#original nice

Ways to approach the poll if the character isn’t a royal:

When Lin Ling was five he was almost hit by a car. That’s both true and false, it wasn’t just a close call- it happened. When Lin Ling was five he was ran over by a car, and the world didn’t pause for him. In the blink of an eye, everything was reset. 

No one else remembers it, only Lin Ling knows the truth. In one version of the world, he had already died that day.

It wasn’t just a one-time thing. Whenever something significant occurred in Lin Ling’s life, he would experience a do-over. A SNAP would ring out from the seams of reality itself. And then just like that, an hour would pass in reverse, bringing him back to a moment before the event ever happened.

It was a superpower, Lin Ling could be a hero! The only problem with that sort of thinking was that no one knew he could time-travel. It made these little acts of saviour in Lin Ling's day-to-day life all the more thrilling, and yet disappointing.

Of course, Lin Ling, with his miserable luck, had to be cursed with a power that went completely unnoticed. The rare ‘thank you, mister’ he’d receive for saving children from petty accidents was the closest he’d ever get to appreciation.

No one knows he’s the reason his boss is alive, no one knows he’s the reason their alive. It’s a sad reality he is forced to accept.

When Lin Ling is fired there is no SNAP, just an empty box and a sense of hopelessness too vast to ignore. That day, he planned ending it all, taking the leap and feeling the freedom of oblivion.

Instead, a real hero appeared. Or, rather, an angel- a falling angel, crashing from the sky. Lin Ling watched him plummet, watched him die. But there was no SNAP to fix it. There was no second chance. No reset.

What’s the point of a broken power? What’s the point of a person who can’t even reach his hand one inch further to save a god? Lin Ling wonders this for the next month in his run down apartment.

Currently, he wishes he couldve saved him, currently he keeps thinking of him, currently he imagines a reality where he pulled him up. 

SNAP

Lin Ling’s vision tunnels and then expands, the world stitching itself back together around him. The cold wind bites at his face, the noise of adds floods his senses. He’s back on the rooftop. Back to that moment. 

This time, without hesitation, he lunges forward. 

“Please don’t do it-” Lin Ling cries out, his fingers locking around the man’s wrist “there’s so much to live for, don’t give up!”

Nice turns to him, dangling over the roof, life held afloat by Lin Ling's deathly grip. His eyes are a captivating crystal blue, deep and turbulent. They echo in Lin Ling’s mind like the depths of an endless sea- murky, polluted, weighed down by invisible debris. Lin Ling wonders, distantly, how much time it would take to cleanse an infinite ocean.

“Who are you?”

Somehow, through adrenaline, pleading, and a few heady reassurances, Lin Ling somehow manages to get the hero back to his rundown apartment. Now, Nice sits on his couch, wrapped tightly in a blanket (swaddled like a newborn), dazed but alive. “Is this your house?” he glances around the small, cluttered space.

“Yep, welcome to my humble abode!” Lin Ling says with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Looks a tad messy…” Nice deadpans “Yeah, well, I got fired today so… not much time for cleaning”

This strikes Nice with shock and surprisingly- sympathy? “I wasn’t aware” Sue Lin Ling, but every time he looks at Nice sitting elegantly on the couch, it’s like capturing a fae. Nice sits there, posture effortlessly graceful despite the exhaustion in his eyes. 

It feels inhuman.

Lin Ling gulps, feeling it’s much hotter than before. Damn, it’s only spring but he might need to buy an AC. “No need to apologize,” Lin Ling blurts out quickly, trying to fill the silence. “How could you have known?” 

Before Nice can reply, Lin Ling snatches a knife from the kitchen counter, his nerves begging for distraction. “Anyway- wanna help me cook?” he says, forcing a grin.

Nice spudders at the quick change, might not be good to overwhelm him “Uh- i can only do simple dishes.” A faint pink dusts his cheeks, creeping up to his ears, and Lin Ling catches himself staring. The flush softens Nice’s eyebags, making him look alive. Is it wrong for him to feel this pull toward a man begging at death's door? Wasn't he doing the same?

“That’s fine, all you need to do is chop some veggies while I do the rest!” Lin Ling smiles, handing the knife to him

Cooking goes easy and sweet. 

The kitchen fills with the warm sizzle of oil, the soft rhythm of chopping vegetables, and the low hum of the stove. It’s domestic in a way Lin Ling hasn’t known in years. Two people standing shoulder to shoulder, navigating a cramped, cluttered kitchen.

Making small talk conversation with the number 15 hero he saved from ending himself. The questions range from ‘How is moon?’ (turns out they’re fake dating, Linling feels a ping of relief, but he doesn't know for who) to ‘Do you have a cat?’

Nice looks up slowly, brow furrowed, bewildered out of his mind. “No…? Most heroes aren't allowed pets, besides the johnnies and…” his eyes blank out, for some reason, watching that sinking expression hurts more than the nick of the knife.

Blood dripping down the tip of his finger, Lin Ling latches a shoulder onto nice “I-i was just asking since you take alot of photoshoots with them!” cue an awkward hollow laugh “Like, seriously, I think there’s a whole series- ‘Heroes and Kittens’? Anyway, don’t worry about it, just curious!”

He quickly turns back to the cutting board, pretending the slab of beef in front of him needs urgent attention.

“Your finger is bleeding.” Lin Ling freezes as Nice calmly reaches out, placing his hand atop Lin Ling’s. His touch is warm, careful, and terrifying. Why is his heart racing?

“Uh… yeah. It is…” Lin Ling mutters, feeling his ears burn. Stupid response. Dumb Lin Ling! Why can't he just stay quiet!?

“You should patch it up before it gets infected.” Their faces are close, too close. Close enough that Lin Ling can feel the brush of Nice’s breath against his cheek, can see the faint shimmer in his eyes, the subtle quirk of concern in his brow. It’s too much like a romcom. This is a hell of a meet-cute.

“I-I’ll go do that,” Lin Ling chokes out, flustered and far too energized. He practically sprints out of the kitchen, heart beating like it’s trying to punch through his ribs.

He slams the bathroom door shut, presses his back against it, and exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

When he returns, all he finds is a corpse. Nice slit his throat, dying silent and alone.

SNAP

tad late, [Nicest week 2025 - Reflection, Grief, Blue]

Linling likes to imagine ripples in the mirror.

He’d see tiny waves that transpired to trick him, to see anything besides the truth — a dead reflection. 

Those impossible fractures would form worlds anew. Fantasies of lives gone unknown, choices forbidden to our realm.

However 

No matter the medium, humans cannot invent unseen colors. Those panes would paint his face, pale as moon, blue as sky, yellow as sun, red as blood. 

He can’t wipe an image off a mirror; it only tells of reality. It mutes those words built on assumption, strangling the meaning in the expression, deafening the explanation of a- Fall