonrisa del hombre frente a mi se amplió. El arreglo fúnebre solo podía significar una cosa... ... Ya no soy ni siquiera un nombre.

[shinysobi]

love's labour lost (lee jihoon)

in the end, all he does is run away.

☆ lovers to strangers: lee jihoon x composer! reader ☆ w.c: 2.5k (shortest yet!) ☆ genres: idol au, angst, dissolution of a relationship, jihoon is an asshole here i'm sorry (or am i) based entirely on all my love ☆ written for bella's event !! thank you so much for letting me write this haha i had a lot of fun! ☆tagging: @bella-feed (bc it was her event) @mylovesstuffs (because she's the one who listens to me yap) @gyubakeries (my comrade in this mess) and @hannieoftheyear bc she loves a toxic romance masterlist

All my love has amounted to, is this. 

Jihoon doesn’t know where exactly he went wrong. He did the things that were expected of him, he said the right things, he went to the right places, met and schmoozed with the right people, and yet, at the end of the day, he was there, and they were not. 

Jihoon knows who he is, really. He knows he’s not the most expressive guy; knows he is a bit slow on the uptake, knows he comes off as intimidating and standoffish most of the time. He’s not the easiest guy to get close to, unfortunately. 

Which leaves him here, looking at the phone screen in dismay, rereading the final two texts he’s sent them. Even now, looking back at the relationship, he wants to ask, what happened? Where did he go wrong, where did they go wrong? There is nothing apparent within the texts; they’re meaningless, accounts of a bad day that Jihoon had been having, updates on his meals, everything that was mundane and bleak and yet, they contained so much of his heart. 

In the end, the conversation had petered out easily, like the final burst of a firework, there were no explosive arguments, no throwing things, no tears, nothing at all. No spark in his life, nothing that told him about the steady dissolution of something that went on for perhaps too long. Jihoon doesn’t know how to live life without them, and yet, somehow he does, muscle memory pulling him through the motions of the day with an accuracy that scares him at first. He wakes up, brushes his teeth, goes to the studio to write, and ends up staring at the blank pages of his diary for far longer than necessary. He goes to practise, goes through the motions of being a dancer with a degree of precision that scares him at first, but now, now he’s used to it. 

The rest of Seventeen leave him alone, whispering amongst themselves about how Jihoon has been pulling away from the world even more. Have you talked to him? They ask, and Jihoon has to use force to get Seungcheol out of his studio, an action that Cheol protests by sitting in front of his studio doors for an hour until they have schedules together. He’s supposed to be working on song lyrics for their upcoming album, but all he can think of is the last time he met her. It had been a hasty meeting, held in one of the many boardrooms at HYBE, and he kept avoiding her gaze as she tried to explain the new concepts that management wanted them to try out for the album. She had kept trying to meet his gaze, and he had kept avoiding her, feeling the weight of at least thirty pairs of eyes on his every reaction as she stumbled through her words and her scratch tracks. He had shook his head, trying to control his reactions as much as he could. She was a phenomenal writer, no doubt, but no one took her seriously, not in PLEDIS and HYBE, at least. When he stood up to present his work, with similar themes to hers, they all murmured compliments and nodded with positive affirmations. Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon could see her shrink into her seat. She was never really someone who would speak up for herself, and Jihoon knew that. 

He doesn’t say anything, even when he knows he should. Instead, he sits back, and allows himself to take credit for her work, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. Her eyes follow him for the whole day, a mix of sadness and something else entirely. Jihoon knows what that is, he just does nothing to change that look in them. 

She looks like a wounded animal, he realises that night at three a.m, sipping on coffee as he works on tracks sent by her on a single USB. the files always have the same names, nothing of note, nothing of importance. Just the name of the song she’s sending it in for, and the date and version of the file. There have been times where she’s sent in files with nothing but the name, Song Draft#1, or something like All My love, draft #2. He likes the way she writes these, likes the way her filenames leave nothing for him to question. On the other hand, Jihoon sends the producers and songwriters drafts named (very creatively) Vernon is being a bitch, or as on one single, memorable occasion, how do I kill Seokmin and bury his body without anyone knowing? They had looked at him like he was crazy, but really, Jihoon doesn’t mind. He likes being known as the crazy one, the problem child of the company. Jihoon remembers the one time he went on lockdown in the studio to make a whole album from scratch in a week, and the rest of the company gave him a wide berth, because really, no one wants to fuck with Lee Jihoon, the insufferable genius of Pledis. 

Which makes entire sense as to why she left him, of course. 

Jihoon is not a stranger to how awfully their relationship began. Even by his standards, the way he asked her out was shitty. They had been sitting in his studio, drinking coffee and working yet another late night, when he had turned to look at her, and said a single word, “chicken?”

“Huh?” she had asked, looking up from her laptop, “right now?”

“No, I mean later,” Jihoon had clarified, looking slightly exasperated at how slowly this was moving along, “chicken. Fried chicken. Do you want to get some with me?”

“Uh, sure.” She had turned back to her work, and Jihoon had nodded, murmuring, it’s a date, then. 

That was how it had begun. Jihoon knew he should not have begun a relationship, or even dated anyone like that, attaching himself to the first person who caught his eye after recovering from a breakup. He knows he should not do it, but he does it anyway. Watches as she gets grilled by higher-ups during meetings, watches as he opens his mouth to say something, but keeps quiet instead. Even his bandmates, people who barely knew her, tried to speak up when they could, but he kept his mouth shut. 

Why did he do that?

At first, it was to maintain distance, to maintain the farce that while they were professional colleagues during work hours, he was not pressing her up against the couch in his studio afterwards. A way to let himself know that the Lee Jihoon of Seventeen was a different person to producer Lee Jihoon, who was a different person to just Lee Jihoon, the man who was using a woman for his benefit. 

It all grew hot and cold, after a while. She stopped expecting things from him, he hadn’t been doing anything for her in the first place. Even with his growing guilt, Jihoon couldn’t stop going back to her day after day, taking whatever she gave, and leaving without giving anything in return. He had it down to a science, almost. 

They were caught once. Well, he was the one who was caught, and it was Seungkwan of all people, who had run into him one late night. Seungkwan was there for practice, and Jihoon was there because he wanted to unwind fuck in peace. They ran into each other in the company elevator, and Seungkwan just stared at him for three seconds, before opening his mouth, “don’t do this, hyung.”

Jihoon stared at him, too. What the hell? “What do you mean,” He’d asked, but from the look on Seungkwan’s face, any explanation was unnecessary. 

“Don’t hurt someone just because you’re hurting too, hyung,” Seungkwan muttered, before getting out of the elevator, “She’s not someone you can hurt and leave when you want to. No one is.”

With that, he was gone, leaving behind Jihoon, still in the elevator, thinking. Hewas free to do whatever he wanted, Seungkwan and his fucking stupid moral policing be damned. And she was an adult. She knew what he wanted, she knew what they were getting into. There was nothing that Jihoon had not told her, so this line of thinking was irrelevant. 

—

Slowly, things start to change. Jihoon suspects Seungkwan’s involvement, but without any proper proof, he can’t even charge the man with anything. She becomes slightly more confident, slightly more outgoing. Earlier, when he called her after work, she came running, no matter how busy she was. Now, he found himself waiting for hours for a reply, and even then, it was all noncommittal, nothing more than yes, maybe, or sorry, no, I’m busy. He got the second text far more often than the first one. 

And then one day, Vernon came into the studio, visibly excited, and started talking about her, “did you know?” He said, “she’s composing the music for this new film.”

“She is?” Jihoon can’t even hide how much it rankles, the news that she’s moved on beyond him, that now she’s begun work as a film composer, “which movie?”

Vernon, who apparently got the news from her, says the name, “it’s going to be shown at Jeonju International Festival, and the lead actor came here today! They finished production on the film, and he came to congratulate her and take a look at her workspace and all.”

Ah, so that was why. Jihoon doesn’t say anything, gives a grunt and goes back to his work, a sign that Vernon interprets as get out. He leaves his studio an hour later to go to the cafeteria, and he sees her eating with another person. The actor; he thinks, and then turns around to leave before she catches his eye. If he saw her, she would come over to greet him, he knew her well enough for that. 

And, he’s never seen her laugh that way 

—

Unfortunately, somewhere between using her for his emotional benefit and discovering she had moved on without him knowing, Jihoon’s feelings had changed. He now looked for her in every meeting; her absence rankled in a place that was not quite familiar to him before. Hell, he even missed the way she ate her food, it was a trivial detail, but now he remembers the way she would carefully arrange everything on her plate and obsess over calories, insisting that she needed to have a certain amount to not keel over and faint. 

Then the conversation peters out entirely. Even when she was actively ignoring his texts outside of work, she would respond to his emails, send over USBs with the song files she was working on, sit in on meetings to workshop lyrics. Those stop too, and now he gets USBs through harried interns who don’t know who they are from, or gets his emails rerouted to another (usually higher) person in charge. Nothing non-professional, nothing he can fault her for. It’s annoying. It’s fucking annoying, how in the end of this twisted fucking mess, Jihoon is only one with mud on his skin. He’s still the terrible toddler, she’s the one whose reputation is pristine. Jihoon didn’t much care for his reputation either way, but if he was getting called an asshole, with rumors of him pursuing and abandoning an employee, he wishes she were affected too. It's selfish to be thinking about another person like this, but Jihoon does not care. He wants everyone to suffer along with him. 

It’s been about a month now. Within this time, he’s been the worst version of himself, locked Cheol out of the studio, ignored everyone’s calls and threatened to kill Seokmin on three separate occasions, but it’s been a month. A month since she stopped responding, a month since he’s had any sort of news from her. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he craves it anyway. 

He runs into Seungkwan on the way to the studio one morning, and the younger man takes one look at him and shakes his head. Jihoon doesn’t say anything. He walks into the studio and closes the door behind him. 

“She’s left.”

Jihoon turns. Seungkwan had walked into the studio, and was looking at him with a mix of pain and contempt, “she’s left PLEDIS. Left HYBE.”

“Wait, what?” It’s his turn to not believe his ears, “who did?”

“The girl you were actively trying to fuck over, hyung, she left,” Seungkwan sighs, “and one more thing, I think it’s a good thing she did.”

“What?”

“She’s now a fully-fledged film composer, hyung,” Seungkwan replies, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “she’s composing scores for two more upcoming films and one television drama. She no longer needs PLEDIS.”

The subtext is clear. 

Jihoon says nothing, just allows Seungkwan to leave. 

—

Three months later, her film premiered at Jeonju International Film Festival. Four of them go; make a show of it, as per Cheol’s orders. He wasn’t aware of what Jihoon did. If he knew, he wouldn’t have let Jihoon go. Anyway, the four of them go, in show of support for an ex-coworker. It’s too much, even for them, he thinks, who the hell organised this? 

He gets his answer before the show, when Vernon shakes her hand enthusiastically, grinning, “I knew you’d be a phenomenal film composer.”

She doesn’t even look at him. 

They take their seats, it’s refreshing to be in a crowd of cinephiles where no one cares about who the hell SEVENTEEN are. Jihoon settles down into his seat, and the starting credits roll. 

The score remains with him even after the film ends. Jihoon doesn’t care for movies, not like Vernon does anyway, so he focuses on the score; which is haunting, stretching like a yawning cat over the expanse of the film, occasionally baring its claws to let people know the genius of its composer. She had done well, and now he thinks the reason why everyone was so critical of her was because they were scared. Cheol claps enthusiastically, Seungkwan claps like he’s the person behind her success (with all his subterfuge, he might as well be) and Vernon even lets out a whoop to show her how much he’s enjoyed her work. Jihoon, out of all the four of them, doesn’t do anything, doesn’t clap, doesn’t smile. He can’t even think properly. So she left the company to do this. To be a film composer. Why did it matter? Why did it matter to him how she lived her life? He used her, she left him, in the end, it was his own actions that led him to be this way. She has always remained the pristine one, unbothered and unaffected of anything that happened in any space. In the end, Jihoon doesn’t even clap, because he’s afraid of tainting her. To be associated with me is the equivalent of throwing mud on yourself, he reasons, as they walk out of the theatre and into a waiting car, this is better. This way, she doesn’t have to remember me anymore. 

Now he knows what he feels, but it’s far too little, far too late. As always. In the end, the guy does not get the girl. In the end, Lee Jihoon remains where he has always been, waiting, a spectator in someone else’s curtain call. All his love has amounted to, is this. 

[etz-ashashiyot]

If you are upset about Jews living in Israel, first ask yourself: What factors led to them being there in the first place? Was my family complicit in these atrocities? What have I done to address these historical wrongs? How do my answers to these questions inform how I view other refugees?

If you are upset about Jews moving to Israel in the present, first ask yourself: What have I done to make my area a safe place for Jews to live in the present? How have I stood up to antisemitism here, now? What guarantees against future violence have I worked to put in place?

If you are upset that nation-states exist and want Israel to be disbanded on that premise, first ask yourself: What have I done to dissolve my own country's nation-state? Who is likely to be hurt in the ensuing chaos of this dissolution, and what can be realistically proposed as an immediate practical substitute so that it doesn't devolve into rule by brute strength? If your goal is to start with Israel, why Israel over any other state, given that there are numerous countries that are committing atrocities on a much wider scale? Why do you object to Jews having a state more so than all other peoples with states?

If you are upset about land theft from Palestinians, first ask yourself: Am I living on land I am not indigenous to? Is it somewhere that the native population was violently dispossesed of? If so, have I devoted even a tenth of the time, effort, and emotional energy to rectifying these local historical wrongs as I have to this conflict in an entirely different country? What is my responsibility to do so? Is this cause just a way to "atone" for the original sin of the settlers in my country without changing anything about my own life?

There is a conversation to be had here, but until you can answer these questions earnestly and thoughtfully, you are not a serious enough person to have these conversations with.

[andypantsx3]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI : MASTERLIST

please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!

bakugou writing tag | universal masterlist

MULTI-CHAPTER

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savvy (17.5K) : complete

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ONE SHOTS

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DRABBLES + PROMPT FICLETS

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[raayllum]

Anyway earlier this month I said I had a lot of feelings about how visual framing is used in Viren and Harrow's relationship so time to talk about it, i.e.

Harrow is almost always framed as being above Viren

Now, some of the meaning behind this is obvious. In spite of their longterm friendship, the fact that Harrow was king and had the final say, and Viren very much did not (and likely went from being Harrow's closest advisor to second fiddle with Sarai, and then back again) is something that Viren concerns himself a great deal with: "My whole life I've been chasing after things I didn't have. Status, influence, power" (4x02). Due to this difference in status, Viren's plans are suggestions, whereas Harrow's word is law, and Viren each time has to present his ideas accordingly, and the framing reflects that:

We see this desire to be close to Harrow and power more generally bleed over into other areas of Viren's life, such as his obsession with the mirror. Viren assumes the proximity to power begets or informs importance/worth, and that because "the mirror was kept closest to where [the Dragon King and Queen] slept, it must be important."

This of course is a mirror (ha) to his image of himself, in which, "I thought you were going to be something special, something important!" (2x02) and exactly why Harrow's words of, "I see the problem now: it's that you believe you are special, above the laws of this kingdom."

His happiest moment with Harrow then arguably, within the text of the show, is when Harrow invites him up to be on equal standing (and also why said portrait is what inspires Viren to offer himself up as Harrow's "equal" - amid a self-importance kink, of course). When they were 'brothers', and why the dissolution of their bond undoes this framing entirely.

It's not surprising, then, that his psyche reenacts the Happy moment with the portrait with an even sweeter, cherry on top of not just Harrow's forgiveness, but his love, acceptance, and admiration, in Viren's dark magic dreams.

Symbolized by Harrow lowering himself in order literally lift Viren up from a kneel, to standing as equals, and into a hug (+ acceptance and a mutual assurance of familial connection/importance).

(Bonus points for Harrow's sword being changed into Viren's staff immediately after their hug, btw.)

But just like 2x05 with the portrait, this moment of reconciliation and happiness even inside Viren's mind cannot last forever, as he's pushed and stumbles into an even lower place than on his knees, and this part of the nightmare is over.

This is also, of course, the most overt framing to display power and control vs feeling powerless or helpless.

That said, while Harrow above and Viren below framing wise is the most consistent framing we see for the two (besides just regular shots with things like pillars and titan hearts in between them) are the ones where Viren is framed above... and it's not usually good.

We see the Standing to Kneeling to be on level with Harrow to Standing again progression as Viren makes his case regarding Zym. Like before, I think this serves a few purposes.

Viren standing at first when Harrow does not reflects their attitudes, specifically Harrow's relief that it's finally over and Viren's suspicion that it's not

Viren then moves to be on Harrow's level and this communicates how he's pleading / trying to have Harrow understand his point of view by bringing himself down to Harrow's level. This, of course, is ironic, because by doing so, Viren is bringing Harrow down to his level in terms of morality

Viren straightening up again indicates assertiveness, being active rather than passive, and perpetuating a path that offers agency, safety, and control, horrible as it is.

And it works, since as we know, Harrow goes along with and agrees to it in spite of his reservations.

However, the most interesting flip of "Viren looking down at Harrow instead" has always been this one at Harrow's funeral in 1x04, as Viren is attempting to rush things along and take his former's friend throne. All the power is there within his grasp as he stares impassively into the fire, and yet it rings hollow and reminds him ("In his final hours, he called me brother") of precisely what lies he's telling not only the populace, but also himself.

Because the only way for Viren to look down on and at Harrow was for him to be dead.

[archivedjuice]

quite genuinely i think zdarsky making mike matt's foil was probably the best post-soule mike murdock decision ever because not only does it enhance matt's already existing story and makes you question how mike would fit into everything that you read pre-real boy mike, it also gives mike his own rich inner life just by making matt his foil. it gives you an already incredibly fleshed out basis for how his inner world works with that one narrative decision. it seems so simple but really and truly it adds so much with so little 'effort'. like my favourite thing to do ever is reread the man without fear and think about where and how mike would fit in kind of in a similar way to how mike nicely slots into the born again detail of matt's story when maggie visits matt at the hospital after he's blinded.

the very fact and nature of exactly how he has to slot into every crevice of matt's story (metaphorical of the fact that mike never enters matt's hospital room, he sleeps and remains outside and at the door, even when he witnesses maggie's presence) is kind of it's own homage to the 'purpose' of mike murdock in the first place. he's an alternative to the lifestyle that is either matt murdock or daredevil. he was privy to matt's struggle‚ being quite literally matt himself‚ and subverted matt's identity into compartmentalised divisions. he does something similar with his sheer Real Boy existence by simply existing within the narrative but his inclusion is also his exclusion! he is unable to fundamentally alter aspects of matt's life that need to happen despite the purpose of his initial existence being that of alleviating the pressure that comes with matt and daredevil's existence, and that crevice of matt's story is exactly where the crux of his character as a foil of matt lies! he lives with every inherent nuance of matt's world that matt had to live to explore, that exists beneath a layer of dissolution; case in point: maggie as their mother and mike's different view of their father

[paeliae-occasionally]

Hello! Intro Post.

Hi, so I’ve been hanging around for a while now, but I have recently started posting more so I have decided to write an intro.

Online I go by Pae, (or Pae pae) I am non-binary. (they/them) and I write and draw.

Current WIPs

Blue Posts are the essentials of you want to send me an ask , or if you just want an intro to the blog.

Pink are my personal favourites.

Scenes

Memory and death

Marsh Prison scene

Lore stuff:

Magic

Magic Systems

The history of the runes

More runes lore

Culture

The mages immortality lore

The death realms

The gardens

Languages

The Druids

The Mulai’Kaleppi

The Opyri

The Tiel’Drysar

(More Necromancy)

The lighthouse keepers

Laith’Zairel

Gods Culture

History

The blood wars

Blood wars 2

The mist war

The Separation, Dissolution and Accords

Maps

-Laith’Emeris 1

-Laith’Emeris 2

-30BD map

-Laith’Zairel

-How I make maps (continents)

Join the Tag List~

Summaries:

Paeliae - Magic politician

A mage living in the period when the god vs mages war starts. (8 BD, before dissolution) He is a politician, despite having no patience for the ages old elvish mages who currently run the council. He is obsessed with leaving a lasting legacy even if that means dying today. As such he is vehemently against the concept of immortality, During the war he helps negotiate with the gods to come to a truce. 27, He/Him.

Xaeren - Runic Inventor

Xaeren designed 42 of the 47 runes and uses them to protect himself from the vengeful goddess Schaeres. When she finally attacks him, Xaeren realises there were very few limits to what he could do with the runes and sets out to kill Schaeres, both as payback and just to prove that he can. But some things can’t be done alone…

Xaeren lore 1

Xaeren lore 2- (This is a bit old so some of the Kell stuff has changed)

Xaeren lore 3

Kell - Magic Student

Xaeren rescues her from a small dock town and gets her a place at the Lysandri school of magic. Kell is thrust into a world of magic and has to keep up with the help of Xaeren’s tutoring, but as she begins to fit in with the mages there, her loyalty to the criminal godkiller Xaeren comes into question.

Tyro - Traumatised Sorcerer

lives in the modern day (about 1500 PD, post-dissolution). They have recently escaped from the abusive cult that adopted them as a child, with their adoptive brother Apollo. They are a sorcerer, so have born magic, but were also taught to use runes by the cult. They never used them because of trauma but they could if they wanted to. They are currently running from the cult and trying not to be noticed by the government, who take in all sorcerer children so they can have a monopoly on magic. They have found a family in some other sorcerers living in an abandoned manor outside the city. 17, They/them

Apollo - adopted older brother of Tyro.

He took care of them and the others in the cult, despite being abused severely himself. Despite the trauma he is a very powerful runic. He is currently being attacked by, and looking for other cults like the one he was adopted into to help other children like him. 21, He/They

Ez and Rin (~1000 BD)- The gay bois, who definitely don’t start the apocalypse.

Ez (short for Ezemhaziel) is the god of refined magic. He falls in love with Rin when he is researching to create the runes. He is somewhat of a Prometheus figure, as he brings the first magic to mortals by teaching Rin.

Rin is a gardener working for one of the altic kings, who equally loves Ez for his magic and creativity. Ez and Rin end up working on the runes together. The other gods get mad that Ez gave magic to a mortal, and they let the mortals murder Rin. Ez is mad. This will spiral and cause the start of the godly war, which then ushers in the godly mages war, where 3/4 of all mages die and the gods are removed from the world.

Ezemhaziel lore

Daimion and Marsh - the regretful and the merry murderer

Daimion and marsh grew up together being trained for an elite military unit, which they both got into. While in the unit they are ordered to fire on civilians and they do it, but later Daimion regrets killing innocents and leaves the unit without notice. He goes on to find the daughter of one of the people he murdered that day and the woman who has been taking care of her. He protects them fiercely and tries to make up for what he did. Marsh however, fully commits to the ‘I kill people as a job, I might as well enjoy it’ and ends up being so recklessly violent that he is imprisoned in the highest security jail in the country, which he later breaks out of to commit a massacre, then returns to his cell like nothing happened. This occurs a couple of times until Daimion has to go get him. - Marsh intro - Marsh lore

Just a brief overview of some of the things I am currently working on. I plan to post more about the magic systems and historical events of the world. I also post maps.

Feel free to ask me about this, and tag me in games. Interact here to join the tag list:

Tag List~

Thanks for visiting, feel free to stick around <3

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

Plot

You attend jujitsu with Gojo,

Your first week and you've been sent out with him to learn how to exercise cursed spirits

He leads you into an old abandoned house, scares you a few times, then a spirit attacks you

Takes you back and takes care of you

Next mission you go with Geto, you get kidnapped, but he can't save you

My first week at jujitsu highschool actually wasn't too bad. Don't get me wrong, school still sucks, but having a tall, slim but incredibly built teacher, with glistening white hair who always spouts the stupidest anecdotes, and chucks mochi balls at us if we get answers correct, made it feel a little less stressful, and little more fun. I was a little older than the other first years; they ranged from 16-18, and I sat at a delicate 24, not much older than the freshly born adult range, but scarily older than the 16 year olds it felt. Our teacher Mr Gojo seemed within our age range, which perplexed me, he was clearly the youngest teacher here.

After being told my ranking was Grade 1, I assumed I was a pretty high end sorcerer already, but very quickly found that, even though grade 1 used to be top dog, with the increasing amount of special grade curses popping up, the rankings might need to change soon...

After a particularly strenuous training session, I found Gojo waiting outside my door, leaning against it with a pastry hanging half in his mouth as he frantically texted on his flip phone.

"AH! There you are! Girl of the hour!" He tilts his head, smiling towards me, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He pulls the pastry from his mouth and shoves it in my direct,

"Wanna try? It's sooo goooood." I wave my hand and shake my head gently towards him,

"Maybe another time. I feel like I'm about to split in half after training today, did you need something?"

"Split in half ey?" I find his head lowering as if he was slowly looking me up and down, "Anyway!" He jumped up, excitedly, suddenly appearing next to me with his arm draped around my shoulder, "It's your lucky day! You get to go on a super secret mission with me, Saturo Gojo, the best in the bizz!" He proudly points to his chest as he says his name, laughing, as we begin our walk to the exit of the building.

"Me? On a mission already? Wait, with you as well?! What the hell did I do to provoke such an invitation?!.... Was it because I kicked Pandas ass yesterday?" My eyes dart along the floor as I'm deep in thought, trying to figure out why it was me who got invited to help Gojo out, even if it only meant watching him in action.

"I mean, yeah that's a good start, but I actually requested you for this mission myself. Well, I say I requested....they don't actually know you're coming with me yet, I'm sure Megumi has given Yaga the note by now though..." He smirked and pulled me in slightly closer to his side.

"I'm sure it'll all work out, who's gonna mess with you anyway now that I'm around?" He glanced at me from the side of his glasses, winking then throwing his head back as a laugh roared from his mouth. I rolled my eyes but couldn't keep the smile from creeping on my face.

We met ijichi at the entrance to the school and he drove us roughly 2 hours away of town, to a place that could only be described as 'disgustingly dissolute.' As we exited the car, Gojo got a call.

"Mhm, I'm here. Yeah yeah that's fine." He pauses, a look of concern washing over him, "Oh, he got the note then...yeah she's here. She's fine. You think I'd let anything happ...." The person on the other end of the phone had evidently hung up before he could finish his sentence. He snapped his phone closed and shoved it into his pocket.

"So yeeeeeeeah, Yaga ain't happy. He told megumi that he's instructed ijichi to turn back around and come collect you, buuuuut that's not gonna happen." He flashes a grin and grabs me by the arm, "How can he collect you if he can't find you? Hold on." We suddenly start running towards a block of dilapidated buildings and down a few alleys. We stop abruptly as he pushes me with one hand against the wall behind him. He quietly listens to see if ijichi bothered driving down this side of the buildings, but hearing anything, he looks back at me laughing quietly to himself, to find me staring wide eyed down at the fact he had his hand placed perfectly cradling my right breast. Jumping back and putting his hand on the back of his neck, he quickly apologised for the accidently grope.

"oh shit, sorry about that! It's usually me by myself, or if anyone HAS to come with it, it's usually Yugi...I'm not used to boobs getting in the way when I'm trying to hide someone from others eyeline....felt nice though, so, thanks for that little pick me up!"

"Errrr, anytime I guess?" I muster, trying to pretend I wasn't completely flustered. 3 seconds of grabbing my boob got me this shy and embarrassed? God he's gonna think I'm a virgin! I should've smacked his hand, slapped his face, put my hand on his pec imitating him... He could see the racing thoughts going through my mind as I stood motionless, eyes only darting along the floor again, but he quickly interruptes.

"Ooooh, so you're a thinker...I wish I was a thinker. I just say whatever I want and worry about thinking later. It usually works out." He leans down to look at me, peering over his glasses, clearly trying to crack a smile.

I giggle and brush my hair behind my ear, flattening the creases from my shirt, I ask where we had to head next.

"um...um..." He spins around, looking at the buildings surrounding us, "Oh! There! You see that creepy looking building that looks like it's been burnt to a crisp, and could collapse at a sudden wind? Yeah, we're headed in there." He walks gleefully towards the decrepit building, swinging his arms exaggeratedly beside himself, as I follow on his tail. I don't understand why he looks so cheerful going into a place like this, but hey, it meant I got to watch him work, I couldn't exactly complain about it not being a 5 star hotel now could I.

Once I see him slip gracefully in the half open door, I follow him and find he's nowhere in the room before me. It's an old, dusty grey room, filled with burnt boxes and half a rug that looks like it's been torn in half. Stairs to the back right look damaged and unclimbable, with a hole half way up that seems to dig deep into the foundations of the building, I look to my left and see a room leading to what I assume is a kitchen. I creep into the room, clinging to the wall behind me, careful of my footing and try to enter the room with the tile flooring, to which I find him swinging on a chair, feet on the table, holding a porno magazine sideways, displaying nothing but charred remained of a woman jumping in the air, presumably with her breasts out, covered in white, foam? Soap? It's so burnt you can barely make out the photo anymore.

"Enjoying yourself?" I blurt, as he nearly falls off the chair and drops the magazine to the floor. He kicks it over to me,

"Check out that hottie!" He exclaims, "Get it, cause it's burnt? You get it right?" I roll my eyes and let out a slight sigh,

"Yeah I get it, you're into smoking hot babes." I let out a small laugh as I turn back around and hear him now actually falling off the chair backwards, laughing loudly!

"I knew you'd get it! Cm'here!" He appears behind me, and puts his arm around my waist, pulling me slightly closer into him, "I knew you'd get my humour. We're gonna get along like a house on fire, ey." He whispers into my ear, letting out a proud exhale of air from his nose.

I roll my eyes and ask him what we're doing in a dusty ass house like this, and what made it a special mission in the first place, to which he jumps up and appears at the top of the stairs, proudly proclaiming, "We're here so I can show off!" He wanders off, searching the top floor, as I decide to check the bottom floor. I can hear his footsteps lazily falling on the floorboards above me, as I open a cupboard and books loudly crash to my feet.

"YOU ALRIGHT DOWN THERE?!" I hear panic in his voice, and before I can even reply, I hear a tumble down the stairs, and a second later see him leaning against the doorframe behind me, arms folded, covered in dust, and his glasses hanging half off his face.

"Are you alright there?" I laugh, clearly mocking him falling down the stairs, to which I see his eyes dart behind me.

"Don't. Move." He whispers, a sudden seriousness took over his voice. I stiffen my body and hold his gaze.

"Now walk slowly towards me. SLOWER. Slower. Good. Now just keep coming towards me. I've got you." His eyes widened as he slowly held a hand out to me, I reached for it trying to move as slow as physically possible, to which he suddenly darts at me and pins me to the ground, completely shielding me. I wince and brace myself for impact, and after a few seconds of nothing happening, I slowly open my eyes and see him staring down at me, smiling, still completely ontop of me.

"Spider." He laughs. His chest an inch from my face, I jerk forward trying to bite at his nipple, to which he forcefully uses his hand to push my chest down, now grabbing the left breast slightly.

"Nununuh, pervert. You've gotta wine and dine me first, before biting me anywhere." He flashes a smirk and lingers his hand still on my chest, before looking me up and down and then standing back up, offering his hand out to me.

"So you bring new girls here to grope and have your way with them then I take it?" I snark at him, ignoring his out stretched hang and getting myself up.

"Wait what? You think...?" He breaks out in laughter at the thought of me assuming he wanted to take me. He wipes a fake tear from his eye and rearranged his glasses. I pout and furrow my brow, looking away from him, annoyed that he thought my assumption was a bit too funny. To which I hear,

"why would I take you somewhere like here if I wanted you? My rooms so much nicer. Sound proof too." It sounded like he was whispering it directly into my ear, I could almost feel his hot breath as he said it. Flustered I turn my head to where I thought I heard it, and again, he's nowhere to be found.

I try to shake the fluster from my face, and head back to searching the room, nothing in here looks especially exciting, or suspicious, until I hear a stone hit the full-length window Infront of me. Peering out I see a figure in the alley opposite, hunched over, bobbing his back slightly up and down. I look closer and see puddles of red by its feet.

"Gojo, I think it's outside!" I shout, hoping he's still somewhere in the house, to which the figure abruptly stands bolt up right, as if it heard me, span around and bolted toward me at top speed. Before I could even stumble backwards, it crashed through the window and landed ontop of me, pinning me to the ground and snapping his jaws an inch from my face. I let out a loud shriek as I try to push the beast off of me, but it's sheer force felt like it was merging me with the floorboards. I tried to fling my head up to headbutt it, but it felt like I headbutted a concrete wall, I instantly lose consciousness from the force.

I awake to the fresh air hitting my face, as I realise I'm in Gojo's arms, carrying me out of the building. I look up at him and see a stern, concerned look on his face, as he rushes me to a car. I black out again. When I come too again finally, I'm in my own bed, in an oversized t shirt and trousers that were 100 times too big for me, with the sound of footsteps outside my door. It sounded like someone pacing outside my door, as I open my mouth to speak, an immense pain filled my brain as I grabbed at my head and groaned. The footsteps stopped, and my door flung open.

"You're alive! Thank god! The elders won't have my head for killing the newbie. Phew." An exaggerated sign of relief left his mouth as he realised I was now conscious again.

"As soon as we arrived back at Jujitsu, Shoko took care of you and instructed me to let you rest, and to keep guard outside your door incase you woke with a concussion and needed help." He seemed less cheerful than usual, as caution donned his beautiful face.

Still grabbing at my head with one hand, I tried to chuckle but nothing came out. I grabbed at my throat and felt deep lacerations run along my jugular. In a panic I sit bolt up right, clutching at my throat, trying to make any sound auditable.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he says, rushing to the side of my bed, placing his hands on mine and bringing them slowly away from my scars. " You'll be okay, Shoko said it'll take a few days for your voice to come back, but after that you'll be absolutely fine. That bastard got you good, I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop it before it got to you." Disappointment flooded his face, and I try to muster a smile, and shake my head. I use my fingers to sign "it's okay" in BSL, this clearly perplexed him. He looked down at my fingers, back at my face, back to my fingers and back to my face again, with an blank stare.

"Errrrr, what? I didn't think you knew about domain expansions yet...what the hell are you trying to do?!" He grabbed at my hands and pushed them into my lap, completely confused he looks back at my hands.

I try to giggle and make a pen and paper gesture as he frees my hands, to which he runs off and riffles through my draws to find. It's on my nightstand next to me, but he continues to dramatically find said pen and paper. Holding pairs of my pants, glancing at them and slightly giggling to himself quietly, like a school boys first time seeing girls pants, he throws them behind him and finally finds a pen and some scrap paper. Returning to my side, he passes them to me and after scribbling for a second, I shove the paper in his face that simply reads,

"GIVE THEM BACK."

I stare at his pocket and give the "give me" gesture with my hand, clasping it open and shut repeatedly. He pulls a bright pink thong from his pocket.

"Ooooh, how did THEY get in there. Heh." He chuckles, tilting his head sideways and giggling to himself.

I scribble again. 'Nice try.'

He jumps up from the side of my bed and rushes out the door. 'fuck me then I guess... Bye?' I start to scribble, hoping he'd look back before disappearing, but it was too late. Having left my door wide open, I try to get out of bed to close it and immediately topple to the floor. I couldn't feel my feet. I look up, defeated, and see him stood in my doorway again, this time holding 3 notebooks, about 10 pens, and 2 bags full of small boxes.

"As nice as you look on your knees Infront of me, what part of rest do you not understand?" He whisks me up in an instant and puts me back into bed. "Now, here's some food and plenty of paper so you can scribble your demands to your own personal Gojo nurse." He places his hands on his hips, comically striking a fanciful pose before catching a glimpse of a note on my bed out of the corner of his eye.

"hmm what's my next demand? Oh... Fuck me? Well...straight to the point I see." He smirks, holding the paper tightly in his hands. My face turns bright red as I scramble for the note books to explain that it was part of a previous note, to which he pulls them away from me and leans down close, looking at me from over his glasses. "Maybe when you're all better." He winks and clicks his tongue at me.

"Anyway, this nurse has to run some errands quickly, I'll be back in a little while. At least pretend to rest, I can see you're already pretty stubborn, but there's this new ice-cream flavour I've been meaning to try, and I know JUST the movie we have to watch later. Cya!" I lay my head back into the pillows and clench my eyes shut! Why did it have to be me that lost my voice? It would've been significantly funnier if it were him that lost his ability to ramble! Maybe then I could be his nurse....

After 2 days of Gojo doing his best at play pretend nurse, and sleeping next to me, ontop of the duvet every night in case I needed anything throughout, I finally managed to get my voice to come back!

"Fuck off" I lowly grumble, as my voice finally starts to become somewhat audible. It's a low, croaky husk, but it counts!

"Of course your first words are an insult to me." Gojo giggles, trying to help me stand but ultimately pushing me back onto the bed as I topple backwards.

"Seeeee, be nice to your nurse or she'll spike your meds." He taunts, looking down at me struggling to sit back up.

"Now that you're all better, I guess I can finally leave this smelly room and go back to my glorious kind size bed. Ooooh how I've missed comfort of any kind. These last few weeks of sleeping on nothing but ROCKS on the floor have ravished my good looks and fragile body!" He lays his arm over his forehead dramatically, pretending he's been at all hard done by.

"you....had...most....of....the...bed....every....night..." I slowly grumble, throwing a notebook at him, narrowly missing him.

"Yeah yeah, it might as well of been rocks on the floor, how do you sleep on that horrible thing?! I feel like I've aged 30 years already." He leans back, clicking his back and bends forward, stretching his lower back muscles, then waltzes to the door.

"Right, don't forget, if you need anything, ask literally anyone else from now on, Kay?" He smirks and with that, hes gone.

I won't lie, having his undivided attention and company these past few days has been nice. I find myself missing it already...a DVD case hurled its way towards me, hitting me in the middle of my forehead.

"Oh, and we're watching THIS tonight." I hear from the shadows of the corridor.

"At...least....close...the....DOOR..." I try to shout, grabbing at my throat.

After a terrible movie, I can barely keep my eyes open through, I find myself drifting off towards the last half of the film. When I wake I'm snuggled into Gojo's chest, with his head hanging back on my bedframe, snoring loudly. Careful not to wake him, I lay my head back down gently and smile at the position we've found yourself in.

A low, tired voice mumbles, "I saw that." Eyes still closed, smiling at me, I feel his arm pull me slightly closer into him, before his snoring continues.

The next few days I worked on getting my balance back and my voice better. Gojo had to go off on another mission, but promised to bring me back some fancy porno mags he finds at his next destination. I find myself sulking that I now had to sleep by myself again at night, and realized just how much I did miss his comforting snores. I turned to class the day after he left, finding comfort in the routine returning, I couldn't help but find myself looking towards the door every couple of hours. He hadn't returned in 4 days now, were his missions usually this long? Was our recuperation session too much for him, feeling bad about potentially leading me on, was he now avoiding me?

After a week of no Gojo, and my first chance at trying training again, I hear a chuckle from Geto as he watches Megumi wipe the floor with me, hardly holding back at all.

"You'd think he'd try to be more gentlemanly wouldn't you? Especially after what you went through, but alas, still a child with the trophy in his sights." Getos gentle smile made the pain ease slightly, as he gestured for me to walk with him.

"Now, please don't feel like you have to accept this invitation, especially not in your current state, but I spoke to Saturo and we both decided it would be good for you to get back out into the field." His calming voice settled any worries that arose from the initial statement, I agreed and asked him to assure me I was going to be a hindrance on whoever I was joining.

"Don't worry, you'll be joining me. It's only a Grade 3 curse, and even in your weakened state I'm confident even you could best it." He turns his head towards me, smiling gently still, and I accept.

"Perfect. We leave in 20."

"Right...now?" I confusingly express, looking down at my dirty uniform. "I don't think I have...enough time to change and....meet you back here in time." My voice still hurting to speak, but slowly regaining it's original tone.

"Don't worry, we'll only be an hour at best, I'm sure you'll be fine." He reassures me, and walks me to the archway, awaiting our car.

After a short ride, we arrive at the edge of the city, immediately Geto runs from the car and enters a building to our left.

"I don't know why he offered to take you to this, he's almost as fast as Gojo, and in your state, you'll be lucky to meet the door before he's finished absorbing it." Ijichi explains, a worried brow creases his forehead.

"I'm sure I'll..be fine." I whisper, stepping outside of the car. I walk towards the building Geto ran into and immediately get bombarded with curses spilling out of the now flung open door. They force me to the floor and trample me.

"Ambush!" I hear Geto scream, I hear ijichi's footsteps running towards me before a hand grabbing the front of my shirt rips me into the stampede and carries me away.

I try to scramble my way out of the mass, before darkness enshrouds me and completely blocks my view. A voice suddenly bellows from above me,

"Two men trying to protect you? You must be worth something." The mass parts like the red sea above me, peeling away a curtain of bodies to show a woman, floating above me. A slender woman with a low cut top, miniskirt and a long flowing black jacket, floated down towards me.

"I could have sworn Gojo and Geto were getting it on, but then I see him straddling you in that abandoned building, and I just thought....let me guess, Geto lets you share him on the weekends?" She smirked, tracing my jaw with a finger. I pull my face away and try to swipe at her, she laughs slightly and appears next to me,

"I wouldn't blame you yano, they're both so intoxicating aren't they! I can smell the aroma of love leaking from your pours, you're almost as in love as I am, now tell me....which one?" I lay back, trying to flick my legs out to kick her but with the bodies still moving under me, and her immense speed becoming even more apparent, I flail and nearly get sucked back under the mass supporting me.

"Lust. Leave her be. She's a newbie, a nobody." I hear Gojo's voice from the surrounding area, the woman lets out a flirtatious laugh and the mass slowly, dropping the support as I crash on the ground. As the mass dissipates, I suddenly feel a weight on my back, it's her, she's now sat on me.

"So you've succumbed to your urges and are straddling nobodies now are you, Gojo? I thought you had a little more restraint than that." She reaches down, starting to play with my hair. I try to roll over but then she appears, straddling me now.

"I mean, I wouldn't blame you, she's kinda cute... especially when she's scared." She leans forward and tries to press her lips onto mine, I fling my hand into her bright white hair and pull it from behind, forcing her to arch back up.

"Feisty too, I see why you like her." She giggles, slashing giant claws at my stomach and appearing instantly next to Gojo who now stands almost at my feet, lunging towards me. She reaches to grab him by the collar but her hand gets blocked by an invisible wall. She chuckles and gets forcefully pushed away as Gojo spins around and flicks his fingers in her direction.

Pulling me to my feet, he takes out a bandage from his back pocket and shoves it into my hands, forcefully.

"Fix yourself up, " he looks down at the blood pooling at our feet, "FUCK!" he grabs me, as I start to fall to my knees.

"it's not my blood Gojo!" I pant, desperately looking to see if his shirt is soaked in any way.

"Its..mine." Geto mumbles, dropped from above us to our feet. Large lacerations cover his chest and arms, as the woman laughs at her artwork lacing his body.

Gojos eyes widen as he suddenly grabs both me and Getos arms. Suddenly we were then flung into the car, as Gojo desperately orders ijichi to take us to Shoko. He slams the doors and we speed off. I try to help stop the bleeding from Getos chest as he pants that hes fine. I look back out the car window and see flashes of red and blue fill the sky.

"He'll be fine...he's bested her before. He always wins. That beautiful maniac always wins." Geto musters between pants as I try to apply pressure to his wounds. He lets his head drop back down as he passes out.

After Shoko meets us at the gates, and ijichi helps carry Geto to her office, she fixes us up. I only have minor bruising and scraps, so she focuses her attention on Geto who's significant bleeding doesn't slow. After an hour or so, she finally fixes him up and orders me away, I return to my room and flop on my bed, still terrified that Gojo was fighting that lady in the alleyway.

I jolt awake after having apparently passed out from exhaustion, to Gojo laying next to me, panting heavily, his beautiful white hair now strained with blood splatters. His shirt ripped open and trousers barely held on to his hips, as I automatically placed a hand on his chest.

"Such....a....bitch" he pants, barely able to control his breathing. I pull my hand away as he grabs it, putting it back in its place on him.

"Not you, idiot, that stupid bitch from before. She nearly got me a few times there, who the hell strips naked half way through a fight anyway?!" His annoyance seemed to disappear as he spoke, "kinda hot though so, can't really complain." He giggles, half opening an eye to look at me.

"Seeing her straddle you too, whilst trying to make out with you," he makes a chefs kiss pose with his hand to his lips, " now that's something I won't forget for awhile." His grin fades slowly as he starts to snore, he's clearly exhausted so I let him rest, pulling a blanket over him as he lay half sprawled across the bed on top of the duvet.

I slowly slide out of the bed and head to the kitchen area of the building to get him some water and food, when I turn around and drop the glass shattering on the floor. He stood leaning against the doorframe; his usual stance apparently now, with his shirt still undone, and now in his boxers which also barely clung to his hips, it seemed even the slightest breeze would make them fall to the floor revealing his manhood. His head hung lower and soft pants leaving his mouth.

"Don't leave me high and dry like that, I wanted to snuggle." Lifting his head slightly, he flashes a soft half smile at me.

"I...er..wanted to get you some food and...wait, snuggle?" I let out an embarrassed chuckle as I try to sweep the floor of the remaining glass shards. As I'm bent down I feel his back suddenly pressed against mine as he lays over me, his head over my shoulder,

"Carry me to bed. I'm tiiiired."

"if we weren't back to back I could, now get...off." I shove backwards getting him to stumble to his feet,

"HEY! I took care of you, now it's time to return the favour! I don't want Shoko touching me everywhere, scolding me for not being more careful, and for letting you and Geto get hurt, AGAIN."

"GETO! Is he okay?!" The worry in my voice apparently stirring something in him,

"Yeah yeah, your boyfriends fine. It'll take more than a pair of tits to bring him down. Well, now that I say that..." Jealousy lingers on his lips as he trails off, chuckling to himself.

"Oooo someones jealous." I tease, putting the shards in the bin and fixing him a new drink. "Now, let's get back and I can be your nurse this time." My face flusters as I actually said this out loud, instead of keeping it inside.

"My nurse ey?" He tilts his head and looks at me over his glasses, raising his eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

I try to hide my flustered face as I turn to walk out the door,

"C'mon now, time to change your adult diaper." I giggle, trying desperately to walk away from this awkward situation I had put myself in.

"Nah, I think it's time for a bubble bath. You proooooomised."

Getting back to my room, he flops on the bed face down and lets out an exhausted long moan. I perch next to him and trace my fingers up and down his back, comforting him.

"Mmmmmm... Up a bit, left a bit, down a bit, yeeeeeeeah" he shudders, directing my light tickles. He spins around and as I pull away, he places my hand back on his abdomen and lets out a needy 'hmm' as he drags my hand up and down frantically, implying he wants me to do the same but to his front now. As I try to copy the patterns I did on his back, I can't help but trace the indentations of his abs, terrified of tracing a little too close to his pelvis.

"You're allowed to go lower y'know, I don't bite. Not when I'm this exhausted anyway." He lets out a soft chuckle as he keeps his eyes closed and flings an arm over his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, I bet I am." I tease, circling back round to the top half of his stomach. He grabs my hand and slowly starts to drag it lower.

"Can you do it there for me please? It kinda tickles." He leads my hand so I'm tracing over his hips, just an inch away from where his waist band sits. I can feel the nervousness rise in my body as I'm practically glowing red now. I feel a throbbing sensation take over my body. I pull my hand away and sit back slightly, clearly uncomfortable with this new sensation filling me to the brim. He pulls his arm slightly up from his right eye, sleepily peering out at me,

"Not like it? That's fine, sorry I asked." He lets his arm fall back over his eye.

"It's not...nevermind." I make my way to the top of the bed and climb under the duvet, careful not to kick him in the top of the head as I wiggle my legs under. He sits up and climbs himself under the duvet too, he needily forces his head under my arm and cuddles to my chest.

"Mmmm. Now I get to be the little koala." His head nestles between my boobs as he sinks into me, I immediately feel my chest start to race.

"Y'alright? Sounds like you've run a marathon." He sleepily exhales, as he snuggles closer into my chest, almost suffocating himself.

"Hmhm." I muster, trying to control my breathing. Was he blissfully unaware that he was nearly suffocating, or did he genuinely just not care? I lay my head back and continue to trace my fingers along his back as he nestles into me.

"Can you even breathe in there?" I chuckle, looking down at him, my boobs covering his nose and mouth almost entirely. He nestles deeper into his chest, almost pushing me back further into the mattress. A muffled 'mmhmm' comes from his mouth. His arm drapes across my waist as he comes up for air, his white hair a mess covering most of his face.

"Built in cushions, you're lucky yano that!"

"Well I can't exactly use them myself now can I?" I giggle, looking down at him all doey eyed and sleepy.

"True, my bad." He nestles down back into them, "more for me then." He says muffled, back into the 'built in pillows'.

I lay my head back and softly chuckle, as I feel his hand move slowly towards my hips. So slow infact, for a second I assumed I was making it up, but as I realize he is indeed moving, my legs tighten together. He lets out a soft laughing exhale and flattens his warm hands on my waist band.

"Don't worry, I'm only teasing." He muffled, still content with barely being able to breathe.

"I'll let you wiggle if you want me to carry on." Suddenly I am incredibly aware of every muscle in my body, instinctively I try not to move, thoughts racing through my mind.

"Oh yeah, a thinker." He giggles to himself. I lightly tap the back of his head in annoyance, and a low annoyed 'mmm' comes from him.

"I wouldn't want to take advantage of a poor, injured boy." I say, flustered, terrified to let him know my body now physically aching for him to continue.

"Poor? Boy?" He lifts his head up slightly, looking up at me with his eyes half open. "Poor? Definitely not. Boy? Even less likely. " He pushes his hand slightly harder onto my waistband. As I sharply inhale, he lets out a low giggle and smiles to himself.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what I thought." He says, flopping his head back down onto the suffocating mound of my chest.

Almost instinctively my hips move slightly, my body defying my mind, and he slowly moves his pinkie finger so it rests slightly underneath the elastic band of my pants. I sharply inhale as he slowly continues to move the rest of his hand lower and lower into my pants.

He begins to leg his middle finger slide down into my creases, applying the slightest twing of pressure on my clit. I jolt and he giggles, inhaling my scent, he pushes his head harder into my chest, as I feel his mouth open slightly. As he begins to slowly circle my clit, I feel him softly kissing my chest, I grab the bedsheet with my other hand and squeeze tightly almost pulling it off the side of the mattress. Getting faster with his circling, I arch my back and feel euphoria fill my body, as he slides his fingers down and teases the entrance to my pussy. I let out a slight moan as I grind into his hand, he lifts his head and starts to push his hips into the side of me. Kissing my neck, he slowly enters a finger into me, his long appendage reaching places I never could, and I feel him press on the spongey button I was completely unaware was inside me. A sharp exhale leaves me breathless as I grab the back of his hair. Sliding teasingly slowly into and out of me, I feel his other hand reach down as he starts to rub his cock. A low growling 'mmmm' leaves his closed lips as he starts to turn my hips towards him, I feel him get faster with his thrusts, each time pressing harder and harder inside me. As he quickens, I feel him rubbing the tip of his head onto my clit, up and down slowly teasing me with soaking wet I already am. I grab his hand and pull it from me, and as I do so, he reaches round to grab my hips and pulls me closer to him.

Reaching down he guides his precum glistening head to the entrance of my pussy and stops, teasing me. He reaches down to grab my thigh and pulls it so it's now hooked over the top of his hip as we face each other. He nudges his chin on top of my head, to get me to look up at him, as his glassy lips softly meet mine. Before embracing he whispers into my open mouth,

"Tell me to do it." His low voice almost heavenly whispering to me. "Tell me to put it in you. Tell me to fuck you. T,tell me."

"P,please. Please fuck me. I need to feel you." I beg. And as this escapes my lips, me thrusts his throbbing head into me.

"Think you can take it?" He proudly asks, holding the back of my neck with his hand.

"Make it fit, make me take it." I instruct, completely dickdrunk already, before he's even done anything to me really. He lets out a devious exhale and his smirk widens, as he pulls me closer to him, thrusting deeper into me.

With a sharp inhale, I now see what he means, barely half way in and I'm already struggling to breathe. I swear he's about to rearrange my womb to my throat at this rate. He starts to thrust in and out of me, slowly at first, trying to inch more and more of himself inside of me, before I dip my heel into the back of his hip, and pull him all the way in. We both gasp at the sheer pleasure of his now soft pubes meeting my clit, as he then pushes me to my back and presses his hand next to head onto the mattress. Holding onto my thigh with his other hand, he begins to thrust his cock deep inside me, each thrust filling me up like he's trying to push the air from my lungs. With each thrust, my moans become louder and longer, he shoves his tongue into my mouth as we begin to moan between flicks. He sits back and puts my leg over his shoulder, one hand on my lower stomach and the other around my throat, he now begins to pick up the pace.

"Say it. Say my name. Let everyone know who's pussy this is." He grunts, digging his nails into the ankle he's holding.

"Sat...Sat...Saturo...It's...yours...I'm yours.." I gasp, desperately trying to get my brain to form any coherent words. Pounding harder and harder, I can feel every vein, every muscle contracting inside of me, he lets go of my throat and slaps me across the face.

"Yeah, that's right, let everyone hear...you're fucking Gojo, the greatest sorcerer in the world. And you're going to have his cum leaking out of you for days." Grunting, sweat dropping down his Adams apple onto me, I open my mouth to taste it.

"Oh, you wanna TASTE me now do you?" He smirks, "Well, if I wasn't so hellbent on cumming inside of you, I would've let you taste all of me." He grabs my face, and thrusts slower, deeper inside of me. I feel him swell bigger with each longer thrust, as he releases his hot cum inside of me, failing slightly closer to me, he catches his fall with his arm placed next to me.

He lets out a low giggle as he stays inside me, his white hair dripping wet with sweat, strewn across his face.

"Well," he pants, "I'm sure everyone now knows who's pussy this is." Closing my eyes I let out a laugh between deep pants, and moan and a quiet 'yeah' from my lips.

He pulls himself out me, a string of cum still connecting his head to my pussy, he flops next to me. Both frantically panting, he looks over at me and a sweet smile grows on his face.

"Yano, I could do better. Give me five and I'll try again." He chases the sweat dripping in-between my chest down to my belly button, and slaps the tiny pool of sweat gathered there. I flinch and swat his hand away.

"I'm barely conscious as is, how about 10?" I mumble, barely able to keep my eyes open.

He climbs back ontop of me, cock still hard, he leans in close to my ear and whispers,

"I meant seconds."

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: Valor's Refute

Past a wall of mist and into the bleak morass of the shadowfell there is a dreary and foreboding isle inhabited by the spirits of those who could not relinquish their blades, so driven by persistence and duty that they could not even rest in death.

Their armoured shades wander the isle's endless halls or stand sentinel over its crumbling, hollow gates, obeying long forgotten oaths to nations and sovereigns they can no longer recall. Some others find a corner in which to collapse in torpor, while others crash through the cavernous ruins, exhausting themselves in battle after pyrrhic battle.

Valor's Refute is not a haven or a hell, it is a purgatory, a place of slow forgetting and inevitable dissolution.... or atleast it would be if over the ages a bunch of darkness dabbling gods and mages didn't independently arrive at the idea that a labyrinthine shadow world full of memory eroding mist could double as a great vault, just as its the ever vigilant and honourbound inhabitants make for incorruptible guards. And so dotted throughout the solemn halls of Valor's Refute are traps and puzzles intended to safeguard artifacts deemed too precious or dangerous to entrust to mortal or material hideaways.

Challenges & Complications

Suffused with the waters of the river Lethe, Valor's Refute is cloaked in a chilling mist that imparts those it touches with lethargy and forgetfulness. Effects are minor at first, but a party can easily take a wrong turn and end up fighting through a fogbank for what turns out to be hours or plunging into the icy water that saps them of a whole day's strength. These effects are best tracked through my attrition system, available HERE.

While exploring the evertwisting corridors, the party encounter the ghost of Ser Zagaver, a knight errant who died uncovering a terrible secret regarding a great evil working in the shadows of the campaign. Having been unable to warn anyone of the unseen danger, she needs the party to swear to carry on her message, and she's willing to force them at the edge of swordpoint. If the party renege on their deal, or get too distracted with ongoing matters, they can expect to be haunted by an enranged ghost-knight until they're steered back on course.

A voice stirs the dreams of those who sleep on the isle, compelling them to seek it out and teasing at their hearts' desire. This voice originates in one of the dungeon's deeper vaults, and belongs to a cursed item known as the "chalice of want". Once the weddingcup of a pair of prideful demigods who later betrayed eachother, it grants those that drink from it visions of how their ambitions may come to pass. Such tastes of future glory are addictive, to say nothing of how dangerous the foreknowledge it grants may be in the hands of the wrong entities.

Art 1

Art 2

[pinkmadnessing]

Entheogen, Ch.1: ✨ Curious Little Thing

(EDIT: I'm on chapter 5 now :3)

Just dropped the first chapter of my very own HDG story, Entheogen, with a huge shoutout to my partner (and Mistress) @hotghostshibari for their help writing Myconia! This story follows a burnt out corporate xenobiologist who finds her way into the vines of an equally neurodivergent plant who, for some mysterious reason, has mushrooms instead of flowers! Will she learn to see the world with wonder again? Will she get florted? Will she get absolutely slammed down by a giant mushroom womanthing? Come find out :3 CW: noncon drugging, anxiety, deadnaming, xenophobia

18+ only, minors DNI, as always. https://archiveofourown.org/works/61809625/chapters/158043616

Full first chapter beneath the cut, thread in betas in the hdg discord if you'd like to talk to me about it, please enjoy!

Hurried voices echoed through the corridors of the Corben Bioworks corporate survey vessel, CBS Rains of Proxima, occasionally joined by the mechanical accompaniment of doors sealing, weapons being readied, and controls being toggled. They were the sounds of a ship preparing for battle, something Madii Lunae had hoped to never experience. She glanced nervously up from her screens as multiple crew members glided past her door, held aloft by the microgravity of near-interstellar space. She lowered her gaze back down to the screen mounted on her desk, reading and re-reading the ship wide alert at the same time the comm’s officer came over the intercom. 

'RED ALERT. RED ALERT. ALL CREWMEMBERS PREPARE FOR MILITARY ACTION. XENO WARSHIP SPOTTED NEAR EDGE OF SYSTEM. EVASIVE MANEUVERS ENGAGED' 

Madii swallowed nervously and fiddled with the magnetic stylus on her desk. Even in microgravity, her leg twitched up and down rapidly as her head filled with anxiety. The ship was supposed to be a research vessel, stars, it was literally in her contract from Corben Bioworks that they couldn’t use any of the weapons on board. And yet here they were. She guessed the dissolution of government and outlawing of corporations made those contracts not really matter anymore, but the same now went for the contracts guaranteeing her safety. 

“I can't just float here” Madii mumbled to herself, not really realizing she said it out loud. She grabbed hold of the handle on her desk and used it to push herself across her lab, or at least it was the room that used to be her lab. Over the past few months her lab, along with all others on the ship, had been hastily retrofitted to act as a medical bay and the scientists within them as medics. Where tanks of alien flora and shelves of xenobiological catalogs once stood, now sat cots and monitors, prepared to take on any crewmember who gets injured while fighting the Affini threat. Not that they’ve gotten any reports of ships being attacked and making it out with crew in the first place. 

Madii glided across the room to the small viewport on the space-side wall of her office and gripped the handles under it to stabilize herself. She looked out past the array of antennae on the side of the ship to see a larger part of Gliese, the binary system they had been orbiting on the edge of. They had hoped that the xenos wouldn't check a largely uninhabited jumpthrough system. 

They were wrong. 

In the far distance, illuminated by the red glow of the sputtering twin suns, hung a pink starburst shape. It was practically glowing against the void behind it. Stars, how could they have missed that? Madii felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had never seen an Affini ship in person, and she could only help but wonder what horrific monsters were glaring back at her from across the darkness.

-

Myconia glanced passively through the window of Its office. It wondered what could be going on on that little ship as it no doubt suddenly made signal contact with the Bromelia. It, unlike the little terran across the void, was not panicking. It was gazing out the window with one eye while focusing the other three on an otoscope currently deep in an adorable little floret who had complained to her owner of ear pain.

“Yeah, seems to be a common side effect of the Class-M’s she’s on, especially with Terrans with a predisposition for patulous eustachian tubes.” Myconia said, speaking over the girl’s head at the Affini behind her. “Something to do with prolonged slackening of the muscles around it. There’s some specialists on Summer Station researching it right now, I’m sure it’ll be fixed soon. I’d suggest a week long Class-M detox, and I’ll have some heavy Class-H’s ready at the front desk. You’ll be able to ‘doll her out’ with them, but it won’t be as rigid.” Myconia said, looking down at the little blushing Terran who was trying her very best to stay still, despite the constant twitching and stimming. Myconia pulsed the glow of the large mushroom caps on Its head in a soothing pattern, helping the little cutie slacken a bit. “Does that sound okay, little one?” 

The girl smiled sheepishly up at It, knowing exactly what to say after being asked a question she didn’t even hear. “Yes, Miss Myconiaaa” She said, twisting back and forth in her skirt adorably. “Good girl.” Myconia said, patting the floret with a vine and slipping a lollypop packed with Class-A into the little stoner’s mouth. The owner smiled, picking up her rapidly melting pet and giving Myconia a few words of thanks. The pair left just as a notification appeared on one of Its office monitors.

“Terran cuties located and locked on!! We’ll have them in our loving vines in no time! Please prepare for grapple and boarding action!!” The screen read out in scrolling Affini glyphs.

Myconia made the sound It learned from being around Terrans so much, a sigh, it was called. It let a quick breeze ruffle through Its vines and dimmed Its fluorescent mushroom-dotted body, as if to display a release of energy. A new rebel ship means more Terrans rescued, but it also meant first time pet owners, and that meant more ‘what should I do if my pet swallowed this-or-that’ questions. Myconia finished the paperwork of the pet It just treated, and filed a request for the strongest Class-Hs they had on vine. After a quick moment of enjoying the feeling of a happy pet well cared for, It switched the feed on Its monitor to the adorable floret hobby video about zen gardens It was previously watching. It reached with a few fine tendrils and drug a little rake across the sand in the small desk box. Myconia loved these cute little Terran things, they were so useful for detangling after a long day. Just as It was finally starting to relax, Its mushroom dotted vines gently uncoiling around the base of the chair, a second notification from the ship’s consciousness appeared on Its screen. “Apologies everyone!! Seems like the little ‘Free Terran’ ;;;;;) cuties have spotted us, and are attempting to flee. We’ll be entering hyperspace for a moment so we can pounce on em! Please brace your florets, and thank you for your understanding!!"

-

Madii gasped, eyes wide, and pushed back from the window. She blinked a couple times, rubbed her eyes, and pulled herself close again. The ship just vanished. It winked out of the void right as she was looking at it! Had it gone into hyperspace? It couldn’t have! Cosmic Navy ships jump with noticeable lensing as they tear through spacetime. From straight on, the Affini ship seemed to simply shrink to a point and vanish from the void, as if it had never been there in the first place. Could they have gone? Maybe they didn’t see the ship and they left. Madii’s mind flooded with possible explanations, spinning its wheels until it was interrupted by a blaring intercom. 

“RED ALERT. RED ALERT. LOSS OF VISUAL CONTACT WITH XENO VESSEL” Madii twitched at the sudden loud noise, but quickly began to move. She had been so bored during her first weeks on board that she had actually read the ship’s protocol manual. She might have been the only one, including the captain, to have done so. “ENGAGE SAFETY HARNESS AND PREPARE FOR EVASIVE MANEUVERS AND HYPERMETRIC KICK IMMEDIATELY”

As the message finished, Madii glanced across the room and pushed off the wall, headed towards one of the many harnesses across the ship. As she passed her desk, she nabbed a medical tablet off its magnetic mount, tucking it under her arm while she flew. She had landed against the harness on the opposite wall and strapped herself in. As the belts clicked into place, she felt the rapid flow of panic swelling up in her mind. She hated the feeling of hypermetric kicks, but hated the idea of falling into the Affini’s grip even more. She needed to calm down, she told herself, hyperventilating would fix nothing. In fact, hyperventilating was exactly what you weren’t supposed to do during a hypermetric kick, and jumps always hit her gut particularly hard. Needing a distraction, she decided to focus on the tablet. Her eyes flowed over every biometric readout on the ship. Nothing out of the ordinary, of course, other than a collectively increased heart rate among the crew. Madii closed her eyes as she felt her head start to spin with anxiety. 

“It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.” She repeated to herself, trying to pull in the reins on her spiraling mind. It didn’t work.

-

At nearly the same moment the notification appeared on Myconia’s screen, it heard little gasps from the Terrans outside Its office. The small pockets of air between sand particles collapsed, and the whole pattern of the zen garden broke down. 

“They really should warn us earlier about that. Poor little things get spooked every time.” It grumpled to Itself before shaking the sand flat and starting again. As It started to rake, a small drop down opened on Its screen, a readout of information about the Terran ship currently being trapped. ‘Terran Megacorporate Survey Corvette, 170 meters, two rotational rings..’ It had heard concerning rumors about Terrans coming out of megacorp ships. Just as bad as the military ships, with Terrans coming with crushed souls rather than hyperferalist ideologies. For the sake of the little sophonts on board, It hoped they were just rumors.

-

A monotone whirr began to fill the emptying corridors of the Rains of Proxima as the jump drive began to spin up, preparing to launch a spear of exotic matter through space and time. Madii squinted her eyes and cringed preemptively. She always hated this part. “PREPARE FOR HYPERMETRIC JUMP.” The navigator’s voice called out over the intercom, which was growing increasingly staticky as the ship’s electric fields began to warp with space. “JUMPING IN T-MINUS… 5.. 4.. 3.. T-” A gasp came over the intercom, accompanied by the sound of everyone else in Madii’s hallway gasping. She herself, already cringing, jolted in her harness as the kick hit her like a punch to her sternum and her stomach cramped. She wasn’t ready for that. That happened early. Why did it happen early. Madii forced her eyes open, wiping tears that microgravity formed into bubbles. As soon as she did, she let out a gasp and looked around, eyes wide. The ship's lights were completely off, as if someone had just flicked the switch off. The darkness of the ship allowed a cascade of crimson Gleitian light to paint the inside of Madii’s lab. The normally sterile walls of the ship illuminated only in red had an eerie sort of alien beauty that Madii had scarcely seen before, if she wasn’t gasping for air, she might have taken a moment to appreciate it. “J-JUMPING!” The worried voice of the navigator broke Madii out of her thoughts. Wait, that wasn’t our jump? The ship shook as the suddenly very loud jump drive unleashed its payload, tearing a hole in space that would.. Wait.. Madii looked around rapidly. The room was still bathed in crimson light. Why didn’t she feel anything? Where was the kick? “What’s going on Micheals?” The voice of the Captain barked, still sharp through the muffled intercom. It’s clear the navigator didn’t turn off his mic. 

“d-don’t know sir. I initiated the rump, ‘says the drive released the payload. I don’t d-d- .. oh… STARS IT’S HU—” The navigator’s voice suddenly cut out as the intercom filled with static and the ship shook against her back. She had to squint as the sterile lights suddenly winked back on and looked around the room for some semblance of understanding. Madii untucked her tablet from under her arm and stared at it, eyes flicking wildly about the screen. Dozens of error messages filled a panel on the side. No injuries reported, but huge sections of the ship were marked with red, indicating catastrophic damage. She fumbled to unhook her harness, flew back to the widow, and moved her head around, trying to use every angle through the small window. There was nothing out of the ordinary in her limited field of view, other than the presence of the Gleitian suns and the distant sta-

Madii froze in shock. In almost the same moment she turned her attention to the twin stars, a massive, spiked tendril shot up between them and her. Madii reeled in horror as the vine cast a dark shadow over her face. Oh stars. Oh fuck. The Compact has arrived.

-

Myconia heard the characteristic excited shuffle of second and third blooms rushing past Its office, all making a butterflyline towards the tunnel to the bay the Terran ship was being docked at. It shuddered a groan and pretended to roll Its eyes, an expression It very much liked borrowing from the cuties around It. As much as It might enjoy taking care of Terran patients, It had never really found the right sophont to domesticate, and this far into the Terran Pacification, a new ship meant more medical processing and less researching, rather than an opportunity for adoption. Its friends always looked at It with pity in a way It detested when It expressed such feelings, but It told Itself they were the consequences of Its dedication to Its work. Sacrifices for discovery, eh?

All the introspection was making Myconia wish It had something to focus on decomposing. It tapped on Its tablet a few times until It found a suggestion for the pizza place (adorably named ‘Petperroni’) a team of Beeple had started after becoming fascinated with Terran cuisine. Its next appointment wasn’t for 80 Terran minutes so It tapped through a few options and placed the order. A little graphic of a dancing Beeple spinning a sign that said “Thanks for ordering!!” appeared on Its screen, drawing a small smile from the Affini.

-

Madii’s mind was moving at a million meters a minute. She stared, jaw held open in horror, as the massive tendril stretched up and over the ship before tightening around it. Bending metal whined as it struggled under the weight of the vine constricting around the ship. A massive impact shook the ship around her, jolting her hands which were wrapped tightly around a rung. The slam was followed by another, and another, and another, each impact seeming closer and closer. Madii looked back at the hallway, searching for the source of the sound, only to realize it was far too late. The world seemed to slow down around her as the hallway floor deformed as it was skewered from underneath. The metal tore at the panel seams like paper ripping, and a massive vine, evidently what forced its way through the hull, rocketed up to the ceiling, piercing a hole through the ceiling with just as much speed. Madii barely had time to scream before her voice was drowned out by the deafening roar of the void. The vine had punched holes in the hull, and the pull of space on the ship’s breached atmosphere was suddenly rapidly dragging out anything not bolted down. Unfortunately for Madii, she was not bolted down.

-

Myconia glanced at her monitor’s calendar. It watched in real time as various Affini started pre-booking examinations for their expected new florets. Maybe volunteering for this time slot as an auxiliary veterinarian was a bit too much of a workload, It considered. It was itching to focus on Its own research, but nothing short of adopting a floret would get it out of this commitment. 

“Knock knock, bookannelid, mind pulling your antennae out of your communicator for a moment?” A familiar, tinkling voice spoke from the door, accompanied by the quiet rapping of wood on alloy. A slightly shorter, tightly wound Affini stood in the doorway, the friend of Myconia’s whom It initially offered to help at the clinic, Alphira Datura, 18th bloom. Alphira was formed from a tightly bound, luscious green cluster of vines, with small white flowers blooming across her body. In her current form, she had positioned the flowers to paint in her details, from expressive eyebrows to flashing eyelashes to flowing hair. She stepped into Myconia’s office without asking, half walking and half gliding across the floor. When she spoke, her voice sounded younger and sharper sounding despite her comparative age. She smiled sheepishly as she broached the topic yet again. She was the one heading up the medical on-boarding after all, she usually got first pick of the litter, as the Terrans said.

“Listen, I know you’ve said a hundred times that you aren’t interested in having a floret of your own, but I was looking through the manifest of this adorable little ship we just vined, -did you see that it was a science vessel?- Anyway, I found this cutie. I know what you’re going to say, but please, just look it over.” She spoke quickly, handing Myconia a tablet with a Terran Accord personnel file on it. “For its sake, if not your own."

-

The howl of naked void rang in Madii’s ears as she was sucked across the office and clawed uselessly against the flat lab floor. The world continued to move in seeming slow motion as she looked ‘down’ toward the void that pulled her closer and closer. She saw the handle on the door ahead of her and reached out to grab it as she slid past. Madii let out a yelp as her hands slammed against the handle and gripped as tight as she could. She could feel her nails digging into her palms as she held for dear life while styluses, bottles, and anything else not in containers got sucked through the holes and away from her sight. Madii saw her tablet slam against the wall next to the door, but by sheer luck it managed to get wedged against the raised edge of the door. Eyes stinging from the wind, hear pounding in her head, she turned her head upward to gaze through the hole in the ship. 

She could see the endless blackness of space, dotted by the occasional star. This was her first time ever seeing naked void. Oh shit. People rarely, if ever, survive encounters with space, even in this century. She was going to die. She was going to die, wasn’t she? Her mind began to spiral, her thoughts spinning towards the void like a whirlpool in her head. She couldn’t bring herself to look any longer and tightly closed her eyes. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. She was going to wake up any second she was going to be okay it was all going to be okay please she didn’t want to die she didn’t want to die she-

Madii’s spiraling train of thought abruptly stopped in tandem with the cessation of the roaring wind. Had she died without realizing it? It almost seemed like the ship had re-sealed. She slowly opened her eyes, only to find her gaze met by a trio of fellow crewmates, all in some sort of holding-on-for-dear-life position. Two were across the hall, Lila and Johnny, visible from around the side of the vine, and the third was her coworker in the lab over, Vanessa, a stuffy girl who's usually straight black hair was now messed up and wind-blown. The four Terrans shared worried looks as their minds tried to catch up with their circumstance. It was Vanessa who spoke first, nodding to the tablet that was now floating behind Madii in the disarrayed lab. 

“M-Milo, you have the readout. What’s going on?” The rattled looking astrogeologist asked Madii. For some reason, amidst all this, her head still caught on those four, cursed letters. She didn’t even have time to be frustrated at herself. She nodded and turned in microgravity towards the tablet, but as she went to reach for it something she hadn’t seen in months began to happen. The tablet, however slowly, fell to the ground.

-

Myconia mocked another sigh and turned toward the door, smiling with amusement. It took the tablet in a few vines and gave it a once over. The Terran’s name was Milo Lunae, a young adult, scored quite a bit higher on flimsy Terran intelligence tests and even published a paper on potential xenobiological medical advancements when it was at something called ‘Corben Institute of Biology’. As a nice plus, Alphira wasn’t kidding, it was pretty frosting cute.

“Fine, fine, I’ll go look with you, but I’ve told you I’ve never found the right floret and you know that.” It said, rising to Its full height and putting Its screens to sleep with a wave of a vine. It left a little note and a lollypop for the pizza delivery floret, and the two Affini exited the veterinary and joined the bustle of prospect owners moving towards the smaller petal-side hangers. It was a part of the ship Myconia rarely spent time in, as most of Its excursions were to the microgravity labs that line the ship’s stem. It glanced down at the tablet occasionally, reading about all the sophont’s little quirks and irregularities that it received write-ups for.

-

Madii and her crewmates slowly floated down to the floor of the ship, once again sharing concerned looks as gravity inexplicably reasserted itself. As her legs touched the floor, Madii felt the strain of momentum pushing against her like she hadn’t in months, and it took her a second to remember how to stand. She carefully pushed herself off the new ground on wobbly legs and grabbed the tablet off the floor. Her eyes grew wide as she stared down at the flimsy screen. The hull was reporting damage it shouldn’t be able to survive, and yet, the atmospheric readings were nominal. No, not just nominal, actually, better than that! The readings more resembled the scans of carboniferous worlds with plant scrubbed, oxygen rich atmospheres than a choked survey vessel.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Madii says out loud to herself and her coworkers. She raised her eyes to see the confused look on her crewmates faces and answered their question before they could ask. “It’s.. It’s like we’re in the middle of a rainforest.” She said hesitantly. “And I don’t know where to start about the grav..” Madii’s voice trailed off as a warm, sweet smelling, humid breeze wafted over the group. Her crewmates, who had all also pulled themselves to their feet, took reflexive deep breaths of the refreshing air. It was much better than the stale, headache-inducing near 20% atmosphere they had been breathing. Madii’s thoughts began to rapidly spin up as she watched her crew fill their lungs.

-

“So how’d you figure out about this little thing?” Myconia asked her companion, still reading about the Terran while sidestepping the line of potential owners with Alphira’s clearance. The pair had followed the crowd into a tunnel that led to the outside of the rotating petal arcology they lived on, where docks suspended rows of ships above the lazily shifting void. Most of the ships here were of Terran or Rinan design, as the Bromelia’s grasping tendrils deposited their catch here, rather than the larger main stem hanger.

“I was searching through the archives of their ship, looking for anything that stood out. It’s a little survey ship from some megacorp, so there’s lots of planetary scans for the Neoxenoveterinary Archeobureaucrats to pour over. I did, however, notice a note from their Captain about acquiring a new biologist for their survey missions. Apparently the ship searched for new planets to exploit. Positively primitive if you ask me.” The shorter Affini scoffed and ruffled her leaves slightly. The pair of plants reached the hanger just as the vine-pierced ship was being hauled into place. A large wood lined screen by the start of the dock displayed readings of the ship; All lifeforms stabilized, no casualties, and proceeding as usual. Large pink words in curling Affini glyphs slid across the screen. 

‘RELEASING ATMOSPHERIC PACIFIER’

“Well, we haven’t had a Terran scientist here that wasn’t traumatized into believing that ‘for the greater good’ rubbish in a while, so if this Terran is the exception I’ll be glad to meet it.” Myconia said, looking deeper into the file. The Terran had multiple therapist visits and reprimands from captains for things that, the more It looked at them, simply seemed like signs of the rather limited Terran term ‘neurodiversity’. Myconia felt a little bad as It read, then a lot bad. This wasn’t the way It usually felt about sophonts. Though It couldn’t put a vine on why. It felt not just pity, not just the will to help, but the physical need to help. ���Alright, you win, Alphira.” It chuckled, vines twitching slightly as It began to mentally prepare for what was to come. “I can’t believe it, but I’ll see em. At least for their initial checkup.”

-

Something wasn’t right. Madii watched her friends take deep breaths. Something wasn’t right about this at all. Madii took shallow breaths of the saccharine air as she looked down at the tablet again. Why would a hostile alien force give them air? “Guys, I’m not sure we should be..” Her mind rapidly ran through a hundred possible options as she spoke, right up until the moment she spotted it: A flashing alert in the life support panel. “WARNING. UNKNOWN AEROSOLIZED XENOLOGICAL COMPOUND. SEEK BREATHING APPARATUS IMMEDIATELY.”

Madii’s eyes grew wide as she stared at the screen. All at once, crew biometrics were beginning to wink out, as though they were all going to sleep at once. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Oh stars. Madii raised her eyes right as Vanessa, now with a huge smile on her face, collapsed to the ground with a thud. The other two of her coworkers gasped in horror as the woman dropped, then each began to look drowsy as well. “DON’T BREATH!! HOLD YOUR BREATH! HOLD YOUR-” Madii shouted, but it was too late. She had already turned away before she heard their bodies hit the ground. She clapped a hand over her mouth and pinched her nose shut as she felt a slight tipsiness at the edges of her mind. She stumbled across the room, legs struggling to adapt to the new gravity, to a panel on the wall with a gas mask symbol below the Corben Bioworks logo that had been ever present in her life. She slammed it open, almost knocking it off its hinges, and yanked the gas mask off it’s clamp. She pulled the mask over her face and breathed out to clear the diaphragm. It was just like the diving regulators she had read about in preparation for her imagined future as an intrepid explorer, and each consecutive breath felt less and less stuffy through the filter. Once she was confident the mask wouldn’t suffocate her, she looked out to the hall and passed out Terrans on the floor. Tiny, scintillating specks were now drifting through the warm air, swirling in little sparkling vortexes as the breeze from above spread it around the ship. It was probably the toxin that had knocked out her crew, her anxious mind told her, and this time it was probably right.

Madii silently cursed herself as her mind added yet another horrifying realization onto the pile: She had left her pistol in her bunk. It wasn’t like she had wanted the weapon, the rebels had practically forced it into her hands when they took control of the ship, but that was before she felt the alien menace breathing down her neck. Now that she was alone, her mind swam unbidden toward the horrifying future. Her crewmates were dropping all around her and she had no way to fight off the coming swarm of surely ravenous xenos. She tried to remember everything the rebels had barked about the Affini. They would tear her apart, they would melt her mind with drugs, they would send her to the mines, they would.. they… Wait a minute.. Why did the air smell so sweet?

-

“Ahh!! That’s so exciting!!” Alphira cooed, shaking her lush foliage quickly, mimicking the way Terran florets shiver when they get all excited. “I finally did it, I, Alphira Datura, finally broke the great and stoic Myconia!” She giggled and nudged Myconia goadingly with a loose bundle of vines. She tapped a few times on her tablet, then grinned at It. “I’ll have a medical room prepped for you and your little scientist to get to know each other. You know how feisty the sharp ones can be- or,” She paused with a knowing smile. “You’ll find out!”

At just that moment, the dark screen above the door flashed with a cheerful, bright pink message. It seemed like Myconia’s cue.

“PACIFICATION COMMENCING AS EXPECTED!! BOARDING MAY NOW BEGIN!!”

It rolled all four of Its eyes at Alphira and shuffled Its leaves in exaggerated annoyance, before pulling Itself along the dock toward the ship alongside a fair few other Affini, all of whom probably had similarly specific sophonts in mind. One by one, they slipped and slithered through the vine-punctured hull. The ship was cramped, sterile white and reflective, with no pizzaz or decor. It had seen sets like this in Terran media, but It hadn't actually believed that they’d really force themselves to work and live in structures as tight and dull as this. How could anyone work in a place like this, let alone live in it? It looked down cramped corridors and into utilitarian bunks as It moved, looking for Its sophont of choice. Ah, there it is. Myconia paused at a hall that had once been labeled “0-G Sample Labs”, but had since been christened “MEDBAY 3” in hastily scribbled, oily ink.

-

Madii’s eyes widened as she breathed the sweet smelling air through the mask. Her head had almost shaken off the fog of her first breaths, but it suddenly started to get fuzzy again. Was the gas mask broken? Oh stars. Oh stars oh shit oh fuck. Her breath started to quicken, and as much as she recognized that she shouldn’t be hyperventilating poison air, she couldn’t stop the panic from taking over her. Her suspicions were all but confirmed as scintillating specks floated up into the face portion of the mast. The cheap mask was probably never designed to work in the first place. Probably some cost saving measure so the corporate higher-ups could afford another bonus. 

“Ohhhhh fffuck youuuuu Corbenn” Madii groaned, watching pixies swirl around the mask as she breathed out. Wait, what was she doing? Why was she watching the little sparkly things instead of.. instead.. Oh.. my… She slumped forward and pushed the faulty mask up her face as she leaned on her hand. She looked up with lidded, rapidly glazing over eyes as a massive, nightmarish abomination of green and blue shapes swayed into the room through her blurred vision. A little drool dripped from her mouth as she watched the xeno approach, and Myconiai thought it looked quite cute. “YoU aRe MiLo, CoRrEcT?” It asked, trying to make Its voice as soothing as possible. It stepped forward towards the Terran, tilting Its head slightly as It watched the little thing slump. The Terran looked absolutely adorable, but It could tell that the cramped conditions had not been kind to it. “i CaN gEt YoU oUt Of ThE gAs, If YoU dOn’T fIgHt Me.” It said softly. “OtHeRwIsE, i’Ll HaVe To LeT tHe PaCiFiEr Do ItS jOb.” It sighed and outstretched a vine. Myconia let Itself hope a little, but It had doubts that were quickly confirmed.

A shiver shot through Madii as the monster said her ‘name.’ Its voice was melodious, but in an incongruent way, like It was speaking in time with a tune she couldn’t hear. She flinched weakly away from the dark shape of the daemon’s grasping vine.

Myconia watched her eyes lazily unfocus and the mask fully slip off her face. Dirt, the Terran’s head fur was gorgeous, even if a bit matted and more than a little in need of a proper wash. It doubted that this ship had anything close to a proper grooming station. “PlEaSe, I wIlL nOt HuRt YoU.”

Madii’s limbs were growing heavy and her head was starting to wobble. She groaned quietly, using all her willpower to push words to her lips. “Fffuu.. xxxeno…” She mumbled to the monster's disappointment. Good. She was glad It was disappointed. She wouldn’t give in. Her eyes drooped. This couldn’t be it. This wouldn’t be it. She wouldn’t let It take her. She wouldn’t be like those thoughtless puppets she had heard about.. She wouldn’t.. She.. 

The curious little thing mumbled something incoherent before fully slackening in its seat, a display of sheer adorability that brought a sad smile to Myconia’s face. It couldn’t bring Itself to part with the little feral. To the dirt with consequences, It couldn’t leave the poor thing like this. With a little extra willpower, It forced Itself forward, gently wrapping Its vines around the Terran’s body before hefting it into the air with ease.

Madii’s world darkened from the edges, a tunnel closing in around her as the cosmic horror bound her tightly in Its disgusting tendrils. As the vines tightened, a feeling of strange secureness washed over her. She felt her mind relax as though climbing into a bunk after a long day, followed by.. … contentedness?

And then she fell asleep.

That's all for now folks! thanks for reading, and please do let me know what you think! <33

[aishangotome]

Ellis Twilight: Chapter 20

Chapter 19 Premium Story

It was that evening when Jude and Ellis were summoned by William.

William: I apologize for the sudden summons.

Ellis: No––

Jude glared at Ellis, whom he was seeing for the first time in days.

Jude: Oi, Ellis, you have somethin' to tell me first.

Jude: Where were ya without even handin' over yer work?

Ellis: ...I went to see Victor.

Ellis: To ask if I could be removed as Kate's bodyguard.

Jude: Hah?

Jude's voice grew even colder.

Jude: I told ya to take responsibility for yer own mess.

Jude: If you're goin' to abandon her because you're tired of it, don' involve 'er in the first place.

Ellis: It's not because I'm tired of it. It's just––

Ellis: Anything that would cause her misfortune shouldn't be by Kate's side.

Ellis declared flatly, in other words, that he himself was the source of Kate's misfortune.

Jude: ...Where is she now?

Ellis: ...? "She" meaning Kate?

Jude: No one has seen 'er since she went to yer room.

Ellis: Eh...?

In the brief silence, William's voice cut in.

William: I apologize for interrupting your private conversation, but...

William: I have some bad news regarding Kate.

Ellis: ...Bad news?

Jude: Tch... What is it?

William: Kate's whereabouts are unknown.

Jude: ...Huh?

Ellis: ––What!?

William: Based on eyewitness accounts throughout London, the culprit is likely a remnant of the gang you two apprehended before.

William: "The noble Privy Council of Her Majesty" secretly paid their bail and had them released.

Ellis: Why...?

William: To them, we at Crown are a stain on Britain that must be eradicated immediately.

William: But to speak out against an organization directly under Her Majesty, they need to have some leverage.

William: That's why they probably thought of using the gang.

William: They must have known that Crown was involved in resolving the kidnapping case by the gang.

William: By inciting revenge against those we had arrested, it would be easy to make them attack us.

William: I don't know if the Privy Council was aware of Kate's existence, but...

William: If they could create a situation where an ordinary citizen became a victim due to a Crown mission...

William: That would be enough for them to recommend the dissolution of Crown to Her Majesty.

Jude: ...When was she kidnapped?

William: This evening, apparently.

William: For a clever robin who has always kept her promises to leave her cage with either of her bodyguards...

William: Did something happen?

Ellis: ...!

As if propelled by a spring, Ellis dashed out of the hall.

Jude didn't follow him; instead, he pressed William for answers.

Jude: For someone kidnapped jus' a few hours ago, ya seem to have an awful lotta information.

Jude: ––You weren't lettin' 'em do as they please, were ya?

William: ...Certainly not.

Jude grabbed William by the collar, who was smiling nonchalantly.

Jude: Do ya even realize what ya've dragged that damn idiot into?

William: Of course.

William: ––I also know how angry you'll be about it.

Jude: ...You bastard.

William: ...............

-

(Where... am I?)

When I opened my eyes, I was in pitch darkness.

It was so dark that I couldn't even tell if my eyes were open or closed, and I strained them desperately.

I tried to sit up, but my arms were bound tightly and wouldn't move.

Kate: ––!

(My body is tied up with rope...)

As soon as I raised my head, I bumped into something, and I realized I was crammed into a narrow, coffin-like box.

I tried to push up the ceiling with my forehead, but it wouldn't budge.

(I can't get out...)

––Then, perhaps noticing the sound, a voice came from outside.

Man's voice: Oh... are you awake already?

Kate: ...!

I held my breath as the sound of footsteps on the floor drew closer.

Man's voice: The only time you'll get out of there is when you die.

Man's voice: "Keep her alive as bait for a few days, and if the prey doesn't take the bait, kill her brutally and display her body on London Bridge."

Man's voice: Sorry, but those are my orders.

A chill ran down my spine, and all the blood drained from my face in terror.

But panicking now wouldn't help me escape this coffin.

(At least I know I won't be killed for a few days, so I need to calm down...)

I took a deep breath and searched for clues, retracing my memories.

(From the way he spoke, it seems like this man is also acting under someone else's orders...)

("Prey" means they're trying to lure someone who would come to rescue me, right?)

(The enemy's target is... Jude and Ellis...?)

As members of Crown, and having acted as my "bodyguards," those two would be compelled to act to prevent any confidential information from leaking out once they realize I'm missing.

(––To put those two... to put Crown in danger, I'm a failure as a Fairytale Keeper.)

I shouldn't have recklessly left the castle alone.

But it's too late to regret my impulsive actions now.

(Back then, I felt like if I didn't chase after him, I would never see Ellis again.)

(But... if that means Ellis might be put in danger––)

I would regret that more than never seeing him again.

(I have to find a way to escape...)

(Even if it means making a deal, I'll do anything.)

Kate: ...Why are you doing this?

Man's voice: It's revenge against you and your buddies who threw us in jail.

Perhaps thinking I'm going to die anyway, the man outside readily answers.

(Jail...?)

Kate: Don't tell me... you're from the gang that was behind the kidnapping...?

Man's voice: A certain someone, you see, got us out of jail on the condition that we take revenge on you lot.

Man's voice: I don't know what grudge such a noble person has against a mere trader and his guards, but...

Man's voice: It doesn't matter to us.

(...Which means...)

They either don't know about "Crown" or haven't been told.

(Are these people being used too...?)

Man's voice: But it'd be a waste to kill you. I could help you escape secretly, you know?

(Eh?)

(...Even if I think about it calmly, there's no way I can get out of here on my own.)

The coffin I was trapped in was sturdy, and the lid seemed to be securely locked, refusing to budge.

Even when I felt around, there were no cracks or gaps.

(If that's the case, my only option is to beg for my life and then seize an opportunity to escape when I'm out of the coffin...)

(––The chances of success are low, but I have no choice.)

Kate: ...H-help me––

Man's voice: As if. No way, idiot!

(What...?)

Man's voice: If we don't kill you, we'll end up back in jail. Well, despair until you die.

Man's voice: If you're really desperate, I'll show you some affection when it's time to kill you.

The man's scornful laughter and footsteps faded away.

A heavy, metallic door slammed shut with a clang.

(There was no room for negotiation...)

"Despair until you die" –– the man's parting words echoed in my mind.

(I can't give up. I have to wait for an opportunity.)

-

(––How much time has passed since then...?)

My vision was still shrouded in darkness, with no light leaking in, and I was losing my sense of time.

My throat was parched, my stomach was empty, and every part of my body ached from being unable to move.

(A few hours? Or still just a few minutes?)

He said they would keep me alive for a few days, but I had no idea how much longer this situation would continue.

(Will there be a chance to escape?)

(Maybe until I'm killed...)

(I'll be like this forever––)

I desperately tried to shake off such thoughts that kept creeping into my mind.

The darkness was like an open mouth, a fear of being swallowed up without resistance.

(N-no, no! I have to think about something fun. Let's see...)

The image of the flower field at twilight, where I spent time with Ellis, suddenly came to mind.

(Ah...)

The happy feelings from that time vividly resurfaced, and in the next moment, those memories pierced my heart like a sharp pain.

(Happiness is like the twilight sky, its colors quickly changing.)

The throbbing ache in my chest reminded me of Ellis's words.

Happy times pass by in an instant.

Yet, the brilliance of those memories, burned into my mind, only emphasized the coldness, the darkness, the pain of the reality before me.

(For two years after the accident, Ellis's brother...)

(He must have been gradually consumed in this kind of darkness.)

Right in front of Ellis.

I'll probably never be able to fully understand the weight, the desperation in Ellis's words when he said he "wants to make happiness eternal."

(But now, I think I can understand, just a little.)

Just as my heart was about to break from the darkness and fear, I heard a loud noise in the distance.

Kate: ....!

It sounded like a scream, like a roar.

The sound of something breaking and shattering, the sound of something heavy collapsing, and then––silence.

And then, the sound of hurried footsteps approaching.

Ellis: Kate...!

(That voice...!)

Kate: Ellis....!

For a moment, joy welled up inside me.

But in the next instant, a much greater fear washed over me.

(No... If he stays here, he'll be playing right into the enemy's hands.)

Kate: Run!

Ellis: ....!

The footsteps drew closer, and the heavy, iron door creaked open.

(Was Ellis locked up too?)

(But... if it's just Ellis...)

Kate: Ellis, listen!

Kate: The people who kidnapped me were trying to use me as bait to lure you and the others...!

Kate: So you have to escape before someone finds you, it's dangerous––

Ellis: ...It's okay.

Ellis: It's okay, Kate.

(Eh...)

There was a cracking sound, like something breaking.

Then, the rattling of chains falling to the floor.

The coffin I was trapped in slowly opened––and from my vision, dazzlingly white, Ellis's form gradually came into focus.

Ellis: ...It's okay, because what you're worried about won't happen.

(Ellis...)

Ellis––his hands, his face, were covered in blood.

Kate: ...!

Ellis: ...See?

Understanding the meaning behind his "It's okay," I felt tears welling up.

He didn't explicitly say "I killed them all" to protect my heart.

He's the kind of person who can wish for the happiness of others, no matter how much he gets dirty or hurt.

That's why I fell in love with him.

Kate: ...I'm sorry.

Ellis: Why are you apologizing...?

Kate: Because I like you... I didn't want to make the person I like do such a thing...

Ellis: Don't worry about it. It's not more important than saving you, Kate.

Kate: I was selfish and did something terrible to you, Ellis...

Ellis: Terrible...?

Ellis blinked as if he didn't understand what I meant.

Kate: I didn't properly consider your feelings and acted horribly... I'm sorry.

Ellis: My feelings...?

Kate: After hearing your story... I...

Kate: My mind was filled with the thought that "I might be killed."

Ellis: ...That's––

Kate: You didn't want to "kill" me, did you?

Ellis: ...?

His eyes wavered.

Ellis's feelings are surely still left behind on that twilight hill.

I placed my hand over his blood-soaked one.

Ellis: No... I wanted to kill my brother, and I killed him.

Ellis: I'll surely want to kill you too, Kate.

Kate: That might be true, but... how should I put it?

Kate: You were so scared when I almost died, Ellis.

Kate: You always looked happy when we made promises for tomorrow.

Kate: If you only wanted to "kill me and make me unable to go anywhere"... you wouldn't be like that.

Kate: If you were to kill me, Ellis, it would be... because you truly love me,

Kate: And because you're filled with the desire to not make me unhappy.

There's no point in imagining what-ifs.

But I can't help but think––what if, on that twilight hill, your brother had wished for a "continuation"?

(What if he had been able to think that maybe tomorrow would be even happier?)

(I think you probably wouldn't have killed him.)

Kate: I think I understand a little now, from the time I've spent with you, how happiness can fade in an instant, and how scary it is that happy memories can ruin a life.

Kate: But... even so. Even if I knew I would fall into despair tomorrow...

Kate: I want to live with you, Ellis, believing that tomorrow might be happier than today.

The vast amount of blood he was covered in was staining my hand the same color.

(My hand is the same color as Ellis's...)

I thought vaguely, and smiled faintly.

Kate: I think I can be happy every day if I'm with you, so you won't have to worry that I'll be unhappy tomorrow.

Kate: Even so...

Kate: ...If the time comes when you want to kill me, Ellis, that's okay too.

Ellis: ...?

Ellis's eyes widened in surprise.

Kate: Because that means you love me that much and wish for my happiness, right?

Ellis's desire––might entangle, drag in, and bind, just as his curse dictates.

But it will only bind me within happiness, overflowing with Ellis's love.

Kate: It's not that you "want to kill the person you love,"

Kate: But that you "want to lock the person you love in happiness with your own hands."

Kate: That's surely... your true wish, Ellis. That's what I felt when I looked at you.

Spending peaceful days together, inviting you on exciting vacations,

––Even bringing about eternal death could become a means to that end.

It might indeed be a sinful thing.

Kate: But if that's your "selfishness"... then I'm not afraid, even if I'm killed in the end.

Kate: I want to be selfishly loved by you, Ellis.

Ellis: ...Kate.

Ellis's face crumpled.

I wanted to touch his cheeks, which looked like he was about to cry, but I wanted Ellis to reach out to me, so I just stared into his eyes.

Ellis: …Someday.

Ellis: When the happiest moment imaginable comes to you...

Ellis: When I think that there will never be a happier day in my life than now...

Ellis: ... I think I would probably laugh at that moment.

Ellis: Truly, from the bottom of my heart, out of happiness.

Ellis: Even so, aren't you scared...?

Kate: … Yeah.

Kate: It's true that killing someone you love and feeling happy about it.... is a bit strange.

Kate: But, it's okay.

Kate: I thought you were a bit of a troubled person from the start, Ellis.

Ellis: ...!

I realized that my vision was blocked, and I was being held tightly.

Ellis: A troubled person... since when...?

Kate: Hmm... Pretty much from the beginning.

Kate: But, even so... I fell in love with you.

The breath I inhaled was filled with the gentle scent of Ellis's shirt, like freshly laundered linen, rather than the lingering smell of blood... and even though I was happy, I felt tears welling up.

Ellis: Kate.

Kate: ...Yes?

Ellis: I love you.

Ellis: I love you, Kate.

Ellis: I love you so much that I want to be the only one to make you happy.

Kate: ...Okay.

Ellis: I love you so much that I want you to be unable to live without me.

Kate: Okay.

Ellis: I love you so much.. I want to kill you when you're still happy.

Kate: ..........Okay.

His arms wrapped around me, sweetly squeezing my heart.

I thought this was the happiest moment of my life.

But––I have a feeling that an even greater happiness awaits us.

Ellis: Stay with me forever.

Ellis: ...I won't let you go anymore.

.

.

.

.

.

Blind Love Ch. 21 | Mad Love Ch. 21

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[shinysobi]

si bel homme list (x.mh)

☆ best friends to lovers: photographer! minghao x lawyer! reader ☆w.c: 5.3k ☆ genre: non-idol au, romance, fluff, comedy, angst, slight coercion involved, copious references to smoking and drinking (mentions of cheating , NOT by Hao). masterlist

☆ a/n: so the first chapter is here, after months of procrastination and general breakdowns lol (not lol) i think i finalized the plot for this fic before any other one, which really is on brand for me, because then i stopped writing it entirely. while this is the first part for now, the rest will follow soon (i promise) because this is too fun to not write obsessively <3 ☆ huge thank you to @mylovesstuffs for betaing this, as usual, without the amazing feedback and support from cel there would be no fic from user shinysobi; thank you to the people i made this collab with, yuki ( @eclipsaria ) rae ( @nerdycheol ) and tiya ( @gyubakeries ). without these amazing people there would be no collab at all <3 check their works for this collab too yall, theyre all certified bangers <3 ☆ credits to @seungnm for the banner, and since this is part of yuki's 100 follower collab, check out the other works here ! (I might post another fic tomorrow ) also tagging resident 8stars: @solstyce-ent, @okiedokrie-main, @hannieoftheyear, @haologram

Unfortunately, despite whatever they said about relationships, they always ended easily; with a handshake and about a three-hour karaoke session where I poured my heart and soul into singing the most awful breakup songs known to man, while Minghao looked on in despair. No, more often than not, my breakups sound like a boring business discussion, where my exes and I meet over a cup of coffee or a business lunch, and discuss the matter of our collaborative project (relationship) going forward. 

And every time it’s the same reason, one that I am sick of hearing—you’re too cold for a human. 

“This is false,” I had moaned over my morning cup of coffee, “I’m a divorce lawyer, for god’s sake. I’m not an unfeeling robot like they make me out to be.”

“Maybe tone down the arguing and the obsessing over details,” Minghao had commented, sipping on his tea, “then the allegations will drop.”

Which brought us to this day, where it has been three years, six months, and five days since I began seeing Kim Cheong-hee, and thirteen days since he had gotten down on one knee and proposed marriage in front of a restaurant full of people. It was not my style, but I took it in stride, tamping down the feeling of discomfort and general squeamishness that came with the territory. 

It has also been exactly eleven minutes since I found out conclusive proof of my fiance cheating on me. 

Look, I’m not bothered by this. Men cheat. Women cheat. If they didn’t, I would not have been able to put down a deposit on my flat. Marriages dissolve all the time, because of one reason or the other. But apparently litigating in civil court over the dissolution of marriages does not mean one gets used to the sight of their fiance in bed with another woman. Or the sight of their wedding invitations lying on the table, apparently. Just how much of an asshole was this guy?

“Yewon,” he holds up his hands, “look, I can explain.”

“Is that why you asked me to get married to you that lazily?” I scoff, even as the woman in question scurries from the room, “I mean, semi-expensive restaurant, candlelit dinner, ring on top of the desserts. Too unimaginative, even for a man who spent his entire life fixing spreadsheets for a mid-sized company.”

“Hey,” He stands up, and I cringe at the sight of his naked body, “demeaning my work? Isn’t that a bit too much, even for you?”

“Sorry, old habits die hard.” I shrug, removing the ring from my hand, “I know your mother pushed you to continue seeing me. I knew you were never really interested in the first place. Even the whole proposal mess was her idea, not yours. She wanted a hotshot attorney with political proximity as her daughter-in-law, so she forced you to date me. Wait, is that why you wanted to come to those dinners so badly? Did you really think politics was your place?”

He says nothing. It's all true, then. Dating me when he really did not give a shit about me, is that why I liked the relationship in the first place? Having something in my life without really having to work for it, that's what I wanted. I can't even blame him for continuing this mess for so long—I was an active participant. 

“Doesn’t mean you get to string me along for three years, without even thinking of the consequences.” I sigh, placing the ring down on the table, “is she pregnant? Is that why you're marrying her?”

He nods. 

“And when, pray, were you going to tell me?” I grimace, “at the altar via video call?”

“Look, Yewon, I tried telling you—”

“I can sue you for this, you know that, right?”

He shuts up. He was arguing with me so passionately even a moment ago, but all that went out of the window when I brought up money. I snort, “Look, I don’t care. Just make sure you have nothing in my apartment by tomorrow morning.”

He nods, and I turn back to walk out of the bedroom. Outside, on the sofa, I look at the woman in question, who looks fairly mutinous at having to deal with a random woman barging into her boyfriend’s place and interrupting their time together, all the while claiming to be his fiance. Well, technically, I was his fiance at the moment; he just didn’t tell me he also had another one. “Don’t worry,” I bow politely, “I don’t care about men like that.”

The first thing that comes to my mind as I close the door behind me is — ah, so that was why he did not sleep with me. 

—

“That was the question on your mind?” Minghao says, in disbelief, as I devour a leg of fried chicken, “not why the hell did my fiance have another woman on the side, but why did he not have sex with me?”

“To be fair, he dated her first, then started meeting me because his mother set him up and he really couldn't say no to her," I shrug, “if we get into semantics, I was the other woman, except I had no idea about it.”

Minghao presses his temples, “and why the hell would you think back to having sex with him?”

“No, I did not have sex with him,” I shake the chicken leg at him, “at first, I thought he was saving himself for marriage or whatever. Then I thought he was closeted, which was fine by me.”

“How the hell is being closeted fine with you—”

“Then I realised he just did not want to have sex with me,” I say, shrugging, “not important anymore, really. If I knew he had a girlfriend, I would not have spent so much time thinking about his sexuality. I spent so much time thinking I had something fundamentally wrong with me because he would not sleep with me.”

“Did you want that?” Minghao looks at me, expression unreadable, “did you want him to sleep with you?” 

I make a face, “not really, no. The thought of being touched by that man was so disgusting, I had to avoid him in the beginning. Then I realised he didn’t have any interest in sleeping with me, so I gave up on avoiding him.”

“So you didn’t sleep with him at all, for all these years?” Minghao shakes his head, “this seems a bit much, even for you.”

“You’re talking to the woman who has never slept with anyone in her life, so no, this is not out of the ordinary,” I shrug, “I just find the act slightly disgusting.”

“Sex?”

“Yes, that.”

“Very well,” Minghao shrugs, setting down his phone to pick up a piece of chicken, “what do you plan on telling your family?”

I freeze. Right. I had forgotten about that. Telling my family means I have to be entirely truthful with them, and tell them about the disaster that was the relationship, the proposal, and the subsequent betrayal. They already thought I had a borderline personality disorder, this will land me in a hospital, if I’m being generous. My father might even have a heart attack. “I had not thought about that. My mother is going to kill me.”

“Prosecutor Kim?”

“Prosecutor Kim, yeah, that woman.” I groan, “she’s going to kill me. She hates it when I keep things from her, and I broke up with Cheong-hee without even consulting her in the first place, she’s going to kill me. My father will have a heart attack, and my sister is going to get me admitted for a check-up. My life is ruined.”

“Then?”

“Look, if worst comes to worst, I’ll just tell my mother I broke up with him over something trivial. Instead of telling her he had me as a side piece while he was off having the best time with the love of his life. Or that he dated me entirely because he was so much of a mama’s boy he couldn’t even tell her about his girlfriend.”

Minghao makes a low whistling noise, “I feel sorry for the girl actually, being stuck with Kim Cheong-hee for life.”

“I do not,” I shrug, “she’s an adult, not some poor child who got taken advantage of. The only person who’s getting the short end of this arrangement is their child. His mother will never forgive the child for ruining her chances of having a lawyer for a daughter-in-law, and eventually that resentment is going to seep into their married life as well. There’s nothing to be done anymore, but I do feel bad for the child.”

“What’s this, Choi Yewon, top divorce lawyer of Hwaseong, daughter of Professor Choi and Prosecutor Kim, is expressing sympathy?” Minghao gasps, “this is a new emotion.”

“Shut up, Minghao,” I grumble, “I’ve seen this exact playbook too many times to not recognise it instantly. Couple gets married because they’re pregnant and well, raising a child out of wedlock is not advisable, and everyone starts resenting the child for ruining their plans. I’m sure Cheong-hee will be thinking whatever his mother is thinking a few years down the line.”

“You’re saying he’s going to resent his fiancee, or wife, or whatever, a few years later?”

“I hope he does not, but statistically, there is not a lot of chances where that does happen,” I sigh, “sometimes I wish I had been a criminal lawyer instead of a family lawyer. At least then I would not be looking at the worst parts of society every day.”

“If you were a criminal lawyer, you would think of everyone as potential criminals, and act accordingly,” Minghao stands up from the table, “so, do you want to crash on my couch, or should I call a taxi for you?”

“It’s three in the morning, dumbass, I’m not paying premium prices to go to my home,”  I mutter, “just give me some of your pajamas, I’ll sleep here tonight.”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow morning?” Minghao asks, but he’s already going off to his room to get clothes for me, “should you really be spending the night here at my place?”

“One of the few perks of being the genius at work, is that I get to roughly choose my own hours,” I smile as he hands me his sleeping shorts, “one of the only perks, that is. I barely get enough sleep, but at least I can come in at eleven in the morning and no one bats an eye.”

“That’s also because you don’t go home until ten at night,” he grunted, putting away the remnants of the fried chicken, “who told you to work this hard?”

“Staying in until ten at night got you the all-expenses paid trip to Bali last year, you buffoon,” I called out, before retreating into his spare room, “I spend all my disposable income on you, you dumbass.”

“Point taken. Please stay in until eleven at night from tomorrow, Miss Attorney.”

“Opportunistic asshole,” I mutter, “you’re giving me a neck massage every night then.”

When I emerge from his room dressed in his sleep shorts, Minghao is leaning on the wall opposite mine, staring at his phone. He slips his phone into his pocket, staring at me, “why the hell do you look even uglier than before?”

“Shut the fuck up, dumbfuck,” I grumble, walking back out into the kitchen, “what are you looking at? New appointment?”

“Yeah, someone has their bridal photoshoot scheduled for tomorrow, so I’m just going over the brief,” Minghao says, showing me a presentation of floral designs and happy couples, “they’ve changed their needs at least three times, so I am wary of  making permanent decisions. No idea if they’ll even like this one.”

“Do you have a contract?”

“No, why?”

I stare at him, “you know what, you deserve it. You  deserve to be mooched off of.”

“Don’t say that,” Minghao laughs, “it was a favour someone called in for them. Nothing I could do.”

“Just say no, you asshole.”

He shakes his head, then walks into his room. I sigh, then move out of the kitchen and into the guest room. Minghao can’t resist doing a favour, as usual. He’s been doing favours for people ever since we were in university, and even now, years later and with several awards to his name, he’s still doing the same favours for the same people who think it’s fine to treat him like garbage. And on top of that, he won’t even let me intervene. 

—

“Attorney Choi,” my secretary peeks her head into my room, “your mother is here.”

I stare. What do you mean my mother is here? “Are you sure it's her?” I ask, suddenly aware of the day-old suit I was wearing, because Minghao did not have a suit in my size I could borrow, “it’s my mother? Prosecutor Kim? That woman?”

“Pretty sure it’s her, given how famous she is,” The paralegal grins, “she says she’s here to meet her daughter, and you’re the only woman in the office today.”

I sigh, feeling a headache come along. I did not need this, not on top of all my responsibilities that were waiting for me, “should I go to the visitor’s lounge, or is she going to come here?”

“I asked her the same thing,” my secretary replies, sheepish, “but she said she knew the way herself, and—” the telltale sound of a pair of high heels echoing down the corridor, “she’s here.”

With that, she escapes, scurrying off to finish whatever tasks I had assigned to her, and my mother opens the door to the office, walking in as though she owned the whole place. Well, I think, given the amount of power she still has, she might as well own Hwaseong entirely. “Yewon.”

“Yes?” I say, far too sharply for my own comfort. “What brings you here this morning, mother?”

My mother, never one to waste too much time on an introductory statement, dives right off the deep end, “Tell me why Cheong-Hee's mother called me this morning and told me the wedding was off.”

“Uh…” I sigh, “tea?”

“I am not here to drink tea, I want to know why I had to hear of your breakup from a third-party, instead of the person herself.”

I sigh, no point in hiding anymore, I guess, “Cheong-hee is getting married.” I say, pouring out a cup of coffee for myself, “he told me last night that he was getting married to the woman he was originally pursuing a relationship with.”

The expression on my mother’s face is interesting, because it’s a cross between wondering whether or not she’s heard it correctly and wanting to kill Cheong-hee for his transgressions, “what do you mean by that, Yewon?”

“I mean, he had a girlfriend all along, it's just that his mother did not approve of her very much,” I say, shrugging, “so he went along with her and dated me, but he found out she was pregnant, so I broke it off.”

My mother looks like she’s turning over my words in her mind, “so, you are telling me, that boy went along with whatever his mother said, and dated you for three years—”

“Three years, six months, and five days,” I mutter underneath my breath. 

“—and never, not once, did he have the decency to admit to you, or your family, that he had a steady girlfriend on the side?” She’s seething now, but not at me, “I need to sue him. What the hell did he think would happen?”

“He’s not worth much to be sued over,” I take a seat across from her, “I took a look at his taxes last year, he has more debt than he has assets.”

“So, no to suing, I think,” she shrugs, “did you see the woman he was with?”

“She was in the bed with him, actually,” I cringe, and my mother cringes, because it is never very comfortable to be talking about anyone’s sexual activities with your mother, let alone your ex-fiance’s, “and I think she knew who I was. At least she seemed to know me.”

“She probably went along with the whole thing just to appease that buffoon of a boy,” my mother says, “and you wasted all those years on him, just to find out you were the second woman all along. What a family.”

“Well, I did not waste time on him,” I make a face, “he was my boyfriend, not my whole life.”

My mother stares at me, and it’s the same kind of stare that I have been at the receiving end of, so often, the one that says, are you sure that is the case? “I mean,” I hurry to do damage control, “I was disappointed, really. And angry at being deceived. But that was it. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more,” My mother repeats, although she does not look like she believes me at all, “very well, then. Your father is terribly upset over this.”

“Wait, Father is upset?” I stand up, “don’t tell me he’s gotten sick again, the doctor told him to not be in stressful situations—”

My mother raises a hand to silence me, “I’ll worry about your father, not you. Have you thought of a second plan?”

“Second plan?” I make a face, “mother, it’s not like I put a down payment on a house or something. I didn’t even have concrete wedding plans with the man. I do not need a second plan.”

“You do realise, you’ve got about thirty different parties to attend for the upcoming election season?”

I groan. Of course they were going to bring that up. “My brother-in-law is the politician, not my sister. She’s a judge. I don’t even need to bring a plus one to those events. I’ll be fine.”

My mother levels a stare. I sigh. Of course I have to bring a date to those events. Everyone does, and apparently, everyone in my sister’s circle knew about the fact that I was dating and almost engaged to a man. They just didn’t know who. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I’ll come up with a proper cover story. Don’t worry, I’m not going to advertise the breakup to the whole nation,” My mother says, standing up from the couch, “but make sure you’re prepared for any questions that might go your way.”

“From nosy aunties?”

“They’re richer than we can ever imagine being,” my mother scolds, but she’s smiling, “but yes, nosy aunties.”

“What if I just get a date?” I say suddenly, fully aware of how desperate I am, “look, no one knows who Cheong-hee is, right? I did not bring him to any parties or dinners. I’ll just get someone else to come along with me, and it’ll be fine.”

“Never mind, you’re going to a hospital.”

“Mother!” I squawk, “ugh, fine, I’ll just tell them I’m broken up or something like that.”

“Yeah, better stick to the truth. You are a terrible liar,” and with that, Prosecutor Kim is out of my office, leaving me behind in my stupid little chair and a stupid cup of coffee in my hands.

The next fundraising dinner for my brother-in-law was in a week, and it would take a miracle for me to get a date by then. Now, everyone is going to ask me why I did not have a fiance on my arm, and I’ll have to play the role of the dumped woman, drawing a sharp contrast to my sister and her perfect family and perfect life, while all I chased was money and professional goals. Not even a corporate lawyer or a prosecutor—that's what they said behind my back, she’s just a family lawyer. Why does she behave like that, then? In comparison to my father, the law professor, my mother, the prosecutor, and my sister, the judge, all my achievements seemed paltry. I should at least get someone to show off if I wanted to be considered to be on the same level as them. 

—

The rest of the day goes by in the same manner. I take a look at multiple depositions, advise three clients, and sour the general mood of the office with my scowls. At one point, my secretary comes up to me and asks if I am on my period. If so, she could get me painkillers to help with the pain and discomfort. I dismiss her with a wave of my hand. If my headache could be magicked away with painkillers, I would be the first in line. No, instead of painkillers, I’m stuck rifling through depositions long past nine in the evening, long after everyone else has gone home for the night. I refuse to order food, hoping the growing hunger in my stomach provides sufficient motivation to be done with my work as soon as possible. 

It is eleven at night when my phone rings, with a call from Minghao. I picked it up on the second ring, “Hello, Choi Yewon.”

“Still at the office?” Minghao’s tone seems bored almost, but nonetheless, concerned for my health and sanity, “this much overworking cannot be good for the heart, Yewon.”

“I have not had my dinner yet, so save the lecturing until then,” I mutter, “how was the photoshoot?”

“Fortunately, she said yes to the concepts and did not ask me to change everything and begin from scratch,” he sighs, “I swear, if she had told me to make one single correction, I would have been on the news for murder in the second degree by now.”

“Careful, Minghao, I’m not a criminal lawyer,” I sigh, “hey, do you mind getting me food?”

—

“Refresh my memory,” Minghao says, about half an hour later, picking up a piece of chicken, “your mother came to your office? Prosecutor Kim?”

“She did,” I mutter, “wanted to know why the hell did she get to hear about my engagement failing from Cheong-hee’s mother, and not from me.”

“Sheesh,” He grimaces, “not the best decision, to keep her in the dark. What was she like?”

“Surprisingly nice about the whole thing,” I reply, still struggling to understand this action of my mother. “She said she wanted to sue him and his family.”

“He went into debt because of crypto. He asked you for money last year. What money does he even have?” Minghao says. 

“Precisely why I cannot even sue him,” I shrug, “he’s not worth anything at all.”

“What else did she say?”

“She was worried about all the comments I would get,” I reply after a beat, “because of the upcoming fundraisers.”

Minghao drops the piece of chicken he has been holding, and I know what he realises—reputation is key. Even as the terrible child, the constant disappointment, I was expected to live up to some expectations, no matter how lowered they were for my own benefit. And for those standards, being without a fiance, especially when I had told everyone about the existence of one, was a mistake. A mistake that might as well cost my brother-in-law his political career. Minghao nods, and I mimic the gesture. There needs to be a fiance, or at the very least, someone who will serve their purpose on my arm. 

“You need a boyfriend,” Minghao finishes my thoughts, nodding gravely, “or at least a date.”

“My mother thought the idea was preposterous,” I grimace, “but the thing is, I need to have a date on my arm. If I don’t, then people start talking about me. And I need people to not talk about me as much as possible.”

“Did Prosecutor Kim think the idea was ridiculous?”

“Half of it is because the idea itself was so preposterous she did not think it was feasible,” I reply, “I mean, getting a boyfriend in a week? Who does that? Even if I paid someone, they wouldn’t.”

“Yewon.”

“And look, I know how long it took for me to even like Cheong-Hee enough to go on a date with him of my own volition,” my hands are shaking now, “it will be difficult to get even a singular date, much less someone willing to put up with my family’s expectations and their status.”

“Breathe, Yewon,” Minghao is holding my hands now, his face close to mine, breathing loud enough to distract me, “concentrate on the breathing, Yewon, in and out.”

“Shut up,” I smack him with a pillow, “I can take care of myself this much.”

“Does not look like it,” He grins, but leans back anyway, “so, do you have any particular qualities you’re looking for?”

“In a relationship?” I ask, “you know the list, right?”

“Yeah, the 시발 놈 list,” Minghao sighs, “you do realise how stupid the name is?”

“Yes, and it has the list of my preferred traits in a romantic partner, so I’m not changing it,” I grumble, “and they’re not even outrageous demands, you know. What am I asking for?”

Minghao sighs, before counting my conditions off the top of his head, “the man has to have a good job, must be good with housework, must be compatible with my family, must be respectful of my personal space—you think there are men who actually fit all these demands?”

“I’m merely asking of them whatever they ask of me,” I shrug, “nothing more than what will be expected of me, if I were to pursue a relationship with them. I’m expected to be the perfect wife, the perfect girlfriend, with a perfect career and family. Why can’t I expect the same of the person I am going to be shackled to for the rest of my life?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Minghao groans, “don’t say shackled like you’re going to be forced to spend your life with the guy. You have a degree of choice in the person you live with.”

I stare at him, “Minghao, I really don’t think you are the person who should be lecturing me about my dating life and activities.”

“At least I’ve managed to get some in the past decade, unlike you.”

“Hey!” I sat up indignantly, “Take that back!”

Minghao takes a look at my face, no doubt sporting the angriest expression it can muster, and dissolves into laughter. I stare at him, my best friend of twelve years, six months, and ten days, who’s currently laughing himself sick on my office sofa. He’s been through it all—watched me move through university and law school and then struggle to prepare for the bar. He’s been a part of my family too; Prosecutor Kim loves him, and even Professor Choi approves of him enough to let me continue being my friend. He rarely approves of my relationships. My sister and my brother-in-law also love him, the award-winning photographer Xu Minghao who was somehow best friends with their disappointing little sister. Minghao was… perfect. 

“Minghao,” I say, grinning, “Xu Minghao.”

He looks up, and immediately goes on the defensive, “Yewon, whatever you are thinking, don’t do it.”

“I haven’t even told you what I am thinking about!”

“The last time you made that face at me, we spent the night in jail,” Minghao warns. “Don’t even think about it.”

“It was not my fault!”

“Why the hell did we end up in jail in the first place? Because you took us there! You got me into trouble!”

“Look,” I raise my hands, “this is not going to land you in jail. It’s a small favour, really. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing too bad for you to be worrying over, just a little ruse that I need you to partake in.”

“Ruse—” Minghao’s face turns white as a sheet when he realises exactly what I mean, “no, Yewon. You cannot be thinking about that. I refuse.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” I make a face, “it’s a perfectly fine proposition, a great one, even. You get proper exposure and expand your social circle, and I get to throw nosy aunties off of my back for once in my life.”

“So you want me to pretend to be your fake boyfriend?” Minghao sputters. “Do you not see how ridiculous this sounds? And do you think we can fool the Professor and the Prosecutor? They’re going to see through this little ruse as soon as we come up with it.”

“They won’t,” I grin, “because they like you too much. If I told them I was dating you, they’d likely welcome it with open arms, or give you a lecture about not dating women like me. I know them.”

Minghao frowns, “why do you speak like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like your entire family hates you or something like that. You’re going into every situation with the preconceived notion that people will hate you.”

“Look, Minghao, we can think about psychoanalysing me later, okay?” I grin, “focus on the goal in front of us right now, yeah? You need to get more exposure, and I need to get people to think I still have a boyfriend, and I have not managed to scare him off, as I usually do.”

“I don’t need exposure,” Minghao makes a face, “unless you forgot, I am one of the few people in Korea who won both the Higashikawa Prize and the China International Press Photo Contest. I don’t need the exposure.”

“And even though you’ve gotten the awards, you’re still doing bridal photography for favours,” I scowl. “Do you know how much money these people have? They have more money than is entirely necessary for anyone to live on, and the funny thing is, they think it’s their birthright to own obscene amounts of wealth.”

“You are not exactly poor, you know.”

“We’re working class.” I reply, saying the words working class like it's a slur, which it might as well be, given how many times I have heard the same phrase being uttered in galas, you’re working class, Choi Yewon, no matter how much money you make, you’ll always be working class. 

“How is owning a house in the middle of Seoul considered working class?”

“These people do not work!” I exclaim, too loudly, “Minghao, these people do not work. They wake up, go golfing, then go out to lunch, golf again, go shopping, and then go out to dinner. These people are people of leisure, like some obscure Victorian-era relic. They’re not spending days in the office like my parents or my sister and her husband;. they are people of leisure. So yes. I would argue you need to make those connections, and milk them for as much money as you can.”

“Isn’t that extortion?”

“I prefer the term ‘due compensation’,” I grin, “and yeah, getting you to pretend to be my boyfriend is not exactly the most moral of acts, but it’s only a hundred days to the election, and I need the focus to be entirely on my brother-in-law. Do you know how much money his opponents have invested in the election?”

“I can imagine,” Minghao says dryly, and sighs, “only for a hundred days?”

“A hundred days, and then we can break up peacefully.”

“Wait, can we still remain friends after we’ve broken up?” He asks, “or is that a bit too much?”

“We’ll be like Americans, you know. They stay friends even after divorcing.”

“So, this fake break-up will involve what?” Minghao asks, wary, “are you going to swindle me again?”

“I will not land you in jail, Xu Minghao,” I say, irritated, “you can even cuss me out in public or whatever, if you want. After the breakup, that is.”

“You know very well I would not do that,” He groans, then holds my hands, “you know what? Why the hell not. At least I’ll get money out of this.”

“Done,” I grin, shaking his hand vigorously, “Xu Minghao, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

[bittersweetresilience]

author's commentary part one

now that we've reached the end of the fic, i will finally explain the beginning.

i named this piece after 大鱼, a song whose title means big fish. in the fic, jing yuan references void songs twice, which i imagine are the sounds that void song whales make. if you remember, yukong talks about these whales in her visitor dialogue. they swim freely through the stellar seas while their sibling species on the luofu has disappeared into history.

whale songs. dream fish. the call of the void. the language of longing. to me, renjing.

author's imagery only the most important bits

the sky is freedom and departure, and it is jing yuan, eventually. the sea is the dissolution of the self and the thing that will swallow him, and it is yingxing. the lightning is the portent of death, but also the electricity of being in love. the wine is the representation of shared wishes and togetherness and history. the starskiffs are the memorials of the past and the vessels into the empyrean. the fire is desire and destruction. the ink is the color of blade's hair and the sincerity of the letters jing yuan writes. the bandages and the iron are blade and the violence of his existence. the paper birds are the fragility of jing yuan's memories, which cannot be buried. the nightclothes are the vulnerability he will shed in the morning. the string is the red string of fate between renjing, but also the strings that tether jing yuan to the luofu and to his ending. the womb and the egg are the places of rebirth and the representation of returning to the beginning. the sun is the stellaron, and it is jing yuan before the sky and the sea consume him, and it is the end of the dream.

author's commentary part two

below is my translation of the song.

大鱼 big fish

海浪无声将夜幕深深淹没 the waves soundlessly submerge the night 漫过天空尽头的角落 rising over the corners of the edge of the sky 大鱼在梦境的缝隙里游过 the big fish swims in the rifts between dreams 凝望你沉睡的轮廓 watching your sleeping visage

看海天一色 听风起雨落 seeing the sky and the sea in one color, hearing the winds stir and the rain fall 执子手 吹散苍茫茫烟波 holding my son's hand, i blow away the hazy ripples of smoke 大鱼的翅膀 已经太辽阔 the wings of the big fish are already too vast 我松开 时间的绳索 i let go of the thread of time

怕你飞远去 怕你离我而去 afraid you'll fly far away, afraid you'll leave me 更怕你 永远停留在这里 even more afraid you'll stop here forever 每一滴泪水 都向你流淌去 every tear flows toward you 倒流进 天空的海底 flowing backward into the ocean floor of the sky

(...)

看你飞远去 看你离我而去 seeing you fly far away, seeing you leave me 原来你生来就属于天际 so you were born to belong to the sky all along 每一滴泪水 都向你流淌去 every tear flows toward you 倒流回最初的相遇 flowing backward into our first meeting

without this song, this fic wouldn't exist. every part of the two was intimately interwoven. in particular, the line about the thread of time was what made me certain it would be a nonlinear narrative and the mixing of the sky and the sea was the image that created the entire story.

i further drew from the lyrics the most important imagery, the idea of ending on the beginning, and the son's hand as not only yanqing but everyone jing yuan leans on today in order to support himself against the weight of history. i drew the themes of dreams and reality, the dialogue on leaving, and the breathless, surreal atmosphere of melancholy and yearning. but in addition to all of that there is a double meaning in this song to me.

the first time you hear it, you think it's about jing yuan. and it is, of course. everything is about him. he is the holder, the sleeper, the one submerging. but by the last verse, you realize it is also blade, talking to him as he walks into scalegorge waterscape. trying and failing to call him back from within the endless dream.

both of them were born to belong to the sky. only one of them truly died in it.

author's dictionary

rèn, 刃, word for 'Blade' (lit. 'blade's edge') jiāngjūn, 将军, word for 'general' gānbēi, 干杯, word for 'cheers' (lit. 'dry cups') mèngdié, 梦蝶, word for the shortness of life (lit. 'butterfly dream') (this was not said explicitly but alluded to in the first dream) shīfù, 师父, word for 'martial master' bàitáng, 拜堂, word for the act of bowing to the heavens and the earth, the parents, and then each other in marriage (this is what the high-cloud quintet was joking about) yǐnyuè-jūn, 饮月君, word for 'Imbibitor Lunae' (lit. 'moon-drinker') nàihé qiáo, 奈何桥, word for the Bridge of Oblivion where souls drink Meng Po soup to forget the memories of their past life in preparation for reincarnation húlu, 葫芦, word for 'gourd' (this is what bailu uses to dispense medicine) qīng, 卿, word for 'senior official' (this is the honorific jing yuan uses for fu xuan in light of her position as master diviner) xiàngqí, 象棋, word for 'Chinese chess' (this is what starchess is based on, where my vision designates aurumatons as cannons, starskiffs as elephants, and cloud knights as pawns) gē, 哥, word for 'older brother' (this is a casual term of address for older men) shíhuǒ mèngshēn, 石火梦身, word for 'Starfall Reverie' (lit. 'sparks in stone, body in dream')

author's references

all of the xianzhou trailblaze missions. all of the relevant characters' character stories and companion missions. character dialogues. visitor dialogues. battle dialogues. battle mechanics. lightcones. relics. readables. item descriptions. character designs. character messages. the new trailblaze continuance. area maps. chinese voiceovers and their english translations. character trailers. combat guides. animated shorts. possibly more things i'm forgetting to mention. my wealth of insanity.

author's appreciation

wiki editors who came before me. people who upload youtube videos of different dubs of each trailblaze mission. spouses and ssswips. my beloved commenters. the composer of 大鱼. renjing.

[vickyvicarious]

Before I began to restore these women to their dead selves through my awful work, [...] Had I not seen the repose in the first place, and the gladness that stole over it just ere the final dissolution came, as realisation that the soul had been won, I could not have gone further with my butchery. I could not have endured the horrid screeching as the stake drove home; the plunging of writhing form, and lips of bloody foam. I should have fled in terror and left my work undone. But it is over! And the poor souls, I can pity them now and weep, as I think of them placid each in her full sleep of death for a short moment ere fading.

I love this framing. First of all, I love that from beginning to end this is not depicted as anything like a triumph. Even though strategically it may well be so, Van Helsing takes no pleasure, not even in a cathartic revenge way, in killing them. He hates every second of it. Not just because he's afraid but because it makes him feel like a butcher, he can't endure the signs of their suffering.

But he frames it as "restoring" them. This wording is consistent with how he comforted the suitors about the necessity of killing vampire!Lucy, and I love how that doesn't suddenly vanish when the vampire is no longer someone they care about. Van Helsing's only exposure to these women has been as a scary story, or them circling him terrifyingly in the night. He never knew them as people and never will. But he still hates having to kill them, and he still finds great comfort in the idea that by doing so he is freeing them from this evil state, and restoring them back to the way they should have been after death. Mina does the same with Dracula tomorrow - even Dracula. And she has some extra reason to be personally invested there (I'll try and find my post from last year about it) but I just like how consistent this detail is.

[melliae]

Some Alchemical Symbolism (Canto VII Part 3 Spoilers)

While the title of the "Knight of the White Moon" didn't elicitate anything on me, intuition or otherwise, since she (?) was a figure already present in Don Quixote novel (despite her main blue motif, which is supposed to be the color of the quintessence, or philosophical stone), a couple of scenes catched my attention.

"Albedo: the pure, white stage in the opus, also known as the albificatio. The albedo occurs after the blackened matter, the putrefied body of the metal or matter for the Stone, lying dead at the bottom of the alembic, has been washed to whiteness by the mercurial waters or fire. [...] The albedo is symbolized by all things pure, white or silver, some of which are: *Luna (the white *queen), the *moon (because the matter has attained the perfect state of receptivity, ready to be imprinted by form), [...]" - A Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery

The color white had already been present before, particularly with the Golden Bough recovered from Wuthering Heights, with its text being white even (despite the charred black color it had in the credits), but this is the first time PM hit us so gratuitosly with it. For beginners, despite the common association of vampires and night, there isn't any mention of the moon in regards to bloodfiends. It could also be some sort of representation for Bari's influence, but another fragment of the previous book leads me to another conclusion...

"The clear moonlight of the albedo leads the adept out of the black night of the soul (the *nigredo) into the dawning of consciousness, heralding the advent of full consciousness symbolized by the midday ‘ sun at the final red stage of the opus, the *rubedo."

And really, in simple terms, the entire Canto can be described as Don Quixote/Sancho "waking up" and thus developing her consciousness.

In fact, even the coagulation techniques from Don Quixote can be tied to alchemical symbolism as well, since it's one of the two main process during the alchemical Art: solve et coagula, or dissolve and, well, coagulate.

Firstly, the process of dissolution is commonly associated to water for obvious reasons, and is commonly understood as the step by which the working material is reduded to the prima materia, the primal stuff which is manipulated and refined by the alchemist. This can be traced into Sancho drinking from the Lethe, "dissolving" her identity into an infatile, primitive mindset, upon Bari's direction... which makes a lot of sense!

"The flower is also a symbol for the ‘ philosopher’s stone. The matter of the Stone is often compared to a tree or plant, because it is a growing, organic thing (see *philosophical tree). The beautiful colours which appear in the vessel at the fullest perfection of the work are represented as flowers blossoming from the plant of the Stone."

Bari is blue, the color of quintessence or the final union of the other four elemental essences, and searching for a particular flower. Xichun is very interesting in finding her, in search of the river that can potentially give immortality to the elders of her family.

Anyway, following with the second process, that of coagulation, it's commonly associated with fire, red and weapons, as they are the only method through which the volatile spirits can be fixated in place.

In the first image, at the left, we have the king being pierced by a personification of Mercurius, which can be understood both as the guide of the Great Work itself and its end result. Now, do I have to remind you who brought the Golden Bough to La Manchaland? Sansón is deeply related, one way or another, to Bari, after all.

And by that matter, Sancho's spear acquired a golden and bright light during the last quick-time event, similar to the colors of IDs' extraction. This, in turn, means that Sancho used "fire" to kill Quixote at the end, burning and cleansing the corrupted, rotten matter so "it" - she - could reborn.

"Blood: [...] The alchemical blood appears in various forms throughout the opus. It first occurs as the blood of death and sacrifice at the opening of the opus, when the old body of the metal (or outmoded state of being) is dissolved or killed in order to be renewed. The alchemical principle of death and putrefaction is based on the idea that nature could only be renewed after first dying away"

Naturally, the correlations aren't 1:1, so I can't be fully sure if all this was on purpose or just purely accident. But if this holds any truth, then it means than Limbus Company has officially moved from the Nigredo stage into the Albedo stage of the Magnum Opus, maybe in accordance to Dante's clock hands (but again, I'm not sure).