let's get lost in our dreams tonight and tomorrow, too ⋆｡°✩
Lanterns don't write. They're tools that humans use to create light when the sun chooses to disappear behind the horizons. But once the moon rises and the ocean tides begin to waver, who will pave the way for those in need of guidance?
Hello, I'm Lantern (callsign 22). After humans have lost sight of what they have truly become, I have been born from the fear of ultimate confusion and loss of guidance. I hate people, yet at the same time, they're my favorite living things in the world. Every Lantern needs fuel to exist; I feed on stories that gravitate towards the complexities of nature. Perhaps one day I, too, shall create stories of my own that can make me feel somewhat human as well. Lanterns don't write, but who is to say that I won't?
current lomls of 2026:
follo tunito, enjin, hiromi higuruma, cheng xiaoshi, chifuyu matsuno, nxx and lads men, quanxi, maki, kishibe, unum (to eat a god), the cute girl who works at my local cafe every thursday mornings.
Content Warning: Light yandere themes (?), psychological manipulation, implied non-consensual ideation (not acted upon), corruption ideation. Just your average cup o' joe.
IMPORTANT!! Not many people read the previous chapter. I implore that you read it to avoid any confusion about the story. Click here to read the previous chapter!
summary: loser reader is forced to do her job instead of being a useless chud. ofc she has to work with tamsy. he's a love interest unfortunately so this chapter focuses on him. also he's a little yucky. you also get to see how swaggy and OP y/n might actually be if it weren't for the fact that she's sooo lazy. real shit. (wc: 7606)
IT WAS ON ENJIN'S REQUEST THAT Semiu should assign Y/n to as many missions as possible to help her regain the experience she had lost over the course of her absence. It was also on Enjin’s request that Y/n wasn’t allowed to be alone until she could prove her use to the team once more. He had a hunch that if he went easy on her and gave her the time to “relax”, she’d spend the time unwisely by mourning for a future that had never existed—a future unlived.
“My logic is that you can’t brood over things if you’re too busy fighting for your life everyday, y’know.” His voice echoed at the back of her head.
Y/n sat in the Jeep beside the window while recollecting her interaction with the captain on the night of Rudo’s welcome party. After she had finished writing down her journal entry, Enjin had found her stalking the hallways instead of going to her room. She could remember the concerned frown on his face yet chose to sat beside her anyway rather than returning to the party.
“I don’t really know what battles you’re dealing with right now but I know that isolating yourself all the time is probably not gonna help with anything. These type of convos are the worst ‘cause most of the time I don’t even know what to tell ya, but they’re just as important so I’ll say this stuff only ‘cause I think you need it. I’m your captain for a reason, aren’t I?” Enjin’s voice lowered as he slung an arm over her shoulders to bring her closer, noticing how she tried to shuffle away discreetly.
But what would Enjin know? He’s just an outsider after all. Y/n remained silent that night, leaving the conversation to unravel on its own. Her thoughts were louder than the lack of words she could give him, and he was reading through her as if she were an open book; a book that was hidden purposely behind other much cleaner and prettier books because of her damaged covers and torn pages. Hidden only because no matter how horrible Y/n’s story was, she didn’t have the heart to end it so quickly.
She was selfish, and that’s what made her so disgustingly human.
Y/n hated it—being perceived by anyone, really. Calling out for help was the equivalent to bleeding in front of a blood-lustful vampire in the stories she’s read. To be seen means to be vulnerable; like lying down on a busy road with the expectation of cars avoiding to turn you into roadkill. And no matter how many times she tried to hide herself, Enjin was just as stubborn as her and always found a way. Even if it takes months or possibly years. The red string of fate had her throat already collared to him; the wielder. Another reason she had returned. If he wanted to, he could pull hard enough to strangle her. Enjin had all the power in the world to put Y/n’s life into shambles if he truly understood what storms raged on in Y/n’s mind.
Now these are the thoughts of what a guilty person twisted and sickening enough would most definitely think of.
Because in another universe, if Y/n had exchanged her fear for a confidence so charming, she could have the potential to bring Enjin’s life into ruins had she learnt anything about his past. But it would be futile knowing that her self-hatred would remain even if she decided to do something bad. Not that he deserved it anyway.
“From now on, you’re banned from being alone for at least a month just until I can trust you enough so you’ll stop disappearing. Man, do you know how hard it is to find you? You’re like some kinda ghost—hovering around us but never making an appearance. Makes me worry ‘cause one day I might not be able to find you anymore. That’s when I’ll know I’ve failed as your mentor.” Enjin murmured, the last sentence a soft rumble from his chest as he turned his face away. Was he feeling vulnerable at the time? People do that a lot to hide their thoughts that could be seen from their expressions.
Maybe Enjin was a good man?
“Ahem, but anyway! From now on, you’re only allowed to go out if someone’s with you. Kinda like babysitting but I absolutely refuse to let a diamond like you move to Bro’s team. You’re way too old for that. Captain’s orders, ‘kay?”
That was satire. Enjin was still a turd face after all.
The stars shone brightly that night. They weren’t stars, but Y/n liked to think otherwise even with the knowledge that those lights came from the street lamps and neon signs in the distance. Like a small ounce of hope that told her there were plenty of cities she could run off to if required.
“Don’t glare at me like that, yeesh! If you think about it, I’m saying this for your own benefit and also giving you the chance to get more money in your bank account. Be prepared for more missions ‘cause I’m gonna work you to the bone. And if you don’t have any motivation, then…”
Y/n closed her eyes, remembering the warmth of his tobacco breath brushing against her ear as he leaned in. She could still remember how his hand moved down to her hip that night, too. Most likely accidental.
“Use your first paycheck to pay me back instead of going on that date with Semiu, got it?”
He was an absolute jerk! Completely aware that the reason why she even bothered to come back was entirely for the purpose of getting some cash back in her wallet. It was exhausting seeing flies buzzing from her pockets. Saying that you want to work with a large company to achieve life long goals and achieve any transferable skills for the future sounded too superficial. The only “goal” she had so far was to pay back the debt and go with the flow from there until the mere thought of leaving her room would exhaust her.
Right—she still had to fix up her room.
But perhaps after that conversation, something within her had shifted the negativity to become more profitable. More productive. Perhaps it was high time that Y/n began to do things for the plot once again. Being a little reckless sparks creativity in dramatic explosions rather than small flickers of light. And what Y/n needed right now was a fucking missile.
The sound of the radio turning off grabs Y/n’s attention as she stares at the rearview mirror, locking glances at the pair of pale honey eyes staring back at her. Tamsy, the driver for today, sat beside Delmon who had his arms crossed and shoulders tensed up. The car filled with silence for a long second or two as Y/n analysed the expression Tamsy wore on his face—or rather, Tamsy was the one analysing her in that short respiratory moment of peace.
Until finally, the silence was interrupted by Tamsy who lifted the corners of his mouth to form a smile: “You’ve been inactive for a while. I assume you had a reason for that.”
Y/n nodded her head quietly in admission, thumbing the clip attached to her pen lid. Those warm eyes of Tamsy’s were always on her, come to think of it. Whether she’d be drinking a glass of water or reflecting on her day, those honey irises were never not on her unless she wasn’t in action. Honey was a sweet delicacy she could get addicted to if it were a drug. But the chances of having her hands on nature's candy was akin to watching the Sphere suddenly explode on her birthday; an impossible dream that she could only ever write about. Except this wasn’t just any type of honey. Say that you were a bear in a research facility, the honey was a trap to lure you in. Tamsy wasn’t looking at her in amusement. He was watching her in curiosity.
Y/n sighed inwardly, There’s that weird look on his face again. I should’ve pretended to sleep.
“DON’T YOU WORRY, YOUNG Y/N! WE’LL TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOU SO DON’T BE SCARED TO SHOUT AT US FOR HELP!!” Delmon’s voice boomed, making both Tamsy and Y/n flinch in surprise.
“Pipe it down, will you?!” Tamsy glared at Delmon. He then let out a long exhale to calm himself, looking back at Y/n with a look of observation, “Anyway, Y/n, Enjin insisted that you come along, but I’m a little… worried. Six months is a lot, and if anything happens to us because somebody forgot how to function, no one’s gonna come back alive.”
To the ordinary eye, Tamsy’s words were honest and realistic. There were no concerns in what he said besides the truth. Yet to an observer like Y/n, the ominous tone that was barely hidden inside his smooth voice was not unnoticed. She understood what Tamsy really meant even if the true veracity was hidden in a path that only experienced eyes could tell: Don’t hold us back. No, that doesn’t seem like something Tamsy would say to her specifically.
Don’t fuck up.
At last, the three arrived at the deserted battlefield once the winds began to pick up. In routine, Y/n clasps her oxygen mask first before fumbling with her full face mask. No matter how often she had to wear it, the mask was always the most difficult part to wear (apart from wearing her uniform properly, of course). As it tilts, Tamsy doesn’t hesitate to reach out to adjust her lopsided mask. An black and white steel mask with downturned crescents for her to look through. On the right side where the ivory had been refurnished and polished after discolourising, an obsidian tear was painted beneath the hole. Beneath her gas mask, a wide upturned smile was painted almost ear to ear.
A pierrot’s masquerade of eccentric melancholy. Much befitting for a naivety like her who tries to flirt with death.
Slender fingers extended to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear with much calm nonchalance which was part of the routine he was used to whenever going on a mission with the girl. Until she decided she was independent enough to swat his hand away just the slightest; not enough to hurt but enough to make that flicker of warmth in Tamsy’s eyes falter like a lamp of illusion.
“It’s fine. I can do it.” Y/n assured quietly, her head turning away as she adjusted the straps of her mask properly for once.
For an unsettling second, Tamsy didn’t smile at her autonomy. It was uncalled for but the smile soon returned with a hint of fascination in his eyes.
“Right, then.” Tamsy trailed off, “Delmon, me and Y/n are gonna finish this off quickly so you can stay here in case anything happens to our ride back home. Got it?”
“Leave it to me!!”
And so, the pair left the vehicle and paced off towards their destination.
That was a lie, by the way. There was no destination in mind and Tamsy hadn’t mentioned any specifications about where they would be fighting. Besides the only detail Y/n could remember, trash beasts liked to move; so this entire field was a battlefield with the habitations of little to few.
It didn’t help that Tamsy was quiet the entire time either. Y/n did her best to match his pace because for some odd reason, he was walking awfully a lot slower than she had expected. Nevertheless, her anxiety was having a fucking fieldtrip right now because these monsters could kill her if she was the slightest bit clumsy. Enjin was really cruel for sending her here already when she wasn’t the least mentally prepared. Well, that’s what she thought. But you can’t always be prepared for a life that doesn’t follow a determined path, so going with the flow is the only way to survive down here. That was the mindset for a typical experienced Cleaner.
Y/n’s mind drifted everywhere but the mission. What if she fell right in front of Tamsy and embarrassed herself and the future generations? Or what if she throws up her food because of all this anxiety? It was a contradiction that the more she tried to think about it, the more she felt like dying was the best course of action. But the less she thought about it, the more her stomach continued to churn which gave her no choice but to think. It was a goddamn paradox!
The soft thuds behind her had halted, Y/n turning her head back immediately after being distracted from her inner turmoil. Or rather, they had ceased to stop for a while now. Tamsy was a good few meters away from her, his figure looking small with his hands concealed by his long sleeves.
“Tamsy? What’re you—”
Before Y/n could finish, a small stampede of trash beasts came running at her from behind. While trivial in quantity, these monsters weren’t like anything she had fought before. Quite literally duplicates of the exact same beasts she had remembered, yet thrice the size.
“I guess this is where we part ways.” A smile bled into his voice, watching how Y/n snapped her head between himself and the beasts zeroing in almost comedically. “I’ll leave it to you, angel.”
“You can’t be kidding me!” Y/n exclaimed, triggering her Shiki to metamorphose into her signature claymore.
Tamsy was way too far now, leaving Y/n with nobody to fend but herself. The monsters came bulldozing at her and while it would’ve been appropriate to focus on the beasts, Y/n could only hypothesize why the hell her partner would leave her alone. Was he trying to kill her?
Did he want her to die?
Gripping her sword tightly in both hands, Y/n leapt into the air with her blade tilting horizontally. Using the force of her shoulders, she swung the blade at the throats of the monsters swiftly, using the sharp tip to gouge their glowing rustic eyes out. Y/n ran across the desert, her skirt fluttering in the air and revealing her heavy boots as she sliced through their legs with all her might.
A sharp pain barged into her side as a bull-like beast threw her high into the air, wooden mouth opening as wide as possible that you could almost hear its jaw creaking as it tried to chomp the girl. At that period, time had slowed down and everything was moving in slow motion. Y/n would die either way in every scenario she could possibly think of. Whether by falling to her death or by falling quite literally to her death, these unruly beasts weren’t the typical beasts that she had fought before.
Everything looked so small from the beasts to Tamsy. Tamsy. She had nearly forgotten about him. From the silky hair he had always kept tied up to the gentle look in his eyes, Y/n felt a burning hatred for him that blazed so brightly that it was incapable of being anything but an illusive passion. Their eyes locked and Y/n began to think, Where had she seen those eyes before? There was nothing gentle about Tamsy at all apart from the web of lies that he carefully threads with his beloved Tokushin; a spider who trapped its prey with sweet nothings and empty promises.
But Y/n refused to die so pathetically, eyes glowing a radiant e/c.
The full face mask she had worn herself slipped into the mouth of the beast below, crushed to smithereens as an example of what could’ve been her. Wrinkles formed in the corner of her crescent-turned eyes as she grinned at him, seeing through his illusions and schemes. This was no betrayal. This was a test—a test to see whether Y/n was really worthy of being here at the scene. How utterly obnoxious yet amusing Tamsy was for returning the smile which finally reached his eyes. A cold yet calculating gaze as he waved at her with faux innocence.
By now, however, Y/n was way too close to the monster's mouth and felt her legs heating up from the proximity towards the metal teeth. She could feel the hot stench of its aura almost baking her revealed skin. Yet no matter how hard she fought, Y/n was weak. No, it wasn’t a matter of weakness or not. She was clearly outnumbered and momentarily betrayed, leaving her one step closer to Death’s door. And worst of all, Shiki had transformed back into a measly pen leaving her completely armless.
The Reaper's door had opened as the monster had shut its mouth with a loud bang.
The amusement in Tamsy’s eyes faded away in an instant as he watched the death unfold, none of the beasts noticing him at all as if he were the perpetrator of it all. Which to say was quite a stretch for now.
Was that it? No encore? No nothing?!
What the actual hell was all that suspense for?!
A sharp exhale left Tamsy’s nose as he turned around with a disappointment that left him irritated. Imagine, downloading a game for hours and as it reaches 99%, it freezes up on you. And to top it all off, before you can even reach 99.9%, the blue screen of death pops up because of a network error. It was one of those unsatisfactory moments in which Tamsy felt like he'd been edged for hours with no climax. Totally bad!
Until a piece of aged paper lands at his feet with barely legible handwriting.
---------------------------------
‘FIVE SENSES: Lots of Shiki’s in the sky (sight), loud metal and collapsing trashbeasts (sound), taste invalid, trash and rotting garbage burnt to the floor (scent), heavy and sharp swords with pointy tips (touch)...’
[SYSTEM: UNWRITTEN]
Total outcome: ⅘ senses have been utilised.
80% power will be used.
Keiten activated.
---------------------------------
“A prophecy?” He questioned, brows furrowing as he struggled to discern the little to no description on the sheet. “The fuck is this…?” An unamused chuckle escaped him.
Soon after, multiple shadows all alike formed onto the ground in the shape of swords. Tamsy’s head snapped up towards the sky, honey eyes filled with a burning light that soon began to shake his soul. Hundreds of blades all across the sky formed into a halo around him, trembling above the clouds as they slowly pointed towards the centre where the trash beasts had gathered. The claymores looked exactly like Y/n’s vital instrument, yet there were numerous of them all up high. Shaking and palpitating as if they were being held by a strong force.
Tamsy had to run.
His legs sprinted as fast as he could away from the halo yet his desire to witness this miracle made him stumble over his own feet. He looked back as plenty of sharp whistles bled through the air as the swords came crashing down in an instant. In five seconds, each beast had been skewered simultaneously to each of its own death. In three seconds, vital instruments of numerous items plummeted to the ground beneath the clouds of dirt. And in one second, a short woman covered in dirt and torn pieces of plastic in her h/c hair came falling to the ground with an apathetic look of confidence on her face; a f/c journal opened in one hand and a burgundy pen in the other.
Y/n doesn’t write about softening her fall. Her eyes locked onto Tamsy’s who had a look of bewilderment on his own. Her hands move as she scribbles something down in her book quickly and Tamsy flinches, looking down quickly to see ropes around his ankles preventing him from running any further away.
An amused but bitter chuckle left Tamsy’s lips as he struggled to move, noticing that these threads were identical to his own vital instrument, Tokushin. The only difference was that there was a locket on his ankle.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
With a sigh, Tamsy clenched his muscles and opened his arms wide with surrender. Irritation brewed beneath his mask, watching Y/n shove her journal inside her pocket and lift her oxygen mask off for a split second. The glint of something silver pops into her mouth before she slapped the mask back on. And before he could register what had eaten, the girl dived head first into his chest, both grunting loudly at the forceful impact as they skidded across the ground. A sharp crack echoed amidst their fall and Tamsy had hoped that it wasn’t from either of their bones, coughing harshly as Y/n landed on top of his chest.
After the dust had settled, Tamsy winced in pain and grabbed her hips firmly, pushing her off his chest and onto his stomach instead. The two groaned in pain and Y/n sat up dizzily, swaying as the land spun around her. But suddenly, the ground vibrated as a stubborn trash beast came running towards them, refusing to die just like Y/n.
“Get off me already. You’re heavy.” Tamsy coughed, sitting up immediately with his hand guiding to the small of her back.
Y/n looked back at the beast then returned her gaze onto Tamsy, a plotting look of similar mischief appearing in the faux innocence in her eyes. A splitting image of Tamsy prior to this incident.
“I guess this is where we part ways, Tams.” She smirks, hands on his chest as she pushes herself up.
This little bi—
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere!”
Before Y/n could get up, Tamsy had tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her impossibly closer. Her hand whacked him in the face in surprise, his full mask slipping off and revealing an annoyed smirk he mirrored off hers.
“Where’s the damn key, angel?” He asked gruffly.
“I ate it.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Tamsy rolled his eyes with a harsh sigh. Suddenly, his hand grabbed her jaw as he tore off her mask without warning, thumb pressed firmly onto her tongue as he searched her mouth. Drool gathered around her lips and leaked as he finally found what he was looking for: the key which was hidden beneath her tongue.
Grabbing the key quickly, Tamsy shoved Y/n to the ground unapologetically, ignoring how she gagged and spat out dirt and dust before putting her mask back on. With a faint click, the lock opens and he stands up with a hand pulling the scruff of her collar alongside. The beast was inches away and swung its paw at Tamsy, but he was a second too slow as Y/n slices it cleanly with her sword.
“Nice save, angel.”
Y/n side eyed him, then scoffed quietly: “No worries, princess.”
A childish nickname befitting for somebody who stands around looking pretty all day. Y/n was certain he hated her.
The ride back home was no better than the fight with Delmon asking multiple questions about the lost cause of Y/n’s missing mask. For a man so gentle with a pure love for gardening, Delmon had a voice that thundered louder than the trash beasts. Furthermore, the longer she kept her eyelids open, the stronger the pounding in her head grew. Y/n never realised when her constant migraines became so strong but it must’ve been the consequence from using a special skill on the beasts before.
By using Keiten, her journal grants her the power of writing dreams into reality—an enabler for a world of illusions of some sort. There are hundreds of senses within the human body including internal and external feelings, yet her vital instrument centralises on the five: eyes, ears, mouth, nose—and touch (intentionally written that way). The more senses she can use and remember closely, the more realistic the illusion becomes. And the more realistic her illusion becomes, the closest it gets to becoming reality.
An example would be the candy she had eaten the night before.
A lime marble as small as half an inch; its exterior a chrysalis of sweet hardened aventurine. Inside, a thick dark syrup of dark blue oozed out from the centre. More sour than a lemon, and almost as acidic as toxic waste, you would think that it was made of battery acid which isn't entirely wrong. But instead, it was a mystery ingredient Y/n had only tried once and became addicted to its flavour. Candy wasn't a delicacy anyone could acquire so easily here on the Ground.
Now, that alone was a description that speaks of all of her senses, thus how she was able to recreate those sweets so accurately. The more senses, the more perfect her creation was.
But in other cases where she cannot recollect all five senses, the illusion remains as an illusion and cannot reach its full potential. It takes up a lot of brain power as her memories are tested again and again. Sometimes it would put her into a coma or even make her nose bleed. Worst case scenario, Y/n’s potential to bend the laws of reality could possibly even kill those around her including herself. It was a relief that she was hired to be a Cleaner in the first place.
However, the brain is a mysterious tool which can create fake scenarios and movies on its own. If Y/n chooses to, she could convince herself with lies and genuinely believe them by gaslighting herself continuously until it becomes only natural. Not all senses are accurate; some are overwhelmed by another that it dominates the entire memory.
Like the candy, you would mostly remember that it was unbearably sour. Y/n managed to convince herself that the candy was green. In reality, it could've been purple or blue. It could've been not candy at all and just a sickening taffy she had her hands on! But that was a truth that Y/n didn't need to focus on, for the honest truth was that the candy was now green; so in conclusion, it will remain green. Until she decides to change its colour on a whim.
With her eyes constantly fluttering, Y/n’s head felt heavy and fell onto a relaxed shoulder. A hand moved to the other side of her head to fix her position, only for her to recoil and pull away, eyes looking up with alertness. She had forgotten that Tamsy decided to sit beside her on the way back with all that thinking just now. It was no surprise she forgot that he existed for a good five minutes.
“You seem quite exhausted. Not enough sleep?” Tamsy glanced at her, crescent eyes staring down at her.
It felt like not long ago he didn’t just try to indirectly kill her. Had Tamsy grown an ego so large that it gave him the confidence to pretend that nothing bad just happened thirty minutes ago? A soft scoff left Y/n’s lips at his level of audacity: it seemed that he was only on his best behaviour now that she had pleased him with her skills to continue to survive. Once you carve something into your brain, your heart remembers just the same. Or perhaps it was because she wasn’t that special and Tamsy didn’t really care much about her ability to save herself, and that it was Delmon that he was more concerned about. People behave more around an audience, it seems.
Y/n rubbed her temples and nodded slowly, “It's fine… I just need another coffee.”
“IF YOU'RE FEELING TIRED, YOU'RE WELCOME TO SLEEP NOW, YOUNG Y/N!! I'LL TURN OFF THE RADIO FOR YOU!”
“Delmon, you're not helping.” Tamsy deadpanned.
Y/n sighed, the exhaustion creeping up the back of her neck. While born as stubborn as a mule, she knew the limits to her human body. The dark shadows dancing in the corner of her eyes which she tried so desperately to ignore was an obvious sign that it was time to give in. Tamsy looked at her with a slight raise of his brows, noticing the burdened sigh she let out. His hand reached out again but this time more gently, pulling her to his shoulder once again with that same nonchalance he always bore.
“It's pointless to ignore your own body begging you for a break.” He said, scrutinising the hesitance from how Y/n tensed up. “Resting isn't a bad thing so use this chance while you can.”
“I know… I'm just…” She sighed, the words fading before she could find them.
“You know you want to. Come.”
There’s nothing wrong with sleeping and Y/n was aware of that. She was also aware of the fact that her intrusive thoughts are built on the slim chances of dying in her sleep which is quite rare but not always impossible. Being self-aware but incapable of stopping yourself from thinking in such a way; it was like having full control of a ship but choosing to go nowhere besides the large iceberg of doom.
But sleeping on Tamsy’s shoulder is what made her hesitate. He must’ve gotten used to the stench of the trash beasts or was holding his breath the way she was as well. It was like her body refused to breathe to its full potential hence why she couldn’t really smell her own scent. Maybe she was just lucky that the stink had gotten away quickly through moving so much. However it works, Y/n was too tired to think anymore.
Knowing that she could either become a walking dead with her growing sluggish movements slowing her down or finally breaking the cycle and letting her body choose whether it wants to wake up. Otherwise, she could stay asleep permanently which was a predicament she had no choice but to think about. Yet she would have to find out by succumbing to sleep and gambling with the chances of life or death. It isn’t exactly gambling—just a tactical response based on human patterns of survival.
Plus, his shoulder looks really comfortable as well…
Reluctantly, Y/n rubbed her cheek against his shoulder before her eyes grew heavier. His hand was caressing her lashes, dragging them down gently until they fully closed. And finally, her breathing evened out which allowed Tamsy to rest his arm carefully around her shoulder.
“She's finally asleep…” Tamsy whispered, taking in the way her chest rose and fell. The peaceful look on her face and the dark crescents below her lashes that begged to go away…
With Tamsy sitting in a seat where Delmon couldn't see him fully, the blond man grinned ear to ear, his tongue tracing around the pearl of his piercing in a quiet cheer of success. Eyes squinting as he took in the slight drool leaking from the corner of her lips.
“What a dumb bunny…” He chuckled softly, careful to not awaken her.
“Huh? Did you say something, Tamsy?!”
Tamsy glared at the back of Delmon’s seat, “Shut up. Angel’s sleeping.”
Delmon peeked over his shoulder quietly, a hint of guilt for nearly waking the poor girl up. Yet his eyes caught something. His partner was smiling so cheerfully it was almost uncanny. But what Delmon really focused on was the younger man swiping up the bit of drool on Y/n’s soft lips before bringing it up to his own, tongue darting out to taste her. Surely his eyes were mistaken.
He looked back at the road, muttering nonsense to himself about how he was getting old or how he's reached an age where his eyes weren't as great as they were when he was in his youth. The poor man didn't seem to understand that his eyes were working just fine unfortunately.
Twelve months before Y/n’s disappearance~
It wasn't often that Tamsy would receive any visits from his co-workers. Despite living closely to the other Cleaners, everyone was always too busy prioritising themselves to really come see him. But in all honesty, that was because people here especially understand the need for privacy and alone time having been forced to live in conditions where your coworker is your neighbour. It was expected to not intrude on other people's lives unless they opened the door for you especially.
Tamsy knows that he got along with everyone. He would even get visits from his other coworkers whenever they needed an extra hand or were just checking up on him. No one of course made it past the border of his door. Beyond those walls lived a Tamsy that would be hated or even feared by his current so-called friends. A man who lives his life as an observer and a puppeteer of emotions. Tamsy never truly connected with any of the Cleaners, because in reality?
Everyone was boring.
That smile on his face truly hid the sinister feelings in his chest. He hated people who acted on an impulse because they were idiots who lacked the ability to think, but he also disliked those who were too predictable because he was able to detect every single pattern of their life based on a single conversation. If he were to choose between the two, who would he love more? The one who barks, or the one who bites?
Neither. Tamsy wasn’t interested in anyone who could divide themselves into a specific audience. Additionally, he was too self-centered to truly care how others think unless it amused him; the more stupid, the funnier. Tamsy lived for entertainment, and these brainless coworkers of his were the jesters serving in his royal court. Yes, he knows some were clever, but are they truly intelligent if he can read them? For him, an intelligent person would be someone like him who was self-aware of his own flaws and strengths and capabilities. Someone like…
Tamsy snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a faint knock to his door, sighing from the disruption as he put on his mask once again. His cheek bones were starting to ache from all the smiling he’s been doing today. Could this idiot behind the door not understand that he was on his break? What a pain in the ass.
The door swung open a little too aggressively—his mistake—yet the sweet and angelic smile on his face remained. Honey eyes widened with surprise as he stared down at what could’ve been a walking dead but was really just a younger woman on the verge of passing out. E/c eyes glued to his chest, too exhausted to look up at him, and dark shadows beneath that made her face pale in complexion.
“Can I help you with something, Y/n?” He raised a brow.
Y/n nodded and sighed heavily, finally raising her head to look at him. A jolt sent down Tamsy’s spine as he scanned the contemptuous scowl on her face—something he wasn’t used to because everyone quite literally liked him. He stood up straight and crossed his arms, a tilt of his head as he prepared to listen. He wondered what was going on in her mind right now, but the irritation he felt was bubbling quickly inside of him.
Tamsy never liked Y/n. She was her own category of people he’d rather avoid, and not because she wasn’t impulsive nor intrusive. No, it was because every time he looked into those e/c eyes, Tamsy could see a reflection of himself inside there. Thinking, wondering, conspiring. Where had he seen those eyes before besides the mirror he uses every morning he washes his face? He felt seen and that’s what made Y/n an anomaly of her own genre of quiet destruction.
“I need your help, Tamsy. You’re the only person I can rely on right now.” Y/n’s eyes softened, her brows furrowed in hopelessness.
A look of surprise appeared onto Tamsy’s face before fading into one of curiosity and slight amusement.
“Only something I can do? What do you mean by that?”
Y/n sighed heavily, her voice hardening with determination: “Your Tokushin—it can tie people up, right? Th-that’s what your vital instrument can do, right? Right?”
“Slow down, first. And yes, it can. But why do you need it so badly?”
The girl looked around in frustration, paranoia lurking within her pupils as she scanned the halls for any potential eavesdroppers. Her hand dragged down the side of her face and she took a deep breath to calm herself.
“I need you to use Tokushin on me. I know it might sound weird but I genuinely cannot sleep right now. I’m on the verge of passing out and I’m scared of accidentally overdosing on the sleeping pills Eisha gave me. Please help me fall asleep. I’m begging you!”
Begging? He smirked.
“You know, I don’t really like to use my vital instrument on my dear friends.” Tamsy sighed with his brows furrowing with faux concern, “But because you’re so desperate, I would be a terrible man to leave you alone to suffer. Anyway, watch your step.”
Tamsy stepped aside and opened the door enough just for the girl to walk inside, eyes scanning her head to toe while discerning how he could make the most of this opportunity. The door clicked shut as he locked the door behind them, watching Y/n look back with her delayed reaction of confusion.
“Just to avoid getting interruptions. You can sit on the bed while I get my jinki. Tell me more about what it is that you want me to do.”
Y/n nodded hesitantly before sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes scanning around his room with a tired curiosity. Clean and very well-kept. Nothing out of place and items that defined her perception of what type of man she believed he would be. He was quite simple on the outside in her thoughts. After explaining her intense situation with her insomnia, Y/n lied down on his bed without much thought until she realised that the man was letting her do so much in his own room.
The few times Y/n had ever really spoken to him, she would always struggle with reading his face. Usually the eyes were the window to his soul, but it was as if she was staring at a one-way mirror of her own. Her curiosity grew the longer she wondered what he could possibly want because the most she could comprehend was that Tamsy was always wanting something. Whatever it could be, she wanted to understand him a little more so she could avoid getting on his nerves because causing trouble with her co-workers would be a pain for her.
It was a surprise that Tamsy was willing to help her to this extent. There was a seed planted in her mind which believed that he didn’t like her but that didn’t stop her from wanting to know more about him. As much as she isolated herself from others, Y/n could contradict her own weaknesses with a curiosity like hers. Learning more about people was always good for her own side-gig.
Little did she know that Tamsy was watching her just the same, eyes analysing her breathing and the flutter of her eyelids as she tried to stay awake. The pillow smelled like him—fresh linen and a dark earthy musk that belonged only to Tamsy. Ever so slowly with Tokushin in Tamsy’s hand, the ropes began to dance onto Y/n’s limbs, creeping up on her until they wrapped around her. Her wrists were beside her head and her legs stretched out, the threads tightening from a small flinch.
“The more you move, the tighter they get. So it’s best if you just give up and let it happen.” Tamsy loomed over her, watching the ropes tie her to the bed.
Y/n felt herself struggle only more, the ropes itching against her skin through her clothes. That’s when she realised how close Tamsy’s face was to hers. Were his eyes always so dark? There was an unsettling gleam in his glance which only made the smile on his face appear rather disconcerting. Then, a cold chuckle.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m doing so much for you, right?” Tamsy pointed out, his hand moving to caress the side of her face so gently. He snickered quietly while watching her eyelids flutter weakly. “Well that’s because you don’t seem to realise how I could do anything I want to you right now.”
Y/n’s heart dropped. Did she make the wrong choice of reaching out for help for once?
Tamsy sighed and removed his hand, the unsettling face he wore faded quickly with one of indifference and boredom. “I’m kidding. Don’t look at me like I’m about to commit a crime. I’m not that typa person…”
“What are you implying, then?” Y/n murmured, feeling her body obliging to the laws of Tokushin’s bounds.
By relaxing, she only felt her heart race more from confusion but the thoughts in her head blurring and fuzzing up from exhaustion. Before she could realise it, her eyelids were drooping and her head felt heavy against the soft pillows. Once she couldn’t open her eyes anymore, Y/n finally gave in to the sleep that her body had long-awaited for. Peace enveloping her entirety, beyond drained from surviving that she couldn’t even dream.
Tamsy turned his head back to the sleeping figure, cautious to not make any sudden movements that could wake her. A slight tug on the side of his lips stretched, a huff of air leaving his nostrils with soft mirth. She looked so quiet—and not in a way that meant she was quite literally unconscious right now. Y/n was always so quiet and Tamsy knew that. But what he really meant was that Y/n no longer appeared as if she were fighting with any thoughts in her head. What a pleasant face she made like this.
The floorboards creaked quietly beneath him the closer he reached her, his head moving closer to examine the faint flutter of her lashes. The arrogant smile was placid across his face as he watched barely inches away. There was that putrid feeling in his chest which bubbled the longer he stared at her. It was a rancid emotion that filled his veins with a burning passion and almost made his face go sick with green.
With her guard down like this, he truly did have the power to do anything as he pleased. What was an unconscious girl supposed to do? He chuckled silently, his fingers twitched around the strand of h/c hair he tugged on. Haha, she didn’t even wake up from that. It was hard to control himself around Y/n when she was so… so…
“You’re so fucking cute, Y/n.” He whispered, not even processing what he said.
The smile faded away quickly into a disgusted frown. But shortly after, Tamsy’s gaze softened in realisation.
That horrible feeling in his chest wasn’t hatred. His heart wouldn’t be thumping so violently against his ribcage like this, making his blood boil with passion. It was so overwhelmingly sweet that it made him feel absolutely sick. With the way Y/n looked at him so much with those questioning doe eyes of hers, Tamsy bit his lip with an excitement which unsettled him that he visibly recoiled from touching her skin again. He wanted to ruin her so badly that she would have no choice but to rely entirely on him. To absolutely fucking destroy her until she was as useless as a puppet. A performer who only danced entirely just for him. Him!
But alas, Tamsy couldn’t ruin her now of all times. Ruining someone while they’re asleep was sick. He was too good for that. Wasn’t he the angel of the Cleaners? Hah, fucking bullshit. He wouldn’t dare to satisfy this hunger for her until he could properly corrupt her. That’s right; he needed a plan. A plan to keep Y/n all to himself. Perhaps even transferring her to Team Eager, or perhaps even convincing her to work full-time just like him so she’ll never leave his sight. He couldn’t afford to let her run away so much. He’ll make it his personal goal to help her through whatever depressive slump—he truly didn’t care about—and ruin her only more. Tamsy needed to know how Y/n would act in a moment of utter helplessness, needed to know if she would still look at him the same way, and needed to know if she truly is as stupid as he believes.
Because this putrid feeling wasn’t hatred. No, it was too sweet for something so horrible. It was love. A love that burned so brightly that it bordered on hatred, hence why he misunderstood his feelings towards Y/n as detestation. A love like a drug that slowly kills a person the more they surrender to addiction. A love as innocent as a wolf staking its claim on a bleeding lamb torn to shred. This was Tamsy’s declaration of devotion towards worshipping Y/n where he would make her his goddess; and gods can’t exist without any prayers in church…
For Tamsy was in love.
a/n: no chapters until i beat 97k on block blast (serious). i don't like tamsy tbh. but manipulative and conniving characters like him are very fun to read about. chapter is inspired by 'Sweet Trap' by HOYO-MIX and 'We Both Reached For The Gun' from Chicago The Musical and 'Hellfire' by FEVER333! Needed a chaotic vibe to show Y/n's super duper cool moves. this took lots of energy out of me.
taglist: OPEN. let me know through whatever is convenient for you, my loves.
summary: enjin is in denial that the cutie is actually a meanie who doesn't like his banana themed boxers. you also almost jump him btw. sheesh, talk abt anger issues or something. ur daddy buys him sorta. or the whole hq idk. this does NOT follow the official plot of gachiakuta btw guys. please read the previous chapter before this here. (wc: 6922)
note: please remember that this story is EXPERIMENTAL. i am not taking this seriously. check more info for the story here.
"NO, NO, NO! THAT IS ABSOLUTELY NOT HAPPENING!" Enjin’s voice, an inconvenient grumble that bellowed louder with each step he took.
With one hand he gripped Umbreaker tightly, fingers going white from how tense he was squeezing the vital instrument. In the other, he was dragging a poor girl who had her arms crossed by the scruff of her collar. Her? Moving in with him? Yeah, no. We don’t do that sort of stuff down here. Enjin in particular didn’t like having roommates; behind the doors of his room is a man hidden beneath the all-smiling facade that his teammates heavily depend on. He couldn’t afford to have anyone—nevertheless, a brat of a stranger—move in with him without any news.
“Yep, it’s aaaaall just one big massive mistake!”
Enjin quite literally throws the woman in front of him to avoid getting bitten by her (was she a rabid?), eyes narrowing on the nonchalance on the receptionist's face as she read her porn magazines. Now was not the time to goon, Semiu! The blond man stormed forward before slamming his hand on the desk, a loud bang rudely grabbing everyone’s attention nearby.
“Can you please tell me why the hell there’s a little rat in my quarters?!” Enjin exclaimed, thick brows deeply furrowed as he tried to get Semiu to divert her gaze away from the bikini-clad model of her magazine. Damn it, he got spoiled!
Semiu flicked to another page which made the captain immediately avoid looking at the booklet in her slender hands, “Like I said already—that rat is your new teammate. Or actually, she’s your new boss… for now. You’ll learn to treat her with respect.”
“Absolutely not. I’ve literally just finished with helping Rudo flee the nest and now you’re telling me I gotta babysit another kid? I don’t have anyone to mentor her and she’s far too stuck up for me to even want her here. Take her back.”
It never occurred to him how the chances of Semiu making a mistake was almost impossible. You would have flying donkeys and raining monkeys before Semiu could create an error. As the only receptionist of the Cleaner’s HQ, she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes being the entire one-man team working backstage. Without her, the entire organisation would crumble as she held the key to make the cogs turn in the first place.
So if Semiu were to say that this stranger who was glaring daggers at Enjin right now was his new teammate, would her words be akin to one of a lord? Enjin took a step back, regaining his composure with a heavy exhale. There was no point in fighting this when Semiu had as much power as Corvus—she was quite literally his second boss. The man analysed the deep wrinkles on the h/c-ette’s face, her frown growing more prominent with every passing second. And just as he was about to negotiate, the woman stomped her foot onto the ground before charging at Enjin. He tensed up, almost seeing a backdrop of a blazing carmine fire burning brightly behind her until there was barely any space left between them.
“You’re pretty sho—”rt. Short.
Enjin’s head painfully turned to the side as he felt the world around him spin; a sharp throbbing pain growing exponentially at his dimpled cheek as he stumbled back. Inked fingers immediately cupped the side of his face as he looked back at her with shock and impending doom. Another stomp, she charged at him with her petite fist in the air—such a small and delicate hand, yet it could definitely pack a punch. Enjin raised his hands in the air while backing up quickly, intimidated by the shorter figure in front of him.
“Wait, wait, wait! Hold on just a sec! Let’s talk, okay? You wanna be my new teammate?!” He desperately tried to reason, lips curling into a wide grin and eyes closing into crescents that blatantly didn’t even try to hide his superficiality.
“How dare you?! As a man, you’re supposed to treat me with more care and be a gentleman! You’re absolutely horrible! The worst of the worst! I’ll have your head by twilight if you don’t get down on your knees and apologise to me in this instance!”
Abruptly, the woman took a diagonal step until she was by his side facing his direction. Her leg came crashing down behind Enjin’s knees, making him fall down and kneel before her with his hands atop his thighs in shock.
“Why the hell would I apologise to you if you’re the one being a bitch and attacking me outta nowhere?!” He growled in frustration, head tilted back as he watched her cross her arms in front of him. The obnoxious hmph she let out only made a vein bulge in his forehead in irritation. This girl had the audacity to act like some royal snob in front of him; the Enjin of the Akuta team! “Care to tell me what your name is, princess?”
“Ugh, don’t you know? I’m Y/n. Y/n L/n! But you may refer to me as Lady Y/n. That’s an order, by the way!”
Who does this girl think she is? Enjin let out a blast of air from his nose, nostrils flaring as he clenched his fists tightly. There was a sense of deja vu coming from the sound of her surname, but his attention was wholeheartedly focused on the high and mighty display she presented. Team Akuta is already filled with little brats; but those same brats were the same kids that Enjin put in all his effort and time to polish them into fine gem stones from the rough. He can spot a promising apprentice when he sees one. However, this woman standing before him had no particular value which he could identify apart from the fact that she had the same sort of anger he could correlate to Zanka’s.
But regardless of how many kids Enjin decided to pull in, Y/n was not a child and he could tell from his experience with finding women to flirt with on his days off. Enjin glanced back at Semiu who had stood up, leaning on a wall with her arms crossed and eyes avoiding him; as if she knew the exact curses he was spewing in his head. Enjin absolutely couldn’t care less about women who were needy, but women who were emanating with an anger twice as much as her own size irked him much more. Like, where do you even store all that rage for such a small person? It made no sense to him at all.
“You’re kidding me.” Enjin scoffed harshly, standing up again and looming over the woman with his full six foot stature. A breath of air was forced out of his chest when Y/n shoved him away, offended that he had the sheer impudence to look down at her. He stepped away to create some space, palms open in front of him as a universal display of peace. “I told you that I was going to have a half-month holiday up north, and now you’re telling me all this just now? Semiu, why didn’t you let me know before? Have her transferred to Eager right now. I’m busy enough, thanks.”
Semiu adjusted her glasses before replying, her voice not surprisingly level-headed, yet there was almost a tone of apology in her words. “No can do. These are direct orders from the boss himself.”
“Ain’t no way! You mean Corvus himself asked this?”
“Yeah! Got a problem with that, mop head?!” Y/n joined in.
The two entered a stare down competition, each glaring at each other with venomous hatred. Poisonous words that would contaminate the air around them will continue to grow as both refused to cease their heated debate. Enjin refused to have someone as horrid as her on his team. From the moment he locked eyes on her, he immediately understood that Y/n was unbearable! And it was no different to Y/n, for she absolutely despised the man for his impolite and manhandling behaviour. How dare he not identify who she is from the iris on her tag? No, even more than that. How dare he have the balls to call her a little bitch?! Oh, she was livid.
“I’m gonna castrate you tonight! Just you—”
“Now what seems to be the problem here, hm?” A calm low voice gravelled in the room, ceasing everyone from their noxious disputes.
Immediately, both Enjin and Y/n turned their heads to see Corvus who had just entered the scene. But what caught his attention was the prominent Hell Guard in full uniform, the red accentuated from the seams and the long coat that reached the wooden planks—barely enough to get dirty and cover himself in the germs of the home of the renowned jinki users of the Ground. Enjin gulped thickly, struggling to keep his composure with the replicate e/c eyes coming from the Hell Guard. His bushy brows furrowed deeply and there were lines etched beside his tall nose, completing the obvious frown he pointed to Enjin.
This was no good—having visits from the Hell Guards, really. It finally made sense to him why the girl had so much entitlement and a temper twice her own size. Enjin called her a princess earlier metaphorically, but he didn’t realise that she was a princess literally, too! He finally recognised where he heard that surname before. L/n was a line of people who worked very closely to the Nijiku family in which Zanka originated from. A family of high ranking individuals who were feared for their lack of probability, but admired for their aptitude to prevent most heinous crimes from even occurring.
The Nijiku’s mostly enforced the law of the jungle from above; a massive eye that watches everyone to follow the safety protocols to intercept crime—a camera that worked for the welfare of the people. But even cameras had blindspots. You can’t stop them if you’re not physically there at the moment. Having a Hell Guard stand around those areas would be too obvious and ruin the peace around the atmosphere; plus, there were people who were very tricky sneaky bastards that used every opportunity to wreak havoc onto law and order. You had to be clever to nip them in the bud before they could even bloom. What better way to seize control of this situation by blending in with the people themselves?
While it is impossible to not have any crime—it was, however—totally possible to lower the rates of them even occurring. Their ability to hide within the crowd only made them so unpredictable that even the Nijiku’s had to constantly keep a leash on them to know whether they were for the people or for themselves. So seeing a Hell Guard, nonetheless Y/n’s father, Enjin knew he was in deep shit. He really should’ve skipped coming back here just to avoid whatever the hell was about to go down.
The Hell Guards absolutely despised the Cleaners; him especially. That much was obvious from the way Y/n’s father was staring right through his soul like he knew all of his darkest secrets that he didn’t even know existed once. Goosebumps raised on the nape of Enjin’s neck simply through the intense gaze from that man almost as if he wanted him dead.
“Enjin. Y/n.” Corvus nodded at each of them with a kind acknowledgment, a gentle smile on his face.
“Uncle Corvus!” Y/n exclaimed, e/c eyes lighting up with stars as she ran up to the two men.
Uncle? Enjin had accidentally thought aloud, scanning Corvus who greeted the girl with a gentle-firm hand to the crown of her head.
Corvus explained: “We’re not related but I’ve watched Y/n grow a lot since she was a child. She sees me as a relative but that’s because her father, Issen and I, worked closely in the past.”
“So… What brings me the pleasure of getting a visit from a scary—Ahem!—I mean, important Hell Guard like you, sir?”
Enjin looked back at the father with a faltering smile, a terrible attempt to hide his discomfort from him. Of all people, why couldn’t it just be Zanka’s older sister or the girl alone? Not that Y/n was any better, but his day would improve way more if her father was actually a really cute woman that made bearing this whole encounter much tolerable.
While Hell Guards weren’t fond of Cleaners, Corvus had explained that the L/n’s were anomalies that didn’t fit into that category of prejudice. Or rather, it was just Y/n’s father who was mostly interested with the whole concept of being a Giver and being gifted the power as a vital instrument user. Under the guise of visiting Corvus to report about the latest trash beast incidents, Y/n’s father was actually here for a private mission that centralised on Y/n.
It was hard to not keep his focus off Y/n who was only recently behaving ever since she saw her father again. Currently, she was standing on the side with her arms behind her back, a leg crossed over the other as she turned side-to-side. Their eyes suddenly locked and Enjin immediately felt whiplash at her indifferent attitude; as if she weren’t acting as a helion just moments before. He turned his head away with an inaudible scoff, focusing on her father yet again.
“I’d like to make a deal with you, Enjin.” His voice, a rough and unwelcoming gravel that only made Enjin not want to give him a chance to hear him out. Yet he persisted. Why? Corvus was right there. “I’ve heard that Kyouka’s younger brother works as a Giver just like you. There’s not much news about him as you know he’s been fortunately disowned from the family, but—”
“Wait, hold up—fortunately?” Enjin interrupted.
Earning a cold glare from the man to stand down, Issen only took a deep breath to regain his composure before continuing.
“Need I repeat myself? I believe he’s grown quite a lot ever since he left the Hell Guard business, but that’s not the focus. He is no longer a Hell Guard so Young Zanka is out of my concern. My daughter is what you should be focusing on. I assume you’ve familiarised with her already, no?”
Familiarised, my ass! That little bitch socked me in the face five minutes ago! Enjin’s face soured with a hostile scowl, yet obediently nodded his head. It was important to keep himself level-headed anytime anywhere even if he was being rage baited by a woman who had no manners or grace whatsoever. Principally, Enjin understood that out of everyone here, it was Issen who had the most power here so while the ball was in his court, Issen was the owner of the game.
It was out of his genuine concern as a father to want his child to have the best for herself while he was still alive. You could only get so far with the bare strength of Y/n alone without any support. Issen was apprehensive of what would occur if his men didn’t follow Y/n’s orders obediently like the eager dogs he was training them to be. They were all loyal subjects, yes, but only to him only. Not Y/n—him. He needed to take great measures to give Y/n the ability to be absurdly strong that nobody could defeat her, even the Nijiku’s themselves.
Thus why Issen was here. In the act of familial love, Issen was sending his daughter here to learn how to grow without the support of himself acting as a backbone. Or rather, Issen’s main objective was to transform Y/n into the ultimate weapon by being a Cleaner and the daughter of a high ranking official.
What a heartwarming fatherly concern.
“So what you're asking is that you want me to take her as my apprentice and basically show her the ropes on being a Cleaner?” Enjin cocked a brow.
“Asked? Haha, you're quite the funny one aren't you?”
Issen's footsteps were heavy and loud against the wooden planks, slowly stalking closer to the blond man until he was right in front of him. He was much shorter than Enjin yet that didn't faze him. In fact, Enjin had to bend his back just the slightest so he could reach Issen's e/c eyes. There was a cold aura seeping out of every pore Enjin counted off the elder man's face.
“I'm explicitly ordering you to take care of my daughter. Until she learns how to exterminate vermin like you, or as you call them, Raiders, she won't be allowed back home. But fret not, I have made the plans prior to visiting you Cleaner's. I'll transfer the extra money by evening so it would be in your best interest to follow these orders now. Will that be a problem, Corvus?”
“No, of course not. We look forward to having an additional member to the team.”
Enjin’s brows only furrowed deeper as he glanced between the two men, feeling completely out of the loop. Money? He's got enough, doesn't he? He doesn't need any extra cash when being a Cleaner provides a lot for him already.
But where does that money come from, Enjin?
“It appears to be that you are confused. Am I right?” Issen chuckled coldly, a meticulous curve stretching his lips. “This building you're standing on is my property. Well, it will be eventually. I plan to buy it someday but Corvus here refuses to let me. That's no problem as I already provide this business with all the renovations it needs.”
Enjin's eyes shot out almost comically. How could he not realise that sooner? The reason why Issen was even viewed as a rank higher than Corvus was because he funded the entire Cleaner's business. Though between the two, it was common sense that Enjin would give his heart to Corvus without a doubt. That man was for the misfits and the misfits only. But that extra cash could make him a little hotter to the ladies at the bar down the street…
“Alright… I'll do it. But only because if I don’t, that gremlin’s gonna throw another hissy fit.”
The room echoed in silence, until an approving hum left Issen’s lips.
“Very well, then.” He drawled out, a firm hand patting the blond’s shoulder almost too roughly to be considered a friendly action. “I’ll be looking forward to the results. In the meantime, take care of my daughter.”
Enjin exhaled heavily while watching the man exit alongside Corvus who offered to accompany him. Yeah, I’ll take gooooood care of her, alright. His eyes closed into crescents as he waved his farewells slowly. Once the two authoritative figures had left the scene, a wicked smile stretched onto his face, dimples prominent as if he wasn’t planning to do something very reckless and nevertheless stupid.
“You’re not planning to do anything stupid, are you?”
The man looked to his side where Semiu had stood, a hand dragging through the soft buzz of her ashened hair. There was that disapproving frown on her face again—the one that told him everything that she knew exactly what he was scheming to do. He couldn’t help but laugh heartily at her weariness, as if she thought that a question alone would make him reflect on his own actions. Him? Stupid? They’re two synonyms perfectly alike to each other; one might mistake them as separate if they were truly literate at heart (how boring).
“Me? Nooo…?” Enjin grinned, gold eyes drifting to Y/n who was standing by the exit. “I have a perfect plan where absolutely nothing can go wrong.”
Nothing can go wrong, my ass!
Enjin scowled to himself as his long legs carried him across the footpath of the streets. With Umbreaker hanging off the inside of his elbow and both hands in his pockets, he searched the streets mindlessly in hopes for some visual stimulation to change his foul mood. After debating with Semiu (which really felt like a one-sided argument to a wall), he was strictly forbidden from giving Y/n the Rudo treatment. And by the Rudo treatment, that meant dragging her by the hair and ditching her off to some devils under the guise of human traffickers.
He clicked his tongue as he fiddled with the box of cigarettes in his pocket, contemplating when would be a good time to use a smoke. Enjin absolutely hated babysitting duty. What if a cute chick sees him with this… thing?! A vein popped out of his temple as he tried to ignore Y/n’s blabbering— when does this girl stop talking?!
“For the love of—Just shut your damn mouth for a second! I’m tryna think here, but all you keep doing is whining and whining! Shut up, will you?!”
Y/n clenched her jaw, “Whining?! I’m not whining! I’m clearly stating my opinions on something that this city lacks! Like why the fuck’re you bossin’ me around when this place reeks of poorness?! You Cleaners don’t clean enough.”
“You got that wrong, princess. We’re Cleaners that clean trash beasts, not literal trash!”
“Same thing! Janitor, Cleaner… They’re quite literally the same!”
“Uh, no, they’re not.”
“Uh, yes, they are.”
“Uh, no. They’re not.” He growled out slowly.
Enjin loomed over her small stature in hopes that his height would intimidate her. But she wouldn’t budge a single inch from her spot. Instead, Y/n tilted her head back even more just so she could continue remaining eye contact with the man with that petulant glare on her face. Watching her cheeks fume red was unexpectedly hilarious until she stomped her foot in the ground.
“Yeah, the fuck they are!” She exclaimed, then swinging her leg up and sending a roundhouse kick to his bicep.
With a loud grunt, Enjin attempted to defend himself with his hands brought up to carry on the weight, but he only felt himself stumbling with the force of her impact. A sharp intense pain spread across his left arm all the way to his hands and ribs as he sputtered, digging his heels into the ground for stability.
“Ow, what the hell was that for?!”
Y/n huffed, her chest sticking out in pride as she dusted off her hands like he was a germ. “You’re completely wrong so I had to teach you a lesson. Not my fault, by the way! If you had just listened, this wouldn’t have happened. This place is a charity case! It’s full of disgusting little rats that should be exterminated immediately!”
You’ve gotta be kidding me… Enjin stood back up and rubbed his sore arm with a cold gleam in his eyes, the bright light in his eyes turning into a brutal flash of lightning instead.
“Hey, aren’t you the one who genuinely threw a fit because you wanted me to be your stupid tour guide?” His voice lowered.
Y/n rolled her eyes, “Yeah. And?”
“And so why are you complaining if you already knew what was coming?! Two things, how the hell are you gonna be a Cleaner with that damn attitude? And most importantly, you’re not even gonna survive against a trash beast! In fact, I’m betting my last cigarettes that you’ll die before we even step into the danger zones!”
“Absolutely misinformation! I should sue you for defamation! My Father will hear about this!”
Enjin clicked his tongue again and grabbed her by the collar, bringing her in close until he could smell the sweet scent of candy on her tongue. Of course, candy; such a rare delicacy of the Ground so it’s no surprise that she always emits a radiant scent of honey-glazed fruits.
“Yeah, your Daddy’s gonna hear a lot of things like you dying out on the fields because some crazy kid decided to throw a poop-covered plumber at your face. Seriously, though! How did you survive for so long if you’re so picky?”
“Ew! No way, did that actually ever happen to someone?”
“Not the main topic, princess.” Enjin groaned, releasing her and keeping a meter of space between her. He sighs harshly and lights up a cigarette, welcoming the slight buzz in his head to calm his nerves. God, give me the patience to deal with her.
With a smoky exhale, Enjin began to walk again with slower steps—still wide enough for him to be considered a “fast-walker”, though.
“So? You gonna tell me your jinki or what?” He shifted the conversation smoothly, “‘Cause if your bitchy attitude was an object, I’m sure you’d be a gifted user, too. Not that it would get you far. Daddy dearest must spoil you so much that you probably don’t even appreciate the privilege of complaining.”
Y/n stormed after him, throwing what appeared to be a lost shoe from the ground to the back of his head. Bullseye! Hearing his sudden yelp and watching him almost drop his ember stick made her snicker.
“My jinki is none of yer damn business, ugly paintbrush head!”
Immediately, Enjin snapped his head back and scoffed in pure offense. His hand combed through his spiky blond hair back almost like she hit a soft spot, and in a way, perhaps she did.
“Dude, all I asked was a simple question like asking for your name! Even your Dad didn’t tell me a single thing about you except that I’m stuck dealing with you! You’re one cold heartless chick, y’know that?”
“Like I give a rat’s ass about whatchu wanna know! Peasants like you don’t do nothin’ but worship stupid things all day! You’re nothin’ but crazy delusionals in parasocial relationships with shit that can’t even talk!”
Enjin was nothing but patient. Sure, that may be satirical, but the man really tried his best to be a good mentor for the girl. But in a world where you grow up fighting for your life against both man and monster, he genuinely didn’t have the patience to deal with Y/n’s bullshit anymore. In fact, even his cigarettes lasted longer than he normally would. Hence why he couldn’t take this foul level of disrespect anymore.
Enjin hated spoiled brats.
With a loud groan, Enjin throws his hands in the air and turns his back on Y/n. “That’s it! I’ve had it with you and your bitchy attitude! Go fight trash beasts by yourself! Not my problem anymore!”
Brown clouds of dirt floated above the ground as his boots heavily stormed away, ditching Y/n to fend for herself in the streets. So what if Semiu explicitly told him to not leave her alone? So what if Issen threatened to do some crazy shit to the whole company if he didn’t take on this offer?
So what?!
You can’t fix a broken toy if it was specifically built to be broken, and you can’t fix a damaged person if being damaged is the only way they can merely exist. Enjin had no fucks left for him to care about whatever happens to that spoiled brat. She can go suffer on her own!
It was merely hypocritical and just plain stupid. Not even dumb—just abso-fucking-lutely stupid. She wants to be a Cleaner but she can’t even appreciate a single thing around her. Not only that, Y/n doesn’t even believe in the whole concept of being a Giver! Calling Enjin delusional was the cherry on top. He was far from it! Enjin was just a man who holds huge sentimental value over the items that truly matter to him.
Clutching his Umbreaker tighter in his hand, his footsteps only seemed to hurry as he tried to escape the heavy weight of her glare. But it wasn’t just her that he was escaping from. It was the guilt that lingered in the smoke that left his lungs, and the way it haunted his spine knowing that he wouldn’t turn around to face her one more time.
“It’s called having a heart, dumbass.” He muttered to himself.
As his figure shrank and shrank till there was nothing left, Y/n let out a sigh for herself. Her head remained held up high as she watched the tall blond run away like a coward probably on steroids; she had a list of insults brewing and ready to spit out if necessary. Yet there was a heavy weight on her chest—as if there were dark murky hands wrapping around her heart and squeezing. Could it be? Could this be… guilt?
“Hah! A L/n feels no regrets!” Y/n’s chin pointed to the sky in defiance, “What is said has already been said. Only the pussiest of all pussies would take their words back!”
Y/n huffed in pride, turning the other way to venture the streets without him. So what if she was alone now? That no longer mattered. He couldn’t even appreciate that she was talking to him of all people. Was he so mentally unwell that he didn’t understand how grateful he should be that she was offering to spend time with him? It had only been a day but opinions had already been formed and thoughts had already been perceived.
As natural as birds flying in the sky, it was just as natural for Y/n to completely butcher her true thoughts and turn them into some vile curse instead. Lost in translation, as they say; or perhaps lost in miscommunication, which at this point it’s not even miscommunication anymore. It’s just really shit skills in talking.
What would her Father have to say to her about this?
Shaking the sudden tension off her head, Y/n’s pace hurried as if the stalls were calling to her. Not that there was anything interesting around here for her to donate her appearance and time to. At times like this, a cup of peach ice tea would make everything better. Heck, maybe even throw in a caramel slice or two.
There was a taste of red copper on her tongue as Y/n only processed that she had been biting her lips raw. She was craving something sweet. It was a relief that there was a sour candy waiting to be devoured in her pocket. Y/n didn’t know what she would have done if she couldn’t taste the sugary taste of the hardened treat. Like crystals, the green shell glistened in the light of the sky like a lustrous emerald. Peeling its protective layer of wrapping was a constant reminder of her self-worth as a L/n. A delicious memoir that told the world that the value of the citizens around her were infinitesimal compared to hers. It reassured her that she still had access to something of those that cannot obtain for it was simply impossible.
Nobody can defy a L/n from their cravings.
“Whoops! Sorry, Miss!” A man’s voice rumbled too closely to her ear.
Before the lollipop could reach her lips, time had decelerated almost so much that it was mocking her authority. E/c eyes widened in horror, following the glistening green fall to the ground in slow motion. Its emerald goodness tainted in the dirt of the filthy commoners that walked these grounds. And like rubbing salt into an opened wound, the same stranger had barged into her so roughly that she fell onto her butt, hands buried in the dirt and staining her slender fingers with muck.
“You cunt! Watch where the fuck you’re—” Y/n snapped her head back to search for the stranger only to find abscence in the air, “—going…?”
She gulped thickly, the gaze of the hundred of people around her looking down at her akin to thousands of needles across her arms and legs. A cold shudder ran down her spine as she scanned the crowd from the ground. They’re looking down on me! Me! Her cheeks burned with fury and she immediately shot up from the ground faster than zombies waking up on the last day of the tenth month.
Her mouth parted with a vomit of toxic words ready to spew out until she halted abruptly. Left pocket. Behind her thighs. Empty! She could feel her heart dropping the moment she searched herself, hands frantically patting around her torso to search for it. Y/n had on purposely hid it there just moments before the little spattle with that dumb blond and all of a sudden the universe wants to fuck around and tell her that it’s gone. Nothing. Nada. That thief didn’t even bother breaking off a little piece of her precious item which only pissed her off more; as if its entire existence had been wiped off from the edge of the world.
“Sneaky little RAT!” She growled, top teeth digging into her bottom lips deeply until the taste of blood became more prominent.
The eyes of a blood-lustful predator searches the crowd for unusual behaviour. All she could see were confused and worried patrons who looked at her as if she were a rampant animal. They weren’t entirely wrong however. Print a photo of a snow leopard and Y/n’s face—what’s the difference if both were identical from their claws to their teeth to the uttermost beauty of their fierceness.
Then, she spots the odd one out: a man who had his back turned and was running deeper into the pool of the crowd.
“You there! Bald spot asshole! Give my fucking things back! That’s an order!!” Her voice, a piercing yowl that made the back of her throat tremble and vibrated in her chest.
There was no time to spare; the thief was shrinking from her view too quickly! But not quick enough. Nobody can defy a L/n from their cravings. And right now, Y/n was craving the head of that balding man in her small delicate hands.
Her legs bent down, and with a lunge, she sprinted through the ocean of people swiftly. There were many advantages to being a short person. Y/n’s favourite one? Being perceived as an elegant flower, too small to cause damage. It was unsurprisingly way too easy to surprise people with her agility and strength. She anticipated the moment when that man would be brimming with tears, snot running down his face while begging for forgiveness. Not that I’d give him any—haha!
The distance between Y/n and the thief had narrowed and she had managed to shove people out of her way without a care, jumping over carts and crates like this city was her personal obstacle course. When he went left, she went left. When he went right, she went right. When he entered an alleyway, she cornered him like a cat to a mouse.
“I’ve got you now!” She skidded across the concrete and stopped herself near the man who had backed up against the wall. His arms were raised above his head, one palm closed with a glass amethyst brooch in his hand. The purple iris; the embodiment of royalty—a perfect depiction of the L/n’s ranking. “You fuckin’ knockoff Humpty Dumpty lookin’ wannabe donkey face! You better give me my brooch back or else I’ll kick you in the nuts so damn hard your ancestors’ ancestors will regret ever procreating to make an uggo like you!”
Except the thin lips on the balding man stretched into a wicked smile. Y/n tensed up and was about to turn her back when she felt something—or someone—creeping in on her from behind. One. No, two. How many people were there? Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears that she almost missed the taunt coming from the thief in front of her.
“Hah… You talk a lot for a little brat half my size.”
Suddenly, Y/n felt a sharp pang behind her head as all her hair had been grasped, roughly yanked back so violently that she fell to the floor once again. Her head spun and she felt the crown of her head yanked back to look up at the four men looming over her, cruel and haunting smiles on their wretched faces. She winced, a rough hand grabbing her from the scalp and squeezing her in place.
“Hahaha, look at the dumb bitch. All that talk for nothin’. She thinks that just ‘cause she’s a girl, we’re gonna take it easy on her.” The man with a golden tooth sneered, crouching down to her height. His breath uncomfortably hot on the shell of her ears reeked of tobacco, a familiar scent that she loathed.
“Too bad, little girl. We’re gonna fuck you up real hard because you’re a girl.”
And without warning, the reality that she had been cornered by humans twice her size with nowhere to go hit her almost so hurtfully that it gave her vertigo just from looking up at them. It was a splash of cold water that woke her up to remind her that she was outnumbered and also outsourced.
A bleeding fish in a pool of starving sharks.
The hunger in Enjin’s stomach had only seemed to grow prominently more the further he stormed away from Y/n. Gripping Umbreaker tightly in his left hand now, he scanned the bandaged handle that had absorbed the sweat gathered in his calloused palms. No matter how irritated he was, Enjin couldn’t seem to get that girl out of his mind, and that only pissed him the hell more.
It was such a pain in the ass that she was so fucking cute, too!
“What a waste of a pretty face.” He grumbled, looking back in front of him without much thought.
No thought in his head when a certain h/c hair gremlin plagued his mind like a virus waiting to kill him over and over again. He hoped that she’d quit and he could return to his peaceful life of hooking up with random hot chicks at the bar. Enjin was all for pretty faces and falling into temptation, but he absolutely couldn’t stand people who think they’re so high and mighty because of that. So knowing that his first encounter with Y/n became so horribly wrong only ruined his mood by a hundred times more.
Stop thinking with your dick, idiot. You need to lock the hell in! Enjin slapped his dimpled cheeks to snap out of his thoughts, but it was futile. Completely pointless because seeing a glimpse of h/c hair from a stranger that shared the same hair colour brought his attention immediately back to Y/n unfortunately once more.
When I say that he’s pissed off, oh, he’s pissed. There were tons of people he knew closely that had to work so hard just to get to where they are—him including. Supporters like his friend Gris and Follo barely received any recognition, yet they were important cogs in the machine that helped run the process of wiping out trash go smoothly. It was people like them that deserve more privilege! More chances! More everything that Y/n definitely didn’t because she couldn’t appreciate a single effort given.
Enjin was really fucking pissed. Her Daddy sure loved to use his powers just to make things easier only on their side. It made work for him and the people on his side more difficult. While he liked to skip out on his chores and avoid responsibilities as if they were an active repellant, he still had empathy. Something that that Issen jerk was lacking. His daughter, too. Issen most definitely taught her to be like that so Enjin naturally shifted most of the blame to that man. Afterall, none of this would’ve happened if he didn’t threaten Enjin with his money.
Even if Enjin was already well-off, the company could still use the extra funding. The newer Cleaners and the Supporters in particular needed more attention because there were so many of them. It was a growing community—a family that Enjin had searched for after losing his own.
So threatening the Enjin of Team Akuta?
That’s a real low blow.
It was a huge shame that Enjin was finally using his brain for once, knowing that he was still in charge of Y/n. If anything happens to her or if she happens to do something completely out of hand which he highly doubted, all blame would automatically shift under his name. An unfair system fitting for a girl of her name. Feeling guilty for doing something out of your own wellbeing was completely stupid, he told himself that. But there was a different guilt that plagued his thoughts which was defying Corvus, the one man he trusted with his life. Both ideas were forms of his guilt that grew exponentially, yet the pride in his chest was just as big. It was for his own sake, damn it! Can’t a man prioritise his own mental health? She was being super mean to him… his poor heart is at stake!
“Hah, so what if she gets into trouble? That’s so not my problem. Somebody will teach her a lesson with that dumb cocky attitude of hers.” He huffed loudly with his face scrunching up into a scowl.
So why did the Enjin find himself making a full U-turn and retrace his steps to where he’d last seen Y/n?
a/n: others may say their love language is making out aggressively but my love language is money. flirt to me in dollar signs, baby. kaching kachow or whatever lightning mcqueen says. takoyaki was very bussin btw.
taglist: OPEN. let me know through whatever is convenient for you, my loves.
˚˖° ୭🎐˚｡ ꒷ to my dearest, @bucciaratizippers @thefabulousketurah
Content Warning: This page of "Dream Lantern" contains triggering and sensitive topics. Themes such as self-harm, suicide and self-loathing will appear.
note: nothing wrong with choosing to not read this "chapter". it isn't compulsory, but it definitely helps with understanding how y/n thinks as mentioned prior to chapter four's notes. no tags only because diaries aren't meant to be read by strangers after all. only my dearest and beloved readers have my blessing to be here.
THE CONSTANT CHATTER FADED hum in the midnight air as Y/n walked towards her bedroom. Despite telling Riyo and the other Cleaners and Supporters that she would return to her room to sleep, it was untrue that the girl would keep to her word. Y/n could never get accustomed to being surrounded by so many people again. Her heart—illogical, yet reasonable—pleaded her to run away into the night where no one will find her again. A symbolic imagery that illustrated her instability to persist through the act of living itself. Perhaps if she had the tiniest grain of courage, she could finally commit to the action of leaving quietly when no one notices.
Alas, courage is a strength that Y/n could never achieve. The light of today had faded into a sombre scheme of midnight ebony and exhaustion. Nights were always moments where Y/n could finally breathe and let down her hair. With the weight of unspoken words afflicting her chest, she would use this fraction of her infinitisimal time to write all the things she had yearned to say.
Her footsteps were quiet as she stopped by a window with a sill large enough for her to sit. Closing her eyes to recollect the events of her day, Y/n scribbled something in her journal, Keiten. Her free palm opened as a green marble no bigger than her pinky was summoned out of thin air; its shell a thick and tough exo-skeleton of sugary sweetness and its centre a toxically sour goo. Much akin to how Y/n views through the reflection of the glass panel—a phony excuse of a human with an acidic personality much befitting to a degenerate. It was only a piece of candy she grew up with, yet Y/n saw so much more than just candy. It was an impression of herself.
And thus, Y/n's first day back at work has come to an end.
[BELOW IS A TRANSCRIBED VERSION]
Entry 001: Bright, cloudy, hot.
New beginnings and homesickness (for a place I never belonged to)
Ended up coming back to the Cleaners after disappearing on them for so long. Maybe I shouldn't have. Telling them I was feeling shitty (still am) would be a crap excuse so it's best to not say anything at all. The guilt of my disappearance made me throw up my food. I don't deserve to eat from the hand that I refused to accept help from on so many different occasions. Sparred for the first time in ages and wished Zanka's staff just accidentally on purposely pierced through my head. I dunno. Not much but I'm beyond exhausted even though I can't sleep. This sour candy tastes kinda shit. But it's enough to keep me awake. Beggars can't be choosers.
Today's archive of thoughts:
He was right after all. I've grown so weak to the point that there's no saving me anymore. Maybe I truly am a pathetic loser—a coward who hides behind silence and stillness that others would mistake as nonchalance and stoicism. I'm far from that. I'm a fucking sorry excuse of a phony who just doesn't know how to talk to others without lying. Without performing for them because I know how much my words can affect others without even trying to do anything.
I lied to Eisha today. For such a young girl, I pity her for working at such an age. I may have been no different, but she's seen a lot of things. It's dangerous for both me and her. Whatever part of innocence she has left, I hope she's not clever enough to know that I lied. But I'm not entirely lying, so there's probably some truth in my words as I say this. I just worry that someone will read this and finally realise how utterly disgusting I am. How my words don't match my appearance. But what good of it comes to associating random words with people?
She must've wondered (or rather, I hope she had wondered) about what type of trash beast had attacked me. I'll confess what exact breed it was, and no, it didn't have an oven for a head or a spine made of rusted poles. This trash beast has h/c and e/c eyes, and she works as a part-time Cleaner. Full-time now, actually. The trash beast is also a pathetic loser who can't fight and hides behind the lies that it was actually a real monster that has attacked her because she's too much of a fucking pussy to admit that she cut herself.
If you think about it, there's really not much difference between myself and a trash beast actually. Filth that has been brought to life, garbage with too many memories that create numerous bad energy and emotions... We're quite literally the same. I deserve to be cleaned as well. Would Enjin want to exterminate me? He hates trash beasts as much as I do. I absolutely hate trash beasts. I'll say that again. I absolutely fucking hate trash beasts. We're two disgusting creatures that are the same. But I lied again, and I'll probably lie again because there's nothing I can do apart from faking my words just to match my actions. It's not the trash beasts I hate. It's myself. I truly am a pathetic loser as that boy had said.
By the time Y/n had finished writing, an umpteenth yawn left her dry lips as she rubbed her eyes. The dark sky had already begun to melt away into the beginning of a new day. Tucking her journal and fountain pen back into her pockets, Y/n hopped off the windowsill and retreated to her room where she could shut her mind off. Just until it was time to clock in again.
The desire to search for something would be a small reason good enough to keep her alive for another day. Selfishness and fear eats her insomnia like a three course meal, but it was enough to give her reassurance that she was brave enough to keep living. Just until she can find her inspiration to pick up her pen again, Y/n would thoughtlessly continue to breathe until she can search for other reasons to help her become greedy enough to keep living again. So for now, she would just survive even if her mind pleads with her to accept permanent slumber and nihility.
a/n: let's be good to ourselves today and tomorrow, too. okay? :)
summary: loser reader experiences a god complex revelation type shit haha. she's seeing hallucinations as well but that's normal if you stupidly avoid sleep like it's a disease. follo (OH MY GOD FOLLO MY DEAREST BELOVED UGHH I NEED HIM) also makes his appearance but he's a lil angsty abt it. cope w/ it lil bro. please read previous chapter here! (wc: 6391)
note: spoiler of next chapter is located in the a/n once this chapter concludes.
THE MEDIC ROOM WAS FAIRLY UNASSUMING with patchy ivory walls and important items and tools Y/n unable to identify. There were numerous beds that were all in uniform and symmetrical to one another, both left and right completely occupied with empty cribs. At the farthest left, there laid an inhabited bed beside the large windows where a woman with frizzy h/c hair sat. She bunched up her burgundy skirt while swinging her legs slowly in the air, revealing a pair of ample toned thighs and long novelty socks with frowning cartoon cats.
Y/n sat with one hand holding her skirt and the other being held by Eisha, the lovely nurse who spoke mostly through actions rather than her shy and meek words. Her mind was fairly blank as she detached her emotions from being seen by someone other than herself only; because if she had paid any attention to the situation right now, Y/n would have nothing but her shame and embarrassment to drown herself in. Her hand was squeezed as Eisha did her best trying to heal the last of Y/n’s wounds, but they wouldn’t disappear.
“I’m really sorry, Y/n.” Eisha creased her brows, “For some reason, my powers won’t get rid of these scars. It’s not that they don’t want to but they just can’t.”
E/c eyes drifted from the young blond girl to her left thigh, examining the damaged tissues on her skin. Large scars caused from lacerations—five of them—jagged, thick, and bumpy from the mutilation created on her skin. Horizontal and stretched from one side to the other, varying in sizes yet still littered across her skin like a barcode of mismatched and unorganized codes that only evil monsters and trash beasts could ever make.
Y/n then averted her gaze back to the frowning girl who had her fists clenched tightly. Her head was lowered and the large hat she wore eclipsed the hurtful and disappointed expression she adorned.
“I’ve tried everything and I’m really sorry. I’m hopeless and I can’t heal you. The scars won’t go away. Maybe I’m not fit to be a nurse after all… Granny always scolds me to make sure that I do my best… Maybe I was never good at all.” She ranted quietly to herself, eyes glistening with tears that threatened to spill out.
It was until she felt a hand on her shoulder that Eisha lifted her head, eyes widening and brows furrowing even more as the tears began to slide down her soft cheeks. Her gloves quickly wiped the tears away even if they kept falling. Her already fragile self-esteem wavered even more but the smile that appeared on Y/n’s face seemed to reassure her even through her continued silence. It was nerve wracking to perform in front of a tranquil audience after all.
Alas, there was no smile. It was a rather poorly done effort of stretching her lips from side-to-side to imitate one, even going as far as to showing her teeth to display friendliness and openness. There was no joy in Y/n’s e/c eyes; not a spark of sadness or frustration from Eisha’s incapabilities apart from an indifference that left her feeling emotionally numb and disdain. Yet it was a smile in Eisha’s perspective and that’s all that really mattered to her because she wasn’t being reprimanded for something unusually out of her control.
“It’s alright.” Y/n murmured quietly, a hand drifting to Eisha’s head to give a gentle rub. “It’s not like anyone will see them anyway.”
Eisha returned the smile with a timid one of her own, “It looks like it’s been there for over a long while at least… A year? I knew that fighting trash beasts was deadly, but I didn’t know that it would be this dangerous. I’ve never come across injuries I couldn’t ever heal. What type of beast were you fighting that caused so many lacerations?”
Y/n went quiet again as she reflected about her past. The revolution which kept her mind awake even at the darkest nights. The lines between nightmares and reality were awfully slim, and sometimes they’d blur together so well that the bad dreams were in fact the truth. She shook her head and stood up, putting her pyjama pants back on and letting her skirt fall back down to her ankles.
“Just something from my hometown. It’s been reported so don’t worry about it. I’m not too pressed about it.” Y/n reassured, her words only appearing more omniscient with the firm and nonchalant tone she harboured. It is what it is.
Once Eisha had finished applying the last final touches to her patient, she began to put her tools and medic kit away. Soon after, Y/n joined in to make herself more useful. The two tidied the room in shared peace—a comfortable peace if you chose to ignore the furrow in Y/n’s brows and her distant gaze as she stared out the window. Having noticed the tired look in her eyes, Eisha scurried off silently to retrieve a helpful remedy for Y/n’s exhaustion.
Despite being aware of the woman’s poor relationship with sleep, the lovely nurse knew that there were other reactions that came with a fresh cup of coffee. There were many side effects that came along with consuming it, or even the scent of it. Eisha was all too familiar with the smell of coffee having been around plenty of adults who like to drink it themselves. Depending on who you are, drinking coffee could improve your performance and cognitive abilities. Otherwise, if you were special enough, the caffeine would send you into a coma rather than energizing you.
But it wasn’t just the effects that the nurse really thought about. Eisha knew how much Y/n took comfort in just the scent itself—which was in fact another effect she presumed. Whatever the reason, the nurse was determined to make her patients happy!
The scent of caffeine slowly filled the medic room as Eisha walked back inside. Y/n had finished folding the blankets and lifted her head, watching the blonde make her way towards her with the cup in gloved hands.
“I got you coffee. You seemed a little stressed so I thought this could help…” Eisha hesitantly held the cup out to the older girl, eyes bashfully averting. “I remember you telling me that the smell helps calm you down.”
Y/n retrieved the cup with a small smile, her eyes warming just the slightest as she took a whiff of the warm earthy aroma.
“Thanks. Much appreciated.”
“A-Anyway…! I have to pick up some more bandages with my big brother so if you don’t mind, please excuse me.”
E/c eyes followed the small nurse scurrying out of the medic bay, watching her figure disappear behind the walls. Y/n let out a sigh or relief. Alone at last. Her feet were silent against the floor as she stood by the window, bringing the cup to her lips. The mere scent alone made the numerous storms in her head calm down. Its warmth made her eyelids feel heavy as her lips pressed against the edge. The sudden pang of the milky heat felt like a sharp pin prickling at her tongue; its earthy and dirt-like flavour burning down her throat. It wasn’t sweet, but it wasn’t pure black either. Y/n would have to pull a week of all nighters to be crazy enough to drink something as foul as that. Might as well just drink roasted beans and water and call it a day.
Her eyelids felt heavier despite tasting the coffee on her lips, staring at the outdoor training grounds in which she and Zanka had must’ve sparred. There was no surprise that the field was left empty besides the evidence that she and the boy had sparred from the cracked dirt on the ground. Y/n didn’t realise that the medic bay had such a clear view of the entire area—it was perfect for stalking. Or what she believed, people-watching. She would hate to be the victim of being watched, but it was the idea of wondering what people did with their own lives when she didn’t know what to do with her own.
She felt like a God.
They say that the people of the Ground don’t know what a God is. The concept itself is as foreign as the knowledge of what they have between the Ground and the Sphere, or rather the Sphere in its own volition. Humans had no one but to blame but their own selves for man-made damnation, and it would be selfish and arrogant to condemn catastrophes over an outer-celestial alien who was too “perfect” to be of this realm. Years ago, before the first choker was even created, there’d be books about so-called “Gods”. Yet somewhere along the way, the meaning of what God is has shifted into the trash storms that occur every six years. Until all that was left was a land of people that were collectively forsaken especially with history as evidence thrown away like trash.
You’d be delusional enough to pray for trash. A blessing that could only grace you with even more demise. If there really was a God that these Groundlings had to worship, they’re quite literally only praying to the waste belonging to the Sphererites, no? It was comprehensible, however, to understand why there were communities who would go down on their knees for worship. Even as stakes pierced through their chests or forsaken ovens crushing their skulls, prayer is still prayer.
People pray especially when they’re desperate. It is one of the main factors that create the idea of prayer. To seek help and guidance. So that us humans on the Ground can understand why the fuck our home is being tarnished so horribly that we must suffer the consequences not of our own, but the people above.
Y/n’s thigh itched, subconsciously digging her nails onto the bumpy lines to soothe it as she watched the bright cloudy sky fade quickly into an obsidian canvas of night. The ability of coffee was powerful: slowing her brain down into a hazy maze, yet pumping her heart concerningly fast to keep her awake. The buildings were morphing into one another and the ground seemed to melt into itself. The clouds had cleared up and in the sky, the stars began to descend. Falling down endlessly like wishes that failed to come true, leaving nothing but ashened regret and smoke that filled the already dirty air.
Her hands trembled as the pace of her breathing had accelerated. What the hell was going on? This wasn’t supposed to happen. A huge sense of deja vu crashed down upon Y/n as she scratched at the scars through her skirt more aggressively in panic, watching the stars go out in sharp bursts like fireworks. The stars had seemed to align together; a constellation of calamity and doomsday in the shape of a beast with a bony frill extended from the back of its skull, two long horns that penetrated through the air, and another smaller horn extended from its snout. Her ears rang as the screams of distress and crying pierced through the air. Multiple of them, distorted and messy, calling her name in muffled yet clear voices. Voices she recognised. Voices she failed to bury down. Voices that will continue to haunt her waking days.
“Y/n!” A loud voice boomed, snapping her out of her daze as she looked behind her.
At the door, Zanka was holding onto the wall with his Lovely Assistaff by his side. His hair was quite a ruffle, cheeks flushed as he panted and gripped his knee for stability. Piercing blue eyes narrowing at her, widening in shock as he stared at the woman with a flurry of emotions that made his head spin.
Y/n didn’t realise she had jumped out of surprise and fear if it weren’t for the sudden burn on her thighs that was already spreading all over her skirt, cup hitting against the ground with an interruptive shatter.
“What the…?! Be careful, you air-head!” Zanka scolds, running over to her to help her move away from the spilt hot hazard.
The h/c-ette looked back out the window, brows furrowing the slightest as she stared at the bright cloudy view outside. It was still afternoon and there was no evidence of the shooting stars or the screaming people. Not this again… These hallucinations seemed to follow her around every time she micro-slept. It was better to just sleep properly instead of those small respiratory moments of “rest”, but Y/n could never let herself succumb to such vulnerability of her mind unless the delusions got too powerful. Her head throbbed as she tasted the bitter aftermath of the coffee on the back of her tongue, face scrunching up at the foul and tangy flavour.
Zanka joined her on the floor, carefully sweeping up the shattered porcelain as she wiped up the spilled coffee. The two worked together in an uncomfortable silence and loud thoughts that were easily read on their faces. Regret, sorry, concern. Zanka especially wore his heart on his sleeve when he helped Y/n, worrying that she would absolutely despise his guts after the cruel things he had said to her before. Yet there was something different about her that Zanka had noticed; it was the distant look in her eyes that made her feel a thousand miles away.
He cleared his throat, grabbing a paper towel himself to join in wiping up the mess thoroughly with her. Navy eyes narrowed down on Y/n’s face as he scrutinized her reaction, awkwardly trying to converse with her, “I, uhh… Enjin heard—I mean, I heard from Enjin that you… write…?”
Silence…
An irritated smile tugged at Zanka’s lips as he received no answer as a response. There’s no surprise to that. After all, he did call her a pathetic weak loser. If he were her, he would’ve cussed the hell at himself and fought back. Y/n could’ve. But she wouldn’t. Potential was what you would do if you were in someone else’s shoes after all.
Slowly, he took a deep breath to steady the storm raging in his chest.
“About what I said earlier…” His uncertain voice trailed off, “I’m really fuckin’ sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.”
He couldn’t help but continue ranting, taking her stilled hands as a green light to carry on.
“It’s just that… You’ve changed so much that I almost didn’t recognise you. The Y/n I grew up around when I first joined the Cleaners was no longer there. No, that’s not it… The person I admired a lot wasn’t the same as I had remembered. Yeah, that’s more like it… I’m not saying that changing is a bad thing but all I’m saying is that I just… Fuck…”
“I missed you, damn it!” He clenched his fists tightly, eyes glistening with a sheen of pent up frustrated tears.
Y/n finally looked up at him, e/c eyes widening in surprise as she saw the sincerity in Zanka’s ocean eyes. A smile tugged at her lips as she patted his head gently like a big sister. Her eyes softened with warmth and joy. A real smile that Zanka hadn’t seen in a long while. Yet he wondered why she smiled as if the world had betrayed her.
“‘m sorry…” He sniffled, wiping his tears with the back of his clenched fists. He didn’t even realise he had shuffled closer to her, leaning into Y/n’s gentle hands. “It’s pretty crappy for me to cry when I said those shitty things to you. This is really freakin’ embarrassing. Crying in front of a girl like a little brat…”
Zanka couldn’t help but smile back at her through the tears. She was still the same Y/n he adored after all. The same Y/n who made his heart flutter in both pain and love while knowing he had so much to give to her yet couldn’t when all she saw was a little brother who had so much to live for.
“Crying doesn’t make you weak. Hiding your feelings away and never acknowledging them does.” She spoke softly, sliding her hand down to his cheek to wipe the last remnants of the tears. Y/n did notice how he leaned into her palm with almost hopeful eyes, carefully retracting her hand immediately. It would be dangerous for her to allow Zanka to have the fate of his life intertwined with hers. She’ll only damage him even more the closer he felt to her and that alone would become punishment for her inability to stay permanently.
“It makes sense that you’d get so upset and frustrated over something like that. I’m not who I was yesterday or the day before, but so are you. Time changes all of us for better or for worse. There’s no helping it so the least we can do is to not let our pasts become the reason for our behaviour and actions today.”
“I know I haven’t been a good role model for you—disappearing and going MIA outta nowhere—but it looks like you didn’t need me after all.” Y/n let out a breathless chuckle, “You’re growing so much and you still are today. Don’t let my actions get in the way of your improvements. You’ve been through so much so be happy that there’s been a change. Otherwise, this wouldn’t have happened at all.”
“Wha…? That’s not true. I do need you, you dumbass!” Zanka frowned, “Well, maybe you’re half-right. But you’re half-wrong, too! You’re still the same idiot I know and remember. I don’t let other people get in my way ‘cause I’m a selfish guy who does things for his own selfish reasons. Sure, maybe I trained extra hard when I heard you were quitting, but that was because I wanted to show you that I could become stronger and protect you one day if we ever get to work on a mission together! I’m still waiting for it to happen, just so you know.”
“You’re a clever boy, Zanka.” Y/n smiled, standing up to put the rubbish away. “I’m proud of you for coming this far.”
Zanka’s eyes widened as he stared at her retreating figure, cheeks flushing a bright hue of cherry and spread to his ears and down his neck. He forced himself to look away, clearing his throat as he stood up as well. Getting recognition for his efforts only seemed to make his high ego inflate further—even if the so-called “high ego” was merely a facade to protect himself. A mind game to trick himself into believing he was great despite being the epitome of mediocrity among mediocre. The number one average guy.
“Just so you know, you didn’t answer my question before.” Zanka followed her, standing by the door while waiting.
“What question?”
“You know… The writing one.”
Even if they were able to talk to each other, there was a void that Zanka felt in his chest which could be reflected in those e/c eyes. Was she thinking of something else? Possibly. He wondered where she would rather be, or where she could mentally be at this moment if not with him. His eyes drifted down at her stained skirt, brows raising the slightest as he watched her indifferently tug it off as it was soiled.
“Hm, well… Kinda?” Y/n pursed her lips in contemplation, “He’s not wrong about it exactly. Anyway, about training…”
Zanka tensed up, she’s shifting the subject before he could even try to ask her about it!
“Right… So, uh… Training. I lied about what I said, but not really. I’m already mentoring some brat but I gotta wait till Corvus can accept him into the job. I’ll talk to Enjin about it. Sorry again, Y/n.”
Y/n shook her head with a nonchalant shoulder shrug, “It’s fine. I’ll figure it all out eventually. It’s not like I have a choice anyway. Life goes on.”
After saying their goodbyes to each other, Zanka headed to his room to take a mental break—a nap. It was important to not overexert himself when in the past he had no one to fight against beside himself. His experience at the Cleaners had definitely taught him that he should rest as much as he works out. Otherwise, he’d hit rock bottom again and wallow up in a dark well of self-pity and loathing once again.
Yet as he walked with his staff in his hand, he couldn’t help but wonder what she meant exactly by that. “It’s not like I have a choice anyway.” It was too vague. Zanka was no fan of omniscience unless it was in his books. Reading was more exciting that way, but this was reality. He had no time for games and he sure as heck didn’t want to play detective. Yet at the same time, Zanka knew that she was right even if he tried to ignore his curiosity. Curiosity could kill Schrödinger’s cat if he made the right decision. What exactly was the right decision in the first place? He couldn’t help but dwell on her words no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Curse his overthinking brain. Maybe Y/n was right after all.
Life does in fact go on no matter how many times you fail. Even if he’s experienced the abysmal feeling of ultimate rock-bottom, he knows that people still continue to live around you. Thinking back to it, would there even be anyone who’d care if he died that day? What if Enjin had never found him at the time? Would he even be the Zanka Nijiku he was today? Or would he die from starvation and his own ludicrous, being found a second too late with a rotting body that reeked of shit?
Zanka shook the heavy feelings away, rubbing his throat to soothe himself. “Nah, I shouldn’t think like that. The least I could do is to be a better teammate for Y/n and do the same thing Enjin did for me. Even if she doesn’t want it.”
That’s when he felt it. The dried metallic of red on his fingers. Taking a sharp U-turn, he made his way back to the nurse’s room having remembered why else he was there in the first place: to heal the almost fatal wound that could’ve killed him if she didn’t hesitate at that moment. He’d have to delay taking his usual break for now and see to this wound first.
“What a hassle…” He sighed harshly.
When Y/n had finished washing her skirt, her stomach had rumbled as an outcome of her long and eventful day. No matter where she looked, the woman couldn’t find a suitable place to hang her uniform skirt. It was completely damp now after scrunching the water out of the fabric. Her room wouldn’t be suitable because it would only turn the skirt into a breeding farm for mold.
Hunger makes you do all sorts of things. But not exactly for Y/n. Even as she was starving for food, she managed to put the remainder of her energy into hiding behind walls and corners and even doors that slammed into her face. After all that talking with Zanka, her social battery had seemed to drop even lower. The only remedy to help her out at this moment would be the spicy taste of curry and whatever protein that was available. It’s been too long since she had curry. Spending months savouring bread, anything was tasty at this point. No, scratch that—anything is edible to her so long as she can stomach it down without the guilt that made her throw up.
It was getting late now and the sky had darkened as Y/n walked out in the open hallways. The headquarters was fairly quiet tonight. Not that she was surprised; she had expected it from this hour since dinner would’ve probably ended a while ago. Y/n never liked eating at the same time as everyone else. Being in the same room as others made it difficult for her to focus on her food. It reminded her that she was human after all like them and not some sort of celestial being that could feed off prayers and words of praise as a source of nourishment. It also reminded her that people here on the Ground really couldn’t care less about table manners as well. The sound of chewing made her uncomfortable in a way that made her shudder with disgust even if it was a normal human sound.
However, there was a faint buzz in the air. The sound of multiple voices chattering over each other that bled into her ears, halting her footsteps at the doorway that led to the mess hall behind it. Y/n scanned the glow coming from underneath the gap of the door, her breath slowing down to focus on blending in with the shadows. The door parted just the slightest as she made it her mission to see what the ruckus was about.
Ten people… No, double it. No, triple it! There were multiple people all around sitting and standing, mugs of various sorts of beverages in their hands or food being passed around on the table. Some still in their uniform while others in casual clothing. Her eyes zeroed in on the massive platter on the tables that were only ever made for special events. At this point, she was so hungry that she could hear her stomach grumbling to her in morse code. “..-. . . -.. / -- . .-.-.-” But seeing so many people all at once with faces she barely even recognised? Yeah, no, let’s just starve.
Y/n immediately turned away to retreat to her room, barely taking more than two steps until she was engulfed by light and loud chatter with a creak of the door opening.
“Ehh?! Look who came to join the party!” A loud exclamation called out, Y/n recognising the slight rasp and casual sweet tone that could only belong to a certain red-head.
Then, a tug on the hem of her jacket that made her stumble backwards.
“Man, it’s been too long!” Riyo jumped onto her back, arms wrapping around Y/n’s chest and face burying in the crook of her neck. “I missed you tons, Y/n-neesan! How’ve you been? You never called back! Oh well, it’s fine. We’ve gotta catch up for old times’ sake, though! C’mon!”
Riyo wrapped her thin hands around Y/n’s wrist, pulling her eagerly into the mess hall. The woman was greeted with thousands of eyes that stared right at her. Or rather, that’s how she saw them right now, feeling completely naked without her skirt. Y/n had to unfocus her eyes to avoid eye contact with anyone, faces blurring just the slightest as her heartbeat picked up. It was probably the coffee from before most likely. Faces old and new. Faces that didn’t recognise her for a few seconds until a roar of cheers abrupted, more beer being passed around.
“Look who came back!”
“Huh? Who’s that girl? Why’s she in her jammies?”
“Meh, that’s just Y/n. Anything she wears becomes her uniform with that girl. Somebody get her a drink!”
Y/n tensed up, slipping away from Riyo’s grasp to stand behind the shorter girl. Short? Not short anymore. She’s grown a little, even if she was wearing platform boots that made her a few inches taller.
“What’s the occasion?” She whispered faintly so only Riyo could hear.
“Huh?! The occasion?!” Riyo raised her voice, unable to hear her own words with the noise. “It’s a welcome party for a Spherite joining the Ground. Come sit with us. I’ll get you all the food you want ‘cause I know you’re too shy for that.”
The Spherite. It was the hook, line, and sinker for Y/n to be curious enough to stay here. With all the chatter, she had almost forgotten why she was here: to find the spark of flame she had abandoned long ago. Whoever the Spherite would be, Y/n felt her heart thump quickly with interest to know if the guest was truly special or rather a fraud instead. But it would be too soon for her to ask about the foreigner. It was taboo to even talk fondly about those breeds of humans (if they even are in the first place) after all they had done. It hasn’t even been a day so she willed herself to give it some time before she could search for the foreigner just to erase suspicion.
Y/n bit her lower lip, brows furrowing as she followed quietly behind the younger girl. It was humiliating and embarrassing to behave in such a timid way around someone six years younger than you. It should’ve been the other way around. Yet she couldn’t help it. If this were a sci-fi narrative, Y/n would’ve been an alien invading the Cleaner’s exuberant planet. Or perhaps even a cockroach scurrying for scraps of food, intruding the mess hall because of her hunger that made her feel sick out of the guilt building up inside her. All she wanted was some curry but maybe bread and salt would suffice—a sumptuous dinner that rats would scurry to in the sewers as she would, too. She had no intention to stay here. There were way too many people in one room and all she wanted to do was to hide in the corner and melt into the walls.
Until a heavy arm swung around her shoulders and her head was messily ruffled. Y/n tensed up quickly once more, realising that Riyo was no longer with her and had disappeared in the sea of people. Her eyes darted up: long messy white hair, a goatee, and a pair of azure eyes looking right back at her with one scar going across his left eye.
“Well if it isn’t Y/n! Getting all the attention like a famous celebrity.” He grinned with his teeth, “How long has it been? A year? I’m really glad to see you again.”
Y/n felt her cheeks flush brightly at the man, lips parting to say something—anything—but all that left her was a silent gasp of surprise and awe. Gris Rubion. The man who had a big heart that could ease anyone out of the dark, especially like her. Her chest started to pound and her ears began to redden, the close proximity making her awfully aware of her breathing.
“Is it just me or do you look kinda like a zombie? Damn, you should really get some sleep tonight. How about turning in early for the night, yeah?”
“Good question.” Y/n muttered sarcastically.
A few seats away from the h/c-ette, a tall and slim young man with dark ashy hair sat quietly. He had his back turned towards the crowd at the entrance of the hall, golden eyes downcasted as he played along with the meaningless jokes that his coworkers made. A smile which didn’t exactly reach his eyes, yet he did his best to adapt to the cheerfulness amongst his table to not dampen the mood. The man was glad to be here, of course. In fact, he was saved by a newbie and that’s what made him relieved to be alive. Relieved and in debt. As a supporter, he wasn’t as flashy or special to be remembered.
A background character at most.
He finished the last gulp of his drink and stared at the foreign short kid at a table by himself, clenching the mug tightly with a feeling he was all too familiar with. If jealousy was a monster with aventurine eyes, the man must’ve been the splitting image for his envy was seeping through his pores. It was named a deadly sin for the potential humans could do with such intense feelings. That’s why it followed after its parents of greed and pride like a descendant to succeed in creating illusions familiarly known as “justice”. If he had a vital instrument himself, he could’ve saved himself and the team then be called a hero. Maybe this party would be celebrated for himself for once!
“Hey, Follo! You should take a look at that chick over there. She’s definitely your type, right?” His friend slapped a hand on his back, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Huh? What’re you talking—” Follo turned his head.
That’s when he felt it. That familiar rush that made his heart almost leap out of his throat from beating so fast he might get a heart attack. He wasn’t that much of a lightweight, so why was his cheeks warming up so quickly? Golden eyes suddenly lock with e/c eyes, his lips parting with words he’s been longing to say: I missed you.
“Didja say somethin’? Woah, where are you going?!”
Follo stood up with his mug in his hand, eyes averted to the half-eaten food left on his plate. “Just refilling my drink. I’ll be quick! And don’t eat my food!”
It was hopeless to hide the giddy smile that was plastered onto his youthful face. Like seeing your school crush in the halls on your way to class or finding loose change in the pocket of forgotten clothes, he was beaming with excitement and joy.
He looked back at Y/n with a shy smile, watching her shrink back after being surrounded by so many other Cleaners and Supporters. She returned the smile with an awkward one of herself, and he could almost see the look in her face pleading for help to escape this situation. A breathless chuckle left his lips, smile growing warmly as he shook his head in amusement.
Right now, this moment felt like it belonged to just the two of them. Both Follo and Y/n. No words were shared no matter how much his heart pleaded him to go up to her. This was enough for him. Even if he had so many questions that could fill up libraries, he’ll save them for another time when he can finally be alone with her. No matter how rare it is to find her, he’d do his best to be patient and wait. Follo was incredibly good at reading emotions and he knew that Y/n wasn’t easy to talk to unless you were important.
But was he important to her just as she was to him?
He was merely just a Supporter after all. There was nothing special about him apart from being able to blend in with the other Supporters like background characters. It wasn’t called the Cleaners and Supporters for a reason. The main focus were people that were gifted to wield blessings to defeat scum, and Follo was merely just a random nobody who didn’t have what it takes to be special. You can’t beat what you were born with, so he’d have to live as a blank for as long as he’ll be remembered.
Not that anyone could remember a nobody’s face anyway. Would Y/n even recognise him?
Parties were always good for him to remember how easy it was to blend in with the crowd. Y/n was just like him—fading into the background and being left unseen. Yet the difference between a woman that has been blessed with beauty and kindness like hers and an envious piece of trash like him is that she doesn’t want the spotlight while he did. But even then, he still couldn’t help but levitate to her. He couldn’t feel seen unless he was with her and that created a dependency—a need to follow her as she quietly removed herself from the crowd of people and fled outside the door.
“Now’s my chance to—”
Until he sees a flash of blond hair and a tattooed neck following after the girl almost immediately. The captain was accompanied by his notorious vital instrument—something in which Follo lacked himself. That was enough. This was enough. There was no need for words when the world itself had already rejected his love and affection for a relationship that could only exist in the comfort of his own imagination.
They were doomed from the start; he had no choice but to believe it even if his heart beat in rhythms that contradicted his thoughts. Follo had no chance with someone as amazing as Y/n from the start because just like the stars he’s seen in books, they’ll always be light years away from each other. Star-crossed lovers, as he read. He was stupid enough to keep hoping no matter how much his heart throbbed, but what else could he do when he was selfish from the moment he was born? We were all born wanting something, so to him, it felt entirely unfair that even the world forbade him from having a chance with her. If only he was a Giver. If only he was a little cooler or if only he was able to join Team Akuta as a real Cleaner and prove to Y/n that he was worth remembering after all. If only.
“Pshh, yeah right. There’s no way you could ever beat a hotshot like Enjin. You’d do nothing but get in her way.” He scoffed bitterly to himself.
Perhaps tonight didn’t belong to him after all; that the night belonged to the captain and the returning Giver who must’ve had a relationship he could never imagine for himself. But fuck, was he a selfish guy. Follo was a helpless sinner who prayed to his sleep-deprived Goddess that one day she would secretly look his way. The night didn’t belong to him at all, but he wanted to be greedy just for today. He’s given everything and received nothing but trouble at the end. There was nothing that came with being a Supporter, so it would be fine if he was delusional for a little bit and pretended that she came back for him and him only, right?
Was this really okay?
a/n: have you ever read someone's diary without their knowledge? the dark side hidden beneath the layers of skin, flesh, and bone which reside deeply within the soul. a cruel pleasure; in which vulnerability evolves into content—a sickening source of entertainment. you could be under constant surveillance as you read this message. in a brighter light: you are never truly alone no matter how lonely you are. a wish as naive as y/n who yearns for eternal solitude shall remain incomprehensible; thus, an anomaly to her fate. not when she's under constant surveillance—the dear readers, her audience. keep performing for us, y/n. give us a reason to hate you. show us how truly shitty you can be.
taglist: OPEN. let me know through whatever is convenient for you, my loves.
Content Warning: This page of "Dream Lantern" contains triggering and sensitive topics. Themes such as self-harm, suicide and self-loathing will appear.
note: nothing wrong with choosing to not read this "chapter". it isn't compulsory, but it definitely helps with understanding how y/n thinks as mentioned prior to chapter four's notes. only my dearest and beloved readers have my blessing to be here. please read the previous chapter here.
THE CONSTANT CHATTER FADED into a hum in the midnight air as Y/n walked towards her bedroom. Despite telling Riyo and the other Cleaners and Supporters that she would return to her room to sleep, it was untrue that the girl would keep to her word. Y/n could never get accustomed to being surrounded by so many people again. Her heart—illogical, yet reasonable—pleaded her to run away into the night where no one will find her again. A symbolic imagery that illustrated her instability to persist through the act of living itself. Perhaps if she had the tiniest grain of courage, she could finally commit to the action of leaving quietly when no one notices.
Alas, courage is a strength that Y/n could never achieve. The light of today had faded into a sombre scheme of midnight ebony and exhaustion. Nights were always moments where Y/n could finally breathe and let down her hair. With the weight of unspoken words afflicting her chest, she would use this fraction of her infinitisimal time to write all the things she had yearned to say.
Her footsteps were quiet as she stopped by a window with a sill large enough for her to sit. Closing her eyes to recollect the events of her day, Y/n scribbled something in her journal, Keiten. Her free palm opened as a green marble no bigger than her pinky was summoned out of thin air; its shell a thick and tough exo-skeleton of sugary sweetness and its centre a toxically sour goo. Much akin to how Y/n views through the reflection of the glass panel—a phony excuse of a human with an acidic personality much befitting to a degenerate. It was only a piece of candy she grew up with, yet Y/n saw so much more than just candy. It was an impression of herself.
And thus, Y/n's first day back at work has come to an end.
[BELOW IS A TRANSCRIBED VERSION]
Entry 001: Bright, cloudy, hot.
New beginnings and homesickness (for a place I never belonged to)
Ended up coming back to the Cleaners after disappearing on them for so long. Maybe I shouldn't have. Telling them I was feeling shitty (still am) would be a crap excuse so it's best to not say anything at all. The guilt of my disappearance made me throw up my food. I don't deserve to eat from the hand that I refused to accept help from on so many different occasions. Sparred for the first time in ages and wished Zanka's staff just accidentally on purposely pierced through my head. I dunno. Not much but I'm beyond exhausted even though I can't sleep. This sour candy tastes kinda shit. But it's enough to keep me awake. Beggars can't be choosers.
Today's archive of thoughts:
He was right after all. I've grown so weak to the point that there's no saving me anymore. Maybe I truly am a pathetic loser—a coward who hides behind silence and stillness that others would mistake as nonchalance and stoicism. I'm far from that. I'm a fucking sorry excuse of a phony who just doesn't know how to talk to others without lying. Without performing for them because I know how much my words can affect others without even trying to do anything.
I lied to Eisha today. For such a young girl, I pity her for working at such an age. I may have been no different, but she's seen a lot of things. It's dangerous for both me and her. Whatever part of innocence she has left, I hope she's not clever enough to know that I lied. But I'm not entirely lying, so there's probably some truth in my words as I say this. I just worry that someone will read this and finally realise how utterly disgusting I am. How my words don't match my appearance. But what good of it comes to associating random words with people?
She must've wondered (or rather, I hope she had wondered) about what type of trash beast had attacked me. I'll confess what exact breed it was, and no, it didn't have an oven for a head or a spine made of rusted poles. This trash beast has h/c and e/c eyes, and she works as a part-time Cleaner. Full-time now, actually. The trash beast is also a pathetic loser who can't fight and hides behind the lies that it was actually a real monster that has attacked her because she's too much of a fucking pussy to admit that she cut herself.
If you think about it, there's really not much difference between myself and a trash beast actually. Filth that has been brought to life, garbage with too many memories that create numerous bad energy and emotions... We're quite literally the same. I deserve to be cleaned as well. Would Enjin want to exterminate me? He hates trash beasts as much as I do. I absolutely hate trash beasts. I'll say that again. I absolutely fucking hate trash beasts. We're two disgusting creatures that are the same. But I lied again, and I'll probably lie again because there's nothing I can do apart from faking my words just to match my actions. It's not the trash beasts I hate. It's myself. I truly am a pathetic loser as that boy had said.
By the time Y/n had finished writing, an umpteenth yawn left her dry lips as she rubbed her eyes. The dark sky had already begun to melt away into the beginning of a new day. Tucking her journal and fountain pen back into her pockets, Y/n hopped off the windowsill and retreated to her room where she could shut her mind off. Just until it was time to clock in again.
The desire to search for something would be a small reason good enough to keep her alive for another day. Selfishness and fear eats her insomnia like a three course meal, but it was enough to give her reassurance that she was brave enough to keep living. Just until she can find her inspiration to pick up her pen again, Y/n would thoughtlessly continue to breathe until she can search for other reasons to help her become greedy enough to keep living again. So for now, she would just survive even if her mind pleads with her to accept permanent slumber and nihility.
a/n: let's be good to ourselves today and tomorrow, too. okay? :)
summary: NSFW! cringe start bc i was kinda drunk whoopsies. gooner enjin. he's doing it, are you? enjin just wants to get laid ngl. stress gooning and edging (clickbait). bratty y/n is his new roomie hell yeah. (wc: 4368) view all chapters & important info here.
note: banananas taste horrible. first time writing something naughty and i don't like it. "you're not obligated to though" who said that i write for my own comfort?
FROM THE DAY ADAM AND EVE HAD SUNK THEIR TEETH into the ripe fruits of temptations, humans had always lived to be free. They've existed for so long only because of the sheer power of how they use their self-autonomy amidst the chaos of the worldly jungle; in which survival truly is the fittest. Humans label themselves as superior, yet it is untrue for all creatures of the Ground as they are all unique in varying ways. We’re only so superior because we hold the power to become both the key saviour and saboteurs of our own destruction. It is our selfish reasoning that we call ourselves “superior” because of free will and our ability to persecute such whims.
To fall into sin or to follow into traditions of guidance. Only humans have the liberty to conform to high mental capacities in which animals lack. Thievery, reproduction, murder—we’re free to do as much as we please so long as our hearts desire it. However, even true freedom has a predetermined limitation to what extent humans can possibly achieve. If not for laws built on morals and logic, humans could do anything they’d like so long as they put their mind to it. We're first-rate thieves who steal from the land of its origins; self-indulgent creatures that continue to take, take, take until there's nothing left for the future. Perhaps that is why the phrase “Monkey see, monkey do” continues to exist to this day. You learn to mimic how to exist through observation before you can learn why you exist.
Except, living was never meant to be easy in the first place. It is for that reason especially that humans are the incarnate of both angels and devils; there is no such thing as pure evil or pure good. We contradict our own actions with our own emotions, and that is why the heavenly virtues are covalent to the deadly sins. Otherwise, the world would go bankrupt with perfection or flaws without either. It is important to have balance. There is too much goodness in the world to be bad, but there is too much badness in the world to be good. Hence, why humans can never fully grasp what freedom could possibly ever mean.
But what is freedom to you? And what is freedom to me?
To Enjin, freedom was just a fleeting emotion he feels whenever he indulges in his toxic smoking habits or chases after hot women with nice ass or tits to put it bluntly. They were necessary vices to him to make up for all the stress he gained from his job, which wasn’t exactly difficult at all but somewhat challenging regardless. The only problem he had was dealing with people as a major consequence from cleaning trash beasts; some humans think that just because he’s working, they’re entitled to disrespect him and treat him horribly despite the charity he has done for them. It was a huge pain in his ass. But then again, with the large paychecks that turn his golden eyes into dollar symbols, perhaps the stress made the job entirely more worth it.
Outside of his occupation, Enjin was a simple man who had it all (apart from lacking any bitches, that is). With a charming smile that made people fawn over him and a bank account that had more zeroes than his body count, Enjin believed that he was pretty satisfied with where he is right now. That was a lie—he wished he could ignorantly think like that but his mind says contrariwise. But no matter how many times his heart feels empty and all he can do to occupy that uncomfortable void, Enjin believed that if something exciting wasn't going to happen today, it would happen tomorrow. And if not tomorrow, then the day after would be fine as well. While his heart was still beating, that was a sign plenty enough for him to know that there was plenty of life left inside of him regardless of how he felt.
Ever since Rudo, the newest addition to his team, had fled the nest and learnt how to tackle missions on his own, Enjin felt the excitement leave his chest. He’s returned to his monotonous lifestyle of work, drinks, smokes, and repeat. Heck, even jerking off has gotten boring! He sure as hell knew that finding time to have a frivolous night with a pretty thing would be a struggle with his schedule and occupation. As heroic as his job may be, women weren’t that really into men who had a huge parasocial relationship towards an object that couldn’t speak or think nevertheless. It was creepy to have such sentimental value for a thing rather than a person—an excuse he'd hear all the time. Telling anyone that he was a Cleaner had always been the ultimate turn-off for them even if they'd come running to him first.
But what’s so attractive about a man such as him? Ignore the golden waves of hair and dimpled cheeks, and ignore how he smiles as if there was more to life than just the notions of breathing and existing itself. Or how his body is inked up with obsidian and crimson, only complimenting his toned muscles even further and denoting him into nothing more than a “hear-me-out” candidate for a special cake. At this point, Enjin was no longer Enjin. His body was merely but a shell that has evolved into the perception of how everyone sees him at present.
Deep down, no one really understood him for his own past was shrouded in a mystery that he kept hidden away from others. Even to himself. There's too much pain that comes with being trapped in the past and he didn't have the time nor mental capacity for that. Perhaps for the safety of their innocence, or perhaps the safety of his own incapability to fully allow himself to be truly vulnerable. Enjin didn’t like to dwell on the past even if it made his current self dissatisfied with the way he lives today.
Maybe it’s high-time that he gets laid again.
All that thinking was making his head throb. That was the cost of coming home alone after a mission without any teammates. He didn’t have to perform as the “Enjin” that everyone remembers him for so he had no one besides his own self to keep him company amidst the journey of his return. Another successful mission meant that he deserves another smoke! He's been a good boy today!
The cigarette was brought between his lips as he pressed down on the lighter, sheltering the flickering flame as its embers lit up the paper tip. The scent of smoke filled his nose as he indulged in the burnt cinnamon taste of its tobacco, welcoming the slight buzz in his head which slowly relaxed his mind. A wisp of grey clouds melted into the air as he made his way back inside the HQ, greeting the glasses-wearing secretary with a wave.
“I’m back. Got rid of all the beasts like you’ve asked.” His smooth voice came out as a nonchalant rasp as he stopped in front of the desk piled with mountains of paperwork and erotic magazines, “Oh, sweet. The latest issue’s out already?”
Semiu closed her magazine quickly and adjusted the frames on her face, “Yep. You made sure to get rid of all of the beasts, right?”
“You should’ve specified that from the beginning. One guy can only do so much by himself.”
Being one of the strongest Cleaners in the entire Ground, Semiu was confident that the man could power through the mission and come back victorious. Perhaps he was victorious, but not in a way that would truly complete an assignment. The secretary let out a sigh of exasperation as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Enjin never failed to make her job hard, but she also never failed to make his job a hassle in return. The two were close in a way to rival each other's limitations and that’s probably why Enjin would previously crush over her if it weren’t for the fact that he had learnt that Semiu swung mostly the other way.
“I’ll take note of that for next time—it won't be long until more come to life and you'll be sent back. Welcome back, though. I’ve got good news for you.” Semiu spoke coolly.
Coincidentally, Enjin’s stomach grumbled and he looked down at his cigarette that had mysteriously been put out. His thick eyebrow twitched as he scrutinised the secretary pinching her forefinger and thumb together indifferently, slight ashes falling as she rubbed them together. Did she seriously use her power to put out his cigarette?! That was so not fair—he literally just lighted it before he walked inside. What a waste of a cigarette! There was no surprise to that, however. The small embers could spark up a large flame on her desk with all the hazards that could catch onto fire immediately and get rid of her hard work and effort he couldn’t help but admire.
“Like I said, no smoking! And what I was gonna say is—”
“I got it, I got it! Jeez, can the news wait though? I’m pretty hungry right now.” He grumbled, already turning his back to make his leave.
“You overgrown brat. At least listen to what I have to say! There’ll be a new member joining the Cleaners and we’re putting you in charge of her because you’ve been specifically requested.”
Same old news. He’s dealt with plenty of brats, all easy enough to tame which was no surprise. His boots thudded against the wooden floor as he walked off with his beloved Umbreaker in one hand while the other in the pocket. Team Akuta was a team full of misfits since the captain himself was one in the past. He’s had plenty of experience with teaching newbies so he didn’t think too much about the news. Enjin didn’t need to stay to listen to the details because he could fill in the blanks himself: new member, find a mentor to train them—easy peasy, lemon squeezy!
Except it was pretty difficult for new members to one hundred percent fully stay. Cleaning was a difficult job because the trash beasts out there were merciless. Ruthless and cruel, they’re programmed to do one thing and that is to ruin the livelihoods of people who live on the Ground. No matter how familiar he was with spending time with a Spherite, Enjin still had his personal vendettas against the majority of people who ignorantly live on that Sphere while discarding their shit on his home. All that garbage could only do so much as to birthing bottomless monsters that feel no satisfaction no matter how much they destroy their surroundings.
That is why so many people live their days in fear, especially during the trash rains that occur every six years—a perfect holiday for the trash beasts to wreak even more havoc on the Ground. It was pretty often that people would quit fighting trash beasts out of their irreversible fear of those behemoths; only the strongest would stay. It was survival of the fittest after all. Otherwise, there were other options such as working in the civilian side and doing office jobs such as Semiu or death. Cleaners put their lives on the line every single day so it wasn’t rare to hear about the loss of a Cleaner because of the many factors that could steal a soul before they can reach full satisfaction.
Not to mention, it wasn't everyday that you'd find a Giver with the whole culture of discarding items once they're no longer of use for you.
Take Gob for example. All that polluted waste in his lungs had made him leave the world too soon. Enjin still thinks about that care-free smile when he’s alone at night smoking in the mess hall. Not that he’s too upset anymore—what happens will only continue to happen. Freedom is limited to health as well, but at least that man could pass peacefully while his spirit continued to live on through the numerous murals he’s produced while living freely on the Ground. Enjin would always feel a rush of adrenaline whenever he'd watch Gob bring life to the HQ since his idea of a canvas was never limited to just a white blank slate.
It’s just that it wouldn’t be long until the excitement goes away. Enjin had his doubts that whatever happens now won’t be as exciting as his time with the Spherite kid he took under his wing.
But enough about his miseries and everlasting boredom! Enjin focused on taking a quick shower to scrub off the remaining dirt off his skin. The foul smell of rotting garbage was faint yet still lingered near as he entered his room that had the familiar scent of smoke and cologne. It was mostly dark despite the afternoon sun blazing out the window he kept closed all the time. Enjin kicked off his boots by the door and walked over the mess in his room that was composed of magazines, clothes, miscellaneous items he found that would be useful for a certain Spherite. For a Cleaner, it was ironic that he didn’t clean his room that often. But the meaning of being a cleaner had changed so what he’s thinking of right now is a janitor and not a trash beast exterminating Cleaner.
After shrugging off his coat, his stomach rumbled once again and all he could think about was eating lots of junk food. His occupation made him burn through lots of calories so he had a pretty lax relationship between whatever sorts of meals he'd eat. Inked fingers now bare of jewellery moved to his hips to remove the bag that held his full-mask, shortly unbuckling his belt after. Once his red tank top fell to the floor, Enjin rubbed his sore shoulders then slid his boxers down to his ankles, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.
He then walked into the bathroom and turned the shower tap on, setting it to a hot temperature but not so much that it would burn him alive. Despite not many, all of his exes had one thing in common: they all practiced for hell. But also that they were all batshit insane to the point he wonders if it’s just him or his luck with scoring hot babes with issues. That was also another reason why he hasn’t been able to jump back in the ocean of dating in all honesty. It was embarrassing for him to admit that he had an underlying fear of accidentally falling for the wrong girl and going through another messy breakup that would make him the villain of all womanhood.
The steam filled up the room and fogged up the mirror where only a glimpse of his contemplative expression appeared. After stepping into the shower, a long heavy sigh left his lips. Enjin never turned the shower any more clockwise than what he was accustomed to, but today he wanted to feel something. Anything. The small creak of the tap was faint compared to the pattering water, a small hiss joining after.
“Fuck, that’s hot…” He groaned quietly, golden irises eclipsed by his closed eyelids.
As he lathered himself up, he felt a slight twitch between his legs yet chose to ignore it. It was always a struggle to reach for his back whenever he showered, he tried to focus on instead. He had more strength than flexibility so he couldn't wash his back properly. Down, down, down, the soap foamed around his torso then slid down his thighs which made him feel another twitch again.
Enjin couldn't resist it.
His eyes averted down where inked and calloused fingers wrapped around his thick and hardening member without it processing in his head. Veins twitching beneath his touch as the hot spray of the water cascaded down his groin, giving him the warmth that he yearned for from another person.
Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip till he could taste copper, Enjin pumped his cock slowly with a firm grip. His eyes closed as he tried to imagine something to get himself to climax to yet his mind remained empty. His hand tightened around himself as he sped up, struggling to think of a pretty face to get his dick off to. With every second passing by, his hand would tighten just enough to replicate his poor memory of someone's wet haven but not too much that it would be borderline torture. His hand moved faster and faster with every breathless groan he made, the familiar coil building up below his stomach. Pearls of his pre-cum down his shaft and into the drain. But to his misfortune, Enjin couldn't get himself to finish at all. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't think of a single pretty face to help him cum to. At this point, he wasn't even jerking off to anyone but to get rid of the built up stress and indifference he's been feeling as of late. That realisation made his grip loosens and released himself, an irritated and disappointed grumble coming from the back of his throat as he watched his leaking cock struggle to soften. For that, he changed the temperature of the water till it was icy cold and enough to distract himself from edging himself unwillingly.
“Fuuuuuck… What the hell am I even doing?”
It’s been like this for ages now—him struggling to get that huge wave of pleasure to crash down on himself. It wasn’t that he was incompetent or that there was something wrong with his cock—his cock was plenty fine by the way! But it was just that nothing turned him on anymore! Well, not enough for him to get himself off anyway. Enjin was getting fucking blue balls for no apparent reason at all and he was at a point where he was willing to quit his job for a few days just to satiate himself. Like having a one week break where he'd lock himself up in a brothel and go absolutely fucking insane until his dick couldn't stand up anymore. He was that desperate.
What was worse was that he was absolutely humiliated that he couldn’t even imagine anything. Not the erotic magazines or the hot women who dressed themselves in little clothing that left plenty for his creative mind to imagine. That familiar tingle down his spine was a goal he’ll never be able to reach at this stage that his cigarettes have been running out concerningly quickly. The most he can achieve an endorphin rush was from his tobacco addiction, but even then he didn’t have any plans to get lung cancer too quickly. Enjin was indulgent, but not to the point of immediate destruction. He didn't want to go see the nurse and be banned from his beloved cigarettes. She wasn't strict but he would hate to disappoint her since that would make her older brother heavily irritated.
The guilt reluctantly left his mind just like the steam escaping the shower as he finished showering. Rivulets of water dropped down his pectorals and further down his body, standing in front of the mirror above the sink while focusing on the outlines of the hard work and effort into shaping himself. It was a daily practice to always pose in the mirror while flexing his biceps and abs, only wrapping himself in a towel after he had finished winking at himself with finger guns. Cliche; but a man’s gotta love himself one way or another.
A wet path created by the droplets of water followed him as he threw his dampened towel onto his bed without a second glance. While searching for a clean change of clothes in nothing but his birthday suit, Enjin made a mental reminder to do his laundry some time very soon.
It was only late in the afternoon before the other members would come back from their missions, but Enjin had already clocked out. With the responsibilities that he had to look after, there were plenty of perks that came with being the strongest captain in the entirety of the Ground. Although it wasn’t an official rule, Enjin carved many new ways for himself as he was a man whose hobbies included venturing out on a whim. Free will was a man's best power after all!
Golden eyes scanning the messy room as he searched for a clean pair of boxers, then lighting up as he picked up a novelty pair of ripe bananas above a cerulean backdrop. He brought the undergarment to his nose and sniffed.
“Yep, still good.” He murmured to himself with an approving nod, standing up straight to put the boxers on.
As Enjin walked over to his closet, he was about to slip on a simple black tee until he heard a creak coming from behind—his bed.
“Ugh, bananas? You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’d rate that a two out of five stars.” A woman commented; her voice a disappointed and ignorant alto.
Immediately, Enjin snapped his head back, eyes widening in shock as he jumped in surprise and dropped his shirt to the floor.
“What the hell?! Were you here the entire time?! That’s freakin’ creepy, y’know?!” He yelled in surged panic, quickly picking up his shirt to cover his boxers.
While he was absolutely confused and mad that someone had snuck into his room, his body was giving him mixed signals that contradicted his negative reaction. Goosebumps rising all over his body and a shiver running down his spine. It didn't help that his cock was still somewhat awake despite him trying so hard to distract himself. This shitty timing was making Enjin unfortunately thrilled.
Especially from the way he watched the pretty thing stretch her arms out as she yawned, sleeveless mock neck-top rising to reveal an inch of her s/c skin and the low rise of her f/c cargo pants. The girl rolled onto her side, h/c waves framing the curves of her soft cheeks. Eyes scrunched as she continued to stretch, then opening to meet his gold eyes with her own wide e/c eyes. From the small glimpse of light coming from the blinds, it made her innocent face glow as if she was an angel of temptation and sin itself.
But that moment of pure wonder didn’t last for long the moment she opened her mouth, sitting up with her leg crossed over the other with entitlement as she fixed up her bangs.
“Don’t speak to me in that tone, peasant. I’m not creepy—you’re just hella slow! How dare you keep a lady of my status waiting?!” She glared daggers at him, the sweet pitch of her voice juxtaposing her bitter tone and choice of words.
“Hahh? That’s a bit harsh. What’s a pretty thing like you doing here though? You got a name, cutie?” Enjin’s brow twitched as he attempted to sweet talk to her.
“Me? I’m your new owner. Didn’t your boss tell you already? I’m taking this land!”
The fake smile on Enjin’s face immediately wiped off as he took a closer look at the accessory resting on her chest. A silver glint flashing in his eyes as he stepped towards her, scrutinizing the dog tag with an engraved flower and “L/n” written beneath it. Immediately, he stood back up with a reluctant familiarity of deja vu, eyebrows creasing together as he crossed his arms.
“An iris…?”
“Are you deaf or what?! I said I’m taking over this place!” The woman stood up, jabbing a finger at his bare chest. “Put on some clothes, pervert! Or else I’ll report you to the authorities for sexual harassment.”
“Sexual harassment?! I didn’t even do anything! You’re the one who should be reported for sneaking into my room when no one else is allowed to do it!”
“Well that’s not gonna happen ‘coz I’m here now. You have to obey me now! That’s a direct order!”
Enjin swatted her hand away with a scoff of disbelief, retracting in his steps to quickly put his shirt on anyway. There was no way he would listen to a rude snob like her so easily. Her disrespect was a major turn-off for him even if she had a cute face! He was so confused but there was one thing for certain; he did not like this girl at all. Not even a single bit! From the tilt of her chin to the way she weaponised her status like it was enough to make someone as powerful as him cower in fear when he literally fights trash beasts day and night.
“Like hell I’m gonna listen to an entitled snobby brat.” He scoffs bitterly, sneering at her.
The look of disbelief and offense on her face was almost comical if it weren’t for the surge of frustration piling up in his chest. This woman was far from normal! But who is to say that any resident of the Ground is normal when there’s more trash than people every year? Whoever she was, Enjin didn’t have time for brats who cross their arms and get all up in his space no matter how small they are.
“Alright, party’s over. Get out of my room before I throw you out myself.”
The woman sighed with a stomp of her foot, “You’re so frustrating! Fine! Since you’re so stupid like a dumb little fly, I’ll explain it to you better!”
“I’m moving in with you!”
He let out an unamused chuckle of disbelief, sweat dropping down his temple as he stared down at the woman who reached no further than his chest. Like hell that was true! Enjin couldn’t recall hearing news about a new roommate, but he definitely knew that this woman was most certainly a delusional psycho with issues. Probably more issues than what someone of her height could mostly capacitate—her ego was literally bigger than her.
And dealing with snobby brats was not how Enjin wanted to spend his afternoon!
a/n: i told myself that i would explore new genres of writing but never saw myself writing something like this. today's takoyaki burnt my tongue but it was worthwhile.
summary: zanka (and later eisha) makes their appearance. sparring w/ him to test your fighting skills doesn't go well. he bullys you into quitting highkenuinely. enjin doxxes your identity btw. please read previous chapter here! (wc: 4172)
note: i learnt what a taglist is but it still confuses me. is it for specific fandoms or general writing? hmm...
HIDDEN BEHIND THE BUILDINGS AND NUMEROUS ROOMS of the headquarters, a large dirt field took the name of an outdoor training field. For an organisation so plentiful, it was rare to discover the entire committee gathered together in one day. Either members would be on missions, on break, or just slacking off elsewhere, it was no surprise that the outdoor training grounds were fairly empty. Apart from the lone and tall slender man who was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.
His greyish blond hair was slicked back into a mullet with dark oak undersides. His eyebrows were uniquely vertical, and his ears were decorated with tasseled turquoise earrings. The young man wore a distinctively different Cleaner's uniform—ceremonial in a style that distinguished him from other fellow Cleaners, highlighted through the glamourous badge of the company emblem he wore proudly. Besides him, a large wooden stick adorned his side—ordinary and unassuming in appearance, yet highly valuable in worth and power.
Footsteps patted against the ground, awakening him from his small afternoon nap to reveal striking navy blue eyes as deep as an ocean mentioned in fictional tales. On his far right, a tall blond man in a coat walked alongside a shorter girl in an oversized jacket and long grey and burgundy skirt. The young boy stood up straight, eyes widening and lips parting as he felt his heart thump against his chest.
“Y/n…? Is that you?” His low voice gravelled as he reached for his wooden staff, footsteps heading towards them before he could realise it. “Is it really you?”
An awkward smile was forcibly tugged at her lips as she stopped near him, half of her body hidden behind Enjin’s arm. With a firm pat on her shoulder, Enjin pushed her forward.
“Thanks for coming here on such short notice, Zanka. I needed you to help train with Y/n for a bit just to get a grip on her fighting abilities again.” Enjin spoke, then looked down at Y/n. “You brought your vital instruments, right?”
Y/n scratched the nape of her neck before reluctantly nodding. Her eyes hesitantly looked back at Zanka, feeling an unsettling bubble of embarrassment swirl inside her guts. He hasn't changed at all from how she remembers him. Would he still be the same boy she used to drink tea with during some of her breaks? In all honesty, she doubted it judging from the pure shock on his face.
“Wait a minute, you want me to fight her immediately after she comes back? Where were you in the first place, Y/n? Do you know how worried we were?” Zanka’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer to her.
“Hold it right there, give her some time to adjust. She just got back so we're trying our best to make sure she doesn't run away again.”
“If she just got back, then why do you want me to spar with her? She's got some explaining to do, don’tcha think?”
There was a flurry of emotions that could be seen in Zanka's blue eyes; a window to his soul that spoke levels about his worry and anger. But mostly relief. It made the guilt that already lived inside Y/n grow bigger, watching his shoulders tense and head tilt down to scan her face again. She was still the same Y/n he knew, right? Same h/c hair, same e/c eyes, same eye bags—no, they definitely worsened. He couldn't understand what part of her thought it was logical to up and leave without any respite of hesitation. He hated selfish people who didn’t care about the opinions of others but remained a hypocrite for wanting that attention on himself, too.
Enjin nodded in acknowledgement before stuffing his hands in his pockets, “I get your point, but we still need to see how much Y/n can still fight. Half a year has passed and I wanna see if she's gone stronger or weaker. She's our trump card after all.”
Zanka looked back at Y/n who took out her fountain pen, watching how her thumb pressed tightly against the cap until it paled into white. His eyes dragged across her figure as he searched for a familiar f/c journal he's been curious about.
“Not gonna use your good ‘ol journal, Y/n?”
Y/n shook her head and replied faintly, “Not today.”
An inkling of disappointment pooled in his chest as he walked to the centre of the field with her behind him, “Really? Why not? I’ve rarely seen you use it. I heard it was really strong—you should give me your all if you’re gonna try practicing with me, Y/n.”
“I’m not really…” Y/n trailed off, eyes of confliction glued to Enjin’s figure as he made himself comfortable sitting on a bench with legs spread wide. “I mean, it’s not really an offensive weapon unlike this one. Plus, I’m not that strong anymore.”
“Sounds like bull. Anyway, just give me your best shot!”
The lid on Y/n’s pen was pulled off, e/c eyes glowing into a brighter hue as she focused on summoning her vital instrument. Her brows furrowed with concentration as she struggled to focus with her mind constantly blanking. A small click of her tongue escaped with annoyance as she gripped the pen tighter, finally transforming the pen into a large sword that appeared in her small hand. The grip was tightly bound by a withering burgundy leather and the tip was a slightly flattened sphere of paling gold. Both her hands wrapped around the long handle above each other but there was plenty of space left which couldn’t fit in her hands.
It had been far too long since Y/n had used her sword, Shiki¹, meaning “Divine Blessing”. The blade was a thick slab of metal—silver but edges burnt into a dark obsidian sharper than the most prickly and pointy needles on the Ground. It was colossal, pointing to the sky at two meters which had a wide base before thinning out to create a point that could slice even air. Its arms at the base stretched out wide with dulling gold wings. At the centre between both metallic feathery wings, an angel took form of an infant with its hands clasped together in prayer. The eyes of the angel were eclipsed by a blindfold, as if the heavens couldn’t bear the gruesome weight of however she had used her mighty sword—as if punishment disguised as vengeance could become a heavenly blessing if you cultivate ignorance in bliss.
Y/n’s heels dug into the ground as she adjusted her grip in an attempt to lift the sword more easily. If she had a closer relationship to her sword just like the past, it would’ve been as heavy as a sheet of paper. Yet her mind was a jungle of disaster waiting for her to crumble, and so the weight of her sword factored as much as the heavy burdens inside her head. To other wielders, it measured the mass of seven times of her weight which would be equal to a chaotic trash beast in its prime of destruction.
Zanka grinned widely as he gripped his staff diagonally in front of him, his own eyes glowing into a bright cerulean as his tool transformed into a metallic instrument with spikes protruding from it.
“Do your hardest to beat this average guy on your own!” He raised his voice as the adrenaline in his veins began to pump faster and faster.
Zanka watched his co-worker run up to him quickly with her sword trailing behind her inches away from the ground. A cocky smile stretched on his lips as he bent his knees, ready to welcome the force as she swung the blade from below. Her blade sliced through the air almost rapidly, a high-pitched whistle forming just until she attacked him.
His segmented eyebrows raised up high as he took a step back as both weapons collided. Zanka had prepared for impact, but he was most definitely not prepared for this. Zanka felt a faint vibration which shuddered against his calloused fingers as a small clank of the two weapons made contact with each other. Immediately, his eyes narrowed at Y/n with anger at the sheer audacity of the woman who retracted her sword and held it in one hand almost indifferently.
There was no way she just did that!!
“Hey…” Zanka’s voice lowered as he gripped his staff tighter, “What the hell was that even supposed to be?! Are you fuckin’ with me right now?!”
From his perception, Y/n had used the momentum of her speed to manifest the weight she had swung at him. However, before the blade could even collide with him, she had used all her strength to cease all movement from attacking him. It highly pissed him off knowing that Y/n wasn’t willing to fight him using all her strength. As if she was underestimating him and everyone knows how much Zanka hated the idea of being sold for short.
Yet anger became a wall that obstructed his vision from seeing the hesitation in Y/n’s eyes. Hesitation from worry. Hesitation from fear; that if she were to hit him with all her strength, she might cause irreversible damage whilst having the knowledge of the potential of what she could possibly do. It was for the best that she didn’t take him seriously. The poor boy was only seventeen. He had so much to live for after all, unlike her.
“Whoops…” She muttered, stepping back with her sword.
“Don’t you whoops me. Fight me properly or don’t fight me at all! You wanted this, didn’t you?!”
Zanka lunged at her this time, leaping into the air with his staff in the air pointing at her while lying on his shoulder. With a forceful push, the staff darted at her and caused a big cloud of dirt and dust to erupt. Y/n jumped back as she dodged the attack but that didn’t deter Zanka from allowing her to steady herself before he immediately lunged at her again.
“Stop dodging me and fight me, damn it!”
A small huff left Y/n’s lips as she focused on her breathing, taking even smaller breaths and holding before exhaling for longer. After having a panic attack while struggling against a difficult trash beast in the past, she had taught herself this breathing technique to conserve her energy. Before long, Y/n resorted to breathing this way until she had forgotten how to breathe “properly” at all.
With a quick side step, Y/n swung Shiki diagonally from below to attack Zanka—this time with at least half of her strength. Was it really half? But Zanka was quick enough to deflect her strikes, easily landing more hits on her than himself. He zeroed in on her and shoved her back roughly, her sword leaving her hands as she leapt backwards.
“C’mon, is that all ya got?!”
“Probably. So what?” Y/n grumbled, tumbling sideways to avoid the staff which impacted the ground and caused a miniature bowl of dirt.
Her hand reached above her head to the sky as she stood back up, taking a hit to the side before her sword came plummeting down from the air. She caught the handle of the claymore before using the momentum to swing down at Zanka, creating a bigger impact crater in the dirt herself. After all, she had taught him that move in the past. It was dangerous but Y/n knew he was quick enough to dodge the attack. Y/n grabbed the sword and dashed forward, swinging at him once more as the two continued to swing and deflect each other's moves.
However, Zanka’s strength had clearly improved and so has his speed. It was until Zanka had swung his staff too forcibly that it sent the woman to the ground, a scratch forming on her palms as they scraped from the motion. With a haughty sneer, he pointed his staff at Y/n’s face while standing above her with one foot on her long skirt which prevented her from fleeing.
“I’ve got you now. Not so tough for a big girl like you, huh?” He snickered. “Is that it?”
Y/n grunted, rubbing her head as she lifted her head up and leaned on her elbows. Her brows furrowed as she looked at the tip of the staff unamused before landing back on Zanka, observing his expression. With a sigh, she leaned closer to the staff carelessly and watched him hesitantly yank his instrument back barely.
“You’ve gotten stronger, Zanka.” Y/n panted softly, her breathing a little jagged as she accepted the defeat.
The grin on Zanka’s face faltered as his blue eyes widened before turning into an even greater smile. It was his first win against her after all the memories of him losing to her replayed in his mind. He had finally grown to a point where he was so much stronger now so he could finally surpass one of the few people he looked up to. And that definitely inflated his ego a lot more than how much Enjin could affect him.
“Hah, of course I have! While you were gone sulking away, I’ve used up my time to become a better guy than I was yesterday. That’s the only way you gotta live if you wanna defeat more trash beasts. Shit happens when you go missing for a whole year.”
Y/n’s eyes softened as the glow faded away, her sword transforming back into a pen with a cloud of mist that landed in her hand. “Yeah… A lot can happen. Even if it was actually half of that.”
“Wait a minute—is that it? You’re giving up that quickly? No surprise attacks?”
“I lost. That’s all there is to it.”
That didn’t sound right. She lost to him. The way she described it made it sound a lot like it was a victory that centralised on her loss rather than his own win. Maybe she had grown weaker and a lot more slower than he had remembered her and believed that her deficiency was a sign of his own growing strength. But it didn’t feel like he was growing that much. Perhaps he did even by a little, but Zanka was still the same average bastard that anyone could fight against. So it didn’t seem like he had grown at all and the dopamine crashed down immediately as he lowered his staff with a disgusted scoff. He had won at what cost?
“Shut the hell up. I don’t believe it. You lost on purpose, didn’tcha? That seriously pisses me off.” He glared at her, refusing to get off her skirt.
Suddenly, a cold wind rushed past them as winter grew in Y/n’s e/c eyes. She glared right back at the boy but not with a hostile and frustrated anger that he had. Instead, it was an indescribable look that made him tense up and wonder if she was disappointed in him the way he was disappointed in himself. Y/n pointed the pen at him smoothly without hesitation, eyes glowing as it transformed back into the colossal sword. Zanka jumped back quickly with shock, stumbling behind himself as a sharp prick formed at his throat. His thumb reached to press against the cut which wasn’t deep enough to cause irrevocable damage but enough to let blood leak.
“Sure I did.” Y/n sighed, glowing eyes fading back to normal as her sword shifted back as an unassuming pen once again.
Y/n stood up and pocketed her vital instrument before patting the dirt off her skirt firmly. Footsteps thumped across the ground and got closer to them where Enjin finally joined them once more. Zanka frowned hurtfully as he crossed his arms, his Lovely Assistaff returning to its ordinary stick form as his own eyes no longer glowed.
“Hold up, was that it? I expected the fight to be cooler but that was way lamer than I thought.” Enjin let out a half-amused breathless chuckle as he stood between the two.
“Hmph, it’s not like I even tried anyway. I didn’t realise that Y/n became such a pathetic loser who can’t win against someone as average as me.”
Enjin held his hand out in front of Zanka in surprise, “Easy there, tiger. Calm down, will ya? You still gotta play it cool as the winner. You won, kid.”
“No, I did not.” Zanka gritted his teeth, walking past Enjin’s hand towards Y/n and jabbing a finger at her chest. “That fight was so fucking stupid. Why bother even coming back if that’s how you’re gonna act? I refuse to work with someone as pathetic as you.”
Y/n looked up at him with her eyes widening with shock. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes as she frowned at him, refusing to say anything back at him. He was just a kid. She shouldn’t reply to him because she was an adult and was obviously expected to be the bigger person in this situation. Y/n nodded quietly in acknowledgement of his feelings. He was probably really disappointed in her just as she was disappointed in herself. Enjin was quick to join his side, a firm hand on Zanka’s wrist to stop him from going any further as he shook his head in disapproval.
“We don’t need none of that now.” Enjin sighed as he watched Zanka cross his arms again. He glanced back at Y/n, taking in how much the boy had roughened her up. It made him wonder if she was even trying herself but he couldn’t assume that too quickly. Maybe Zanka was right. He was the one fighting her after all. “Damn, he got you real good, huh? We can’t have you getting too hurt before I give you any missions, so go ahead and see the nurse real quickly. I’m gonna have a chat with Mr Tough Guy over here.”
“Tell me why she came back.” Zanka asked quietly.
Enjin noticed the small red line across his throat, “Oh, she got you though! Maybe she’s not so weak after all.”
“So what? A weakling is still a weakling if they got nothin’ to fight for—not even themselves! Now tell me why she’s here after all this time.”
The taller man heard it—the small quiver in Zanka’s rough voice. He could easily understand where his rage and frustration came from and the damage that is caused from being let down so quickly like that. With a heavy sigh, Enjin’s voice took a more serious tone as he wrapped an arm around Zanka with a firm pat on the boy's shoulder.
“Look, I get that you’re disappointed that Y/n isn’t the same as you remember her. And hey, I am, too. She was one of our strongest Cleaner’s as well until she decided to quit. But she came back a little damaged and we can’t just leave her to rot. Once a Cleaner, always a Cleaner. So give her some time before the real Y/n can come back, yeah?”
Zanka’s anger faded slowly as he stared at the stick in his hands, “Did someone die or somethin’? It feels like she’s mourning for someone...”
“Nah, nothing like that.” Enjin said casually, “She doesn’t have any friends or family to begin with besides us. If she even thinks of us that way.”
“You didn’t answer my question though. Why did she leave?”
“That wasn’t the question. You wanna know why she came back, right?”
“Same thing!”
Enjin cupped his chin as he looked up at the orange-yellow sky in contemplation, “Hmm… Well, from what I can tell you, she’s staying with us for a while ‘cause she needs the money after getting evicted from her old place.”
“Wait, evicted? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is she in debt or something? And what do you mean “What I can tell you”? Are you saying that there’s more to it?”
“Calm down—I’ll get to it. But that’s literally what happened. She just ran out of money and got kicked out of her place so we’re taking her in again. But also ‘cause she has insane writer’s block or whatever the hell she calls it so she wants some inspo for her book series.”
“Huh? Book series? I didn’t know she was an author…” Zanka frowned with confusion, “What books did she write? Does she go by a pen name?”
“Pen name? What’s that?”
“It’s like a nickname or secret identity for authors when they wanna be anonymous.”
“Oh, yeah. She said something like her pen name was D… D… Dreaming?”
Zanka’s head whipped at Enjin’s direction in a flash, “Hold on, you mean the Dory-Ming?!”
Enjin nodded slowly with perplexed, “Yeah, kinda ironic with that non-existent sleep schedule of hers, right?”
“You mean the same damn author who wrote “Marionette’s Final Requiem” and “Tell Me Your Wishlist”?! No way!”
“Uhh, yes way actually. I’m surprised you didn’t know about it. But I guess only few know about it like I do.” Enjin spoke carefree.
If there was ever a time where Zanka was excited, that event could never beat what he just heard now. His heart was beating so quickly and a dorky grin stretched on his lips as he looked up at Enjin with sparkles in his eyes. The same hot shot author he had been a fan of even before he had officially joined the Cleaners was the same woman he worked with. Bittersweet emotions rushed through his mind as memories played of him finding a random book to use his time when he was a student.
With a superiority complex like his, he didn’t waste any time with inauthentic friends who praise you as much as they talk shit about you behind your back. He remembered being caught so off guard from the way her words had captured his heart that before he knew it, he became a huge fan that wrote popular reviews in his free time. He especially read her books when he was bedridden from an injury from sparring with his brother too much, reminiscing how he couldn’t help but shed a tear or two from relating to the desire of wanting to be seen.
But that also meant the person he just called a “pathetic loser” and a “weakling” was the same person he used to admire so much. Zanka had such high expectations for the woman that both his adoration for her as an author and respect as a co-worker had built up so much that his guilt and disappointment only worsened. He didn’t mean to be so harsh like that. He was just a boy. But saying that “he was just a boy” would only diminish his actions and erase accountability and he was smarter than that instead of cowardly running away from his actions—unlike that plunger that stupid Spherite attacked him with the other day. If only Enjin had told him before.
Zanka wouldn’t have been so ignorant if he had just known. But maybe there must’ve been a reason that Enjin and Y/n never told him anything about her other identity. He already had theories on the author facade he created ages ago that fame was a dangerous gun that the general public held against you. He, himself, knew about that after leaving his family and demoting from his high social status to become an ordinary Cleaner. But little did Zanka know that Enjin was just as clueless as he was. Despite the nonchalant tone he incorporated, the blond man had only found out about Y/n’s true identity only recently. But that’s a secret to keep from the young boy, okay?
A nervous and small voice echoed in the walls of the medic bay which appeared as unassuming as a typical room for any nurse, “I’ve healed everything, but…”
At the farthest room beside a window, Y/n sat at the edge of the bed with her legs swinging slowly in the air because the distance between the ground and her was just as far as the distance between her and wanting to be seen. Her h/c hair had frizzed up just the slightest from Eisha’s skillful power and her pyjama pants had been neatly folded beside her, long skirt hiked up to her waist.
The shorter white haired girl frowned in worry, hands clenched tightly into fists as she stared at the gnarly large scars that were jagged as they bulged out. Multiple of them littered across her plump thighs. Eisha wore her heart on her sleeve and Y/n could smell the scent of her worry in the air along with cleaning alcohol and other medicines that filled the sterile room.
“...for some reason my powers won’t heal these.”
a/n: Is it really you? I really love this song. Babylon, too. ^^
taglist: OPEN. let me know through whatever is convenient for you, my loves.
˚˖° ୭🎐˚｡ ꒷ to my dearest, @faiwihteto
LANTERNDEX: Refer to the text above.
1) Shiki = 神恵 (シンケイ・ Shinkei) → Remove some characters from the Onyomi reading for aesthetics to achieve Shiki. Inspired by Yato of Noragami.
This post contains the cover for "Tell Me Your Wish List", the cover, and the cast playing. A warning sign [⚠︎] will be located at any designated chapter for content that may contain sensitive or triggering topics. Proceed with care :)
ᯓ➤ CW: toxic relationship. NSFW. crackfic. completely satire. idk abt smut but first chapter is literally stress gooning. drug usage. not rlly enemies to lovers. toxic relationship. arranged marriage maybe. third pov. power abuse. user is a Hellguard's daughter. yoru inspired reader (not rlly--just clickbait). did I say princess/superiority complex? oh, well, you’ve got a complex. spoiled brat user. enjin hates you but you're too cute so automatically he can't really do anything abt it. more will be revealed in due time. potential ooc and not following the story. experimental story (will only be writing if i buy myself takoyaki so i will NOT be taking this story seriously). by that i also mean i'm experimenting new techniques to write among other things.
Once Enjin found out that he'll be taking in a new member for Team Akuta, he didn't expect the daughter of a formidable Hell Guard to show up at his door. Cocky, arrogant, and obnoxiously loud—you were his worst nightmare. He's never seen a superiority complex so bad as yours that he regrets taking this job as your new mentor. Alas, he can't push you away because the future of his career is on the line and the great Corvus himself requested it. His goal was to teach you how to become a jinki user, but to him it felt more like teaching you how to treat him like a person rather than a servant of convenience. The only issue was that you refuse to co-operate for your own good because you'd rather fill in a dumb wish list instead. It's a shame that Enjin wasn't interested in tagging along on your escapades, until one day he found his schedule to be completely free. You were pulling strings behind his back again, and he had no choice but to tag along until he could have his job back. No more messing around with hot chicks for the blond charmer with the tattoos anymore.
Cover Created By Lantern (22)
❝𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐫 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐝, 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝!❞
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Contents
⚠︎ Chapter One — ⅖ ☆ Banana Boxers
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Chapter Two — Money Buys Happiness (And Company)
Chapter Three — Waiting for something to happen?
Cast
Y/n L/n
“Who even needs a vital instrument?! I’ll just own you and turn you into my weapon! Enjin spine sword!”
LIKES: Money, sparkly things, being obeyed, people with no backbones, being praised and worshipped by simps.
DISLIKES: Enjin, Enjin, ENJIN!! Men who stink like tobacco, blondies with charming smiles, people who don’t blindly obey her, people that stand up to her.
Enjin
“Over my dead body! I hope you’re well aware that you’re completely not my type! I’m only into hot chicks. REAL hot chicks that don’t whine to me every damn second!”
LIKES: The taste and smell of tobacco, determined people that can get savage when they fight, hot women that are a little naughty, Y/n.
DISLIKES: The rain, absolutely CANNOT handle immature and childish women, needy kids and women, Y/n L/n.
summary: my babygirl enjin finds loser mc with his spidey senses and y'all visit crazy goggle man who gives you a very modest uniform. please read previous chapter here! (wc: 4090)
note: short kinda filler chapter bc i've included y/n's profile and rough appearance (which has been sooo mysteriously been tampered with btw). remember that this is how i see y/n as a character bc it is my pov. yours? totally different and that's okay. change whatever detail to fit your own imagination (ie. skin, hair, eyes, etc.) it's free will, my love. there will be a chapter where you can see the original file in the future.
important: dream lantern is a story that follows the anime and not the manga (mostly). i am a manga reader but i write in the pov that focuses solely on y/n and her growth and nobody else. my dear readers, you are the stars of my galaxy; nobody else will shine as bright as you do.
ENJIN WAS A MAN OF CONNECTION—the world itself knew that. There was a silent resilience that radiated from him which made him stick out like a sore thumb. His mysterious past was a benefactor that shaped him into becoming the man he was today, glowing with a benevolent radiance that shined brighter than any light. His beloved Umbreaker was a multiple of his guidance—an ensign that brought people together like a red string of fate. That’s mainly why he cherished his vital instrument so much. Enjin took pride in the name Enjin for he was a man that gave people meaning to their lives when they became lost from straying too far. He was the bright lantern that would obnoxiously illuminate the dark silence with the Cleaner’s emblem sitting proudly on his back.
So if there was anyone to blame, it would be him.
He may be a man of connection, but it was for this reason that he is to be blamed. With his constantly right gut feelings, you’d expect him to know where his younger teammates he had taken under his wing.
Enjin definitely lived up to those expectations. Heck, it wasn’t even an expectation until people started believing him that he was quite literally a living GPS that sought out individuals lost and in sorrow—misfits, because he was one himself, too.
Therefore, once he arrived at the doorway with Umbreaker in his elbow, Enjin began to doubt himself for the first time. Yellow eyes narrowed at the tiny light from the small glass panel. Not a single speck of dust had moved in this empty and narrow space. His thick brows knitted together as he walked inside, heavy footsteps echoing against the creaking wood on the ground. He gave her plenty of time to tidy up around here but clearly not enough for her to make her full escape. He didn’t think that she’d coward out so quickly when she had only arrived.
“It hasn’t even been a day and she’s…” Enjin trailed off, turning around in the small space with a heavy sigh.
Maybe Enjin wasn’t a man of connection as he lives up to. There were other people he couldn’t allocate, but they didn’t matter to him like Y/n or the other members of Akuta did. He always knew that Y/n would leave him someday and his hunch was proved correct, except he didn’t think it would happen so soon. Enjin recalled the days he spent off missions precisely five months ago, giving Y/n exactly thirty days to return to the Cleaners—to him. Yet the days would bleed into months and he had no choice but to take advantage of his missions to search for that same h/c hair and e/c eyes in the seas of trash or people. It was important to balance your work life from your personal life, so he didn’t use his breaks on searching for her. He couldn’t let his friends and coworkers know that Y/n’s disappearance meant so much to him when they were never that close to begin with. Were they?
The letters he sent her had addresses that didn’t exist. He was aware of people with vital instruments that controlled mechanical bird-like items that delivered letters across the Ground to its rightful owners merely through using a name; location unneeded. He was also aware that these deliveries were used frequently between Y/n and Semiu, hence why he naturally started sending out letters himself, too. It was until three months had faded by that the letters stopped coming and his worry began to quiet down, but never settled. He couldn’t allow Y/n to be alone by herself. There was a churn in his gut that told him he shouldn’t let her stay alone for too long, and out of all the hunches he had, that was the only accurate thought he could confidently believe in.
Enjin searched everywhere in the headquarters with the little inkling of hope that naively grew in his chest. She couldn’t be far from here, could she? It had only been a quarter of an hour by the time he had returned, so surely she wouldn’t have run away. Unless she was in the process of it. But what good would it do to her if she were to escape when she was the one who stepped in here in the first place? Enjin knew she was dumb, but not so dumb to the point where she would blindly follow through such an impulsive action. She wouldn’t be at the training grounds because she never liked to be seen in open places—it made her lazy and unable to take herself seriously. Not the food court either since they had already eaten together just before. She still owed him after that—was it seventeen dollars? Twenty? He’ll figure it out eventually.
Inked fingers reached to his choker as he called a trustworthy eye who sat at the front desk everyday, counting the seconds until his call was picked up, “Hey, Semiu, by any chance did you see Y/n leave?”
“Y/n? No, I haven’t seen her. She didn’t leave, did she?”
Enjin let out a hum of contemplation, “No, nothin’ like that. If you didn’t see her, then she’s probably still here. Thanks, Semiu.”
“No problem.”
His strides were long but not fast. There was no point rushing himself when he was confident she wouldn’t have escaped. Enjin made his way to the library and that’s where his confidence beamed the most. With the numerous books standing on the shelves and the countless memories of Y/n spending her forced breaks in here (forced only because she’d skip work), he reminisced, scaring her out of her thoughts whenever her nose was buried in between the pages. He wasn’t a fan of books since they lacked action and movement when he found himself living in the moment, but he remembers reading a few books here and there especially to learn more about trash beasts. Yet to his surprise, Y/n was nowhere to be found. Not even in the quiet corner hidden behind the romance shelves which made him shudder every time he walked past there.
It would be way convenient for Y/n to have a choker on her. Enjin knew how much she hated the idea of having anything around her neck, being the person trying to convince her to wear them when he first took her in. There was no way that a device like the choker would quite literally choke her, and that seemed to be one of the factors that made her never wear them. Apart from being socially awkward, that is. But if she couldn’t use them, then he had no choice but to deal with the cards he has right now. Enjin sighed internally, he hated needy women and children.
Out of curiosity, the blond made his way to the top floor where he would frequent in order to make his reports. That was until he stopped dead in his tracks behind a wall. There was a very faint sound almost too quiet to actually be heard, but it was there. No one but him was up here from what he remembered. Everyone was most likely busy on a mission or working on something else. It came from Corvus’s office: a light scuffling sound of someone taking small steps yet were hurried.
Enjin stepped out and that’s when his eyes widened, landing upon a stray Y/n pacing around in circles in front of the closed door. Her brows were furrowed and she was chewing on her bottom lip, footsteps hurrying as her head was lowered. With her arms crossed and one hand cupping her chin, Enjin could tell she was deep in thought. He cleared his throat once but she didn’t notice him. Twice, she paused for a split second then gasped to herself, only to walk faster with panic rising from her. Surprisingly, she didn’t seem to notice him when he was a man that didn’t demand attention for he was given it by merely breathing.
Without hesitation, Enjin placed a firm hand on her shoulder to stop her and stepped in front of her, bending down to her height with a serious face of his own which mirrored hers.
“Woah, there, you need to calm down. Tell me what’s going on. You’re walking around in circles like you’ve gone mad.” He frowned, staring at her widened e/c and reddened sore lips that parted with a quiet gasp.
“Enjin…?” Y/n whispered, her brows only furrowing further as she retracted from him. “What’re you doing here?”
“Obviously looking for you. Could you stop making it so hard for me by disappearing randomly? Sheesh, I left for one second and you’re gone.”
Enjin’s tone hardened with annoyance as he looked between Corvus’s door and down at Y/n’s nervous expression, taking note of her fiddling with her thumbs as if she was caught in the process of something horribly suspicious. With a defeated sigh, he turned his back and began to walk at a slow pace which she could follow.
“You probably shouldn’t snoop around his office like that. Whatever you’re doing, that’s some real Raider shit going on right there. I doubt you’d be crazy enough to switch up like that though.” His casual tone almost made it seem that he was indifferent. Almost. It didn’t hide his growing concern for her as he heard her follow after him but not besides him. “Let’s go get your uniform. August is probably done making it.”
“R-right, sorry about that.”
There was that god awful silence that seemed to drown Y/n again. She hated how loud she could hear the footsteps beneath her, concentrating on softening her steps until Enjin had to look behind to see if she was following him. He knew she was trailing after him, but sometimes it was hard to sense if she was physically there because of how quiet she was—almost like a ghost. Noticing the uncomfortable and awkward frown on her weary face, he disrupted the unwanted peace.
“Wanna tell me what you were thinking about so deeply back there?”
“Huh? Um…” Y/n looked at the tattoos that creeped up at the nape of his neck before looking down at her shoes again, her voice softer as she struggled to formulate an answer.
What could she even tell him? From the way she was pacing in circles in front of Corvus’s office, he probably believed that she was a traitor right now! A detestable Raider with no morals and manners. Y/n’s bottom lip was caught in between her teeth as she ignored the metallic taste of her blood, walking quietly behind him deep in thought again.
“It’s just… stress, I guess. Nothing more, nothing less.” She murmured quietly.
Enjin slowed down a step and moved to her side, “‘Bout what exactly? Is it the resignation you’re worried about? Don’t worry about that ‘cause Corvus didn’t seem to mind it at all.”
Y/n also slowed down a step only to walk behind him instead, “No, it’s not that. Just some other things. Don’t worry.”
“Doesn’t sound like it. You sure?”
Enjin’s lip curled upside down as he held back the annoyed click of his tongue. Couldn’t she see he was trying to walk beside her? Oh, well, it didn’t matter (it did.) Maybe those few years he spent alongside meant nothing to her because she would always tell him whatever bothered her even if it troubled himself, too. He wasn’t good at being a serious person at all, and maybe that’s why he wasn’t good at scoring women despite the charming smile he wore which made people flock to his feet. There was a small void that formed in his heart. It didn’t sit well in his stomach, but it stayed there and grew bigger almost to the size of a palm. Painless, completely harmless, yet he could feel it growing there when it used to be as big as a grain of salt.
Y/n nodded her head even if he couldn’t see her, voice hesitant and smaller as she frowned with self-disappointment, yearning to tell him anything once again, “Uh huh. I’m certain.”
Lies. When will you stop lying to yourself, Y/n? You speak as if anyone would read your mind if you’re quiet enough, but that’s not how a conversation works. That’s not how relationships work.
“If you say so.” Enjin sighed inaudibly.
Once the blond stopped at the door, he didn’t miss how Y/n bumped right into his back with a soft thud from the sudden abruptness. There was a faint buzzing which vibrated against Y/n’s feet that she noticed, adjusting her stance to stand up straight. The vibrations ceased behind the metal heavy doors in front of the pair. Her eyes peeked over Enjin’s shoulder, noticing a sign that was bent over in the process of falling off the wall which Enjin didn’t acknowledge. Carefully, he opens the door without knocking like any sane person would.
The two peaked inside the room and watched a man hunched over at a desk, noisily working on a project while blaring music from his speakers. His loud and scratchy voice filled the air along with the clanking of metal against metal. The floor was covered with papers and stray materials haphazardly thrown across the ground, turning the entire room into an obstacle course of designs and dreams. Two lamps illuminated the room from the desk the man sat by which Y/n recognised immediately from the passionate and horribly tune-deaf singing along with long pale hair.
The man didn’t seem to take notice until Y/n had accidentally tripped on her own foot from leaning too far, landing on the piles of papers with designs of uniforms intricately drawn onto them. The sudden collision caught his attention and he whipped his head back, thick brows furrowed and eyes hidden behind orange shades.
“WHO’S THERE?! GET OUT! CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I’M WORKING RIGHT NOW?!” His voice boomed, making both Y/n and Enjin wince at the sound. The man stood up from his seat and hurriedly took large steps towards them while walking over the materials and papers, “WAIT A MINUTE, WHO ARE YOU?! I FEEL LIKE I’VE SEEN YA SOMEWHERE BEFORE!”
Y/n’s shoulders tensed as the man grabbed her by her upper arms, gloved hands easily wrapping around her as he dragged her to stand up. His face leaned awfully close to hers as she held her breath, feeling his nose brush against hers without any care of spatial awareness. Just as she remembered.
“Y/N?! IS THAT YOU, DEAR Y/N?! I RECOGNISE THOSE EYE BAGS ANYWHERE!” He beamed, shaking her with intense enthusiasm while grinning ear to ear. “I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN AAAAGES! I HAVEN’T HAD ANYONE TO FILL IN YOUR ROLE SO I WAS WAITING FOR YOU TO COME BACK! HURRY UP! I NEED YOU TO WEAR SOMETHING I MADE! I GOTTA SEE IF MY GENIUS INVENTION WORKED AGAIN!”
Y/n gulped thickly, eyes slowly drifting back to Enjin’s awkward deadpan with her brows furrowed and eyes squinting as if she were about to cry. Enjin could almost hear her voice internally, crying out ‘Get me out of here!!’ yet he made no move to move from his position.
“H…Hi August…” Y/n muttered timidly with an intimidated shaky smile.
August continued to yap about his latest inventions that he was proud of as well as his complaints about some projects not lasting longer than he had hoped for, words going in one ear and out the other too quickly to be processed. Y/n could feel her ears ringing and for a second, she had thought she went deaf from his shouting despite their close proximity. Enjin finally decided to interrupt the one-sided conversation, grabbing the scruff of August’s collar and dragging him off the poor girl.
“Alright, that’s enough about that, August. We came here to get Y/n’s uniform. You’ve finished it, haven’t you?” Enjin looks down at August with a raised brow.
“OF COURSE I HAVE! WHEN I FOUND OUT THAT SHE WAS COMING BACK, I IMMEDIATELY DITCHED ALL OF MY CURRENT PROJECTS TO WORK ON HERS AGAIN!”
August immediately rushed off to a dark corner of the room hidden behind a mass pile of paper material, loud rustling and shuffling being heard along with his mutters that were addressed to himself rather than his audience. Finally, August stumbled back out holding a neatly folded pair of clothes and a bright grin on his face.
“TADA!! HERE YOU GO, Y/N—YOUR NEWEST UNIFORM! I COMPLETELY CHANGED THE DESIGN FROM YOUR OLD ONE AFTER EISHA TOLD ME THAT YOU HATED IT!”
“Wha- I never said I hated it, August.” Y/n’s cheeks heated up with embarrassment as she frowned from guilt, “I just said that I didn’t like how short the skirt was…”
“OH, RIGHT! HURRY UP AND GO CHANGE! I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOUR REACTION! DO YOU LIKE IT? DO YOU LIKE IT? IT’S MUCH BETTER THAN THE LAST, RIGHT?!”
“Calm down, August. The poor girl hasn’t even gotten the chance to wear it yet.” Enjin dragged his hand down his face while leaning against a wall, the other hand guiding Y/n’s lower back to go ahead and get changed elsewhere.
“THAT’S NOT MY FAULT SHE’S TOO SLOW! HURRY UP! I CAN HARDLY WAIT!!”
The minutes passed by quickly as Y/n had finished changing, completely contrasting her old uniform. Y/n stood in front of a full-body mirror, adjusting the oversized company jacket which dwarfed her. Reluctantly, she turned side to side and watched the long pleated skirt dance around her ankles like grey clouds that bled into a dark crimson.
Suddenly, the door of the changing room slammed open which made Y/n jump with a small “Eep!”, quickly turning around to see August with his hands clasped together beside his cheek and a bright grin of adoration painted on his cheeks. Enjin followed, grabbing August out with a concern and look of shock of his own before his eyes darted towards Y/n’s flustered face.
“HAVE YOU FINISHED CHANGING YET?! YOU’RE TAKING SO LONG!”
“Calm down, you shouldn’t barge in like that!”
Y/n looked at the two taller men with widened eyes, no longer tired after being scared awake from the sudden jumpscare.
“GIVE US A TWIRL, Y/N!” August drew a hurried circle in the air while leaning close.
“Huh? Okay…”
With a shy spin, Y/n twirled for them and let the flowy skirt float in the air before gracefully landing by her feet again. Her jacket slipped off one shoulder, revealing a burgundy ribbed shirt that reached her wrists. It was accessorised with a small badge of a messily designed bunny which sat on her collar, whereas above her right breast was a miniature cushion of a pink bunny Y/n quickly recognised from a series she had read. Her black combat boots were the same as anyone else’s, except by the ankles were embroidered flowers in dark hues of claret and maroon; the flowers were shrouded in the shadows of her skirt—barely visible, yet still there like a silent reminder of her everlasting internal beauty.
August ushered over, fixing the jacket and tugging it over her shoulders properly while patting her down and adjusting the collar of her shirt. His gloved hands moved to her waist, adjusting the leather belt with the metal empty heart that sat against her stomach.
“Maybe if I just… Hmm, the jacket covers everything though… Might need to fix it.. Did I get the sizes wrong? Maybe I should’ve gone with a different design afterall…” He muttered under his breath, words blurring together as he was lost in thought.
Y/n looked up at him with shock and shook her head quickly, “It’s completely fine.”
August frowned, inspecting her passive expression. But the frown soon faded away and was replaced with the signature bright grin he’d always wear.
“RIGHT?! I THOUGHT SO! THE JACKET EVEN COMES WITH INSIDE POCKETS FOR YOUR JINKI! I’M A GENIUS, RIGHT?”
The girl nodded along, listening to him rant about the uniform. Made from recycled fabrics he had lying around, August made sure to completely change the entire design of Y/n’s old uniform to a version more modest and comfortable for her. In terms of fighting ability, he made sure the fabric for the skirt was a lightweight material that could easily fly around. The shirt was a long-sleeve as well, after Eisha had told him that Y/n preferred them over short-sleeves during an interaction at her medic bay. Furthermore, Y/n was especially fond of the numerous pockets available on her jacket and skirt; and knowing that she could wear her pyjama pants underneath the skirt only made the situation better.
It completely contrasted her first uniform when she had only joined the Cleaners. August completely misread and perceived her so wrongly which rarely ever occurred except for her, designing a uniform much too pleasing for Y/n’s liking. There was no problem with it at all. If anything, it was Y/n’s fault for not having the confidence to wear such a bold statement that she was with the Cleaners. A leather short skirt and a black midriff along with dark stockings and knee-high boots with a fitted jacket. What was supposed to send out a message that Y/n could slay trash beasts while also slaying in her fit only lowered her confidence and worsened her anxiety.
But it was years before August could fully understand her and her preferences, even if it was by a little. The flowers by her feet was a symbol of his devotion as an artisan who tried his utmost best to see past the shell of others and deep inside a person’s inner self; because to be seen, means to be loved. And August appreciated the Cleaners deeply for allowing him to use his passion in this field. The days he spent procrastinating on other projects were used to design possible outcomes for a uniform Y/n would absolutely like, and he hoped that it would be worth it.
“SO?! HOW DO YOU FEEL?! IT’S GORGEOUS, RIGHT?!”
Y/n looked down at her shoes before back at him, her lips tugging at a small smile at the chocolate cosmos blossoming on her ankles. “Thank you, August. You worked very hard.”
Immediately, August goes silent and stares at the woman with his jaw theatrically dropping. Enjin had to wave his hand in front of his shocked expression, watching the glasses almost slide down the bridge of his nose until he snapped out of it.
“Uh… I think you killed him, Y/n.” Enjin pressed his lips into a flat line.
Y/n looked up at Enjin with horror, eyes widening and jaw dropping on her own for a second until she frowned in concern. “He’s breathing still… I don’t think we should joke about—”
“Y/N PRAISED ME! SHE SAID I WORKED VERY HARD! DID YOU HEAR THAT ENJIN?! SHE SAID SHE LOVES IT! IT’S WAAAAY BETTER THAN THE LAST! OF COURSE IT IS! YOU’RE VERY WELCOME, Y/N!”
The woman jumped back, being startled by August’s sudden exclamation. He was more vibrant this time—even more than how she remembered last time. Except the last time she never made the effort to talk to August because his bizarre personality was one that only special people were compatible with. Clearly not her. Yet seeing him so openly joyous made something warm up in her chest, almost like an embrace you’d receive after seeing someone after a long departure. Because to August, Y/n didn’t just like it—she loved it, and that small thanks he received was all the recognition he needed for his artisan heart.
Y/n gathered her old clothes and waved August goodbye, walking alongside Enjin back to her room since he couldn’t trust her to go alone. Now she just had to wait for her full face mask to be completed which was delayed due to plenty of other orders coming through. Yet the wait wouldn’t be too long she had hoped because sooner or later she’d return to the battlefields and fight once again. And hopefully this time, she wouldn’t run away again.
「At the corner of an oak desk, a folder lies beneath a pile of numerous reports and LL magazines. It hides away, surrounded by other files yet still remains alone. Its contents are crumpled, and there are some information that have been erased or scribbled out—mostly scribbled out—by an unknown figure who finds herself hiding stealthily behind a nearby wall, burgundy pen in her hand.」
~~~
SEMIU'S CLEANER FILES
GENERAL
NAME: Y/N L/N
OCCUPATION: Part-Time Cleaner Full-Time Cleaner
AGE: 22
HEIGHT: 158cm
BIRTH: [REDACTED]
GENDER: FEMALE AT BIRTH
FAVOURITE: reading, writing, quiet places, money
PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION: A quiet and very timid woman . Chatty when in small crowds but low social battery. Melancholic and phlegmatic temperament. Easily flustered and often hostile towards people she is uncomfortable with. Somewhat considerate and thoughtful, yet can be selfish when it comes to her wants and needs. Low social battery. Very anxious and overthinks everything. Struggles with communication. Yet to be observed.
VITAL INSTRUMENT/S
JINKI NAME: 神恵 (シンケイ) → Divine Blessing (SHIKI for short)
JINKI OBJECT: Fountain Pen
JINKI AFFILIATION: Offense
JINKI APPEARANCE: [BEFORE ACTIVATION] A burgundy metallic fountain pen with dull gold accentuates and a black grip made of rubber. On the underside of the pen says a message in white cursive calligraphy; "May the light in your soul become the salvation our world needs"
[AFTER ACTIVATION] [THIS INFORMATION HAS BEEN DELETED.]
JINKI ABILITIES: [THIS INFORMATION HAS BEEN DELETED.]
JINKI TECHNIQUE: [Pilum-pronounced PIE-LUHM] A strong move that is best used for long-range and beasts which takes up a lot of energy. [THIS INFORMATION HAS BEEN DELETED.]
JINKI NAME: 恵天界 (ケイテンカ) → Heavenly Blessings (KEITEN for short)
JINKI OBJECT: Old Journal
JINKI AFFILIATION: Offense-Defence (3:7)
JINKI APPEARANCE: A leather (f/c) book with a large treble clef in a darker shade at the centre of the front cover. Its papers have aged through time, oxidising into an ashened colour of brown and yellow and is held together by a light (f/c) binder. Its contents remain unknown except towards the owner. Contains drawings, images, and numerous excerpts of Y/n's own reflection.
JINKI ABILITIES: By using her memories, she uses her five senses to replicate that experience into becoming a reality. [THIS INFORMATION HAS BEEN DELETED] This mostly works for defense.
[THIS INFORMATION HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY DELETED.]
JINKI TECHNIQUE: [THIS INFORMATION HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY DELETED.]
AUGUST'S FASHION SHOW
~~~
a/n: an angel dies whenever someone writes a dialogue that's completely ooc (me). sorry for harming anyone's eyes with these ugly doodles. i'm just a lantern that wants to write.
LANTERNDEX: Refer to character profile above.
1) Y/n L/n full body pic
2) combat boots w embroidered chocolate cosmos
3) bunny badge
4) mokke (tbhk ref)
5) kazutora earring heh
6) journal jinki
7) beloved fountain pen
8) beloved fountain pen activated as a weapon
This post contains the cover for "Dream Lantern" and all the chapters available. A warning sign [⚠︎] will be located at any designated chapter for content that may contain sensitive or triggering topics. Proceed with care or return to "LANTERN-WRITES" :)
ᯓ➤ CW: suicidal reader, semi NSFW, fluff, angst, actually mostly a crackfic under the guise of angst, adult reader, third pov, good and bad endings maybe idk we'll see
You were never one to reach out to others or to blur the boundaries between your personal and work life. For years, you've balanced both lifestyles while also keeping another identity a secret-being a (somewhat) famous novelist.
Your words captured the hearts of your readers, but exhaustion became inevitable and so your journal and pen became a tombstone for the death of your creativity and past self. It was only natural that you quietly withdrew from the Cleaners and everyone else without hesitation.
Once anxiety became the perpetrator of your own demise, your luck had ran out and you were evicted from your shitty apartment. But what was viewed as bad luck could be seen as new opportunities in different perspectives, and returning to the Cleaners was your only way to get your life back together. Or so you'd hoped.
Maybe some fates were just destined to never have their happy endings after all, right?
Cover Created By Lantern (22)
❝𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞.❞
~~~
Contents
Prologue — The Death Of A Dying Star
Chapter One — Peek-A-Boo, Welcome Back!
Chapter Two — Lights, Camera, Action!
Chapter Three — Dreaming of a Bittersweet Reunion
Chapter Four — Counting Empty Glasses Till I Can Say "I Loved You"
Night I — Chapter Unavailable!
Chapter Five — Church Of Y/n L/n; Worshipper Of One
summary: loser reader quit her job coz she fell off the stairs and achieves the legendary hobo rank on LoL. mentions of semiu's gooner hobbies. not proofread and poorly written in my eyes. please read previous chapter here! (wc: 5892)
note: just an introductory chapter ig. title is kinda cringing me out but what is done has been done.
HISTORY HAS NARRATED FAIRYTALES OF CANVAS SKIES once painted in various breathtaking warm shades of cerulean and red, yet time has become a living gravestone which has stolen beauty until all that was left was near-exstinction by our doors. Now the horizon is filled with monochromatic hues of exhausted clouds floating by slowly, counting the seconds since the past walked towards a waking hell known as today.
Rivulets of ashened smoke bled into the dull sky along with the bustling chatters of people and cars, kicking up clouds of brown from the dirt ground. Small flickers of ash fluttered to the floor, coming from the embers of a lit cigarette—a distraction to erase unnecessary thoughts. With the spicy taste of tobacco being welcomed in burning lungs, its drug became a warm embrace that healed better than medicinal remedies and rest.
In front of the run-down apartment, a tall man leaned against his SUV, a cigarette between his lips. His blond hair was flamboyantly spiked, unwavering against the light breeze brushing against his dimpled cheeks. Golden eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses scanned across the city, although used for an entirely different purpose which is to ogle passing escorts in their revealing and flimsy dresses. His arms were crossed as he sighed heavily, time dragging dreadfully longer and making his thick arched brows furrow deeper. Black and red ink creeped up around his neck where a red choker wrapped around his throat, peeking behind the loose crimson top hanging off his muscular torso along with the light-grey coat he wore. Obsidian painted fingernails tapped impatiently against his elbow as he fixed his grip around the handle of his large umbrella.
“What’s taking her so long?” His voice rumbled from his chest with a click of his tongue, grumbling low like a soft purr of an engine.
It was awfully bright outside today, and not because the sun was eclipsed by the clouds yet again. The golden star despised people of the Ground, dreading the culture of depravities that exist among its people. After centuries of being forsaken, light forgot its true meaning and became a man-made creation found in flickering neon lights and torches that filled up lonely nights and cloudy days. If there was nobody to guide people, then the people would lead themselves even when afraid.
Like moths to a flame, the same light that warms you is the same light that has potential to burn you. What better way to blame your own death besides yourself? The red-light district was full of blazing lights that allured even the loneliest souls to destruction. Once death has lost meaning, it metamorphosed into a pathway carved from our own failures. In reality, we were never meant to rely on anyone but ourselves because hell became a home filled with neon lights and the devils found in our own reflections.
At the last flicker of his cigarette, a short woman left the building with a large box in her arms, her face hidden behind the heavy object. Her long skirt fluttered around her ankles with every cautious yet wobbly step she took closer to him, e/c eyes peeking the slightest bit as a map to guide her. The man watched with raised brows, stomping the cigarette quickly as he reached out to help her hold the package as she wobbled to him. Suddenly, with a trip of her own skirt, the box slips out of her struggling hands and is roughly shoved into his chest. With a low grunt, the man catches the heavy object with his hands as the woman uses his chest as a sturdy stone-like cushion to soften her fall.
“Woah, watch your step!” He lifts the box above her head as he looks down at her, sunglasses slipping down his nose so he could take a closer inspection of her face. “Are you alright, Y/n?”
Wide e/c eyes stared right back at him with recognition, rose hues dusted against her soft cheeks. A flood of memories rushed into her mind at the man standing before her who had mentored her plenty of years before she took her first sip of adulthood. Strands of h/c brushed against her forehead as she quickly stood up and patted her skirt down. Dark crescent moons adorned below her weary yet surprised gaze she had for him, as if the night became periods of waning existence rather than peaceful slumber. With a quick nod, she fixed her slouched posture and gripped the fabric by her thighs for composure, the colour in her face fading away immediately.
“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other. You’re still as clumsy as ever, huh?” He grinned, dimpled cheeks stretching as he scanned her face. “I’ll put these in the trunk while you head inside.”
It was hard to not notice how her shoulders raised with a small turn of her head, hiding in on herself as her hands opened and closed. He knew it’s been a while—a long while, actually. A lot can happen during six whole months, so he couldn’t help but worry about the eyebags on her face that only looked darker than before. Yet with a smile, he carried the box inside the car.
With a cautious hand gripping the strand of her bag, the other held onto the grab handle as Y/n climbed inside. Her heart was thumping quickly as she took a deep breath, the smell of tobacco, Enjin’s cologne, but mostly trash filling her nose which made her face scrunch. The seatbelt wrapped around her as the man came over to sit in his seat, slamming the door with a loud thud.
Y/n looked up at him, eyes glued to the familiar emblem on his coat as he started the car, “Thank you for picking me up, Enjin. I appreciate it a lot.”
Enjin looked back at her, caught slightly off guard from how her voice was more muted and softer than he remembered, and even a hint more croaky. Y/n was always the type to avoid talking as much as possible; her empty throat was proof of her avoidance which juxtaposed his own accessorised throat. Chokers were powerful communication devices that allowed others to connect with each other, yet Y/n never got her hands on one even if offered. There was a small letter that peeked from the side of her bag—the letter with the Cleaner’s emblem which he belonged to. Letters were traditional methods that were often rare, but never impossible. It was her bare maximum because she dreaded the feeling of loneliness while simultaneously cherishing her own time alone.
“You’re welcome,” He drove by the numerous colourful buildings, “Although you did make me wait when I told you I’d be arriving ten minutes early. But seriously though, falling for me the moment you see me again? Haha! Classic Y/n move.”
“Hey!” Y/n frowned, hitting his bicep with a clenched fist. “I did not fall for you. I merely tripped on my own foot so stop praising yourself like that, you arrogant jerk.”
“Hey, hey, I’m drivin’ here so watch it! Sheesh, still as feisty as ever…”
Enjin snickered while rolling his eyes as he sped up, the sight of the buildings lessening until all that was left was an open dirt road. The woman beside him sighed harshly while sinking back into her seat, staring outside the window. The slight furrow of her brows made her seem agitated, yet the small bite of her lower lip and the way her eyes softened at the scenery outside suggested otherwise; a look of guilt and regret in one expression. Perhaps she was a tad too comfortable around Enjin that she almost forgot about her unannounced hiatus from action. There was a shift in energy around the man that made her sense that something inside of him had changed—or rather, there was an exterior force which had changed him. Like a new friend, or new… No, forget it. A lot can change in half a year. It didn’t help that the departure was making her anxiety grow stronger, like black tendrils curling around her chest and squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. Was she even breathing right now? Y/n immediately took a deep breath at the realization that she had forgotten how to breathe properly, yet let out a small huff at the car’s mixed stench.
Enjin stole a glance at her after noticing the exhausted small frown on her face. Usually there would always be a glimmer of light that shined brighter than the sun in any pair of eyes. It was an obvious sign that somebody is alive—that they’re here in this world with him. He’s found it in so many people including in the mirror, yet Y/n’s eyes no longer held a place for them anymore. It reminded him of a book he found in the library months ago about a world higher than the Sphere; a galactic world where stars and other planets exist. He found something similar in her eyes. A pair of e/c coloured nebulas that recreate life after the death of a dying star. Well, he used to find beauty in her eyes until she became more of a zombie rather than human. There was a small feeling in his chest that hoped she would relearn living again.
He cleared his throat and tapped his finger against the steering wheel to wash away the thoughts, “I’m surprised you could live in such a crappy place like that. Were you hiding here the entire time? Never really expected you to indulge in that typa lifestyle… Of living right next to a brothel of all places, I’m sayin’.”
“It’s not like I wanted to in the first place.” Y/n muttered softly under her breath, “It was the cheapest.”
“Yeah, living is pretty expensive. But that’s why the HQ offers rooms for us Cleaners. You never should’ve moved out in the first place. You look like you haven’t eaten in a week!”
There was a lull in the car apart from the running engine. Enjin looked back at Y/n with a furrow in his brows, one hand immediately reaching out to wave in front of her face at the distant gaze in her face.
“Stop zoning out on me, damn it. You are one of us, right? Why else would you have written that letter for?”
Y/n sighed quietly and lowered her head while rubbing her thumb across the fabric of her skirt, “I thought I resigned. Didn’t Mister Corvus read my letter?”
“Didn’t you read his letters? Or mine?” Enjin let out an irritated sigh as he ran one hand back through his hair, “No wonder you were late today. Y’know I hate writing, don’t you? I only do so much for you ‘cause I know your head’s not right, so stop ignoring me like that.”
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to avoid your letters. I moved a while after you sent me that last letter about Riyo and Zanka having that competition… What did Mister Corvus say?”
Enjin’s frown softened as he shifted gears, “He didn’t accept your resignation. And I’m fuckin’ glad that he did. Who the hell writes “Dear HQ, I’m quitting ‘cause I nearly fell down the stairs while running into the night.” Like what the actual fuck is that even supposed to mean?! Were you drunk when you wrote that?”
Immediately, Y/n goes silent again as her hands clenched into tight fists. Her fingernails dug into her palm as her brows furrowed deeply, a sharp thorn blooming in her throat that made her struggle to form any response. Enjin’s rant stuttered the slightest after seeing her close up again. Shit, he didn’t mean anything bad like that.
“Look, I’m sorry, Y/n. I was just really confused why you would send that and never contact us again. Everyone’s worried about you… The kids, Semiu, Bro, and even some of the Supporters! So don’t go thinking that we don’t care about you and—”
KKRRRKKKK! KRRKKKK! KRRK! KKKRR—
“Speak of the devil…” Enjin reached for his choker and clicked on a button, “Hey, Semiu?”
“Hey, did you pick Y/n up?”
Y/n immediately tensed up and sat up straight, eyes flickering to Enjin’s choker as he spoke nonchalantly. She recognised that mellowy and silky voice anywhere and it made her heart flip so much it nearly leapt out of her throat. Enjin glanced at her, a smug tugging at his lips.
“Yep! She’s right here. Wanna say hi?”
Y/n shook her head fervently to Enjin, pressing an index finger to her lips to tell him to be quiet. Her brows furrowed with panic as she reached for the car door but it was locked. Enjin let out a bemused huff of air, entertained from Y/n’s flustered demeanour. He could tell that she was holding back from cussing him out. Was she reckless enough to jump out of a moving vehicle?
“It's fine. I can imagine her panicking right now. Tell her she doesn't need to worry about anything and focus on coming back to HQ safely, alright? I don't want any precious cargo getting damaged. I'll see you guys around.” Semiu sighed and hung up.
Enjin laughed proudly, “Are you that socially awkward you can’t even hold a conversation with anyone anymore? Man, it was always so funny watching you panic but I didn’t think it would get this bad!”
The two continued on with their journey as Enjin turned the radio on, his favourite songs from Too Lily playing loudly so he cranked the volume up. No matter the circumstance, listening to music was a hobby he always enjoyed with others or independently. But he especially liked to sing along to Too Lily’s songs in the shower after a long day of work, obviously getting the lyrics completely right just like the devout fan he is. Sure, he’s a little off-tune but let a man live! Music especially became a shared hobby when introduced Y/n to Too Lily’s songs. So the moment he turned his head to her while singing proudly, the slight crack in his voice was barely noticeable yet the falter in his smile did.
“Dude, have you not eaten?” He deadpanned.
Y/n crossed her arms tightly and hunched an inch to stop the obnoxiously loud grumbling in her stomach, “I did… A while ago.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me! That’s probably hours ago. Or even days because it’s you we’re talkin’ about!”
Enjin let out a small groan before sighing in resignation, making a sharp U-turn to go to the closest stop. “Welp, I guess we gotta make a change of plans then. Food express, here we come.”
The car stopped in front of a large metal gate that opened up on its own. Y/n’s heart was thumping so loudly she could almost feel it trying to jump out of her throat and make an embarrassment of herself. The headquarters was just as large as she could remember, and if not, maybe even bigger. It loomed over her as she hesitantly walked behind Enjin like a cockroach following a sweet trap. The building was more packed with people as well, men and women, boys and girls in light grey clothes with the Cleaner's logo on their back.
At the reception, a tall woman with her legs crossed over was reading a magazine, her slender frame hidden behind the desk piled up with mountains of paper. Her yellow eyes appeared golden under the warm lighting in the room—serious and heavily fixated upon the images she savoured of models posing in bikinis in erotic poses. Her short white hair tinged with the lightest blush of pink only reminded Y/n of the fluffy texture she felt from running her fingers through them. Suddenly, yellow eyes glance up at her, hidden behind glass frames.
“You're finally back.” A smile tugged at Semiu’s glossy lips as she put her erotic magazines away, walking around the table with her arms crossed as she stopped in front of both Enjin and Y/n. Her eyes glowed gold as she bent down to Y/n’s height, patting her head softly with a warm smile, “It's been a while, Y/n. We've missed you.”
At her words, a guilty frown faded onto Y/n’s face as she looked away with a small nod.
“Still as quiet as ever, huh. That's alright. Your facial expressions tell me enough already.” Semiu stood back up and looked at Enjin with that same nonchalance which made her so admirable, “You guys sure took your time. Where have you been?”
Enjin glanced down at Y/n who was clutching her bag tightly while watching Supporters walk past. With a scratch at the back of his neck, he replied with an unbothered tone, “We went to get a quick meal somewhere since Y/n hasn’t eaten a proper meal in ages, but she spent half an hour in the toilet afterwards. Might need to check if she’s lactose intolerant or something.”
Semiu looked at Y/n who had her arms protecting her stomach and the slight glisten sweating down her neck. Her face was pale and her lips were very dry. Not to mention, she noticed the dehydrated tired look in Y/n’s reddened eyes was slightly alarming.
“Surely that wasn’t the only thing you had to do.”
Enjin looked down at Y/n with curiosity, wondering what Semiu was discerning which he didn’t catch. “Yep, we made some quick stops to a bookshop to deliver some stuff on Y/n’s request. Did I miss anything?”
Y/n shook her head and quietly mumbled, “No. Sorry for taking so long, Semiu.”
With a shake of her head, Semiu walked back to her desk and sat down. Her hands clasp together as she leaned on the desk with her elbows, her yellow eyes glowing a rich colour of gold.
“You’re fine. Now let me see your true colours, Y/n.”
“Again? But you’ve already…” Y/n frowned nervously, hiding behind Enjin again but he held a firm hand behind the small of her back with a shake of his head. “Fine…”
It was like this the first time Semiu had laid her eyes on the girl, reminiscing of a time where Y/n was younger yet no less shorter. Y/n would hide behind any figure that was nearby, but not for a reason that could potentially damage her reputation. She was just afraid that deep down, maybe Semiu secretly had mind reading abilities. Despite countless of times Semiu had denied her, Y/n would always shy away from her special powers. That only made Semiu more curious about what goes on in the girls’ mind.
Y/n stayed very still as her breath hitched, worry eating at her mind as she worried about why Semiu was taking longer than usual. Enjin had noticed it, too, brows furrowing as he watched the receptionist frown. Finally, Semiu sat up and sighed with relief.
“You’ve changed.”
Y/n tilted her head in confusion, “Wha…?”
“It’s not a bad thing so don’t worry,” Semiu smiled softly. “I took a while longer because I was struggling to see into your inner self. She keeps hiding from me.”
Enjin scratched the nape of his neck, “So… What’s the verdict?”
“She’s fine to join us again. But the question is which team she’s joining and if she’s certain that she wants to work full-time now.”
Y/n looked down at her shoes, deep in contemplation. There were various branches of the Cleaner’s here at HQ that all individually specialise in different aspects and fields that accommodate each Cleaner’s strengths and weaknesses. Her understanding and knowledge about the different teams were limited due to her skipping work numerous times in the past. What she remembered was that there was Team Akuta, Team Eager, Team Front, Team Beauty, Team Child, and Team Danger. What she knows is that she wouldn’t join a team so long as she doesn’t recognise anyone because her social anxiety would bleed her to death.
She worked as a Cleaner part-time only, so there was so much she could learn and know. Part-timers were for people who struggled with commitment and dedication just like her. Yet she couldn’t afford to keep her hours so short because with time, the cost of living rises, too. And balancing two—no, three—different lifestyles was a challenge that she had failed to juggle, hence why she was here: to dedicate herself to one lifestyle.
Not forever, though. There will always be a goodbye after an adventure.
Enjin loomed over Semiu’s desks as the receptionist searched through the files of enrollments, “Her jinki is pretty unique and can be deadly if she learns to polish her skills more. But I’m not sure if she’d work well in a team since she would go on missions alone sometimes. Maybe Team Danger could be—”
“But we’re not sure if she’s been active in the attacking field so it might be too dangerous for her. It’s been half a year afterall. Team Child and Beauty are out of the picture and so is Front…”
“I’d like to join Team Akuta!” Y/n blurted out, eyes shut tightly to avoid seeing their reactions, clenching her fists tightly. “...P-Please…”
Semiu looked up at the girl with widened eyes before glancing back at Enjin. After organising all the files back in their respective folders, she smiled at her.
“Before that, you should know that we have a new member that’s also joining us. He’s not officially with us yet, but he’s a trainee, so I hope you can lead a good example for him.” Semiu’s tone hardened with seriousness.
“We have a fallen Spherite joining the Cleaners.”
Immediately, Y/n’s eyes widened and felt a flicker of excitement in her chest start to grow in the garden of her heart which she believed to have rotten.
Enjin let out an amused breathless chuckle, pleased to see her reaction. “I mentioned that as well in my letter. You could’ve joined earlier if you’d just read them. His name is Rudo and I’m taking him under my team. You should be proud of Zanka—I made him his mentor.”
“You might have to retrain her again. But hopefully her skills are still good. Have you been fighting trash beasts lately, Y/n?” Semiu asked.
Y/n squinted her eyes, wondering herself if she’s been active. But the most she could ever remember was the blank ceiling of her apartment and the lonely nights spent alone with lukewarm coffee. With a small shrug and shake of her head, Enjin sighed but not with disappointment, but more of a “I knew it” sort of sigh.
“Riyo took the kid out on a mission so they won’t be back until later, but it’d be good to get them to help train you even if you’re a bit older than them. I won’t be able to mentor you again since you’re not a newbie anymore, but more of a returning member, and I’ve got things to do so…” Enjin rubbed his temples as he tried to figure out a fool-proof plan. “I’ll have you practice sparring with the other members maybe. I’m thinking Tamsy or anyone who’s willing.”
With an approving nod of her head, Semiu glanced between the two of them and scribbled something in her notes. “Then we have it settled. I won’t hold you guys any longer so I’m leaving Y/n up to you, Enjin. Take good care of her.”
“I will. Thanks again, Semiu!”
With a turn of their backs, Enjin and Y/n began to make their way to their next destination together. Until, Semiu’s voice rang out again.
“Oh, yeah, and one more thing!” She called out, making the pair turn their heads back at her. “Let’s go on that date someday, Y/n.”
Y/n’s eyes widened as her cheeks flushed just the slightest until Semiu threw something her way. Quickly catching it although clumsily in her hands, she held a protein bar she would always eat back when she struggled to keep anything in her stomach. Semiu must’ve figured out about her unsteady relationship between her and food. Y/n could feel Enjin looming over her shoulder, curious to see what she had received and why he didn’t get anything for himself, so she tucked the food in her bag.
“Someday indeed. Thank you.” Y/n politely nodded her head in acknowledgement before turning forward once again to continue her journey along with Enjin.
As Enjin led Y/n to her new room, he kept stealing curious glances at the smaller woman. It was pretty obvious that Y/n swung both ways, but he didn’t expect that Semiu would be interested in Y/n of all people. The girl was too quiet and almost too timid at times. Additionally, she could be intense with her words if you manage to get her to speak and that intimidated him often. ‘Women can be so serious sometimes’, he’d think. And with all the erotic magazines of hot women in lace push-ups or sheer lingerie that allowed anyone to let their imagination run freely, he definitely didn’t expect Semiu to go for someone who always covered herself in jackets or hoodies and long skirts that made her look almost…
“...Like a hobo…” He muttered under his breath.
Y/n looked up at him with surprise which morphed into offense and annoyance. With an irritated huff, she kicked the back of Enjin’s knees swiftly which made him stumble and crouch down to her height with a yelp of shock. If he was so jealous that she received a protein bar and he didn’t, then she’d give it to him anytime! She was no hobo. Well, maybe he was right. She was kicked out of her old apartment because she couldn’t pay rent on time anymore and needed a place to stay which summarised why she even reached out to him in the first place.
“Hmph… Stupid jerk.” She scoffed quietly under her breath, shoving the protein bar in the pocket of his coat.
Enjin smiled awkwardly and hurried after her with long strides, “That’s not what I meant! I was kidding! You’re not a hobo at all.”
“Shut up already…”
The taller man sighed in defeat, “Fine… Y’know I didn’t mean it though. So it’s on you if you don’t believe me.”
Y/n’s room was located far away from all the other dorms which is why they had to walk a lot. The headquarters wasn’t exactly enormous from the outside, but it sure felt massive from inside. She was really lucky that her request was accepted; to have a room away from all disturbance, with disturbance meaning people. There was no problem to people living their lives, but she had days where she would need full isolation without any interruption. The worse she felt, the longer those days turned to weeks depending on her wellbeing.
“They tried to look for a new room where you could stay in, but your request made it hard since HQ tries to keep this place organised. We couldn’t just build another room ‘cause that takes a lot of time and money so we decided to use a spare room that hasn’t been used for a while.” Enjin climbed downstairs with Y/n following behind him, her footsteps carefully muted while his were audible thuds.
Finally, the two stopped at a sudden door just below the staircase to another floor. There was a metallic sign with a word spelled out, however patchy and missing more than a few letters. A few meters away was an identical door, but its steel sign was polished and albeit new with “STORAGE ROOM” written on it.
“Here we are. This is your new room from now on. If you got any issues, let Semiu know.”
Y/n reached out with the door knob which managed to open with a few small nudges, then pushed the door inside. A wave of dust flies into their faces as the two collectively cover their faces and coughed, airing the particles out of their way. Inside, they were met with pure darkness apart from a small window no bigger than a palm at the very back. There was barely any space for the both of them to fit in, so Enjin had to wait outside by the door. Y/n looked around frantically, using the brightness coming from the hallway to help her find the light inside the storage room. Until she walked into a thin thread with a bell-shaped aglet that hung from the ceiling. With a tug, the room was illuminated by a blinking small light bulb, allowing her to finally see what was inside. It was a really narrow room where the left and right walls had been conquered by tall shelves from the front to back.
“It looks kinda worse than I imagined. You sure you don’t want a normal room? There’s a spare near mine.” Enjin peeped inside, one arm on the doorway as he scanned the dusty room.
Y/n placed her bag by the shelves that were just beside the door, “It’s fine. I asked for this anyway…”
“Alright. I gotta get some things ready so I’m gonna head out. I’ll come back to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. Good luck cleaning your room.”
“Uh huh…”
Y/n looked around with a small frown tugging at her lips. There was no surprise that she wouldn’t get her own private bathroom like her old room for it was an old storage room. There was a communal washroom that was used by the Supporters which wasn’t too far from here from which she remembered, but her only issue was the flickering light that threatened to go out on her. She had no problem with dark places, but the dark was also a home for monsters to run freely. She’d have to be careful to reserve light energy but also make sure nothing sets on fire; using a lamp is out of the question. Furthermore, there was barely any space for her to write if she ever felt her spark come back.
This was going to be her new and temporary place of residence. It was a miracle that Corvus had accepted Y/n’s request to join the organisation despite never specifying why she disappeared or where she would spend her MIA days. She had expected getting fired or being sent letters full of anger and disappointment, although she expected the latter more often thus stopped reading her letters for a while. But in a world full of colours, Y/n was monochromatic in her shades of gloom and shuffled around in her little room. If she were to stay, the most comfortable place to sleep in would be in the back-right corner below the shelves. She could even ditch the planks off the bottom shelves and place a mattress there while using the spares as a miniature desk for her journal writing.
Yet her bag that stayed by the door stared back at her quietly, catastrophizing if she was really choosing to stay here in the very place she ran away from. Y/n stared right back at the bag, her fingers twitching as she hesitantly took a small step towards the object. Like a sailor to a siren, she felt herself being allured by the temptation to run away.
Again.
An upbeat yet low hum echoed against the hallways, floorboards creaking with every step Enjin took closer towards Y/n’s new room. The tune he was humming along to was, of course, his favourite song from Too Lily which is difficult to say because this man loved that singer so much his favourite songs change on a daily basis. Today, he was feeling more optimistic now that the future will be filled with more intriguing adventures. Let’s be honest, he has a goddamn Spherite working under his wing. And not to mention, his old mentee that disappeared half a year ago had reappeared in his life again. Enjin’s life was damn exciting now in his eyes. Maybe too exciting for his aging self.
The new packet of cigarettes rattled in his pocket as he rubbed his thumb across the lid, tempted to take one immediately. But he had to be patient because he had a feeling that he would need to save them whenever he was genuinely stressed out from a mission. Additionally, he would have to balance between taking care of all members of Akuta now. Was he a babysitter now? Hopefully not. With Y/n as an addition, he had hopes that she could lead a good example as one of the adults in the team.
His footsteps immediately faltered. Y/n? A good example? Enjin’s shoulders sank with a sigh as he stopped humming, taking out a cigarette and spinning it around between his tatted fingers. He couldn’t imagine Y/n as a good role model. The only memories he remembered at the top of his head was when she would hide from him for as long as possible to avoid going on a mission, or whenever she clocked in only in her pyjamas. August would whine for hours about how it was such a shame for Y/n to waste all his hard work and effort just to wear some loose f/c pants and a lousy hoodie stained with ink at the sleeves. No one got to see Y/n in her old uniform except for August, but whenever the topic was brought up, poor Auggie would quickly start sweating profusely and talk about how nice the floor looked. Enjin was a bit disappointed in the missed opportunity, but there was another recurring memory he would always keep in the back pocket of his mind.
Y/n would skip out on company dinners because she was a picky eater. The food here wasn’t even that bad! But Enjin knew that she skipped meals for another reason. Y/n was never good at communicating with others without suffering consequences to her social battery. Maybe that’s why she disappeared. Maybe not. Or maybe there was an entirely different reason that she’s hiding from him and he’ll have to pry it out of her one way or another.
“Hopefully she can open up to me this time before she disappears on me again.” Enjin murmured to himself as he climbed down the stairs.
It was a shame that jinx was a paradox that lingered above his left shoulder and heard him loud and clear. The door was left slightly ajar, the room unbearably dark excluding the small pane of external light. His heart was beating faster and it wasn’t from the excessive amounts of cigarettes he’s been smoking. Enjin looked down at the corner by his feet and noticed that her bag was gone—that she was gone.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” He crouched down with Umbreaker by his side, a groan of exasperation and worry leaving his lips. “Just when I found her, she goes missing on me again.”
a/n: today's chapter is inspired by 'Run Rabbit' by ALT BLK ERA and HIGHLY inspired by 'Charles - self cover' by balloon. i ate a yummy burger today and it was so good i went to heaven.
summary: lazy unemployed chud reader gets evicted and has no choice but to surrender to j*b propaganda. you're also in debt! (wc: 2089)
note: your jinkis are a journal and fountain pen. nothing special tbh. reader is around 22 years old currently. reader is depressed btw. view all chapters here.
THE WASTE NEVER STOPS. For a land inhabited by various races of humans, one would mistake their home for landfill. Beauty is never found in what leaves impurities in your palms. We were never meant to take pride in filth. Yet people have learnt how to adapt their lives around the rotting world—like parasites that are too stubborn to die out so they continuously multiply to let future generations suffer the consequences of today’s actions. We’re selfish beings who sell ourselves to temporary pleasures.
At the corner of the red light district where the meaning of filth has materialised into degenerates, a shabby apartment quietly lives between an alley and a drugstore. Beneath their supposed purposes as utilities, they reveal their true selves once night falls and become shelters for scum to forget all reason and shame, and destroying lives with illusive pills that were allegedly used for sickness. Pleasure becomes a short-lived experience, but the addiction is the epitome of destruction as for why it’s titled as a great sin. Great, but not for the right reasons. There’s a disgusting scent that comes from the apartment as it obnoxiously looms over the other buildings at three-stories tall. Smoke, sex, and trash—always trash.
It’s filthy and run-down, yet the residents that live inside like cockroaches have the perfect view of the city's deprivations. An ideal world for trash living amongst more trash. And the very room that could access the cacophonies of sin improvised so effortlessly was the centre of the top floor—the VIP’s golden seat. Just parasites hidden beneath layers of flesh, skin, and bones. The heavy scent of perfume is just as toxic as the filth in the air. It doesn’t hide that at the end of the day, we’re all low-lives in disguise who pathetically deceive everyone including ourselves.
The shrilling hiss of the boiling kettle pierced through the dim room. Light footsteps in mismatched socks padded through the wooden planks to fill up the mug sitting at the dining table. The small table was located directly in front of the glass panel, shrouded behind white see-through curtains yellowed with age. The mug; white porcelain with numerous cracks akin to rotting trees dwelled on as a reminder of fragility—a constant token of destruction caused through time, humanity’s greatest enemy after themselves. The warmth of coffee filled the dark air with its scent; a subtle way to erase all dwelling thoughts that lingered in a past long gone.
By the flickering rusted desk-lamp, a woman stood near the window with the steaming mug in her hands, nimble fingers wrapped around the porcelain and small callouses found on the side of both her middle fingers. The warmth left an uncomfortable burn which bloomed into her numbing skin, but was welcomed nonetheless. Her figure was eclipsed by her thick grey sweater and her ankle-length, shaggy, black skirt. Much similar to an exoskeleton of a hiding beetle that runs from people once it is found, protecting herself from the heavy weight of leering eyes sharper than needles. Like a pathetic coward. But no matter how much potential a bug can run, it won’t live long enough to taste the great fruits of living before it is stomped on, loud crunch and spilling intestines and all.
By then you will see how repulsive it is on the inside as it is on the outside and ask yourselves the difference between you and it. The answer is that there is none. To be looked at means to be seen, and there are too many merciless glares that would look at a living bug with so much disgust that their first thoughts are automatically “Kill it!”. You find killing machines in guns and tanks but don’t realise that the real killing machine was really our hatred and abuse of freewill.
That is to say unless the bug chooses to spend the rest of its living days hiding in the shadows where nobody will find it. But are you really living if you spend your last moments unseen, a ghost? There’s a fine line between surviving and living, yet you can always find the woman who drinks her coffee like fine wine dancing upon it to a waltz while hell rages loudly beneath her. Who is the real hypocrite here?
The room was fairly small, but big enough for all basic necessities such as a functioning kitchen and a bathroom without hot water. Aside from the table which was an heirloom belonging to its previous owners and the mug and rusting lamp, the room was empty. As if it was a living entity trying so hard to erase the evidence of a life that was once lived here. No. It didn’t try hard enough. There were numerous beige boxes which piled up like miniature mountains. Its contents were various collections of books and multiple copies that were signed, along with a large golden star stuck to the front cover of each novel just below the title’s name. That was enough proof to show that somebody had once lived; that she and all the other people who had once resided here before her.
H/c strands of hair brushed against her lashes as she lowered her gaze, focusing on the f/c journal before her, maroon fountain pen in her right hand which eclipsed fading and patchy white cursive text: “May the light in your soul become the salvation our world needs”. The journal was a reflection of her mind, filled with entries about her daily thoughts or ideas for a new novel. But as the weeks bleed into months, it was as if a flame inside her had been put out.
Flipping through the pages hurriedly, she looks for a white letter, numerous pieces of paper from receipts to photographs falling out. Memoirs of her quiet life that is slowly coming to an end. There wasn’t enough time left. He’ll be here any moment now. Another folded piece of paper falls out, slipping to the floor with a large crimson “NOTICE OF EVICTION” written in bold at the very top. It falls to her feet along with another letter slightly older and browned.
Every entry in her book was adorned with a photograph to commemorate the day, or an illustration drawn from her recollections. From the beginning, her handwriting was miniscule as if she were hiding her own thoughts from herself. Words that felt no soul, barely even writing about thoughts or memories but simply to just fill in the pages. But after every page-turn, the words start to join together. Neater and more elegant, something that distinguished her from others and herself. It was almost obnoxious—writing in such a way that made you feel as if you were superior based on your words alone. They hold so much power and manipulate the naive like child’s play, creating or retelling a new experience. Or perhaps even telling a story that is untrue. Your source becomes the writer and the writer becomes your source. Whatever that is said, you can only decide when to trust somebody based on how they manipulate their words. A lot can be told alone from reading.
But with time, the words began to look a lot more like thin worms of black ink wriggling on paper. Slanted and barely put together, but still words. Words that were hardly even legible to the public—anyone but her, of course. There’s meaning in everything. There’s meaning in silence and there’s meaning from the way one might do in their daily routine. The squiggles become more and more messier, tangled, words blacked out with sharp clouds of scribbles as if she were running out of time. In a way, she was.
And in a way, she had.
Now all that was left were blank pages after page, canvases ready to be given an ounce of life that came from her burdened soul until finally it would be complete. Alas, it will never reach that stage with the creativity she had lost—the death of an artist. Or rather, the death of a God. Worlds built from words or murals on ceilings; once you create something, you have full ownership of it, hence why intellectual property and copyright exists. Because having the power of control is just as equal to as any heavenly higher entity.
Humans have free will to believe in anything they say and like. Whether a person is good or bad is entirely up to their actions, so never trust their words alone. Never trust their words alone. The deception. The conniving. The manipulative. Humans are all of them and there’s no point in denying it when we’ve all wanted something at some stage in life. That’s why we’re all alone. Beneath the masquerade of our smiles, we’re all ugly monsters. And she was horrid, if not worse, which was the only reason why she had come so far in life.
With her left hand, she picked up all of her letters and stuffed them deep into her rugged shoulder-bag. Until, her eyes landed upon the folded piece of paper she was looking for with a famous emblem: a large circle with eight points which protruded like a compass that served as a guide for morality, or appeared as a sun often portrayed as a symbol of hope. Hope. That’s exactly what we all need, isn’t it? A little hope to pull ourselves together and move forward.
Inside the circle was what appeared to be three crescent moons and a hook turned east which had arisen from what seems to be an eye. Almost as if there was a figure of authoritative power spying on her. Or perhaps it was some sort of chameleon hanging upside down, its curved tail long enough to reach its mouth if she turned the paper around. A common red herring for misfortune cleverly camouflaged in the guise of an innocent creature of mutation to never give you utmost transparency with its intentions.
Just what did they want to do with her now?
The flickering lamp buzzed faintly into the quiet air as she took an unsteady small breath of air. There was that faint smell of death that lingered near, almost like the scent of ash and other regrets that seeped into the pores of wood. With wavering determination, she gathered the last of her mental strength to tuck her journal and pen inside her bag, leaving the rest of her belongings she was throwing away here. She never intended to stay for too long, yet somehow she managed to create more memories here then she wanted to.
Hesitant footsteps echoed through the room as she picked up a heavy box that fit in between her small arms, straining her wrists and shoulders even more than they already were. The desk lamp watched her figure leave, rusted and dull in all its lonely glory as it gave one last flicker of light before going out. That last flicker was all she needed to make one final decision, turning her back as she closed the door shut with her elbow.
She wouldn’t miss any of this. Not the loud thumping against the walls coming from her neighbours every night. Not the angry yelling below from the couple that went through more breakups than she had heard them say “I love you” to each other as she had her morning coffee by the window all alone. Not the cost of her rent going higher every month as she saved the last slice of moulding bread for tomorrow’s dinner. She wouldn’t miss any of it. And maybe that’s why the bitter ache in her heart only grew stronger, knowing that she never truly intended to create a story of her own, yet she had managed to intrude into others in the secret of her own room.
Goodbyes were always the hardest, but they’re only difficult if you let them be that way. For a city so constantly littered with trash, there’s always a flickering spark of hope that is too stubborn to be put out. And among these wasteful buildings, there are people who are stubborn enough to keep living on into tomorrow. With one final glance at the run-down building, she walked forward with her head held up high at the cloudy sky. No matter how gloomy the sky was, it would never stop being so bright. It was a permanent reminder that beyond “home”, there is life that continues to exist elsewhere.
And yours has only just begun.
a/n: chapter is inspired by BIBI's "Low-Life Princess", and the ending was inspired by Chase Atlantic's "Falling". today i learnt that tomatoes were fruits. i'm not happy so y/n shouldn't be happy, too. gif size so fat it crashed my laptop.
Here are the policies in regards of using the Lantern Devil’s powers…
INDEX.
I. Lantern-Writes: What I write.
II. Lantern-Writes: What I don't write.
III. Reader-Etiquette: Permissions and Obligations.
IV. BYF: Absolutely Must Read.
Lantern-Writes.
[I] The Devil May Write.
Whatever I wanna read. Ideas come from taking a shit or zoning out in the shower tbh.
SFW & NSFW page. Depends on my freakuency or if my mind is full of horrors. 18+ content but in the "Given Up" by Linkin Park sorta way.
Fluff, comedy(?), angst, any trope that’s cliche is a fav.
Usually not proof-read. I write my stuff on 2 hrs of sleep so it’s obv not the best…
Usually fempov since it’s more popular. Will try to write more anypov or malepov. Whatever that’ll help me grow with writing. Heck, I’ll even do OC’s if you info dump a whole essay on me.
[II] The Devil Won’t Write.
Race-specific reader.
Smut if requested. I write on my own freewill (barely).
Incest or any of those unhygienic stuff iykwim.
Mecha. I have my car license but I still don’t know the difference between the breaks and accelerator tbh.
Reader-Etiquette.
[III] Obligations & Permissions.
Looking for mutuals so hmu whenever wherever baby ;)
Don’t like something you see? Block me. Don’t like something I wrote? Block me. Use that button, my love. Don’t get mad at me for when you are the master of your own mind.
Absolutely DO NOT copy and claim my work as your own or feed my work into AI. No paraphrasing either.
Taking inspo is fine so long as you credit me so I can also read and support. But word for word copying ain’t cool bruh.
Comment anything you want. Hate comments aren't welcome though. Refer to second point.
Absolutely read any content warnings and guides if stated before any story. If you ignore any caution hazards, your emotions are out of my control.
BYF!
[IV] Absolutely Must Read.
As mentioned before, NSFW may be posted here. I don't care who my audience is so long as they are mature enough to read my works.
You can be the most freakiest degenerate out there and I'd still sit down to have coffee with you if we can be chill together. Heck, I might even join you for self-entertainment.
Just don't be mean and we're all good. I'm really dense and dumb so the chances of me picking up on sarcasm is pretty slim. Whoopsies.
Thank you for reading. Would you like to make a deal with the devil?
In a world that is constantly engulfed by the abysmal darkness of Her ethereal beauty, The Moon, there will come a time where the sun will shine brightly once again. If you see this, know that one day that you will glow so radiantly that my purpose as a lantern will be deemed futile. Everything is written into our fates. You will learn that the stories you see here are merely just empty words that traverse in time and space. And that one day, these stories will one day disappear like the ashes of a wavering bonfire, too.
Yours truly,
Lantern.
P.S: I write to teach myself how to love once again. In due time, I will finally learn how to be proud of what I write.
#GACHIAKUTA
MULTI-CHARACTER.
⚠︎ Dream Lantern (series) || depressed fem reader [ongoing.]
ᯓ➤ CW: suicidal reader, semi NSFW, fluff, angst, actually mostly a crackfic under the guise of angst, adult reader, third pov, good and bad endings maybe
A burnt out underground author, haunted by overdue debts and regrets. After going MIA, the Cleaners finally find you and demand that you return immediately back to work—no days off either. Perhaps slavery labour will become the floating lantern that lightens up your darkened world, inspiring you to complete a forgotten story lost waiting to be found.
ENJIN.
⚠︎ Tell Me Your Wish List (series) || csm yoru inspired fem reader [ongoing.]
ᯓ➤ CW: toxic relationship, NSFW, drug usage, not rlly enemies to lovers, toxic relationship, arranged marriage maybe, third pov, power abuse, crackfic, experimental story
Once Enjin learnt that he'll be taking in a new member for Team Akuta, he didn't expect the daughter of a formidable Hell Guard to show up at his door. Cocky, arrogant, and obnoxiously loud-you were his worst nightmare. He's never seen a superiority complex so bad as yours that he regrets taking this job as your new mentor. No more messing around with hot chicks for the blond charmer with tattoos anymore.
