Enewin



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    It had been so long since he’d had a body. Would it really be less cruel for him to leave things be?

     

    Ren and Doc worked with pest control. That was, if the 'pests' in question were infestations of the dead, spiritual variety. A job in a small mountain town leads them to a case that might be more complex than it seems, and at the center of it; Grian, a young man that is more entangled than anyone bargained for.

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    13 Mar 2026

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    The blonde kid steps around Hitoshi like he isn’t even there. “Oh, man,” he says, in on some cosmic joke that the rest of them are shamefully unaware of. “Guys, look who it is.”

     

    The line of Midoriya’s shoulders goes taut as a wire. “Hi,” he says, but he’s got his face angled down, not quite meeting the other kid’s eyes.

     

    Like he’s waiting for something terrible to happen.

     

    As it turns out, Midoriya has more in common with him than Hitoshi ever realized.

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    13 Mar 2026

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    "Grian, what are these?"

    Weakness, he tries to rasp; it comes out garbled, so he sucks in a long, slow breath and tries again, lungs trembling with the effort. "Weak– weakness."

    Scar drops the bottle like it's burned him. "You took three weakness potions?" he chokes out, and that seems to break whatever trance Xisuma, Pearl, and Tango have been in this entire time. They rush forward, eating the distance between them in rapid strides, until they're all crouched around Grian.

    Grian shuts his eyes again, before remembering he isn't supposed to do that. He wants to say sorry. What he says instead, is: "It was– safer. Like this. For you."

    It amounts to about the same thing.

    Or, I finally buckle down and post the rough draft of hunger au, where I give Grian every mental illness known to man and also a few new ones. Please heed the tags.

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    13 Mar 2026

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    The bassbeat drowned out conscious thought, and it took language with it. Grian couldn’t tell what people were saying. He could watch them, watch the colors play across cheeks and irises and the curves of strangers’ ears, their earrings, their weapons, but he couldn’t understand them. He was getting overwhelmed, and that was a bad thing. He’d worked too hard to get overwhelmed at concerts anymore.

    The Watcher was up in the rafters, huddled in a corner above the sweeping lights. Grian could see him if he squinted, a darker speck of shadow in the dazzled-out gray of the venue’s high roof, but no one else would be looking. They’d go about their concert and the rest of their nights like nothing had happened, the side effects safely dispersed over a crowd of three thousand, and the Watcher would come out healthier. His cheeks would fill out a little.

    He’d look more like Grian, and Grian--

    Grian would look more like him.

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    12 Mar 2026

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    Wild sported rather extensive scarring, and most viewers would rightly question how he’d survived such an injury. However, it’s a little awkward to explain your scars come from that one time you died. But it wasn’t like that was Wild’s only near (full) death experience.

    Wild was, well… wild. He got into quite a lot of hazardous situations, and it would not be a surprise to people if he poked things many others would agree should not be poked.

    Or, Wild decides to take a more creative approach when people ask where he got his scars.

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    02 Mar 2026

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