I write sometimes!

The artwork would be publicly shared in China's Hermes Society (a reader community) and on Lofter.com (a Chinese fanwork platform). I’ll clearly credit your story as the source whenever I post!

(P.S. I noticed you published this on AO3 last year – it’s been quite a while, so I truly hope this message isn’t intrusive!)

It’s a beautiful, sunny day in Seoul and Gi-hun has exactly six days before the loan sharks come for his kidney.

It's only been five minutes outside and he’s already deeply regretting not taking the hundred thousand won from the salesman. What kind of post-slap clarity had made him refuse the money? Whatever it was, he sure wasn’t feeling it anymore. It’s not like the salesman needed the money either. He was clearly well off if he was playing such games with random men in the subway!

---

He spreads his arms out as if to gesture to the world before them. “There is no more fighting. No more pain. This is what we wanted. Do you see what I’ve achieved?”

There is no response. Viktor knew there would be no response. It would have been illogical to expect anything else. Still, that does not abate the fire that has begun to blaze within him.

---

here are some sneak peaks:

i also appreciated how you portray Daisuke around the others! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

JUST HERE TO SCREAM ABOUT HOW GOOD YOUR WRITING IS

His head hurts like it’s being split open, and Daisuke is falling, falling, falling into the dark ether.

For a blissful moment, there is no pain. There is no Daisuke. There is only nothingness.

Then, suddenly, there are bright lights. Daisuke opens his eyes, blinking rapidly.

He’s in the main lounge of the Tulpar.

---

The building begins to fall around Robin at a violent pace. He’s gripping the silver bar tightly now. It won’t be long. The floor is shaking, the roof is falling, and he thinks of that happy place of his, that memory, and then he desperately whispers the words engraved on the bar—

Nothingness. For an instant, there is absolute nothingness.

And then—

Robin opens his eyes. For a moment, he wonders if he’s made it to the afterlife. He’s on that hill again, and next to him is the picnic basket. He could smell the cheese laid out next to the chocolate that he and Ramy had spent too much of their money on. His eyes begin to water at the sight.

“Birdie?”

---

“I’m worried you’re going to get yourself killed. One day, you’re going to find yourself in a dangerous situation, and I won’t be there to pull you out like I was at the arena. And then what? What would happen to you then?”

Coriolanus finishes his rant, blood rushing through his ears. His hand lands on Sejanus’ knee to brace himself. He feels like he’s bursting at the seams. He considers his own words. They rang true, didn’t they? After all, he put his own life at risk to save Sejanus. He can’t say he’s done that for a lot of other people. Sejanus and Lucy Gray, the two people that Coriolanus Snow saved with his own hands.

---

Coriolanus sends out the jabberjay with Sejanus’ incriminating confession, only to realize the gravity of his actions.

Alright, let’s do this one last time.

You’re New York’s one and only Spider-Woman. You were bitten by a radioactive spider when you were in high school, and, well, you know the rest.

One day, you meet Miguel O’Hara. He tells you about the existence of the multiverse, about thousands of other Spider-people like you. About an entire Spider Society, one that he had founded to take out anomalies and keep universes stable. He invites you to join, and—

You say yes.

---

“New look, huh? Kinda suits you, I guess. I always knew you were an edgelord.”

Touya would often crawl into his room at night and complain his heart out to Natsuo, and rightfully so. Natsuo would listen to him as long as Touya wanted him to, though that didn’t mean Natsuo couldn’t tease him for it. 

“You’re mistaking me for someone else.” 

His voice is deep, rough. Natsuo blinks. And then he snorts. 

“Oh, shut up. I’d know you anywhere, even under that stupid disguise.” 

---

“You’re trespassing.”

The unfamiliar voice is dull, lifeless. It still startles the hell out of Dabi, the fire-user nearly jumping out of his skin.

He turns and sees a figure sitting under the tree, barely three feet away from himself. For a moment, Dabi thinks he’s seeing a ghost. His fists are clenched in preparation to burn blue flames, to fight and make a hasty exit. His eyes adjust to his moonlit surroundings and his breath hitches in his throat.

Dual colored hair.

Shoto.

---

“Mr. Yagami, why is your son aggressively tearing through a bag of potato chips while pretending to read a book which he is clearly holding upside down?” L deadpans.

Soichiro sighs.

---

Light finds the Death Note. There's just one problem: he can't read.

Rem would die, truly die. She would crumble into ashes just like Gelus had. Rem would leave Misa in Light Yagami’s clutches, along with her own Death Note.

Exactly as he would want.

---

“Tell me how to reverse this,” she demands, staring the God of death in the eye.

The Shinigami blinks. For a second, Light thinks she isn’t going to speak, but then she says, “After the name is written, the victim will be killed by a heart attack after forty seconds. As per the rules.”

---

“Billy Hargrove?” she says tentatively, voice hoarse. At his slow nod, she continues, “You’ve been dead for over a year! At the StarCourt Mall fire…wait. Wait. Did I die and go to hell? Are we in hell? Is this hell?”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Are we in hell? I don’t know. Sure seems like it.”

---