#Observe it with great caution yet curiosity

[mossy-paws]

making a note of all the stuff I gotta get done but so far we have 3 pieces that I do really want to finish in a decent time and then a very small silly post that I’ll finish eventually as a stress relief once I’m done,, after that I’ll try to make room for some requests but only stuff I already have in my ask box, sorry :3!

[earthlybeam]

A bit of a silly, very indulgent, request here, if you're accepting requests of course! But how would Glorfindel, Legolas, Elrond (+anyone else if you'd like to add!) react to a reader that either has a dragon or can transform into a dragon? If it's the former request, the reader is really protective of the dragon no matter how big/small it is, and if it is the latter, their first meeting could be while the reader is in dragon form.

Thank you so much for your time and your writing, regardless if you end up doing this request or not!<33

how would the elves react to this?

↓

↓

↓

Elrond, glrofindel, Legolas Versions version below

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

Elrond’s First Encounter with You in Dragon Form

✶ Elrond’s reaction to discovering that you are a dragon—or bonded with one—would be a blend of awe, curiosity, caution, and deep reverence for the power and mystery of such a being. His centuries of life and wisdom would grant him a nuanced understanding of dragons, but also an underlying wariness, given their often tumultuous history with elves and Middle-earth as a whole.

✶ If you were to first appear in your dragon form, Elrond would not immediately draw his weapon or react with aggression. Instead, he would observe, standing tall with that composed grace for which he is known. Though his heart might race at the sight of such a creature, his wisdom would prevent him from acting rashly.

✶ “By the stars of Varda… what majesty and might stands before me,” he might murmur, his sharp eyes drinking in every detail of your scaled form. His voice would remain calm, laced with awe and curiosity, though there might be an underlying tension in his tone.

✶ Elrond would likely address you with respect, understanding that dragons are proud and powerful beings, not to be trifled with. He would speak in measured words, testing the waters before acting further. “If you come in peace, great one, I welcome you to Imladris, though such a guest as you has not graced these lands for many an age.”

✶ The fact that you show no hostility (whether through your body language or any gesture of non-aggression) would intrigue him further. His natural inclination as a lore-master would drive him to question your nature—your purpose, your past, and most of all, why you have come to Rivendell. He would approach cautiously, his every movement deliberate, a sign of both respect and prudence.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Upon Discovering You Are the Dragon or Bonded to One

✶ The moment Elrond discovers that you are the dragon—or that you have bonded with such a creature—his composed exterior would momentarily falter. A sharp breath would escape him as the revelation hit, his eyes widening slightly as the implications settled in his mind.

✶ “You… are no mere traveler, then,” he would murmur, his tone softer, imbued with a new layer of admiration. “Such power, bound to you with such care… and yet you wield it with grace.” Though Elrond’s demeanor would remain dignified, he would feel an intense sense of intrigue. His wisdom and lore would ignite, and he would recall the many tales and ancient histories surrounding dragons. Yet, unlike many elves, his perception would not be clouded by fear alone. He would recognize your rare balance—a dragon who was not ruled by the malice and greed that often defined their kind.

✶ “How is it,” he would ask, his voice quiet yet filled with genuine curiosity, “that one such as you walks this world, yet bears neither the hunger nor the wrath of dragons past?” His mind would immediately turn to the deeper implications of your nature. You were unlike any dragon he had known. Your strength, tempered with such care, would provoke a quiet reverence in him.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

On Your Protective Nature

✶ As someone who has dedicated his life to protecting Rivendell and its people, Elrond would understand and respect the fierce protectiveness you display toward your dragon form or companion. He would see the bond you share as sacred, as the very essence of loyalty and devotion.

✶ “Your strength and loyalty are admirable,” he might say with a deep, reflective tone, his voice laden with respect, “But even the mightiest of beings can falter if their emotions blind their wisdom. How do you temper such power with the calm of mind that is needed for true wisdom?”

✶ His words would not be harsh but gentle, a reflection of his understanding that even the greatest warriors and guardians need the guidance of their intellect to wield their power with caution. He would recognize that your protective nature comes from love and devotion, a trait Elrond himself values deeply.

✶ As he learns more of your story, his admiration for you would only deepen. Your unique dual nature would intrigue him, and he would see you not just as a being of immense power but as a bridge between two worlds—one of fire and one of grace. Over time, his connection to you would grow, as he began to understand the burdens you carry.

✶ “If ever the weight of such a burden becomes too great,” he would say softly, his voice warmer now, “Know that you are not alone, my heart. Rivendell will always be a sanctuary for you, whether you walk as elf or dragon.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

On Your Bond with the Dragon

✶ If you had a companion of draconic nature, Elrond would approach the bond with the same care and reverence. His understanding of loyalty and kinship would drive him to respect the unique relationship you shared, acknowledging that such bonds are not lightly formed.

✶ “You are rare,” Elrond would comment, his eyes gleaming with the quiet appreciation of one who has seen much. “Few have the courage to bond with such beings, and fewer still find peace within that connection.”

✶ He would observe you carefully, both your words and actions, as he saw how deeply your devotion to the dragon ran. He would not press too much at first, respecting the bond between you, but his respect for your loyalty and wisdom would grow in kind.

✶ Elrond’s Overall View of You as a Dragon or Bonded to One As the truth of your nature settled within him, Elrond’s thoughts would be a blend of awe, contemplation, and a profound respect for you. In time, he would come to see you as more than just a powerful being. You would become a being of immense value, not only for the strength you commanded but for the insight and wisdom you held within. His approach toward you would shift from cautious admiration to something deeper—a recognition of the rare and precious connection you shared with both the world of elves and dragons.

✶ “You are unlike any I have encountered,” Elrond would say with reverence, his voice a mixture of warmth and respect. “A being both ancient and new, powerful and wise. Your journey is one that few could understand, and yet, you are not alone. In Rivendell, you have a home.” And thus, with every word, Elrond would offer not only his wisdom but also his quiet, unyielding support. He would stand by you, as you both walk the ancient paths of Middle-earth—together.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

Glorfindel’s First Encounter with You in Dragon Form

𖤓 If Glorfindel were to first meet you in your dragon form, his initial reaction would be one of awe, mixed with boundless curiosity and excitement. He would not be one to immediately draw his blade; instead, his golden presence would shine brighter, his courage unwavering in the face of such a magnificent creature.

𖤓 “By the light of Laurelin…” he would breathe, his azure eyes wide as he takes in the sheer majesty of your form. A grin would tug at his lips, not out of arrogance or bravado, but pure admiration. “What beauty, what might… How could one not feel humbled before such a sight?”

𖤓 Unlike others who might approach cautiously, Glorfindel’s golden heart would compel him to step forward with confidence, though his movements would still show respect. “You have nothing to fear from me, mighty one,” he would say warmly, his voice laced with both reverence and his trademark playfulness. “I have faced many beings in my time, but none so magnificent as you. Tell me—have you come as friend or foe? Though, I admit, I am hoping for the former.”

𖤓 His natural charisma and lighthearted demeanor would likely disarm any tension. If you showed no aggression, Glorfindel would relax entirely, his hand leaving the hilt of his sword as his shoulders dropped into an easy stance. “And here I thought Rivendell’s gardens were the greatest wonders of this land,” he’d joke, his golden hair catching the light as he offered a respectful nod. “Clearly, I was mistaken.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Glorfindel Learns That You Are the Dragon

𖤓 When the truth emerges—that you are the dragon—Glorfindel would not try to hide his astonishment. His lips would part, and for a moment, his golden aura might flicker as he processed the revelation. “You?” he’d ask, his voice tinged with wonder. “You… are no ordinary being. What strength, what grace lies within you.”

𖤓 Glorfindel’s emotions would shine through plainly, his excitement bubbling over. “By the stars! You are both—elf and dragon!” He would give a hearty laugh, shaking his head as though in disbelief. “I should have known. Such strength in spirit, such fire in your eyes… Of course you are one of a kind.”

𖤓 Glorfindel would be endlessly curious, though his questions would come with an eagerness rather than caution. “How does it feel?” he’d ask, his tone almost childlike in its wonder. “To fly, to breathe fire? And yet, you walk among us so gracefully. Do you ever grow tired of one form or the other?” Though his boundless energy might make his curiosity seem overwhelming at first, Glorfindel would always temper it with genuine care. He would sense the isolation you might feel as someone caught between two worlds, and his warm gaze would soften. “You carry much within you—power, loyalty, and a love for those who cannot always understand your nature. But you are not alone. Not here. Not with me.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Glorfindel’s Respect for Your Protective Nature

𖤓 Glorfindel would be deeply moved by your protectiveness over your dragon form or companion. As a guardian and warrior himself, he would understand and admire your fierce loyalty. “It is no small thing,” he’d say, his voice steady, “to love something—or someone—so fiercely that you would shield them with your life. It is a bond that I, too, understand.”

𖤓 However, Glorfindel’s playful nature would shine through even here. If he felt you were being too overprotective, he’d gently tease you, his eyes alight with humor. “You know,” he’d say, leaning against a tree with a grin, “even a dragon as mighty as yours can probably fend for itself. But I’ll admit, there’s something endearing about seeing you so… fiery.”

𖤓 That said, Glorfindel would never belittle your devotion. Instead, he would become an ally in your protectiveness, standing beside you without question. “You guard them with your heart,” he’d say seriously. “And should the need arise, I will guard you both with mine.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Glorfindel’s Growing Bond with You

𖤓 Over time, Glorfindel would come to treasure your dual nature as both elf and dragon. He would see it as a perfect balance of strength and gentleness, much like his own character. “You remind me of the sun,” he’d tell you, his tone light but sincere. “Warm and radiant, but with a fire that can burn those foolish enough to test it.”

𖤓 He would adore the moments when you trusted him enough to let your guard down. If you ever transformed into your dragon form in his presence, Glorfindel would be the first to marvel openly. “Every time I see you like this, I feel as though I’m witnessing something out of the First Age,” he’d say, his voice full of awe. “It makes me want to do something reckless, like take to the skies with you.”

𖤓 And should you ever feel the weight of your dual existence, Glorfindel would be there to comfort you, his touch gentle as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You are not alone in this,” he’d promise, his voice soft but firm. “You are not too much, nor are you too different. You are simply… you. And that is more than enough.”

𖤓 Glorfindel would thrive on quiet, affectionate moments with you. If you allowed him to rest his head against your scales or curl up beside you in your dragon form, he would be overjoyed, treating it as the highest honor. “This,” he’d murmur, his voice heavy with contentment, “is where I am happiest—beside you, whether you walk as elf or soar as dragon.”

𖤓“You know,” he’d tease, his golden hair brushing against your cheek as he leaned close, “it’s not fair how radiant you are. How am I supposed to focus on anything else when you’re here?”

𖤓 At times, his playful nature might lead to moments of giddy excitement. If he caught sight of you preparing to take flight, he’d call out, “Wait for me!” before racing after you, his laughter echoing through the valley. And if you ever let him ride upon your back in dragon form, he would be absolutely elated. “This is it!” he’d shout, arms outstretched as you soared. “This is the greatest moment of my life!”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

Legolas First Encounter with You in Dragon Form

𖧧 Legolas, with his keen senses and the ever-present curiosity of youth (despite his age), would sense your presence long before seeing you. As you emerged in your dragon form, he would freeze—not out of fear, but sheer wonder. His sharp eyes would drink in every detail: the glint of scales in the light, the sheer power and grace in your movements, and the commanding presence that spoke of ancient times.

𖧧 “By the stars…” he’d whisper under his breath, a touch of awe creeping into his tone. Unlike most, who might reach for their weapons or flee, Legolas would take a cautious step forward, his bow lowered but ready, just in case. He wouldn’t see you as a threat outright—he would trust his instincts, which told him you meant no harm.

𖧧 “I have seen many wonders in my time,” he would murmur, loud enough for you to hear. “But none as magnificent as this.” His voice would carry a note of reverence, but also unguarded curiosity. He’d tilt his head slightly, the way he does when speaking to a creature of the forest. “Are you friend or foe, great one? Do you speak, or is your story told in another way?”

𖧧 If you revealed no hostility, Legolas would relax almost immediately, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He’d step closer with the silent grace of his kind, his posture neither submissive nor domineering but curious and open. “I do not think you are here to harm us. Not with eyes like those,” he’d say softly, his sharp gaze meeting yours without hesitation.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Learning You Are the Dragon

𖧧 When Legolas discovers that you are the dragon—whether through transformation or explanation—he would be utterly taken aback for a moment, his normally poised demeanor faltering into wide-eyed astonishment. “You… are both?” he’d ask, his voice tinged with wonder and disbelief. He’d blink rapidly, as if trying to process this entirely new concept.

𖧧 “You are unlike any being I have ever encountered,” he’d finally say, his expression softening into admiration. There would be no fear in him, only a deep sense of respect and fascination. “Both elf and dragon… You walk in two worlds, yet belong fully to neither. It must be a path both extraordinary and lonely.”

𖧧 Legolas would not hesitate to pepper you with questions, though his voice would remain gentle. “How does it feel, to fly as they do? Do you think as an elf in that form, or does the dragon’s mind take over?” He’d grow quiet for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours. “Do you… feel at peace? Or is it a burden, to carry such power within you?”

𖧧 His natural warmth and optimism would quickly shine through, however, as he’d grin and say, “I would very much like to see you fly. I imagine it would make even the Great Eagles jealous.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Legolas’ Reaction to Your Protective Nature

𖧧 Your fierce protectiveness, whether toward your dragon self or a dragon companion, would resonate deeply with Legolas. As someone who holds an unshakable bond with the natural world and values loyalty above all, he would admire your devotion without question. “It is no small thing, to care so deeply,” he’d say, his tone almost reverent. “Dragons are beings of great power, but also of great vulnerability. Few would understand that as you do.”

𖧧 If your protectiveness ever led you to act recklessly, Legolas might gently try to temper it. “Your heart is noble,” he’d say, his voice quiet but firm. “But even the strongest must be cautious, lest their love for another blinds them to danger. The one you protect would not wish to see you harmed.”

𖧧 He’d also empathize with the loneliness that might come with your bond or dual nature. “I know what it is to feel out of place,” he’d say softly. “To walk among those who cannot truly understand what lies in your heart. But you are not alone, meleth nîn. I see you for who you are, and I think… you are wondrous.”

𖧧 Legolas’ Ongoing Fascination with You. Over time, Legolas would come to admire not just your power, but the person beneath it. He would delight in learning about your experiences and how you view the world from both perspectives. “The trees must speak to you differently when you walk as a dragon,” he’d muse one day, his head tilted thoughtfully. “Do they sing to you, as they do to me? Or do they fall silent in awe?”

𖧧 His natural sense of wonder and curiosity would make him an eager companion, always asking questions and marveling at your abilities. However, he’d also recognize when you needed space, giving you the freedom to retreat when the weight of your dual nature grew heavy.

𖧧 Whenever you transformed into your dragon form, Legolas would watch with unrestrained awe, his eyes alight with admiration. “It is as if the stars themselves lent you their power,” he’d say softly, his voice tinged with reverence. “You are magnificent, meleth nîn. Do not let anyone, not even yourself, convince you otherwise.”

𖧧 And if anyone dared to question or challenge your bond with your dragon self, Legolas would step forward without hesitation, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his knife. “You may not understand,” he’d say calmly, his blue eyes glinting with steely resolve. “But that does not give you the right to judge. Their bond is a gift, not a curse.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Legolas’ Growing Bond with You

𖧧 When Legolas first learns that you are bonded with a dragon—or can even transform into one—his reaction would be a mixture of awe and curiosity, but not quite the cautious, composed nature of his father, Thranduil. He is still an elf, with all the wisdom and grace of his kind, but his approach is more gentle, more open-hearted, and full of genuine intrigue.

𖧧 If he first meets you in your dragon form, his reaction would be one of a quiet kind of reverence. He may not immediately speak, but his gaze would be wide, tracing every scale, every movement, with deep fascination. “By the Valar, such a being,” he might whisper under his breath, though his voice would lack fear. For Legolas, dragons are powerful creatures, and the sight of you in your true form would remind him of the ancient forces that shaped Middle-earth. Yet, his sense of awe would not diminish the warmth of his heart toward you.

𖧧 “I never thought I would live to see a dragon in this age,” he might say, his voice both calm and intrigued. “But if you are as magnificent in heart as you are in body, I can see why fate has brought you here.” Unlike the cautious stance of others, Legolas would not shy away, but approach with a calm and sincere curiosity.

𖧧 When Legolas learns you are bonded with the dragon, his wonder grows. He would view the bond between you and the creature as something akin to the bond elves share with nature, an understanding that transcends mere words. He would be fascinated by the depths of loyalty and protection between you two, though it would tug at something within him, too—an unspoken desire to know that kind of loyalty himself.

𖧧 yet, as an elf who has seen the destructive potential of both power and loyalty, Legolas might also voice a concern, albeit gently. “Be careful, Mellon nîn,” he would say with a soft but earnest edge to his words. “There is a fine line between strength and recklessness. Even a dragon must be tempered with wisdom.” He would be concerned not because he doubts your intentions, but because of how fiercely you protect your dragon side or companion.

𖧧 Despite his occasional caution, Legolas would quickly come to value your protection not just of the dragon but of those you love, including him. It would remind him of his own protective instincts toward his companions, and the fierce loyalty he feels toward those who are dear to him. “It is not just strength that makes one noble,” he would tell you softly, “but the wisdom to wield that strength when it is truly needed.”

𖧧 As the two of you spend more time together, Legolas’ affection toward you would grow in quiet, subtle ways. He might not always express his feelings with grand gestures, but his actions would speak volumes. If he sees you quietly sitting by yourself, he would move to sit beside you, always keeping a respectful distance but close enough that the air between you hums with the warmth of his presence. His touch, when it comes, would be light, a brush of his hand on yours or a fleeting touch of his fingers on your arm.

𖧧 His eyes would often seek yours in moments of silence, a soft smile curling on his lips when your gaze meets his. “I find peace in your company,” he might admit one evening, after hours of walking through the woods or sharing a quiet meal, his words spoken softly but with sincerity.

𖧧 He might also find joy in sharing small moments with you—little things that show his growing affection. If you were to show him something meaningful to you, be it a stone, a flower, or a small trinket from your travels, Legolas would appreciate it deeply, always eager to examine it with you, asking questions, listening intently. “A gift from your homeland?” he might ask, genuinely interested, his voice full of admiration.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ ꕤ ၄၃ ꕤ ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

[fafnir19]

The Gender Switch Experience

Linus sat on his stool in the laboratory, swirling a stirring rod idly in a beaker of bubbling pink liquid. Elias leaned against the adjacent bench, eyebrow raised in amusement. Linus sighed, setting the rod down. "I just don't get it, Elias. How do women work? Why can't I find a girlfriend?"

Elias chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "You know, Linus, sometimes intelligence can be intimidating for some people. Plus, you can be a bit too deep with your scientific explanation of the universe. You need to be a bit more approachable and light-hearted." Linus huffed, running a hand through his blonde buzz cut. "But isn't it frustrating? Women seem to go for these brainless muscle masses, like that arrogant Aron from sales.

It's like their brains shut down in the presence of biceps and a charming smile." Elias arched an eyebrow. "Are you jealous of Aron?" Linus blushed. "Of course not! It's just... frustrating. I wish I could understand them better. And on top of that, my parents keep pressuring me about grandchildren. I'm their only hope to carry on the family lineage. It's like the weight of the ancestry rests solely on my shoulders."

Suddenly, Elias's eyes lit up with an idea. "Wait a minute, Linus. Remember our research project? What if we use our machine on one of us to understand the female perspective better?" Linus blinked, intrigued. "You mean the gender switch device?" Elias nodded. "Yes! We've been on the verge of a breakthrough, and this could be the perfect opportunity for you to walk a mile in a woman's heels, metaphorically speaking." Linus's eyes widened with realization. "You really think this could help me understand women better?" Elias grinned. "Absolutely! Plus, it could be a fantastic test run for our breakthrough project. Think about it, Linus. You could become Lina for a while and experience the world through a new lens." Linus hesitated before nodding resolutely. "I'll do it." Elias clapped him on the back. "Great! We'll do it on Friday evening when no one is in the lab. We'll keep it a secret, just between us." Excitement and nervousness swirled inside Linus's mind. What would it be like to inhabit a different body, to see the world through a different set of eyes? He couldn't wait for Friday to come. 

As the laboratory fell into a hushed silence, Linus positioned himself before the formidable transformation machine.

Nervously, he squared his shoulders, anticipation and trepidation intermingling within the depths of his being. Elias, his stalwart companion, stood poised to assist, his eyes alight with a fervent intellectual curiosity that mirrored Linus' own. "Do you truly wish to proceed with this, Linus?" Elias inquired, his voice tinged with a blend of caution and excitement. Linus met Elias' gaze, his own filled with unwavering determination. "I must understand, Elias. I must experience firsthand what it means to walk in a woman's shoes," he replied, his words resonating with resolute conviction. With a nod, Elias initiated the sequence, setting the transformative apparatus into motion. The contraption hummed to life, casting an otherworldly glow as it enveloped Linus in its embrace. Time seemed to stand still as an iridescent aura unfolded around him, bathing him in an ethereal luminescence. The air crackled with anticipation as Linus felt a strange, almost imperceptible tugging at the very essence of his being. His form contorted and shifted as the machine worked its mysterious alchemy, imbuing him with a profound sense of transformation. His heart quickened as he became increasingly aware of the subtle, yet undeniable rearrangement of his physicality. A surge of emotions coursed through him as he observed his chest swelling with newfound fullness, the contours of his physique assuming a delicate femininity. He gasped in astonishment as his once-familiar genitals underwent a profound metamorphosis, inverting and reforming into the embodiment of womanhood. A flurry of sensations, both exhilarating and disconcerting, washed over him, signaling the irrevocable completion of his transformation. Elias surveyed the scene with an analytical fervor, his eyes aglow with exhilaration. "It's working, Linus! You're becoming Lina!" he announced, a spark of triumph dancing in his gaze alongside a glimmer of incredulity. Indeed, the profound metamorphosis had come to fruition, and Linus had been reborn as Lina, her spirit pulsating with the complexities of her newfound identity.

With an unyielding resolve, Lina prepared to embark on a journey teeming with uncharted territory, her gaze alight with an insatiable curiosity. "Elias, I need to immerse myself in the world as a woman, to truly comprehend," she declared, her voice resonating with a fervent resolve. Acknowledging the weight of their audacious experiment, Elias met Lina's eye with a nod of acquiescence. "We must exercise caution, Lina. This is unexplored terrain, and we must tread with utmost care," he cautioned, cognizant of the gravity of their endeavors. As the evening unfolded and the initial shock of her newfound identity began to subside, Lina found herself filled with a sense of empowerment and curiosity. She wore a radiant smile as she thanked Elias profusely for his part in the experiment. "We should celebrate this momentous occasion, Lina," Elias suggested, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Let's go out, have some fun, and truly experience life as a woman." Lina's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect. "I'd love that! Let's make the most of this opportunity." Together, they ventured into the vibrant city, the evening air filled with an infectious energy. They found themselves in a lively bar, where the gentle clink of glasses and laughter mingled with the pulsating rhythm of music. Lina savored the feeling of newfound freedom and embraced the thrill of the unknown. As the night progressed, Elias and Lina indulged in a few cocktails, their lighthearted conversation punctuated by fits of laughter and the occasional insightful observation. It was a rare and cherished moment of unburdened joy, unmarred by the weight of responsibility and expectations. However, their carefree revelry was interrupted when a familiar presence entered the bar. Lina's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of Aron, the very object of her frustration earlier.

She felt an urge to flee, but fear and defiance warred within her. Elias noticed Lina's unease and leaned in to whisper, "Let's leave, Lina. We can find another place to enjoy ourselves." Lina hesitated for a moment, then nodded her head with determination. "Yes, Elias. I want to dance. Let's go to a club." Elias raised an eyebrow, surprised at Lina's sudden resolve, but he acquiesced, understanding that she needed her space.  In the pulsating ambiance of the club, Lina lost herself in the dance, her body moving with a fluid grace that she never knew she possessed. The music resounded in her veins, infusing her with a sense of unbridled liberation. Elias, on the other hand, felt out of place in the thumping rhythms of the club and approached Lina. "I think I've had enough," he said with a strained smile. "Do you want to head home?" Lina, intoxicated with her newfound freedom, shook her head. "I'm going to stay a little longer. You go ahead, Elias. I'll find my way back." Elias hesitated, his concern evident in his eyes, but he eventually relented, knowing that Lina needed this night of self-discovery.  As Elias departed for the sidelines, Lina lost herself in the music, the vibrant allure of the night sweeping her into its enchanting embrace.

However, when an unexpected figure approached her amidst the dance, Lina's enthusiasm faltered. Aron materialized in the midst of the crowd, his confident strides carrying him closer to Lina with a charming smile playing on his lips.

Despite her initial reluctance, Lina found herself tentatively entertaining his approach, a strange sense of curiosity seizing her. "What's a vibrant beauty like you doing all alone on the dance floor?" Aron inquired, his blue eyes glimmering with a warmth that caught Lina off guard. Lina hesitated, caught in a curious dance of conflicting emotions. "I was planning to leave, but the music got the better of me. I couldn't resist the allure of the night." Aron's smile widened, the playful glint in his eyes stirring something unfamiliar within Lina. "I'm glad you stayed. Care to join me for a drink? I'd love to get to know you better." Lina's thoughts swirled in a tempest of uncertainty, her resistance slowly eroding in the face of Aron's undeniable charm. "I suppose one drink couldn't hurt," she acquiesced, allowing herself to be swept up in the enigmatic allure of the night. As the evening wore on, Lina found herself entangled in a captivating conversation with Aron, his charming manner casting an unexpected spell over her. The vibrant energy of the club intertwined with the heady allure of Aron's company, stirring sensations within Lina that she struggled to comprehend. Though she had harbored resentment towards Aron, Lina discovered a surprising charm and warmth in him as they conversed, his laughter infectious and his wit surprisingly disarming.

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of emotions, and before she could comprehend the gravity of her actions, she found herself in Aron's embrace, succumbing to an unexpected wave of desire. The next morning dawned with a disorienting haze of regret and bewilderment. Lina struggled to come to terms with her unexpected liaison with Aron, the weight of her actions settling heavily upon her. 

Eventually, Lina reunited with Elias, the gender switch machine restoring her to her original form as Linus. However, amidst their joyous banter, Linus divulged the startling revelations brought about by his time as Lina. "Elias, you won't believe what happened," Linus confessed, his expression a concoction of incredulity and astonishment. "As Lina, I found myself overwhelmed by unfamiliar sensations, and I… I slept with Aron." Elias arched an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well, well, well, Linus. It seems that Lina had quite the adventure. And with Aron, no less!" Linus scowled, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment. "It was a mistake, Elias. I don't know what came over me." Elias chuckled, offering Linus a reassuring pat on the back. "Relax, my friend. It's all part of the grand expedition of life. And I must say, this will make for a fantastic story to tell." 

As days turned into weeks following the experiment, Linus noticed a newfound vitality within himself, an inexplicable surge of energy and a fervent inclination towards physical activity. In a departure from his usual demeanor, he delved into rigorous physical exercise, his frame gradually gaining strength and definition.  Elias observed Linus's remarkable metamorphosis with a mix of awe and curiosity, remarking on his friend's newfound dedication to fitness. "I must say, Linus, the change in your lifestyle is truly astounding. Your commitment to exercise knows no bounds. What ignited this newfound passion?" Linus, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow, beamed with a newfound confidence. "I can't quite put my finger on it, Elias. It's as if this surge of vitality has engulfed me, propelling me to embrace physical activity like never before. I feel like a whole new person." Elias raised an eyebrow. "A whole new person, you say? Are you certain it's simply the result of amplified endorphins from exercise?" Linus chuckled, the resonating tones of his laughter carrying a semblance of unfamiliarity. "Sure thing, man!" In the following weeks, Linus's fervor for physical activity yielded undeniable results. His physique underwent a stunning transformation, his once slender frame honed into a chiseled form that exuded an air of confidence and vitality. Rumors of his newfound allure rippled through the research facility, prompting admiring glances from colleagues and an influx of attention from female acquaintances.

One fateful day at the gym, Linus found himself face-to-face with Aron, the very embodiment of the idealized image of masculine vitality that Linus had previously begrudged. The air buzzed with an unexpected tension as Aron regarded Linus with a glint of recognition and intrigue.

Aron's eyebrow quirked up in surprise as he studied Linus's physique. "Well, well, well, Linus. Look at you, morphing from a bespectacled scientist into a swole stud. Quite the metamorphosis, I must say. What's your secret?" Linus paused, acutely aware of the newfound strength that surged through his being. "It seems that I've stumbled upon a penchant for physical exertion, much to my own surprise. Perhaps I should be asking you for workout tips, Aron." Aron chuckled, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. "I must admit, the transformation suits you, Linus. Embracing the ways of the jocks, are we?" Their encounters at the gym became a regular occurrence, and soon, Linus found himself embarking on training sessions alongside Aron, their banter filled with a surprising sense of camaraderie. As they delved into rigorous workouts and exchanged jabs and jests, a bond of unexpected companionship began to burgeon between the once unlikely allies.

It was during one such training session that Aron inquired about a peculiar detail. "Say, Linus, I couldn't help but notice something. Your eyes are typically brown, yet they seem to be blue. Are you wearing contact lenses?" Linus furrowed his brow, a flicker of perplexity dancing in his gaze. "That's odd. I haven't donned any lenses, so this alteration is indeed perplexing."  

Seeking answers, Linus approached Elias. In the dimly lit laboratory, Linus paced nervously as Elias fiddled with vials and beakers. "Elias, you have to help me figure this out," Linus implored, his brow furrowed in worry. "My eye color has changed, and I don't understand why. It's like I'm turning into someone else." Elias adjusted his glasses and peered at Linus intently. "Hmm, let's run some tests. We'll get to the bottom of this, Linus," he assured, his voice laced with determination.

With deft movements, Elias collected samples and scurried off to the lab equipment, his mind whirring with potential explanations. After a few days of anxious anticipation, Elias bustled back into the room holding a sheet of paper. "Linus, I have the results," Elias declared, his eyes ablaze with curiosity. "It's... unexpected." "Spit it out, Elias," Linus urged, his nerves on edge. He braced himself for the impending revelation. "According to the DNA test, it seems that Lina, well, she was... she was impregnated by Aron," Elias stuttered, his shock mirrored by Linus's gaping jaw. "Aron? But... but that's impossible! How could this have happened?" Linus spluttered, his mind swimming with disbelief. "And what does this mean for me?" Elias paused, choosing his words carefully. "It seems that transforming from Lina back to Linus triggered a fundamental change in you. Because the lack of a uterus has prevented you from growing a child, it appears that your own genetic makeup has been irrevocably altered.You, my friend, are now technically considered Aron's son," Elias explained, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "No, that can't be right," Linus protested, his fists clenching in denial. "I refuse to accept that I'm anything like him. I'm not his son." "It's common for offspring to resist acknowledging their similarities to their parents," Elias chuckled, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "But Linus, when we really think about it, you've taken on a lot of Aron's traits, haven't you?" Linus fell silent, his mind grappling with Elias's observation. He couldn't deny that over time, he had mirrored Aron's behavior, finding a newfound confidence that had eluded him before.

Unbeknownst to them, Aron had overheard snippets of their conversation and sauntered over, a smug smirk dancing on his lips. "What's all this fuss about genetic makeup?" he inquired with a curious glint in his eyes. Linus flinched at the sight of Aron, his newfound anxiety clashing with his unease. "It's nothing, really. Just some absurd test results that we're trying to make sense of," Linus replied hastily, attempting to brush off the seriousness of the situation. Aron folded his arms across his chest, casting a knowing smirk at Linus.

"So, does this mean that you're no longer part of your own family line?" he prodded mischievously. Linus squared his shoulders, determined to refute the assumption. "Children carry the genetic traits of both parents. I can't just be solely considered like you," he asserted, his voice wavering with uncertainty. Elias shifted awkwardly, the weight of the revelation sitting heavily on his shoulders. "Well, the test results did show that about 90% of your genetic makeup is now paralleled with Aron's, with only 10% retaining aspects of your old self," Elias confessed, unable to meet Linus' gaze. Aron raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Does this mean that Linus' family line has now been wiped out - he is an only child?" he asked mischievously, his eyes glinting with mischief. Silence enveloped the room as Linus struggled to grapple with the enormity of the truth. How could he come to terms with the fact that he was more akin to Aron than himself and that his ancestral line has been vanquished?

Aron clapped Linus on the back, his expression brimming with amusement, "Look at that, you're one of the cool kids now, Linus! Embrace the change, buddy." "This is absurd," Linus muttered, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events. Over the next few months, Linus noticed a change within himself. His once-keen intellect seemed to wane, and he found himself drawn to activities he had never before considered. Linus clasped his hands and stared into the distance, "I never used to enjoy sports or casual conversations. What's happening to me?"

Elias patted Linus on the back, a tinge of sadness in his eyes, "It seems the transformation has altered more than just your physical appearance, Linus. Your interests, your behavior, they're all shifting." Linus shook his head, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the changes taking place within him. "I don't want to be like Aron," he muttered, despondent. As days turned by, Linus found himself a sudden desire to be more outgoing and social gnawing at him. "I never thought I'd say this, but Aron has become my best friend," Linus admitted to Elias, a sense of bewilderment lacing his words. Elias sighed, "It seems like you're embracing more and more of Aron's traits with each passing day, Linus. It's like he's become your role model."

In the nine months that followed, the change in Linus was palpable. His once razor-sharp intellect dulled, morphing into a shadow of its former self. No longer was he the dedicated scientist engrossed in groundbreaking research, but a husk of a man, devoid of his former brilliance. It was a bright Monday morning when Linus trudged his way into the sales department, a world away from his beloved science department. He was greeted with slaps on the back and hearty cheers from his new colleagues, among them, the suave and charming Aron. "Hey, Linus! Look at you, all dapper and ready to conquer the sales world!" Aron exclaimed with a roguish grin. Linus barely managed a dim smile in return, his once keen eyes now glazed over with vacant emptiness. His transformation was complete, and Elias could only watch in despair as his best friend slipped further and further away from him.

As the months went by, Linus' days revolved around sales pitches and closing deals. Gone were the days of intellectual pursuits, replaced by the pursuit of fleeting pleasures and hedonistic indulgences.

As Linus strolled into the sales department, a noticeable swagger in his step and a twinkle in his eyes, Elias glanced at him with a mixture of disbelief and resignation. "Linus, what in the world has gotten into you?" Elias asked, his brow furrowed in concern. "Hey, bro, check out my new watch. It totally seals the deal with the ladies," Linus drawled, flashing a blingy timepiece that gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

Elias's mouth gaped open. "Linus, you were a prodigy in the science department. A budding genius. And now look at you. What happened?" Linus chuckled smugly. "Who needs all that nerdy stuff when you've got charm, huh? Aron showed me the way. Now I'm living the dream, man." He slapped Elias on the back with a booming laugh, his once soft voice now laced with a newfound bravado. Elias's eyes widened as he watched Linus saunter over to the water cooler, surrounded by a flock of female co-workers hanging on his every word. Elias, torn between disbelief and resignation, approached the boss of the sales department, hoping for a glimmer of some solidarity. "He's dumb as a rock but knows how to use his good looks for successful sales. I guess, you should produce more of them, Elias," the boss remarked casually, not a hint of recognition for the man Linus used to be. In a moment of resignation, Elias turned to Linus, his once-friend, now a mere shell of his former self. "Linus, I need your help with something," Elias began, the weight of his words heavy on his chest. "I need a sample of your...cum." Linus, now devoid of his former depth, chuckled thoughtlessly. "Sure, man. Anything for you," he replied with a vacant look in his eyes, his once keen mind reduced to nothing but a mindless echo of Aron's.

And so, Linus and Elias drifted apart, their once unbreakable bond shattered by the cruel twist of fate. What was once a story of scientific discovery and friendship had now morphed into a tragic tale of lost intellect and shattered dreams.

[angelwheat]

Primis, Nikolai Belinski X Reader

Author's Note: Instead of neglecting writing entirely, I thought I'd keep myself refreshed by writing small stories every so often. Here's one for Nikolai as he doesn't get enough love <3 (gif not mine)

Topics: Hurt/Comfort , Fluff

Pronouns: She/Her | Words: 559

Location: Der Eisendrache

“It’s awfully cold out here.” A gentle voice spoke behind the man.

Nikolai glanced over his shoulder, tiny snowflakes fluttering down, filling the distance between himself and the girl standing in the doorway. His eyebrows slightly raised in surprise at hearing her voice.

“You should come inside.” She suggested, concerned that the man might catch a cold if he remained on the balcony any longer.

The Russian let out a soft chuckle, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “I have grown accustomed to the frigid temperatures,” He remarked politely. “It’s much like home.”

She tilted her head, observing the way Nikolai scarcely gave her his full attention. One could only speculate about the multitude of thoughts that occupied his mind. He was undoubtedly a man of great complexity, yet there were moments when it appeared as though he displayed his emotions openly and simply. In this instance, she could not surmise him.

Pulling her coat closer to her body to fortify as a barrier against the frigid wind, she ventured onto the balcony. Overlooking the courtyard blanketed in thick snow, she approached the rickety railing with caution. She dared not lean against the ledge, baffled at how it hadn’t already collapsed under the weight of snow settled atop it.

In the periphery of her vision, she noticed Nikolai. His shoulders were slumped, and his head was bowed, conveying a weight of emotions that were not immediately discernible.

With genuine curiosity, she posed a question. “What’s on your mind, Nikolai?”

A deep sigh slipped past his lips and into the air as a wispy mist. She faced him completely, her eyes filled with a sense of urgency as they quickly examined him.

Nikolai composed himself and addressed her with sincerity, uttering a single word. “Home.”

With a contemplative frown, she pondered whether he had more to share. As he remained silent, a sense of foreboding seemed to envelope him, casting a dark shadow over his presence.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she moved closer to Nikolai as a cold breeze swept in. He seemed to feel the chill as well, as his shoulders scrunched up and he subtly made a face.

“Do you miss your home?” She inquired with genuine concern.

Nikolai placed his hands in his pockets, maintaining his gaze on the distant horizon, and nodded subtly, acknowledging the girl’s attentive observation.

“Despite the persistent state of war in my homeland,” Nikolai stared down at his boots, hearing the snow crunch beneath his feet as he shifted his footing. “I find myself longing for the comfort and familiarity of my native soil.”

She felt a pang in her chest, contemplating whether it was due to the chilly air or the wave of sadness she felt for the Russian.

“I understand.” She uttered in a gentle tone.

Nikolai softly hummed; his face almost devoid of emotion as he turned to her. His eyes were visibly drooping, clearly weighed down by sheer fatigue.

“Oh, Nikolai, you’re exhausted.” She said, feeling slightly apologetic for being so direct.

Nikolai would be a terrible liar if he even attempted to refute her words, and instead eyed her indolently.

Her arm extended in a courteous gesture, inviting Nikolai to accompany her as she gracefully led him inside.

“It’s Dempsey’s turn to take watch duty.” She informed him. “You deserve some rest.”

[scrollonso]

Papa's Boyfriend — Checo/Pol

Checo had spent a lot of time preparing his children for this moment. Even though they were still quite young — 3, 4, 6, and 8 years old — he had carefully explained, in terms they could grasp, that Pol was someone very special to him. His boyfriend.

Sergio and Carlota, being the two oldest, seemed to comprehend the most. They had asked questions and nodded solemnly when Checo told them that Pol made him very happy. Emilio and Lucia, however, were still a bit too little to fully understand, but they knew enough: this man they hadn’t yet met was someone who brought a big smile to their Papa’s face.

When the day finally came for Pol to visit and meet the kids, the air was filled with both excitement and a touch of nervousness. Checo had spoken about Pol so often that when he walked through the door, his name was already familiar to them. Sergio, always the most inquisitive, was the first to speak up. As Pol stepped into the house, Sergio stood there, his small brows knitting together in concentration as if he was trying to match the man before him to the stories his Papa had told.

"So... you’re Pol?" Sergio asked, his voice filled with curiosity, not caution. "The one Papi talks about?"

Checo, standing just behind his son, couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his boy’s voice. He placed a hand gently on Sergio’s shoulder, nodding. "Sí, mijo. That’s him," he said, glancing over at Pol with a soft expression full of pride. "I told you, Pol is really important to me. He's Papa’s boyfriend."

Sergio gave a slow nod, the wheels still turning in his mind as he processed this information. But his curiosity quickly shifted gears, and in typical six-year-old fashion, he was far more eager to show off his latest toys than dwell on the idea of relationships. "Vale!" he said enthusiastically before turning to Pol. "Do you like racing cars too?"

Pol crouched down to Sergio’s level, a smile tugging at his lips as he chuckled. "I actually race motorcycles, but I think racing cars are pretty awesome too."

Before Sergio could ask more questions, Carlota, who had been sitting cross-legged on the floor playing with her dolls, looked up. Her wide eyes studied Pol with open curiosity. "Mi Papa says you make him happy," she said, her voice matter-of-fact as though she were stating the simplest truth in the world.

Checo felt his heart swell at his daughter’s words. He glanced at Pol, who was beaming at Carlota’s blunt sweetness. "He makes me very happy," Checo agreed softly, kneeling beside her and scooping her up into his arms. She giggled, settling comfortably against him, her little arms wrapping around his neck.

Emilio, always shy but observant, had been quietly clinging to Checo’s leg, his large, round eyes peering up at Pol. His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. "Are you staying for dinner?" he asked, his tiny hand gripping Checo’s pants as though Pol’s answer held great importance.

Pol smiled warmly, his gaze softening as he looked at the little boy. "If it’s okay with you guys, I’d love to stay for dinner," he said, his voice gentle and reassuring.

Just then, Lucia, the youngest, who had been toddling around, slowly made her way over to Pol. Though she was always hesitant around new people, the curiosity in her gaze was unmistakable. Without a word, she reached out toward him, a clear sign of trust that caught both Checo and Pol by surprise. Pol didn’t hesitate; he carefully picked her up, and she immediately snuggled against his chest, contentedly playing with the zipper of his jacket as if they had known each other for ages.

Checo watched the scene unfold, warmth spreading through his chest. His kids, even little Lucia, were already beginning to welcome Pol into their world. Sergio was still the first to break the quiet moment, looking up with newfound understanding. "So... that means you love him, right?" His brow furrowed again, but this time with a mixture of curiosity and the need for confirmation.

Checo smiled down at his son, his heart swelling with pride and affection. He rested a hand on Sergio’s shoulder. "Yes, I love Pol, and he loves me," he said softly. "Just like how I love all of you."

Sergio paused for a moment, digesting this information, and then, as only a child could, he grinned brightly. "Okay!" he said with sudden enthusiasm. "Can we show Pol our new toys?"

Pol laughed, exchanging a glance with Checo that seemed to say everything was going to be just fine. "Of course," Pol said, his smile warm and genuine. "I’d love to see them."

And just like that, the children rallied around Pol, pulling him toward the living room, eager to show him their prized possessions. As they excitedly tugged him along, Checo stayed back for a moment, watching them go with a deep sense of peace. Pol had only just met his children, but it was clear they were already embracing him with open hearts.

A few hours later, Checo decided to check in on the living room, where laughter and playful shouts had echoed just a while ago. As he walked down the hallway, the warmth of their joy lingered in the air, mixed with the comforting scent of dinner simmering in the kitchen. He opened the door to the living room, and a wave of tenderness washed over him at the sight before him.

There, curled up together on the couch, were Pol and his four children, a peaceful tableau that spoke volumes about the bond forming between them. Sergio had fallen asleep sprawled across Pol's lap, his small hand clutching a toy car that had become an extension of him. Carlota nestled against Pol’s side, her head resting against his shoulder, a doll still clutched in her arms as if she needed it to dream. Emilio was curled up at the other end of the couch, his thumb in his mouth, a soft expression on his face that hinted at the dreams dancing behind his closed eyelids. And Lucia, the youngest, lay sprawled atop her siblings, her tiny form completely relaxed as she snuggled into Pol’s warmth.

Pol, completely at ease in the chaos of little bodies, wore a contented smile. His eyes sparkled with affection as he glanced up at Checo, who stood quietly in the doorway, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Checo could see the way Pol gently brushed his fingers through Carlota’s hair, a gesture of tenderness that made Checo’s heart swell with love.

The sight was almost too perfect — a new family, a blending of lives, and love overflowing in its simplest form. Checo felt a rush of gratitude wash over him; Pol had fit seamlessly into their world, embracing the chaos and joy of fatherhood alongside him.

Quietly, Checo stepped further into the room, careful not to make a sound. He felt a sense of pride wash over him as he looked at his kids, who had welcomed Pol so warmly. They had only met a few hours earlier, but already they were creating their own memories together, wrapped in the warmth of love and trust.

As he moved closer, Checo noticed Pol’s gaze returning to him, filled with an unspoken understanding. It was a look that said, This is where I belong. Checo smiled back, a silent acknowledgment that this was just the beginning of their journey together.

He could hardly believe how quickly things had shifted — from a tentative introduction to a cozy family scene, where laughter had turned into soft breaths of sleep. The earlier tension melted away, leaving only the beautiful reality of their lives entwining.

Checo took a seat in the armchair across from the couch, his heart full as he watched them. He couldn’t help but think how fortunate he was to find someone like Pol, who not only accepted him but also embraced his children so effortlessly.

[the-goldenbunny-diaries]

Espionage

⚢ Pairing - Jihyo x Reader

✎ Word Count - 1.7k

☆ Genre - Angst/Fluff? maybe?

♡ Description - Your life as a barista changes with one encounter (A/N: surprise i posted early because this is probably my favorite I’ve written thus far)

★・・・・・・★

In a bustling city, you lived an ordinary life, unaware of the secret world that existed beyond your everyday routines. Little did you know that your life was about to take an extraordinary turn. 

Amidst the ordinary hustle and bustle of the coffee shop you work at, your quick reflexes and keen observation skills set you apart. Effortlessly catching falling items and anticipating customers' needs, you impress everyone who witnesses your artistry. Unbeknownst to you, a mysterious observer is captivated by your graceful movements, secretly watching from afar. Your unassuming talents have sparked intrigue in this hidden admirer, leaving them yearning to uncover the person behind the mesmerizing coffee counter-performance.

That evening, as you were heading home, a mysterious figure approached you from the shadows.

Stranger: "Are you Y/N?"

You: "Yes, who are you?"

Stranger: "My name is Nayeon. We've been watching you. Meet me here tomorrow night."

Curiosity mingled with hesitation, but the idea of an adventure beyond the mundane enticed you. Nayeon handed you a sleek black card with the word "TWICE" embossed on it and instructed you to meet at a discreet location the next evening.

As you arrived at said discreet location, a sense of anticipation filled the air. You never suspected that this seemingly innocent spot would become the stage for a test of your fighting abilities. Suddenly, without warning, four people emerged from the shadows, surrounding you with unwavering determination in their eyes. Adrenaline surged through your veins as you prepared to defend yourself. Each move, every strike, and instinctual dodge showcased your honed skills while they pushed you to your limits. The clash of forces intensified, leaving you to rely on both adrenaline and wit to outmaneuver the relentless assailants. In this challenging encounter, you proved your mettle, displaying remarkable resilience and resourcefulness.

After the intense fight that put your fighting abilities to the test, you find yourself catching your breath, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. As the metaphorical dust settles, one of the strangers approaches and, with a cryptic smile, hands you another card. On it, you see an enigmatic location, hinting at a secret base shrouded in mystery. The encounter leaves you puzzled yet intrigued, wondering about the significance of the hidden base and the intentions behind this unexpected invitation. With a mix of curiosity and caution, you decide to venture again to yet another discreet location.

Upon arrival, you found yourself in a hidden underground facility. You walked through numerous hallways until you eventually found yourself in a great hall of sorts. As you walked in, nine pairs of eyes immediately landed on you, four sets on either side of a main walkway and one menacing set of eyes directly in front of you. You continued forward with a bit of hesitation as you made your way toward the woman in the center. Once you stood between the members in front of the leader, she held her hand up to stop you from coming further. This woman exuded an aura of confidence and competence that drew you in immediately. She commanded the room without having to say a word. 

"My name is Jihyo, and I am the leader of TWICE,” she started. She spoke with a confidence unlike any you’d ever seen before. You’ve seen your fair share of the ‘cocky’ type of confident people at the coffee shop, but nothing compared to the woman in front of you. She was powerful, and she knew it. 

”We are an elite group of spies who operate in the shadows, safeguarding the world from dangerous threats. We've been monitoring your skills and instincts, and given how you successfully handled yourself against 4 of our top agents, we believe you have the potential to be one of us."

The pieces of the puzzle fall into place as you understand that every move you made before and during the fight was closely observed and evaluated by the organization. You felt a mixture of excitement and uncertainty, but Jihyo's encouraging gaze reassured you. She offers you a choice: 

join TWICE and become a secret agent, but you can never go back to your regular life

or

be killed because no one can know about the organization and its member’s identities

★・・・・・・★

Over the next few weeks, you underwent rigorous training under Jihyo's watchful eye. She pushed you to your limits, challenging you to harness your innate talents and develop new ones. Despite the grueling sessions, you found yourself captivated by Jihyo's dedication and fierce determination.

Under the cloak of night, you and Jihyo infiltrate an opulent gala on a mission to retrieve a stolen set of encrypted documents that held the key to a dangerous international conspiracy. As you glided through the sea of elegantly dressed attendees, Jihyo's grace and charm were nothing short of mesmerizing. Her impeccable poise and magnetic charisma effortlessly drew people to her, making her the center of attention. You couldn't help but admire her ability to blend seamlessly into the high-society crowd, concealing her true intentions behind a captivating smile and eloquent conversation. In the midst of the glamorous event, it became evident that Jihyo's charm was not just a facade but an integral part of her spy arsenal, a tool that could disarm even the most guarded individuals.

As the night progressed, Jihyo's finesse in engaging with key targets proved invaluable. In the face of danger and high-stakes espionage, Jihyo's confidence never wavered. You knew that having her as a partner was not only an honor but also a reassurance that they would successfully complete this mission, no matter the odds. As you continued to navigate the sea of guests, you brought Jihyo aside where no one could hear your conversation.

"You're really good at this, Jihyo," you tell her, smiling as she blushes slightly. "It comes with experience. Just stay focused, and remember our mission objective." You know she’s being professional, but you can’t help but continue to admire her determination. 

★・・・・・・★

Your connection with Jihyo grew stronger with each passing day. She became your mentor, confidante, and, unexpectedly, your source of inspiration. Her passion for justice and unwavering commitment ignited a fire within you.

After a particularly intense training session, you found yourselves alone in the training room. Sweat glistened on your foreheads, and your muscles were pleasantly sore from the demanding drills you had just completed. As you took a moment to recover, Jihyo's eyes lit up with genuine admiration, and a warm smile graced her lips. "You're improving rapidly. I'm proud of you," she said, her voice carrying a blend of pride and encouragement.

Her words filled you with a sense of accomplishment. Jihyo's praise meant a lot to you, as she was not only an exceptional partner but also your fearsome leader with years of experience. "It's all thanks to your guidance, Jihyo,” you replied, feeling a mix of humility and gratitude. "You inspire me to be better."

A brief moment of silence filled the air before Jihyo stepped closer, her eyes locking onto yours. 

"You have something special, Y/N. I see potential in you, not just as a spy but as someone remarkable."

In that moment, the sparks between you were undeniable. The tension in the room was palpable as you both hesitated, unsure of what the other was feeling. You knew that, since the day you started training with Jihyo, you’ve had feelings for her. You didn’t know to what extent until this exact moment.

"Jihyo, can I tell you something?” you asked cautiously.

“Of course! You can tell me anything,” she smiles, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I... I think I've caught feelings for you," you whisper, but she hears you loud and clear. Jihyo's eyes softened, and a small smile played on her lips. After the confession, the air around you seemed charged with unspoken emotions, and you braced yourself for whatever response Jihyo might offer. As her smile widened, you could see a mix of surprise, gratitude, and perhaps even a hint of reciprocation in her eyes. The tension that had weighed heavily on your shoulders started to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.

Jihyo: "I feel the same way. I've tried to ignore it, but being with you, it's undeniable. It's just... I never imagined this would happen."

You nodded, feeling relieved that she didn't reject your feelings outright. "I know it's unexpected, but I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. Our bond has grown beyond what I thought was possible."

She smiled warmly, her voice softening, "It's mutual. I've admired you not only as a skilled spy but also as a person. The way you handle situations with grace and determination is something I find incredibly attractive.”

★・・・・・・★

However, as your journey together progressed, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. The world of espionage was treacherous, and uncertainty loomed over every decision you made. Would your love be enough to withstand the perils that lay ahead? Could you continue to balance the intricacies of your relationship with the danger of your missions?

Despite the uncertainties, one thing was certain: the love you had found in the shadows was a force to be reckoned with. As you looked into Jihyo's eyes, you saw a reflection of your own determination and unwavering commitment to this thrilling life you had chosen. Together, you were an unstoppable force, catching villains and saving lives, but also cherishing the moments of tenderness amidst the chaos.

And so, with every mission, you embraced the unpredictability of the world you lived in, knowing that love had intertwined itself with your partnership, making you stronger both as operatives and as individuals. The future remained unknown, and the road ahead was filled with challenges and dangers, but you were ready to face it with Jihyo by your side, knowing that the connection you shared would be carried with you for a lifetime, through every twist and turn, in a love that transcended the boundaries of secrecy.

As spies, your story was far from over. What new adventures and trials lay ahead, only time would tell. But as long as you and Jihyo stood together, you were ready to embrace the mysteries that life and espionage had in store for you. The possibilities were endless, and your love story was still being written—one mission at a time.

[jupiterpp]

CHAPTER TWO: RIDDLE | 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞. -𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

important note; This is the first time I'm posting my stories on Tumblr. My mother tongue is not English so expect grammatical errors ahead.

word count: 2.8k words

MASTERLIST | CHAPTERS

"Professor Dippet, sir?" I said as I entered his office.

"Miss Delacroix, do come in," Professor Dippet called out, his tone a blend of friendliness and firmness. I took a moment to observe my surroundings, noting the array of intriguing items in his office. Shelves lined with ancient tomes and magical curiosities filled the space, while enchanted candles cast flickering shadows.

"Please, have a seat," he said kindly. I settled into a plush armchair, feeling somewhat apprehensive. "First and foremost, Miss Delacroix, congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin."

I gave him a small smile before he went on, his voice a bit more serious. "But there are some things we need to discuss about your unique abilities." He put his hands behind his back. "You have talents that are extremely rare, Miss Delacroix," he explained, looking right at me. "Being able to do magic without a wand and travel through time sets you apart in a big way."

"I'm not in trouble, am I, sir?" I asked, a hint of worry in my voice. Professor Dippet laughed warmly, breaking the tension in the room.

"Miss Delacroix, you have been here barely twenty-four hours. Surely you haven't found trouble already," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but chuckle along with him.

"Anyways, No, Miss Delacroix, you're not in trouble," he said, sounding gentler but still serious. "But there are some... things we need to talk about regarding your special talents."

I nodded, relieved yet still curious about the nature of our impending conversation. Professor Dippet's demeanor remained composed, his piercing gaze fixed upon me with a quiet intensity that belied the gravity of his words.

"As I mentioned before," he continued, his voice carrying a weighty significance, "your abilities are exceedingly rare, and as such, they require a certain level of... discretion."

I furrowed my brow, sensing the cautious undertone in his words. "Discretion, sir? Oh, right. Professor Slughorn already told me all about it on the train."

"Ah, I see. So Professor Slughorn has already enlightened you," Professor Dippet remarked, a hint of approval in his tone. He leaned back slightly, clasping his hands together. "That is excellent to hear. He is a mentor of great insight."

"Yes, sir," I affirmed, my hands resting nervously in my lap. "He made it quite clear that I should be cautious about revealing it... especially the ability to...travel through time."

Professor Dippet nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, indeed. It's good that Professor Slughorn has given you some guidance. However, there are some additional details I must share with you. Specifically, concerning the Ministry of Magic."

I leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "The Ministry, sir?"

"Indeed," Professor Dippet said, his tone now one of gentle caution. He rose from his chair and began to pace slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. "The Ministry of Magic is unaware of the full extent of your abilities, but they are aware that something unusual is happening. They've sensed disturbances that they can't quite explain."

A cold shiver ran down my spine as I absorbed his words. My eyes widened slightly, and I bit my lower lip. "How? I haven't done anything, Sir," 

"It's not about what you've done, Miss Delacroix," Professor Dippet confirmed, stopping his pacing and turning to face me. His gaze was steady and reassuring. "It's about the magical energy you naturally emit. Your abilities, especially time travel, leave traces in our world. The Ministry's sensors can detect these anomalies, even if they don't know their source."

I leaned back, trying to process what he was saying. "So, what does this mean for me?"

"It means you need to be extremely cautious," Professor Dippet said, his voice firm but kind. "The Ministry is always on the lookout for potential threats. If they were to discover the true extent of your abilities, they might see you as a risk. We can't have that, can't we?"

I have always known that my abilities are rare, even among wizards, but now I realize the potential consequences. The thought of being labeled a threat by the Ministry is daunting.

I always thought about my ability to travel into the future. I mean, why do I even have that ability if I can only travel to the future but can't go back into the past or present? It's always puzzled me. It's as if I can see a door to another room, but I can't go through it, no matter how much I try.

To me, it sort of feels like teleportation, Apparate in fact, except it's not quite the same. Teleportation would allow me to move instantaneously from one place to another in the present, but traveling to the future is different. Even Slughorn doesn't understand how my abilities work.

"[Name]? Why are you not in class?" Slughorn's voice interrupted my thoughts, causing me to glance up, tearing my gaze away from the book I was reading.

"Oh, Professor Slughorn," I said, slightly startled, quickly putting my book down. "I had a free period, sir, so I thought it prudent to indulge in a bit of reading."

"ah," he hummed, his eyes lighting up with an idea as he flashed me a grin. "Given that you have a free period, might I suggest you accompany me to my potions class?"

I blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected invitation, before shrugging and closing my book. "Okay, sure. Why not?"

As I stood up, Professor Slughorn started gathering a stack of books he had with him. "Might you assist me with these?" he asked, balancing a particularly large tome on top.

"Certainly, sir," I replied, taking a few of the books from him and stacking them in my arms.

Together, we made our way out of the library and into the bustling hallway. Students hurried past, some casting curious glances at the sight of me assisting Slughorn.

As we walked, I decided to bring up something that had been on my mind. "Professor Slughorn, you mentioned once that there was someone you wanted me to meet. Is that still happening?" I chuckled. "Is it the gentleman you kept speaking of?"  I raised my eyebrows expectantly, hoping for a confirming or clarifying response from him.

"Oh, indeed, indeed. I had nearly forgotten," he laughed, his excitement evident as he swung open the door to the classroom, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. "He has been excelling in several subjects, particularly Defence Against the Dark Arts. I believe you two will have much to discuss," he said, causing me to raise a brow at his statement before he ushered me inside the classroom. "Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Slughorn."

"Please set the books on my desk, [Name], thank you," he said before I entered the classroom, earning some curious glances from the other students.

"I've never seen her before. Is she the new fifth year?"

"She's definitely new. Slughorn just introduced her to us."

I carefully placed the stack of books on his desk, trying to ignore the whispers and looks from the rest of the class. Slughorn introduced me to the class, and I awkwardly waved at them, earning a few waves back and some friendly smiles. But despite the warm welcome, I couldn't shake the shivers running down my spine. I furrowed my brows in confusion as Slughorn called out a name—no, someone else's name.

I glanced towards the door to my left when it suddenly swung open, revealing a familiar boy.

"Ah, there you are, my boy! Come here, come here," Slughorn chuckled, motioning for the boy to approach. I narrowed my eyes at the oddly familiar guy before me, and he cast a brief glance in my direction.

A tall, dark-haired boy with piercing eyes stood up and walked towards us. I straightened instinctively as his gaze locked onto mine, and in that instant when our eyes met, a jolt of recognition shot through me, though I couldn't place where or when we had crossed paths before.

He seemed momentarily taken aback, his demeanor shifting imperceptibly before regaining its composure with practiced ease.

Who is this guy? I feel like I've seen him somewhere before. I've never interacted with anyone or made friends ever since Slughorn took care of me. So I probably recognize him somewhere in my previous school in London.

I couldn't help but acknowledge, this guy was heavenly attractive.

"My apologies, Professor, for being late," he said smoothly.

"Ah, no worries. You just got here in time!" Slughorn exclaimed with a loud chuckle before he placed a hand on my shoulder causing me to glance at him nervously. His gaze fixated on the boy.

"Tom, I'd like you to meet [Name] Delacroix," Professor Slughorn announced with a warm smile, gesturing towards me. "And [Name], meet Tom Riddle." He gave a reassuring pat on my shoulder as he introduced us, a gesture that both comforted and startled me. My eyes widened in shock as the name registered in my mind.

Oh my god, it's him. Am I dreaming right now? Somebody, please pinch me.

Tom Riddle. The same Tom Riddle I had known four years ago when we were eleven. No wonder he looks so familiar.

"Pleasure to meet you, Delacroix." He said smoothly before extending his hand out to me. His eyes locked onto mine with a hint of a smirk. Woah, he has grown so much in the last four years. Does he even remember me? I've only known him for three months when we were eleven. I doubt he remembers me.

I managed to compose myself just enough to respond. "The pleasure is mine," I replied, striving to mask my surprise and maintain composure. "Riddle, was it? The old man keeps talking about you," I added, trying to keep my voice steady as I shook his hand firmly. He slightly narrowed his eyes at me before releasing my hand, his gaze shifting to Slughorn and then back to me. A slight smile came onto his features.

"I could say the same," he replied, causing my eyes to widen as I glanced at Slughorn. "The Professor's been quite effusive about you. Though I hadn't expected to meet you so soon."

Slughorn beamed, clearly pleased with himself. "Well, I do like to share stories about my most promising students," he said before turning around and instructing the class to gather around. I looked at Slughorn for a moment before my gaze landed on Tom, giving him an awkward smile before walking away to stand behind Slughorn.

Had Slughorn divulged details about me to Tom Riddle? The familiarity in Riddle's eyes suggested he knew more than just my name. But why hadn't Slughorn reciprocated the introduction? Riddle already knew my name, or at least enough about me to recognize who Slughorn was referring to. Yet here I was, standing dumbfounded, unaware of his identity until this moment.

Why did Slughorn divulge my name to Riddle but not vice versa?

As I stood there, listening to Slughorn's instructions for the lesson, my mind raced. Why was Tom Riddle here at Hogwarts? I never expected to see him again, let alone in the same school as me. I stole a glance at Tom, but his expression gave nothing away. He seemed calm and collected as if he belonged here. But something about his presence unsettled me. 

Slughorn clapped his hands, bringing everyone's attention back to him. "Right, right, settle down, everyone! Today, we're brewing the draught of peace potion, a tricky little potion that requires the utmost precision. Open your books to page 32." He reached for a book on the desk, flipping it open to the designated page with practiced ease. "And the one standing to your left is your partner for today. No exceptions."

The class erupted in a subdued buzz of excitement at Slughorn's announcement, punctuated by relieved smiles and quiet exchanges among friends who had managed to pair up together. I bet the intelligent group is partnered up together.

I ended up paired with a guy named Reinhard Lestrange. He gave me a small smile and introduced himself. I nodded back, returning the smile. "Nice to meet you," I said, flipping open my book to the designated page. Brewing a potion was no joke – one wrong ingredient or miscalculated measurement, and you could end up with a potion that did who knows what.

"The Draught of Peace is a potion known for its calming effects. It's often used to soothe anxiety and agitation. Can anyone tell me one of the main ingredients?" Slughorn's gaze roved around the classroom before settling on mine. Oh dear. He knows my struggles with potions, and now he's coming over to me.

"How about Miss Delacroix?" Slughorn's warm smile and twinkling eyes put me momentarily at ease, though the lump forming in my throat remained. I stole a quick glance at Lestrange, who offered a small, encouraging smile.

"The ingredients include powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills, and powdered unicorn horn," I began, feeling the weight of all their eyes upon me, including Riddle. "Adding too much of the ingredients, for instance, would put the drinker of the potion into a deep."

"Wondeful. Five points to Slytherin." Slughorn chuckled before continuing, his gaze shifting between me and the rest of the class. "Now, could anyone tell me the importance of adding powdered moonstone in multiple stages during the brewing of the Draught of Peace?"

The classroom fell into a hushed pause as students exchanged uncertain glances, some furrowing their brows in thought. Riddle, ever composed, raised his hand with a blank expression on his face, but Slughorn seemed determined to hear from the others first.

Seeing no immediate response, Slughorn scanned the room expectantly. "Anyone?" After a moment of silence and no volunteers, Slughorn shook his head in mild disappointment. "No takers? Very well, Mister Riddle, please enlighten us."

Riddle lowered his hand smoothly and began to speak, his voice carrying the confidence of someone well-versed in potion-making. "Adding powdered moonstone in multiple stages is crucial for achieving the desired color transitions and ensuring the potion's stability," he explained, his eyes briefly meeting mine before focusing back on Slughorn. "Each addition of moonstone interacts with the other ingredients differently, enhancing their combined effects gradually."

Slughorn nodded thoughtfully, clearly impressed. "Well articulated, Mr. Riddle. Five points to Slytherin. Now then! Prepare your cauldrons."

Lestrange seemed focused as he gathered the ingredients, his movements swift and confident. "So, Delacroix, ever brewed a potion before?" he asked, measuring out some powdered bicorn horn with precision.

"A few times already," I said with a shrug, glancing at him with a small smirk. "Almost ending up blowing someone's house," I said with a chuckle escaping my lips. I was totally referring to Slughorn's.

Lestrange's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Almost blowing up a house, eh? That's one way to make an impression."

I chuckled, nodding as I added some powdered unicorn horn to the cauldron. "Yeah, let's just say this specific potion and I didn't exactly get along the first couple of times."

Lestrange laughed, pouring in some standard ingredient solution. "Well, as long as we don't end up causing any explosions today, I think we'll be alright."

As Lestrange and I worked together, I found myself taking the lead, guiding him through each step of the potion-making process. My experience with brewing the Draught of Peace proved invaluable as I carefully measured out ingredients and stirred the cauldron with precision.

Slughorn approached our cauldron, his eyes widening in surprise as he examined the potion. "Impressive work, [Name], Reinhard," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "You've managed to brew a perfect batch of Draught of Peace potion. Although," he added with a chuckle, "I must say, [Name], I'm relieved to see that this potion didn't have the same explosive tendencies as your earlier attempts."

"Oh  don't worry, I've learned my lesson – no more explosions, I promise." I chuckled. Slughorn laughed heartily at my response, his jovial demeanor putting me at ease. It felt good to share a light-hearted moment with him.

Just then, Tom Riddle called for Slughorn just a few tables away from ours and Lestrange, his potion looking equally perfect. His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he turned to Slughorn with a confident smile. "Professor, I believe our potion is also ready."

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease as Tom's eyes briefly met mine. There was something about his gaze that seemed to hold more than just casual interest. But before I could dwell on it further, Slughorn was already making his way over to Tom's table to inspect their potion.

a/n; so here is a simple explanation of how the ministry is able to detect those "disturbances" in the wizarding world.

[name]'s ability to travel through time, creates detectable disturbances in the magical world. These disturbances, or "traces," are picked up by the Ministry of Magic's sensors, which are designed to identify unusual magical activity.

The Ministry's sensors can detect these traces even if they can't pinpoint exactly who or what is causing them. This means that [name]'s mere presence and use of her unique abilities can inadvertently draw attention, regardless of her intentions or actions. So everytime she uses her time travel abilities which she couldn't control, The ministry can detect it.

[glassmarcus]

Klonoa 2: Lunatea's Veil—Prestige Mascot Platforming

*Played in July 2022, Written in November 2022, Mild Spoilers immediately

Your goal is the peak of the floating ruins. It's the penultimate level. You're coming off of a bombastic set piece level where you overcame a gauntlet of trials to gain entry to the final area of the game. But the momentum stops. You are soothed by the atmosphere and pacified by the incoming music.

A somber, yet inspiring tune plays. It's a song that entices reflection. It feels nostalgic even though it's the first you've heard of it. You listen closely to the tune as you scale upwards towards the precipice. The melody is strong, but there's an attempt to snuff it out. The wind blows powerfully to disrupt the audio. The volume of the song is drowned out and muffled by the unceasing zephyrs of the fortress.

Reminiscent sound clips appear and try to take their claim as the main event of the piece. These clips aren't just from this game, but the first one as well. They are memories of your adventures. The ones you remember fondly and ones you'd rather not think about right now. These memories stay with you, but none the less, they are still just memories. They had their time. This is NOT their song.

What's past has passed. The melody returns to full volume. It progresses forward. YOU progress forward.

It doesn't matter how hard the wind blows and how invasive the whispers of the past get, the melody always returns. Because it's not done. Because YOU aren't done.

You ascend, tasked with trials that are more difficult than anything you've faced before. They seem daunting, but you are prepared for them. If you weren't, you wouldn't have made it here in the first place.

Every success. Every failure. Every lesson you remember. Every bad habit you forgot. They've all trained you to be the person you are today.

You've gain peace of mind through embracing tranquility. Nothing gets to you like it used to. Your rage has been tamed and it takes a lot more to knock you off balance.

You've turned your joy of life into a thriving passion. It's not just about the destination for you, but living in the moment and finding satisfaction in every aspect of the journey.

You've attained observation through discourse. Every enemy you've faced you've learned from and gained an understanding of how their aggression can work for you.

Your indecision has been forged into an armor of caution. No longer are you a victim of reckless instinct and every decision you end up making you know is the correct one.

You've felt great sorrow. Sorrow you may never recover from. But that sorrow has only strengthened your resolve. You know that it will get better and so you strive towards that place in time where it does.

So you attempt the challenges. You probably fail them the first time through. But that's more than okay. You try again.

You fall into endless chasms.

You are burnt by cerulean hot flames.

You are maimed by a myriad of foes.

You fail as many times as you need to. But you persevere. The winds may roar, but you keep your footing. You move forward. You aren't done yet.

But, Why? Why don't you give in? Why not just accept that this is how things are and this is as far as you can go? It's just a game, right? Well.

Maybe there's spite to drive you.

Maybe you're running from something and want to keep running.

Maybe you think this will make you stronger.

Maybe you're just bored.

Curiosity?

Pride?

Closure?

There could be any number of motivating factors behind why your are doing this, but they all converge to one common point: This reason, has led to you making a decision.

Klonoa is not a character with deep motivations. At least not in this game. There is no wholesome backstory connecting him to the land of Lunatea. He has no family or friends to protect. He has no complex ideals he desires to espouse. He’s just… some guy, who wants to finish his adventure. It’s just a dream. None of this matters in the grand scheme of things. Tomorrow he’ll visit some other dream and go on a different journey. He could mail it in and suffer no consequence. But he doesn’t. He wants to see things through. Real or fake, he wants to help the people he met in this world. He knows he’ll probably never come back to this place ever again, but he still fights for a happy ending. Just because this is something he decided to do. Resolve is resolve, no matter where it’s derived from.

And just like Klonoa, this hard as nails level is something you decided to surmount and you don't owe any explanation further than that. Not to anyone else. Maybe not even to yourself. So you're going to follow through. That resolve will not go to waste. You know you can do it. You know that even if it seems hopeless and not worth it at some points, you will overcome. You will reach that peak. Simply because you decided you would.

While we're on the topic of peaks, lemme tell you how fucking sick the rest of this game is.

Peerless level design. Beautiful visuals. Thrilling set pieces. Snowboarding. A story for a platformer that actually connected with me. Klonoa fashion glow up. Perfect platforming and puzzle balance. Raw as hell boss fights. Klonoa 2: Lunatea’s Veil owns. It's a sequel to Door to Phantomile like how Empire of Dreams is a sequel to Moonlight Museum. But there are a few things Moonlight Museum did better than Empire of Dreams, while this is just a substantial vertical upgrade to a game that was already good. More levels, more ideas, more mechanics and still pretty lean. You can view having to revisit levels as some form of padding, but honestly they are remixed so well and shake up the formula enough to the point they feel like new challenges.

This game really made me appreciate how fucking brilliant Klonoa's move set is. It's extremely simple, but you can accomplish a wild amount of things with just the two buttons you’re given. And the complexity of what you can do depends on the enemy placement. You see games like Kirby and Mario Odyssey where your move set is dependent on the enemies you encounter. But what you have to do with that move set is never taken full advantage of. In Kirby's case because power ups are optional; In Mario's case because it having all its power ups being used as effectively as possible is unfeasible given the amount there are. In Klonoa 2, using your enemies’ abilities is vital and the mechanics are always pushed to the ceiling of skill and problem solving. You always have to be aware of which foes are around you and how you can use them, not just when you are prompted to do so. It's very mindful level design. Because each enemy is a problem solving tool it makes it so the enemy placement always has a purpose and is always fair.

When I found out that they halved your hit points from the first game, I thought this was either going to kick my ass or be piss easy. It ended up being just as hard, but more efficient than Door to Phantomile. In Klonoa 1 you were really only in danger if you got combo’d by a ton of hits or fell off. And even when you died you still had a surplus of lives that the game hands out to you like candy. Now look, I hate lives. I have not been shy about this in the past. But I do like items that you need to get through skill and problem solving. Klonoa 2 gives health and lives more value by making lives rarer and health easier to lose. While maybe not as valuable as gems and fragments, these survival collectibles are worth figuring out how to get and gives the level design more layers. And the game is really just trying to nudge you in the direction to try and collect lives. It’s not trying to be a dick. Klonoa 2 will literally just spawn a life after you die twice in a row. It even rewards you with 3 lives if you fuck up a section enough times and then get to the end of it with no lives left. It uses the illusion of an imminent game over in order to trick you into being a responsible gamer. I would still prefer another type of in-level item that aids you. But this is the most I've respected a life system on a console game.

My only real issue with this game is depth perception at some points. It's not a big deal, but it elicits powerful retroactive bitterness. Why did this entire franchise skip the 3DS? It's built exactly for a system like that. It is perhaps the one sidescroller I would actually use 3D for. Kirby came close, but depth was only required at certain points. Klonoa just makes sense in stereoscopic 3D. I'm so pissed. After beating this game I couldn't help but imagine the scenario in which they kept making these games. Klonoa has such potential and deserves as much love as the other Scrimblo Bimblos. It certainly has a better track record than the rest.

Allow me to codify this real quick, because this is a nonsense term I’ve been using that requires context. A Scrimblo Bimblo is soft pejorative used to refer to the cartoon mascots that showed up in the 90’s and early 2000’s and any character who might carry that same type of energy. I’m talking about your Sonic the Hedgehogs, your Crash Bandicoots, your Aero the Acro-bats, your Ty the Tasmanian Tigers, your Jazz Jack Rabbits, your Izzy the Iguanas, your Glovers, your KAO the Kangaroos, your Bubsy the Bobcats. Characters you may have never even heard of, but you can picture them in your brain and be 60% accurate as to what they look like. It was an over saturated market for a time and few have survived to this day. Klonoa is a fun cartoon mascot platformer, but he ends up being more memorable than the others by having quality stand out games and not giving away the character design in the name. Seriously, I think he’s supposed to be a cat, but I’m still not convinced.

I'd rather play the first 5 years of Klonoa games than the first 5 years of any other platformer franchise. After playing Sonic Origins I can confidently say I wouldn’t be upset with a timeline where Sonic and Klonoa switched places and we got dozens of Klonoa games and no Sonic games after 1996. Klonoa is like...if Sonic was consistent. Not game play wise of course, but just being an incredibly appealing character design with a fun concept and a unique flavor of edge. There are only a handful of great Sonic and Klonoa games. But those handful of great Klonoa games are basically all of them. When it comes to it’s platforming titles, the kid don't miss. Even Dream Champ Tournament, which had some stupid shit in it, is better than most platformers on the GBA honestly. I love Rayman 3(GBA), but I won't sit here and act like every handheld Klonoa game doesn't dab on it super hard. But I know that there is no way Klonoa could become a huge franchise. It has too much... integrity.

Going by the two main games, the intent seems to have each one be it’s own individual journey. You can’t really build a franchise off that. You need cast members and settings to stick around so people can get attached. The only constant Klonoa has is Klonoa himself. Sure this leads to fresh ideas for main entries, but it also leads to less iconography being developed for the series. Familiarity is marketable. Look at Pokémon for instance. It’s THE franchise, and when it made a left turn and abandoned all it’s iconography in Gen 5, people were not receptive to it at all initially (Unlike me who wasn’t receptive to it for the correct reasons). Then immediately afterwards it started to lean back into that familiarity and sales went back up. Klonoa can’t really grow if it replants itself every game.

The side games (Moonlight Mansion, Empire of Dreams, Dream Champ Tournament) are a way around this where they seem to reuse characters all they want. But that also just makes the canon fairly murky and hard to follow. It’s not clear how much these games impact the console games, so there’s a lack of cohesion you might expect. Also, Klonoa regularly reuniting with his friends kind of defeats the conceit of the franchise. They can only pop up so many times before they become thematically inconsistent or contrived. I like Huepow, but every appearance he makes, dampens the ending of Door to Phantomile. And even worse than the spin off platformers is The Legendary Star Medal, which just feels like a dev team didn’t know anything about Klonoa and made a top down action game about him. These Spin-offs are something they could have theoretically kept doing, but they admittedly sully the main games a bit by existing. Each game contributing to the mythos while also being self contained is definitely ideal and the direction you’d expect it to go. But instead of doing that or making more side games, they just sort of stopped making them. And I wonder if it’s just because of a lack of interest. Maybe no one has any ideas to top Klonoa 2 so they just didn’t try. Or they just didn’t have funding after their rush to create a franchise didn’t yield immediate results. I’m just gonna assume it’s the latter.

Back when the Reverie collection was announced, I made a post on Twitter referring to Klonoa as “The one true Scrimblo”. I hastily drew Klonoa in the style of early 2000’s Yuji Uekawa and made that my profile picture for half a year. At this point I had only completed Klonoa 1 and didn’t even like it that much. It was a raw display of fraudulence and I had no clue what I was talking about. I just wanted to like Klonoa. I got swept up in the hype.

Yet. I ended up being correct about that. He really is the best one. Sonic will always be my favorite platforming mascot of course, but I’ve played enough horrid Sonic games to know that he may not be the most appealing representative of the sub genre’s quality. Though now Sonic is currently on an upswing. Every aspect of the franchise is doing relatively well. If there was a time for Scrimblos to reclaim some of their former power, it would be now. Things were looking pretty dire for a bit. Spyro and Crash are resting under the heel of Activision. Rayman has been devoured by the Rabbids. Sly Cooper is gripping the edge of that cliff. Everyone else from the 90’s is basically dead, aside from Bubsy, who we cannot allow to make another game under any circumstance. But now we have Sonic making decent games again, Kao the Kangaroo coming out of nowhere with a new installment, and the Ty games getting remastered for...some reason. And now Klonoa 2 is easily available for the first time 20 years. We’re looking at a potential new age of wacky mascot platforming, and I consider that a good thing. It feels like it’s important to keep franchises like these in circulation. Would I even be as big into gaming if didn’t latch on to Scrimblos as a kid? I’m not sure. But what I am sure of is that I would have loved Klonoa if he didn’t evaporate instantly before I ever heard of him. So I want to be there when an actually new Klonoa game comes out so I can shamelessly shill it with everything I got. I eagerly await the rightful king of silly animal flagships to return to the kingdom and claim his seat on the throne.

[zapreportsblog]

Hydra Prized Creation

➥ summary: Hydra created a mastermind unlike none other with intellects only the greatest individuals could possess they combined that with their new advanced version of the super solider serum, and thus a ghost was born.

➥ chapter 8: Unseen Connections

Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, two members of the famed Avengers, decided to take a break from their usual training routine and enjoy a jog through the bustling streets of New York City. The early morning air was crisp as they made their way along the familiar paths, their presence a source of inspiration for many who caught glimpses of the legendary heroes.

As they approached a small restaurant, its cozy exterior beckoned to them. The tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, stirring their appetites. Steve suggested they take a brief respite and grab a bite to eat, an idea that Bucky readily agreed to. Little did they know that this impromptu decision would lead them to an encounter that would forever alter their perception of the world around them.

Entering the restaurant, Bucky and Steve were met with a warm and inviting atmosphere. The soft lighting and the gentle hum of conversations created a sense of comfort. The sight of (Y/N) moving gracefully between the tables caught their attention. She wore a polite smile, attending to the needs of the customers with unwavering professionalism.

As (Y/N) approached their table, she couldn't help but feel her heart race. She had recognized them the moment they entered—the legendary heroes, Captain America and the Winter Soldier. The realization sent a jolt of panic through her. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself, to expose her true identity and risk the safety she had fought so hard to secure.

Suppressing her emotions, (Y/N) maintained a composed demeanor as she took their orders. Steve, ever the friendly and affable hero, engaged her in conversation, attempting to put her at ease. He assumed her reticence was merely nerves in the presence of heroes, unaware of the secrets she held. Bucky, on the other hand, observed her closely, his keen instincts honed by years of experience telling him that there was more to her than met the eye.

As the meal arrived, Bucky's piercing gaze locked with (Y/N)'s. He detected a flicker of anxiety in her eyes, a vulnerability she tried to conceal. He sensed that she was hiding something—something that went beyond ordinary nerves in the presence of heroes. His own past as the Winter Soldier had taught him to recognize the signs of secrecy and pain, and he couldn't help but feel a strange connection to this seemingly ordinary waitress.

(Y/N), however, kept her interactions with the heroes to a minimum, focusing on her duty as a waitress and ensuring their dining experience was seamless. She had learned the art of blending into the background, allowing others to dominate the spotlight. Yet, the proximity to the heroes stirred conflicting emotions within her—a longing for connection and a fear of the potential consequences that could arise from revealing her true identity.

As Bucky and Steve continued their meal, (Y/N) found herself caught between curiosity and caution. The heroes, unaware of the extraordinary abilities she possessed or her past struggles, discussed their latest missions and shared anecdotes from their adventures. A part of her yearned to join in, to share her own experiences and become part of the world they inhabited. But the risks were too great, the stakes too high.

Bucky's intuition continued to gnaw at him, urging him to uncover the truth hidden behind (Y/N)'s guarded facade. He knew firsthand the darkness that could lurk beneath seemingly ordinary exteriors. As he observed her interactions with other customers, he noticed a subtle air of detachment—a skillful mask that veiled her true self. His instincts told him that she was running from something, just as he once had.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), her quiet demeanor and hidden past had captured the attention of one of the most perceptive members of the Avengers—the Winter Soldier himself. Bucky understood the complexities of human nature, the burden of secrets, and the strength it took to hide one's true self. As their eyes met once again, he conveyed a silent message—a shared understanding that went beyond words.

As the heroes finished their meal and prepared to leave, Bucky hesitated for a moment. His hand reached into his pocket, retrieving a small card with his contact information. With a purposeful glance, he slid it discreetly onto the table, a gesture that conveyed his willingness to listen and offer assistance if needed. It was a rare act of vulnerability, an acknowledgement that he recognized the hidden struggles of others.

(Y/N) watched in surprise as Bucky's actions unfolded. She realized that her efforts to remain unseen had not gone unnoticed, and a glimmer of hope ignited within her. Perhaps there were those who understood the complexities of her situation, who could offer guidance and support. She pocketed the card, its weight symbolizing the unspoken bond that had formed in that brief encounter.

As Bucky and Steve exited the restaurant, (Y/N) was left with a whirlwind of emotions. The encounter had confirmed her suspicions—the world of heroes was both a source of inspiration and a potential danger. She knew that her path required discretion, but the connection forged with Bucky reminded her that she didn't have to face her battles alone.

With newfound determination, (Y/N) resolved to maintain her anonymity, to continue her mission from the shadows, and to keep her true identity hidden. The heroes of New York City, although unknowingly, had become another thread in the intricate tapestry of her life, reminding her that strength could be found not only in solitude but also in the bonds of shared experiences.

[the-road-from-calvary]

📝 for sol <:

Sol Kindred, Independent, Malkavian Delphi (?)

Old enough to remember Delphi when the prophet yet prophesied. Which is to say - old enough to deserve a great deal of caution, and perhaps to see myself securely out of his gaze.

Engaged in a manner of courtship with Grandpa Dragon. A pity for everyone caught in the crossfire, but sweet to see. Alien and terrifying, but still sweet.

He mentioned he was at Syracuse, during the days of Carthage. I won't pretend I am lacking curiosity regarding stories he may have regarding my line. It is worth observing, at least. I may not be willing to draw attention the way Jackie does, but there is no harm in seeing what might be gleaned. Politely. At a distance.

[countenanceblog]

Chapter 73

Chapter 73

As Emilya, Varasta, and Chronus emerged from the corridors, the grandeur of the Great Hall greeted them. Its opulent purple walls exuded an aura of majesty, setting the stage for the gathering of gods. The crystal chandeliers illuminated the hall with a soft, ethereal glow, casting dancing shadows upon the many paintings on the walls.

The long dining table, transformed into a meeting place, stretched across the hall, ready to accommodate the gathering of powerful deities. Each seat was a testament to the unique nature of the gods, adorned with symbols representing their individual abilities. The head of the table, where Helion stood, commanded attention with its elevated platform, granting him a vantage point.

Nyx arrived, her otherworldly presence evident from the moment she floated into the room. Her long red hair floated about curiously. She waved excitedly at Emilya, Varasta, and Chronus before floating to her seat, her telekinetic powers guiding her effortlessly.

Mandala arrived with a burst of energy, his bold aura announcing his presence. Flames danced in his eyes as he settled into his seat, eager for the discussion to begin. Aireyon, the god of war and conquest, moved gracefully to his seat, exuding an air of calmness and strength. Materiya, with her shy nature, entered the hall with a gentle grace, a few squirrels and birds playfully following. Venuzia arrived with a burst of fiery energy, her radiant personality filling the room. She shot a wink at Varasta before taking her seat, eager to face any challenge that lay ahead. Nautilus followed, his cool and egotistical demeanor present, taking his seat with a sense of self-assurance. Grindall, the god of electricity, arrived with a grounded presence, his down-to-earth nature a counterbalance to the more flamboyant personalities in the room. He offered a nod to his fellow gods before settling into his magnificent seat of ivory and gold.

With the gods assembled, the atmosphere in the Great Hall hummed with anticipation. All eyes turned to Helion, their leader and the epitome of wisdom and power.

"As you all know," Helion began, his voice resonating through the hall, "we face a formidable threat in Kalki, The Spider, and Hel. Their mutant army has wreaked havoc across the world, leaving destruction in their wake."

Varasta leaned back in his seat, his wit never far behind. "And they've managed to conquer every continent except our home," he remarked, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "I suppose we should feel flattered that they saved us for last. One wonders if Kalki sees us as a threat."

Nyx's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she chimed in, "Kalki's ability to destroy matter and energy entirely is quite fascinating, isn't it? A true force of chaos."

Aireyon simply nodded in agreement. "Indeed, but we cannot underestimate Hel's manipulative powers," he said. "Her ability to control minds presents a singular challenge."

Materiya's voice, soft yet filled with wisdom, added, "I can sense the suffering caused by their actions, and we must find a way to stop them. Their terror must end."

Chronus, ever the cool presence in the room, spoke up, "We must proceed with caution. Kalki's unpredictability and Hel's cunning make them formidable adversaries."

Emilya interjected, "Then let's strategize! You each possess unique abilities that, when combined, make for a powerful force."

Varasta smirked. "Ah, but I can already become smoke and slip through their fingers. They'll never catch me."

Venuzia's fiery personality ignited, "I can teleport us strategically and catch them off guard. Surprise is to our advantage."

Nautilus, always cool and collected, offered a thoughtful observation, "We must be prepared to counter Hel's mind control. If she's able to get one of us, well – "

Grindall cut in, "Then she could get all of us."

Helion's presence, commanding respect from all, said, "Each of you brings something unique to the table. Together, we are a force to be reckoned with."

Mandala's fiery eyes burned with determination, "We'll show them that the gods will not stand idly by as they bring chaos to our world."

Nyx bubbled. "Oh, I can't wait to get into the thick of things! Imagine what sort of creatures we'll encounter!"

As the discussion continued, the gods began to weave their abilities together into a cohesive plan. Emilya's optimism inspired them all. Chronus, with his ability to stop or travel through time, pondered the possibilities. "We can use my powers strategically," he said, "to create opportunities and predict their movements."

Aireyon, the pillar of strength, said, "Let us remember that our actions will impact not just our world but the entire universe. Kalki's power waxes with every minute."

Materiya's gentle voice resonated, "I can help us understand our enemy, see their vulnerabilities."

Venuzia, her fiery spirit unyielding, spoke up, "And I'll make sure we strike swiftly and catch them off guard."

Helion nodded, his presence as a leader anchoring them all, "We must plan and prepare."

Nautilus, master of water and ice, said, "Our strategy must be adaptable, fluid. If we have to retreat, we leave no one behind. Our strength lies in our unity."

Grindall concluded, "We stand together, gods united against darkness."

Emilya rose from her seat, her resolve burning brightly. "Let's do this," she said, her voice filled with determination. "For our world."

Varasta stood beside her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And for all the time we've yet to spend together," he added, "let's show The Spider and Hel just how powerful we can be. Let's destroy them once and for all."

Chronus hesitated. "Indeed."

The other gods rose to their feet, their unity evident. Helion's voice, like thunder, filled the Great Hall, "Let our combined powers be the shield that protects our world from the forces of chaos. Let's bring the fight to them."

[bleuhisteria]

Deus Ex Machina|| Aizawa x Reader Chapter 7

Where quirks, inventions, ideas and bodies collide.

__

I arrived at Hizashi's classroom, gently knocking on the door and introducing myself to the teacher as I handed over the required form. Hizashi and Shirakumo had not yet returned from lunch, but their classmates were already present, their curious gazes making me a bit nervous. Nonetheless, I managed to muster a smile and politely waved to everyone, while also taking mental note of the information about their quirks that I observed.

As I left the classroom and headed back to my own, a realization struck me. It would be wise to carry a notepad with me at all times. I should jot down the quirks I managed to catch a glimpse of, as it could provide valuable leverage for Aizawa and me during the upcoming sports festival.

Soon, my own class began, and Haruki passed me a note, requesting to see my notebook again sometime. I agreed, and throughout the class, I intermittently scribbled game plans for the festival in my notebook. It crossed my mind that I should watch videos on the computer to get a sense of previous festivals, although I doubted if audience members were allowed to record them. Nevertheless, I'm confident that I could find someone who had managed to sneak in a camera at some point in time.

I had my notepad out, diligently jotting down the necessary preparations for the sports festival while Haruki observed my notebook. After class, we both decided it was time to head home, as the development studio was crowded with too many students at the moment.

"I love this model! I want to include it in my equipment for the sports fest! Is that okay with you, (Y/N)?" she asked eagerly, presenting me with an old version of bouncy boots.

Panicking slightly, I shook my head. "Wh-while it may seem great on paper, but trust me, I've actually tried it out, and it doesn't work the way you'd expect it to. It's not as functional as it appears." Taking the notebook from Haruki's hands, I flipped to a different page.

"Instead, try this version. It's a more improved one... although I haven't tested it yet. There are some key details that could help you when developing bouncy boots 2.0." I stated, pulling out a piece of paper tucked between the end pages of my notebook and handing it to Haruki.

The paper contained all the necessary details to enhance the device she desired. Since I had no intention of using it myself, she might as well benefit from it.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)? Don't you want to use this for yourself?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

I nodded. "Yeah, don't worry. I have other plans in mind. I'm going to use a few different things." My reassurance seemed to give her enough courage to take the paper from my hand.

"Thanks!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she held it up, examining it with a satisfied smile.

We continued walking towards the gate, our conversation fading into a comfortable silence.

__

What am I even doing here?

Aizawa stood by the gate, a sense of ennui permeating his being. He couldn't help but question his presence in this situation. What was he doing here? Students passed by him, their chatter and footsteps blending into a dull background noise. He waited impatiently for the person he had agreed to meet, his thoughts swirling with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

He had to admit, (Y/N) had caught him off guard with her proposition of getting him into the hero course. It wasn't something he had anticipated, and the fact that she had a plan only added to his intrigue. However, a flicker of caution tinged his anticipation.

If it's something stupid I'm leaving.

Lost in his musings, Aizawa's attention snapped back to reality as a figure with familiar (H/C) hair caught his eye. His gaze followed the person beside (Y/N), a presence that immediately put him on guard. As their eyes met, (Y/N)'s ongoing conversation abruptly halted, and her face lit up with a radiant smile at the sight of him.

__

I turned my head and saw Aizawa standing at the gate. The conversation I was having with Haruki quickly faded into the background as excitement surged through me. I approached him with a beaming smile, genuinely surprised and grateful that he had shown up instead of dismissing my invitation.

"Hey, you actually came!" I greeted him warmly, my voice filled with joy and surprise. I truly appreciated that he had given my idea some consideration instead of outright ignoring it.

Aizawa scratched his head, his gaze averting elsewhere as he replied, "I wanted to hear your plan..."

Haruki caught up to us, her voice laced with curiosity as she asked, "(Y/N), who's this?"

"This is Aizawa," I introduced him, my words laced with gratitude. I couldn't help but feel indebted to him.

Aizawa looked away, seemingly embarrassed. I decided to ease off and not overwhelm him. "Anyway," I quickly redirected the conversation, hoping to shift the focus. "Let's part ways here. I need to talk to Aizawa about something."

I had to get Haruki out of the conversation somehow, I didn't want to let her know what I was planning, it'd be disadvantageous to me if she did the same thing.

Haruki gave me a mischievous look, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "Alright~ I get it. I won't get in the way of your plans~" she playfully teased.

Perplexed by Haruki's implication, I furrowed my brow, but before I could inquire further, she was already walking away, humming contentedly to herself.

__

God, that was embarrassing. How can someone be so clueless? Aizawa thought to himself, unable to bear the situation any longer. Haruki's implications seemed to completely fly over (Y/N)'s head, leaving Aizawa feeling a mix of frustration and second-hand embarrassment.

"Let's get going. I-I'll explain on the way," (Y/N) said nervously, starting to walk. She pulled the bag strap on her shoulder, signaling Aizawa to follow her lead.

Nodding silently, Aizawa fell in step behind (Y/N), prepared to hear what she had in mind.

She took a deep breath before she began, "Based on my knowledge from previous sports festivals, the first phase is always an individual competition, the second is some sort of team battle, and the third is a one-on-one match to determine the winner," she explained, looking at Aizawa with one finger raised. 

"While I can't help during the first phase, I'll be able to assist during the second and third phases with permission from the teachers. What I want is to develop a support item that can complement your quirk, something that can give you an advantage in battle."

She paused for a moment, her expression turning serious. "This should be a showcase of your skill rather than relying solely on your quirk, just like mine. If you shine, I shine. Understand?" (Y/N) asked, pointing at him and then herself, a smile playing on her lips.

Aizawa was taken aback by her sudden confidence. It was a stark contrast to her usual demeanor, showing just how serious she was about her goal. And she was doing it for his sake as well.

"What kind of equipment are you planning to give me?" Aizawa asked, a valid question considering he knew nothing about (Y/N)'s abilities. All he knew was that she had shown selflessness and appeared physically weak during the previous exam, only scoring five points.

With a smile, (Y/N) raised a finger. "Something that will suit you," she stated, deliberately leaving it vague. Then she shifted the focus of the conversation. "I want to learn more about you, about your body's capabilities and your limits. To do that, I need to analyze you up close. So, train with me," she proposed.

"When?" Aizawa asked, wanting to set a time for their training.

"Tomorrow, at my house. My dad has a spacious testing area for his gear. We can train there," she replied, pulling out a notepad from her pocket.

A glimpse of the notepad revealed a wall of text labeled 'SPORTS FEST GAME PLAN.' Aizawa couldn't help but wonder just how much planning she had done.

Leaving him astounded, (Y/N) handed him a torn piece of paper with her address on it.

(Y/N) handed him the piece of paper with her address, her words lingering in the air. "Here, since tomorrow is the weekend, we have time to test and train together right away. You can come around early morning if that works for you. I'm usually up pretty early," she said, her anticipation palpable as she waited for his response.

Aizawa accepted the paper, feeling a surge of determination within him. "I'll come around 8 am," he replied, taking note of the excitement that sparked in (Y/N)'s eyes upon hearing his answer.

"That's settled then," she declared, a sense of purpose in her voice. As they reached the train station, (Y/N)'s train arrived first, signaling their impending separation. With a smile, she turned to Aizawa. "This is my train. I'll see you tomorrow." With a wave, she hopped onto the train, leaving Aizawa standing there, watching as the doors closed.

Lost in thought, he found himself staring at the piece of paper in his hand, the address written on it a symbol of the path they were about to embark on. Tucking it safely into his pocket, he awaited the arrival of his own train, his mind abuzz with anticipation for the training session that awaited them tomorrow.

__

The morning sun cast its warm glow on Aizawa as he stood before the grand gates of what appeared to be a mansion. Despite the house itself being of regular size, the sprawling land surrounding it exuded an air of opulence and grandeur. Aizawa couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the numerous guards stationed at the gates. With a deep breath, he mustered his determination and approached the intercom.

Pressing the button, a voice immediately crackled through the speaker, its tone direct and precise. "Purpose for visit?"

Aizawa stumbled over his words for a moment, momentarily forgetting (Y/N)'s name. Gripping his bag tightly, he managed to mumble, "My name is Aizawa Shouta. I'm here to train with..." His voice trailed off, frustration lacing his tone. Before he could gather his thoughts, the voice from the intercom interjected.

"You're here for (Y/N)-sama, correct? One moment." The voice spoke again, and after a brief pause, the massive gates slowly swung open.

Aizawa mentally scolded himself for his forgetfulness as he proceeded towards the house. Standing by the entrance was a woman dressed in a maid's uniform, who greeted him with a formal bow.

"My name is Elena, I am the maid of this household. (Y/N)-sama has asked me to bring you to the testing grounds." Elena's eyes seemed to penetrate Aizawa's being for a moment before a warm smile graced her face. "Please follow me," she said, extending a guiding hand. With a nod, Aizawa followed her lead as they made their way along a rocky trail connected to the side of the house.

As they walked, the distant sound of clashing reached Aizawa's ears. His curiosity piqued, he quickened his pace, and soon the sight unfolded before him—a massive stone platform, resembling a colossal tile, situated in the middle of the field. And there, engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand combat, was (Y/N) struggling against an older man—her father.

Aizawa couldn't help but be taken aback by the intensity of the fight. The determination in (Y/N)'s eyes and the unwavering spirit with which she faced her opponent captivated him.

With a swift motion, (Y/N) tumbled to the ground, clearly outmatched by her opponent's superior combat skills. The man chuckled, extending a hand towards her. "You're getting rusty, (N/N). Has being in the support department taken you away from proper training?" he teased.

Wiping a smudge from her cheek, (Y/N) shot him a defiant glare as she accepted his hand. "As if!" she retorted, her determination shining through.

Interrupting the intense moment, Elena's voice rang out, calling (Y/N)'s attention. "Your guest is here, (Y/N)-sama," she announced, causing both father and daughter to turn their heads.

The realization struck (Y/N) like a bolt of lightning, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she noticed that Aizawa had been observing their sparring session. "A-A-Aizawa!" she stammered, panic seeping into her voice.

Her father's gaze shifted from (Y/N) to Aizawa, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. Remembering the conversations with his daughter, he recalled her determination to support Aizawa and help him gain recognition, having felt like she had held him back during the entrance exam.

(Y/N) hastily retrieved her jacket and quickly zipped it up, her attempt to conceal her sparring session in vain as Aizawa had already witnessed it. However, his focus shifted as his gaze locked onto the man standing behind (Y/N). She turned to see her father, and her anxiety skyrocketed.

"P-please don't tell anybody!" she blurted out, bowing deeply in a desperate plea.

Perplexed by the sudden request, Aizawa tilted his head in confusion. Just as tension started to build, Elena interjected, her voice calm and reassuring. "He doesn't know who (F/N)-sama is, it's alright," she explained with a gentle smile.

Relief washed over (Y/N), her eyes sparkling with hope as she raised her head to meet Elena's gaze. "R-really?" she asked, her voice filled with gratitude.

Elena nodded affirmatively, and (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. She turned back to Aizawa, her expression brightening. "This is my dad," she introduced happily, as her father approached them, waving his hand in greeting.

"Hi there, pal. I'm (Y/N)'s father. I heard she wanted to create a support item for you. Feel free to use my garage as much as you want," he offered with a warm smile. Suddenly, his phone rang, interrupting the conversation. "Ah, I'll have to take this call. Elena will keep an eye on you two while I'm away," he said, answering the call and walking off, leaving (Y/N) and Aizawa in the care of the trusted maid.

As her father departed, (Y/N) couldn't help but call out, "S-stay safe at work!" She then turned her attention back to Aizawa, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

After a moment of silence, she gathered the courage to speak up. "D-do you want to spar for a bit? It'll help me evaluate your combat ability," she suggested, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Sure. How do you want to do this?" Aizawa inquired, already stretching his muscles in preparation for the spar.

(Y/N) smiled, getting into a comfortable stance with a hand on her hip. "We'll fight hand to hand, no quirks. Sound good?" she proposed.

Aizawa nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me."

The two of them walked over to the platform, positioning themselves across from each other. (Y/N) discarded her jacket, revealing the black tank top she wore underneath. From her pockets, she retrieved a pair of fingerless gloves, tossing them over to Aizawa.

"Here, just so that we're even," she said, handing him the gloves. Then, turning to Elena, she commanded, "Elena, tell us when to start."

The maid nodded in acknowledgment.

Aizawa took a moment to slip the gloves on, his gaze returning to (Y/N). Her eyes were focused, shimmering with determination.

They both assumed their stances as Elena's voice rang out, "Start!"

[luonnon-varainen]

The continent looks something like this. Not final project but it's close enough

Little extra is how polar titans look when they live in warmer and lighter climate. To avoid heat strokes they trim their fur every two weeks. The rapid fur growth is a genetic trait but there is also traditional hair conditioner they keep as a secret. It's great if you live in snowy land, but in always sunny land not really. They usually wear light clothes around the waist and cover their heads with the ribbons in the continent would be attached to hornwear. A necessity are goggles with thick amber glasses. Prone to damage eyes of polar titans need a lot of protection. Narrowing the vision is a necessary evil if anybody would like to see sunrises after five years since moving in

Early stages of the war era

it might be a bit uncomfortable to read, there is no detailed descriptions or anything but the topic is well obviously not nice so be aware

During the war era the polar region was sadly first to fall. That place was too well fitted for archivists, too strategically important, too safe to treat like any other isles. In many ways perfect for the photophobic thermophilic aliens and their planetar archive above heads of unsuspecting locals. So they took it first. The continent itself is isolated from other lands. The rocky sea and the barrier reef are quite big obstacle to keep in touch with other clans regularly. Easy to control and defend in case of a counteroffensive(rear occasion to see them scared enough to even think about defensive aspect of their nest). With no daytime Archivists could be active nonstop. Observing, learning and training before the true war had started. High volcanic activity allows keeping proper energy balance so crucial for collector. Poor communication, most of the mail had to be directly handed by mailman instead of usually messenger feathered dragons, didn't help either when first missing stared to occur. Every news was out of date when it arrived to the authorities. Perfect place to start the unthinkable atrocities

Polar titans were first to meet their new "neighbours". For quite a while their species haven't had any contact with anything that could oppose any greater danger to them. Discovering something new, mysterious and unknown in their forest or sea was well exciting. The first feeling wasn't fear or caution, but curiosity. Polars literally got closer to Archivists willingly to investigate what it is. To see, touch, smell just experience this being. It has witch-like frame, but with the uncanny valley vibe. Familiar, alien, but mostly intriguing.(to be honest collectors are very friend-shaped. On the first glance don't seem to be particularly dangerous, especially since they resemble witches. Only height can be intimidating) Noone could predict what will come next. Meetings usually didn't end well for investigators. For other town folks those titans just vanished without a trace, never to be heard again. Leaving only this eerie felling of some incoming dread lurking in the shadows. There wasn't really time to connect dots what could happened, situation escalated quickly. Titans couldn't prepare themselves and successfully protect like during later stages of war. Knowledge about their light sensitivity, vulnerability to titans magic, their manipulative techniques of luring into the woods wasn't there yet. Even titan's homes weren't safe, without protective spells Archivists just walked inside through main doors to do the job. It was even hard for witnesses, as only witches slided through the encounters and usually they changed the side or never mention it again

This style of tide applies to the whole continent situation in a scale of the planet. Just at some point there was no contact with entire clan. Only dead silence and missing ships. No warnings, no signs, a civilisation existed and it was missing. Every other isle got its "declaration of war", a chance to fighting back, its battles, its negotiations, allies, military coalitions and the basic knowledge of its enemy. They could choose an honourable end. In the battle. Resisting gods and their will. Residents of the continent were more like moths flying into the flames

The polar region

!This is quite big world building post of pure hyper fixation and murdered English be warned!

General geography

The polar region is located on the south of the globe, on one of the only two continents. Due to the axis of the planet it is covered in almost eternal night, which consequently causes there to be extremely cold and dark. However, the life conditions are surprisingly welcoming(not great or anything but enough to live) thanks to the high seismicity and volcanic activity of the area, which provides both of light and warmth essential for sustaining life. The region is the land of contrasts -snow, freezing cold water and boiling hot lava basically stands side by side. The continent, caressingly called Scylla or Jörmung, is made of two elements separated by inner sea. First part is the barrier reef made of basalts and volcanic glass. In walls of the barrier are located still active volcanoes keeping the area warm and snow free. It is believed that underneath the first few layers of the ring there is still living and breathing lava waiting to break free from the tough and stiff shell. The reef has only one passage through often referred as the throat. That's the only safe way to the inner part of the continent, unless you can sail well enough. The importance of this sea route is hard to even express, but it's enough to create in its name a special holiday known as "Iconmas". During the celebration locals hammer nails into the walls of the throat and hang the leather portraits of lost in the sea and their fautors as a memorial and sacrifice. The second element is the continent itself. It's covered almost entirety with glacier, only occasionally by the sea side you may experience the black rocky or sandy beaches. In the middle of the land there are few small mountain ranges made of sleeping volcanoes. These giants are the key elements of survival in these land as they are riverheads of the continent. It's activity both melts the ice creating warm rivers with fresh water and creates lava rivers which prevent from renewed freezing and provide light. This combination allows life to sprout in the harsh conditions of southern pole giving the beginning to small forests near rivers. The sea(it's technically a lagoon) separates both landmasses. It's might not be the deepest, the saltiest or the most tempestuous sea of the planet but still quite challenging to navigate on. The waters of the lagoon are quite warm around 10°C(for the place with no sunlight it's warm) and freezes only during coldest months of winter. The sea bottom is full of hydrothermal vents, rocky spikes of volcanic origin, icebergs and reefs which brings great danger to unprepared sailors.

Flora

The flora of the polar region is not very diverse but is made of exclusively endemic species. Climate, access to light and running water is highly limited which forced plants to lose many typical characteristics and develop brand new modifications. Everything to survive and thrive in it's own unique way. Common traits of local plants are small size, yellowish needles(etioplasts), and overall similar to the gymnospermea's wood and liber structure

Most of the them are delicate herbs with long vernalization period, perennial plants and cryptogamic plants with wood like structures. Their needles and petals are usually covered in fuzz/pubescence and are quite searing in touch. These plants rearly blooms. The tiny weather window allowing plants to be pollinated and form fruits lasts only few weeks when sunlight reaches peaks of mountains. The fruits of these plants are usually eatable for witches, demons and titans and are rear source of vitamins and anthocyanins

In the polar region there are only three types of trees. All grow in close distance from the rivers and eachother creating thick rotting system. Development of tough bark covered in wax and thermal pith allows them to survive the winter season while protecting from toxic fumes released by lava. These plants are not reliant on skylight or temperature and their blooming and fruition periods are regulated by phytohormones. The fruits resemble fruits of yew-tree. These plants are main source of plant base materials used by locals

Architecture

The architecture of the continent is highly influenced by the climate. The buildings are made to protect owners from cold, wind and snow. The structures are minimalistic, simple, often tall with strong fundaments, thick walls similar to fortresses and with little to none ornaments. Locals prefer the practicality and safety over the esthetic values when it comes to their homes and public buildings, especially since delicate decorations could quickly be destroyed by weather. Due to the constant darkness good lighting inside and outside the homes is crucial part of every structure. There is nothing more valuable in the land of the night than a tiny star guiding you through snow and halls

Titan's architecture is pure definition of the polar architecture style. Fortress , medieval like castles strong enough to withstand blizzards and storms. Tall and simple building towering over any other constructions nearby. They are located on remote island, hillsides of volcanoes or the barrier. The top storeys often has small stained windows as an only decorative element of the construction. The main entrance in comparison to usual open arch commonly found in architecture of other titans are replaced by heavy wooden gateway. Polar titans have very sensitive eyesight, adapted to the night vision, which results in very specific type of lighting inside their homes. All chandeliers, lamps and fireplaces emits reddish light, which is less irritating for their eyes. The effect is attained thanks to usage of special type of glass mixed with gold compounds and ambers imported from other isles. The most striking characteristic of the titan architecture is the main material they use. White fortress generated from their magic resembles in the composition titan bones. It's hard to not notice them from the afar. The contrast between black basalts, dark waters of ocean, slowly spilling lava and opal tower is impossible to miss. Unlikely demons and witches who need to collect materials, prepare and construct their homes. Process of building the titan's towers takes little to no time and effort, while achieving results beyond capabilities of any other species. After all it's hard to complete with a magic that could sprout out any life the titan could imagine

The witches architecture is much less impressive than titan's architecture. While titans style are monumental, making their buildings leaving passerbyes in awe, witches building are brutalist simple and raw. Made of the dark wood, stones, ceiling covered with the thick layer of moss and tiny windows facing alleys and paths. Heavy snow fall forces the construction to be placed higher in order to be capable of getting in or out. It resulted in creating "huts on hen's legs". These houses are very tight. Usually there are only 4 rooms connected with a big fireplace that heat, light and was used to cook food. Beds are usually built in special wardrobes that preserved warmth better. In harsh conditions where they happened to live individual villages without titans protection didn't exist or lasted longer than few years. The only choice are large towns usually located near ocean or river mouths. In order to fit the population on that limited area all architecture was forced to go up instead around. The huts of the cities were built in the way that creates layers of very tight located buildings connected with hanging wooden pavements and ladders. The status of a witch often is expressed by their house location and size: wealthier the witch taller their house is and nearer the main alleys it's built. The worst location to live were flood zones and areas near the forest wall

Residents

A bit of polar titans adaptation to their environment introduction:

Polar titans are in many ways extremely similar to polar bears. Their fur works almost identical, has similar structure, colour, qualities, only skin instead of black is blue. Their eyes are adapted to the minimal amount of light it can catch, a few cones, plenty of rods. They're simply colourblind but with excellent night vision. Polars possess some marine animals features which are carry-over from the times when they were still nomads and usually travel by seas. Similar to our bears situation polar titans are statistical the biggest of all races. To be safe, warm, active and happy. Also the height difference between titans, witches and demons are the biggest in polar region as all three groups fit in very similar niche and extremely limited resources. Witches got a lot smaller and develop brown fat to keep existing, while titans become significantly bigger and fluffier

The society of the continent is quite hierarchical. Not only it's separated on the gods(titans) and their votary(witches and demons) but also statues (titan > demon > witches) witch can be traced back to magic predisposition. Similarly to all isles during that era. The species social structures have also their own hierarchy, professions and titles.

Titans all are on top-level in society, as gods creators of life and lords of sea there wasn't even discussion why. Usually they wear coats made of yellow needles of trees, "skirt" made of fine selkidomus's leather and as the typical element of titan's fashion embroidered ribbons engrained with red ink. Inside this group are separated smaller ones including:

Sherpas - tiny group of titans living on hillsides of the barrier reefs away from cities. They are guides of caravans when the throat is clogged or frozen and watchers of the sea. It is believed that they prevents great floods from hitting the capital and other towns. Sherpas also keep the flame of the lighthouse

Njörðr - traders who operates on the continental sea and around the continent(difference between quennian and them are the area they travel). Out of all groups the distance between them and votary is the smallest

Joms - skilled warriors who follows similar moral code as vikings used to. They believe that the highest honour is to die in the battle, which leads to their quite big percentage in mercenaries. In eyes of the local witches they would be treated like heros of epos and myths who fought monsters and new gods(unless they are not the one who invades)

Jarls- the true highest gods of the continent. They are the core of the city, the first and grand patrons of the towns. Their supervision allowed votary to gather and built everything from homes to harbours. All other groups of titans also falls under their protection and rule. Whole social, cultural, religious and political life is more or less tied with the jarl of the land. Often their birthday or death dates are celebrated like religious holidays

Grylian - members of the "knight" order, not much is known about them except they live in the most isolated island in the continent, chop their horns down and tie their muzzles. Sometimes witches reports seeing unknown boats, nothing like any local ones, stalking them while fishing. Local authorities usually does nothing with it. They know whose these boats are. If they are harmless and don't want any greater contact why to bother.The rumours spread around titans points that they might be form of a cult who believes in the old myth of witches predicting the end of the world

The witches of the continent have the the lowest status in the social hierarchy. Being generally quite delicate and often defensless with their tiny bilesacks in the world were strength and magic is to be or not to be is difficult. In exchange for the protection they offered their labour and fruits it. Witches of polar region are chubby-cheeked, fuzzy eraed and have greater night vision than others witches for different regions. They usually wear warm ushanka, long selkieskin vest , and few inner layers of robes. They always carry with themselves lanterns to safely navigate through woods, seas and city.

Seamster - a sewers are highly valued craftsmen. It's not uncommon to see these artisans being treated with the greatest honours, even better than many officials. Their bright colourful aprons are symbols of their profession and years of mastering the craft. Old diaries, from the times when gods wander around the world, says that witches supposedly gained the favours of titans by giving them sewer's masterworks. That could explain why out of all professions seamsters are adored so much

Courtier - small group of witches who live and serve titans in their homes. Scope of duties is quite wide but offers great benefits and better future for kids. You can always tell if the witch is a courtier or not by their hair - all of them have bleached hair. There is no rule to do so, but they at some point of history members of this group started to do so. Allegedly to resemble more gods their serve. Common fashion choices are also branches in hair and needle coat exactly the same titans wear on their daily routines

Priest - caretakers of temples. They organise all celebrations, plead blessings, prepare sacrifices, keep the shrines clean. Similarly to couriers they wear branches attached to their hats. Also priests wear coats made out of their gods fur, which are collected after ceremonial fur-cutting. Priests are prohibited from ever living the temple, to keep them inside they don't have shoes, gloves or real winter coats. Quite often thier toes are being broken which prevents them from walking away. It's believed that if a priest leaves their temple whole area will be cursed

Titan trapper - "anyone, young, old, rich, poor, courtier or fisherman can be member of the cult. They look exactly the same as any other witch, no special signs. Behaves, talks, moves, works normally. Only time when you can surely tell something is wrong is when they strike. When you fall asleep. They draw on their face these weird wide smiles and will try to stab you. I don't knows what this grin mean. It's creepy like they caught rabies or sth and now they out of thier minds. But somone heard them..." this would be the description of titan trapper made by a titan. It was the beginning of the horror, too early to understand or know anything. But the smile is just directed symbol of new gods, in pure darkness you can see only eyes and smile staring at you

It's not all but hit the limit of photos and will be a bit of continuation

[cheri-translates]

Hello cheri! How is your day? Im a fellow gavin stan but recently there is a guy stealing my attention and its shaw hahaha bt i still love gavin my 1st love on game. anyway on your opinion how did mc fell for shaw? And when shaw finds out he likes mc? Thank you ❤

(´･ᴗ･ ` ) Hello Anon! My day is great after receiving this interesting yet challenging question~ The development of a relationship requires the involvement of both parties, so I ended up discussing both questions simultaneously!

Here are the short answers to your questions, but do note that these are just my personal opinions:

1. She uncovered and accepted his complexities

2. Exciting Moment Date

A summary of the Shaw x MC dynamics can be found in these lines from Exciting Moment Date: 

Let’s dive deeper into each line.

-

1. “Emboldened by the straightforward response, I couldn’t help but move closer to him.”

For this, we have to chart the development of MC’s impression of Shaw across the dates.

Shaw’s first event (i.e. Night Fire) took place one week after MC entered the Winter World. In a world where nobody else recognised her, it was perfectly natural for MC to gravitate towards Shaw despite not knowing him well:

At the same time, her instincts cautioned her to stay away from him. After all, how good could a person be if he seemed to dye his hair in a flamboyant colour, wore a riveted jacket, and handed out fake identities like it’s nothing?

Her instincts also warned her that he was the one who attempted to strike Victor in Ch 10 of the main storyline:

At this point, she was likely experiencing two conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was very dependent on him and filled with gratitude for the emotional and practical help he gave her. 

In a world where she had no idea how to proceed, Shaw’s straightforwardness and self-assured nature likely provided her a huge sense of comfort.

At the same time, her instincts sounded the alarm bells in her head.

But being the kind and good-natured MC she is, she continued sticking around with Shaw and was even concerned for his well-being. 

Within the span of one day in One-Day Date, she didn’t just move closer to him physically, but also learnt that he’s actually a graduate student in Loveland University who takes his exams seriously. She also learnt that he’s a talented bass player, and also talented in graffiti. 

She learnt that perhaps there’s greater substance to this young man than she originally thought. And this led to her curiosity being aroused - what more could she uncover about this mysterious man?

One glaring commonality in Shaw’s early dates is that MC asks A LOT of questions. Just as Shaw was intrigued by MC, MC was equally intrigued by him, and actually expressed it even more clearly.

There are too many questions to list down, so here are Shaw’s reactions to them instead:

In the Rosa Rubus event:

In the Genuine or Fake Call from Seeking Date:

In Exciting Moment Date:

MC can’t help but draw nearer to him.

-

2. “The music was being played at a low volume. But because Shaw was wearing only one earphone and the room was quiet, I could still hear the sound of music coming from the other earphone.”

As mentioned at the start, both parties needed to take a step for the relationship to develop successfully. Hence, it didn’t matter if MC barraged Shaw with questions if he wasn’t receptive to them. 

He needed to take the initiative to “wear only one earphone” so that MC was able to understand him through the other. At the same time, MC needed to listen carefully to the “low volume” of Shaw’s genuine feelings.

To elaborate on the above paragraph, we have to understand the way Shaw operates.

In a recent Ask where someone asked about his personality, I mentioned that he’s straightforward like Gavin yet mysterious like Lucien. This might come across strange because how could such a contradiction exist?

But that’s exactly how Shaw is. The reason why Shaw behaves like this is due to a mix of nature and nurture. 

He’s naturally impetuous (e.g. drawn to adrenaline-stirring activities such as skateboarding, performing rock, sneaking into places he shouldn’t be sneaking into). But he was taught by experience and in the study of archaeology to be patient.

Basically, this mixture of nature and nurture results in push-pull dynamics when it comes to Shaw, and a beautifully crafted slow burn where Shaw has to grapple with his feelings for MC. I’ve done a post on his early feelings for MC which you can check out here!

[PUSH] In One-Day Date, he asked her out yet left her to dry:

[PULL] Afterwards, he invited her to indulge in his hobby, and even asked her keep her art on the wall even though he insulted it 5 seconds ago:

[PULL] In Exciting Moment Date, he wanted to spend time alone with MC:

[PUSH] But he didn’t have a concrete plan on what they’d do:

[PUSH] He made it seem like holding hands wasn’t a big deal:

[PULL] But he vehemently refused to let go:

[PUSH] In Exciting Date, he closed himself off:

[PULL] But relented soon afterwards:

Remember how I mentioned before that MC tended to barrage Shaw with a ton of questions in his earlier dates? Interestingly, Shaw didn’t actually mind them.

We see this in his Genuine or Fake Call from Seeking Date:

And also in his Future Bass Call from Exciting Date:

Deep down, Shaw wants to be understood. He wants to be heard. But he needs someone who’s thick-skinned enough to handle his sharp tongue, and to care enough to understand the hidden meaning behind his words, whether said or unsaid. I’ll return to this point at the end.

And at the same time, MC listens. Aside from asking questions about his present motivations, she also wanted to know about his past, and about him as a person:

Anger reveals a lot about a person’s true concerns, so let’s break down this particular line when MC went off on a little rant about Shaw:

In other words, “You’re a contradiction and I can’t comprehend how your mind works. I’m feeling frustrated because I can’t seem to understand your thought process. I wish you would stop disagreeing with me because I want to be on the same wavelength as you are. I really want to understand you."

-

3. “To my surprise, it was an instrumental - slow, deep, soft, mixed with the sound of rain.”

While Shaw engages in this this pull-push tango with MC while she tries to understand him, she is surprised when she sees that there’s more to Shaw than his bravado.

In One-Day Date, she notices his vulnerability:

In Seeking Date, she gets a glimpse of -

His seriousness:

His quietness:

His kindness in the way he kicked the stone away to prevent others from tripping over it:

His meticulousness, albeit slightly delayed:

In Exciting Date (including the prologue), she guesses that there’s more depth to Shaw that she realised:

She is also a recipient of his kindness:

Again and again:

-

4. “Gingerly, I moved another step toward him for a clearer listen.”

These traits drew her closer to him. She started trusting him without even realising it.

In Seeking Date:

In the prologue of Exciting Date:

She also picked up the way he speaks in the Rosa Rubus event and Exciting Date (and even more so in future CN content):

How did Shaw respond to MC’s incessant drive to know him more? He imbibed the words of his mentor:

He was very patient.

He tested her tenacity in running errands as his informant. He tested how well she kept to her promises. He tested how much she cared about the Dragonfly Eye bead he gave her. He tested how much she cared about not making a fool of Isolated on stage.

He also took his sweet time grappling with why he was inexplicably drawn to her, which manifested in the form of the push-pull dynamics mentioned earlier in Point 2. 

Was he simply an observer toying with MC? Was he simply deriving amusement from MC’s reactions?

And after all that testing and waiting, he finally knew for sure:

Shaw not only offered to let MC into his world. 

He also carved out a space in his world for her.

And that’s when the Shaw x MC ship sailed.

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Flour Cheeks;; YHS

Word Count;; 1.6k

Genre;; Fluff Overload!

Pairing;; Hongseok x Reader

Summary;;

While you understand that some mornings you'll wake up alone, your curiosity does get the better of you when you realise your boyfriend has chosen to leave the comfort of your shared bed despite not needing to. It's warm, fluffy, and soft and filled with the possibilities of additional dreaming and yet you soon find yourself also being drawn away from its comforts.

Request;;

Hiii! Can I please request something fluffy with Pentagon's Hongseok? Maybe cooking him and y/n cooking and being all cute? Thank you!! <333​

Warnings;;

None!

Notes;;

I remember him cooking well in one of his lives so I went to look for it and found the waffle incident instead ahsjjdkfkg. Also sorry I took longer than I said I would! Our parents stopped by while we were doing our laundry and I didn't have time to write like I thought I would. Hope you enjoy this all the same and...

Happy late birthday to our Honk Honk! ♡

My Masterlist

   Sunlight streamed in through the curtain's gap to cover the duvet in splashes of yellow and white. It brightened the room, forcing you to squint while you checked your phone's notifications. With a huff, you tossed the device back onto the bedside table and closed your eyes once more.

   It was getting late. The sun was high in the sky as if to taunt you for your laziness and the room warmed beneath its abundant rays. You soon found yourself kicking the bedding clear off the mattress as you flipped over and away from the window.

   Due to the lack of your boyfriend's firm chest to stop you from invading his side of the bed, your initial roll was followed by another, more exaggerated flop. Spreading your limbs with a strained sigh, you once again tried opening your eyes. The room was still bright but you pushed through the searing discomfort to search for Hongseok.

   Though the bathroom door was only propped open by a sliver, the lack of light and movement was enough for you to write it off as empty. The bedroom itself provided a similar scene: devoid of Hongseok but with small clues as to his whereabouts. His house shoes were moved but his phone was still on the charger. The dresser hadn't closed all the way, catching on one of his shirts. He had been in a rush and yet he hadn't dressed to go out, having grabbed clothes from the casual section of his wardrobe.

   You chuckled and shook your head. Whatever had been on his mind wasn't important enough to wake you up and you were grateful for the additional rest. Stretching once again, you pushed the remainder of the bedding off with a yawn before curling up into a ball.

   His side of the bed smelled like him (surprise, surprise) and you enjoyed the mornings when you could sleep in after he left almost as much as the mornings you woke up beside him. You pushed your face into his pillow and sighed. His body wash and shampoo flooded your senses. It was comforting and it made you feel safe because he made you feel safe.

   You inhaled breath by breath, drifting off to sleep until the soothing scent of Hongseok dissipated and was replaced by the strong, undesirable scent of burning. Your eyes snapped open a step slower than your body that had already slid out of bed. Without stopping to grab your shoes or to throw on pants, you fumbled out of your shared bedroom.

   The apartment wasn't huge and it didn't take long for your legs that were in pursuit of the smoke to stumble into the kitchen. Inside you took note of your handsome boyfriend wearing that ridiculous apron you had bought him as a gag gift for his last birthday. Flour graced his tanned cheeks and you fought back a laugh, biting your lip to keep yourself silent. His expression was both serious and exasperated while he observed the steady pillar of smoke escaping the miniature waffle maker.

   "If you make it too obvious, the insurance won't pay out," you teased. His eyes latched onto your form, lingering on your bare thighs that peeked out from beneath his oversized shirt. A grin formed on his lips as he beckoned you to his side. You were quick to oblige. "So what's up? Making breakfast?"

   "Good morning beautiful. I can't answer any questions until I have a kiss." He tapped his cheek twice. Powder still marked them. You leaned around him to grab a kitchen towel and you found it through memory rather than sight, your gaze focused and locked onto his. Though he tapped his foot in impatience, he was smiling and mischief shone in his eyes.

   The cloth wasn't the softest material so you were cautious of how much pressure you exerted on his soft skin. It wasn't until you pulled away to admire your handiwork that you noticed the towel (and most of the surfaces nearby) was also covered in flour and your attempt to wipe away the powder had only created a bigger smudge. Your whole body trembled with the bottled-up laughter brewing deep in your chest. "What? What's so funny?"

   "You're covered in flour, baby." You managed to force the words out before you let loose and your laugh filled every corner of the room. Hongseok frowned and turned away from you, focusing his attention back on the waffle maker. At least it was no longer smoking. Next to the appliance was a plate of… something you couldn't quite identify. "And what the hell is that?"

   "What? That? You can't tell? It's clearly a waffle. And here I thought you were cultured," he said, his voice strained as he tried to pry the appliance open. Upon noticing the secured latch, you nudged him aside and popped the lock before flipping the lid open. Out of instinct his arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you back away from the billow of steam that rushed upward out of the small machine.

   "What's the point of using the waffle maker if it doesn't make waffles?" He whined, resting his head on your shoulder.

   "Did it make that"—distaste crossed your face as you gestured toward the plate of goop—"mess too?"

   "No, I tried… it doesn't matter. The last resort is the other waffle maker."

   "Or maybe we should stop now while we're only at two losses?"

   "I'm a man who never gives up, baby. You know this."

   Hongseok flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with determination as he cleared the counter. While his attention was on whipping up another batch of mixture, you decided to clean up his prior attempts. You scraped off the goo from the plate and ran it under hot water while you disconnected the miniature waffle maker and waited for it to cool down enough to soak the inner dish. The dishes stacked up in the sink and the small tower of plastic threatened to collapse like a Jenga tower when you added the last powder bowl Hongseok had discarded to the top.

   "So what's the special occasion?"

   "Are you kidding or do you owe me a massage?"

   A massage? That could only mean-

   Shoot!

   "I was just kid-"

   "Looks like my honey bunny owes me a massage! What a great start to our anniversary!"

   "But I didn't forget!"

   "Nah uh. I said the same thing last year, I was in the same boat, and you didn't go easy on me so I don't think I'll go easy on you, either."

   "Hongseokkie," you pouted, jutting out your lips as you pulled on his arm. Your mind wandered when he flexed under your grasp, his muscles toned and strong. His efforts at the gym never went unnoticed. He continued his attempt to mix the blueberries and bananas into batter, oblivious to how your gaze devoured him. "I didn't forget."

   "If I say I believe you, will you give me a massage anyway?"

   "Maybe."

   "Well I don't believe you."

   You scoffed, a playful smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, "Alright, alright. Fine, I forgot, and you'll get your massage as owed. Now will you please abandon this futile waffle mission? We can just have our usual instead. Nothing beats healthy, anyway."

   "Abandon as in give up? Who do you think I am? I'm going to make you the best damn waffles, just you watch."

   "Right, right. Of course. And I'll try not to starve in the meantime."

   He ignored your comment and focused on pouring the batter into the second waffle maker. This one was bigger, at least in comparison to the miniature maker. The miniature (theoretically) baked bite-sized waffles with little snowflakes on them. This regular-sized and completely average waffle maker had no special gimmick. It was straight-forward and easy to use.

   Except that it wasn't.

   Once Hongseok's pride diminished just enough to summon you back into the kitchen, you found yourself also struggling to make a single waffle that could pass as a waffle. None of your creations were recognisable as a breakfast treat. Some weren't even recognisable as food. Several plates of "waffles" had built up, each featuring varying degrees of baked all the way from gooey to charred. Your solo attempts hadn't fared any better.

   "Can we give up yet?"

   "No." He grabbed a piece of overcooked waffle from the maker and frowned. Half of the batter was close to burning while the other half was still liquid. With great caution, he nibbled on it. The regret was immediate. He thrusted it in your direction. "Try this."

   "Gross," you said, pretending to gag. He took the opportunity to shove the waffle piece into your mouth. You swatted him away seconds too late. He laughed, dodging your flailing hits. Though crunchy and quite dry, the waffle wasn't actually that bad. It could be worse, you thought, eyeing the discarded plates. Much worse.

   "So…"

   "So…" you echoed. When he didn't continue, you nudged his slumped shoulder. His expression screamed disappointment upon looking at the numerous attempts which then morphed into irritation as he glared at the appliance and its lustrous shine. Despite the abundance of use it had undergone over the last few hours, it looked brand new and somehow clean. "While this has been quite the adventure, should we settle down with some oatmeal and relax?"

   "You want to give up?"

   "On the waffles? Yes. I'd rather cuddle with you than fight with this clearly defective waffle maker."

   "Waffle makers," he empathised, glaring over at the abandoned miniature version.

   "If nothing else, we've created a memory that will last a lifetime and I can't think of a better gift to receive on our very special day."

   "I can think of something." You knew by his cheeky grin just what he planned to do and before he even raised his finger, you began to lean into his space. He pointed at his cheek all the same and awaited your kiss. Once again you laughed at his cute antics but this time you followed it up with a kiss.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH52

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 52: Purgatory Reunion (IV)

[Player Qi Leren has arrived in Purgatory and started the task: Sacrifice of the Devil King]

[Task background: Three years ago, the Devil of Slaughter provoked the Devil of Power, and was suppressed by the Devil of Power and the Devil of Fraud in Purgatory’s lake of fire. However, he did not die nor give up, but silently waited for an opportunity. Three years later, the seal was accidentally loosened, and the Devil of Slaughter’s consciousness broke free from the seal and began to look for a way to resurrect...]

[Task requirements: Destroy the Devil of Slaughter and gain one third of the authority of the Devil of Destruction.]

[Data synchronization countdown, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, synchronization completed.]

　　&&&

"Oh? So, this martial law is the order of the Devil of Power herself?" a person in leather boots whispered in a sexy, soft voice. If they didn't pay attention, the voice would be covered by the wind passing through the underground passage.

But who dared to not listen carefully? The lower demon secretly glanced at the succubus, facing his smiling yet cold eyes. He looked at him as if he was a maggot crawling on the ground, which scared him, and said in a trembling voice: "I don't know... I just heard..."

"Heard?" The succubus repeated the word, his tone full of deep dissatisfaction.

"No no no, sir, the rumors are likely to be true! There was an abnormality in Purgatory’s lake of fire before, that is, the lake of fire that suppressed the Devil of Slaughter... I think that there may be a problem with the seal on the Devil of Slaughter! That’s it!" the lower demon quickly explained, fearing that the succubus would kill him in annoyance.

"Hehe." The succubus chuckled inexplicably and stopped.

Ahead was a huge underground space, which was too high for the top of the cave to be seen. The fluorescent plants and fluorescent moths covered this pure darkness from their perches on the rock walls, which made it seem as though the cave walls of this bottomless underground nest were dotted with starry light.

They were standing in an underground valley at this time, opposite to another underground valley, and between the two cliffs was a moat-like abyss, with churning red magma flowing under their feet, like a rushing river rushing toward the deeper lake of fire.

"Sir, do you want to pass? The patrol is very strict on the other side, I'm afraid that if you’re found..." The lower demon carefully raised his head and observed the succubus.

The mysterious succubus was studying a crystal in his hand, and the lower demon recognized that it was a life crystal. The original clear crystal has overflowed with black smoke, and there were fine cracks on the crystal’s surface.

It seemed that the owner of this crystal was in a bad situation, no wonder he was in such a hurry…

However, whose life crystal was this? What did it have to do with this succubus?

The succubus was aware of the other’s snooping gaze, and tilted his head to glance at the lower demon behind him. The ruby-like eyes flowed with the innate charm of succubuses, but they were as cold as ice: "Is there a more hidden path?"

The lower demon did not dare to look at him again. He bowed his head to suppress his rapid heartbeat, but he still saw the succubus’ long legs that were wrapped in leather pants so tight he may as well have been naked. After mentally rehearsing ten times, he said cautiously: "There is indeed one."

Magma ran rapidly through the canyon, and the succubus’ smile as he stood on the cliff deepened, murmuring in a dreamy way: "That's great."

It seemed that he had saved his small life, and the lower demon breathed a sigh of relief. Since he had been caught by this mysterious succubus an hour ago and forced him to "sell" a slew of intelligence, he was always in awe. As a well-known information broker near Purgatory, he was cautious in his daily life, rarely came forward himself, and lived a very low profile. So when he woke up this time and found a succubus sitting on the bay window opposite the bed, smiling as he twirled a dagger in his hand, he was really scared.

Comfortable days had passed for so long that he’d almost forgotten the terror of being on the edge of life and death.

Now, he coaxed the shadowy boss in a desperation to keep him pleased, and helped him hurry to the lake of fire. Anyway, he wasn’t curious... Well, there was still a little curiosity. Who was this succubus working for? What was his purpose for coming to Purgatory at this delicate moment? He definitely wasn’t with the Devil of Power or the Devil of Fraud, otherwise he wouldn’t need to be so careful.

Was he an old follower of the Devil of Slaughter? Or..... was he simply a follower of the fallen Lord of Destruction...

The lower demon did not dare to think about it any more. He lost 10% of his caution. He took the succubus around the patrol line, crossed the magma river in the underground valley, and finally came to the strictest area.

"This is it. Go from here and pass through the warning zone to reach the lake of fire. However, the area around the lake of fire has been completely blocked. I heard that a large-scale conflict broke out last night. Right now, entrance and exit from the lake has been barred. I can only take you this far. Next..." The lower demon rubbed his hands and smiled in a professional manner, fearing that the succubus would turn on him at any moment.

The succubus stood outside the warning zone, and the channels extended in all directions in front of him seemed like an ant's nest. He was afraid that the demons patrolling in the cave would cause a chain reaction.

Qi Leren sighed in his heart. He’d never thought that he would encounter so many difficulties after entering the Underground Ant City.

If it wasn't for the fact that the Court had given him a lot of resources and help, even if he spent ten days or half a month alone, he couldn't so much as touch the right way, let alone find the den of an underground information broker, and even coax and scare him into leading the way.

But even under such efficiency, there was not much time left for him.

There was only less than an hour's journey left to reach the lake, but this journey required vigilance. Qi Leren, who hadn't slept a wink for more than a day, had passed the point of exhaustion, but now was both energetic and filled with anxiety.

He was too afraid that it was too late.

"The conflict last night, tell me in detail," the succubus said lightly.

"This... is suspected to be caused by the old Devil of Destruction’s people. Specifically... I didn't go to work because I was with you so early this morning. The detailed information can be presented to you immediately when I go back and sort it out!"

The succubus hissed, and his red eyes showed deep contempt and murderous intent: "Do you still need to tidy up?"

"No no no no, I mean... I only have hearsay, I haven't tried to verify it, I'm afraid it’s not reliable."

"Let's hear it."

"Okay, sir. About a month ago, the lake of fire began to behave strangely, and died down after an underground volcanic eruption, but two days ago, several big demons from the underworld appeared near Purgatory. All of them were the old staff of the Lord of Destruction, and they seemed to explore something near the lake of fire. Since the fall of the Destroyer, they seldom come out, and this time they suspiciously appeared together. That is, in these two days, a low-level demon disappeared and was killed near the lake of fire. This kind of thing is very common, and we did not pay attention until last night..."

The lower devil's face showed a complex expression of fear and reverence. He lowered his voice and excitedly told the secret: "Last night, someone saw the body of a high-level demon in the canyon downstream of the lake of fire, soaked in lava, and flowing down along the magma... There were as many ants, which were crushed by the dark pressure. Then the whole of Purgatory went under martial law, and the lake of fire area became particularly strict. If you try to enter carelessly, you’ll be killed!"

"Who did it?" asked the succubus.

"We don't know that, but there is a clue. Last night, a demon heard a dragon roaring near the lake of fire. At that time, the whole canyon around the lake of fire was shaking, like an earthquake. The stones collapsed and fell everywhere. He ran quickly but saw nothing else."

"A dragon roaring..." the succubus whispered thoughtfully.

Getting the map of this area, he let the hapless demon information broker go. Qi Leren took off the "costume" he had used while undercover with the Slaughter Secret Society, changed into clothes more convenient for movement, and threw the fancy leather boots covered with sequins and silver chains on his feet back into the item bar, then hurriedly walked into the cave.

The dragon roaring last night was probably Ning Zhou awakening to the power of Destruction and transforming into a magic dragon. Was the big fight last night related to Ning Zhou's final death? Qi Leren couldn't be sure. Right now, he couldn't wait to fly to him when he thought of how close Ning Zhou was.

He had to catch up, and he would catch up. Qi Leren shook his fist, equipped the necessary skill cards, and touched the Prophet's Heart item hanging on his chest. He wanted to pass this area of the martial law’s warning zone. In addition to relying on maps and hidden technology, he had to rely on Secretly Observing. If it was really impossible...

Even with the Prophet’s Heart, he would have to forcibly cross the warning zone into the lake of fire.

He couldn't wait any longer.

Prepared psychologically, Qi Leren took a deep breath and strode forward.

……

……

……

The last guard post was already ahead, and [Secretly Observing] has also entered cooldown. Qi Leren’s body was tightly pressed to the rock wall, listening to the footsteps getting closer and closer. The patrolling demons held torches, which lit up the dark environment.

It seemed to be just a few ordinary demons, otherwise they wouldn't need torches to see.

Below this cliff was a huge "lake", with smoke rising above the brightly burning lava, making this cold underground like a burning hell. This was the lake of fire. Ning Zhou was here.

Qi Leren closed his eyes and calculated the most likely way to break through.

The patrolling demons were in groups of two. It would be very difficult for him to kill two demons silently at the same time. Once he failed, the demons on the guard post nearby would set off a chain reaction... If there’s a storm ahead, take a detour...

There was a loud bang, and the demons on patrol stopped and whispered, "What happened? Is it going crazy again? "

"Who knows. Be careful, don't be too lazy. Many people died yesterday."

The ground suddenly shook, as if an earthquake had broken out!

Loose rocks on the rock wall fell down in pieces, causing a lot of turmoil. Qi Leren, who was waiting for an opportunity, took this opportunity to rush out. When the two patrolling demons panicked, he took care of them sharply and neatly. Rather than dealing with the bodies, he went through the last sentry post as the rocks continued falling and rushed to the cliff ahead without looking back.

It was as if a window had been opened in the huge rock wall. Qi Leren stood at this window and looked down.

As far as he could see, the world was a vast red, bigger and more cruel than the scene in his dream. The air was so hot that he couldn't breathe, his mouth only seeming to suck the hot flames into his lungs and ignite his body.

The terrible height and heat made Qi Leren dizzy. It was difficult to imagine a glacier here, because the glacier would quickly melt in his mind.

This hot land made up of hot magma was like being placed in a high-pressure boiler, extremely hot. Even if there was a distance of more than 100 meters from the magma beneath his feet, the heat was like a red soldering iron pressed against his skin.

It wasn’t just hot, it was a painful torment. Just standing here was like a desperate slug on an asphalt road, dried by the hot August sun.

Qi Leren gawked at the sight beneath his feet. This scarlet lake of fire was burning, and a few black rocky islands were baked in it... No, it wasn't all rocks.

One of the black, half-submerged shadows in lava was...

This scene overlapped with his dying dream—the black dragon slowly sank into the lake of fire, never to exist again.

Was it too late? Was he already too late?

Qi Leren's legs went soft and he knelt on the ground, his mind going blank.

There was another loud noise, and the magma spewing out of the lake set off a surging wave in the lake of fire, lapping against the black dragon's body. The dragon that had been lying quietly in the lake of fire moved, and Qi Leren also moved at the sight of it.

The black dragon raised its head and looked at the thick domed ceiling. Its claws extended from under the lave, slapped hard on the lake of fire’s surface, and then roared. In a flash, the whole underground lake shook crazily, and the whole world seemed to be turned upside down. The magma gathered into a tsunami and washed in all directions. The surrounding rock walls dropped stones that crashed into the lava, and the rock wall above them...

The dome of the underground cave, the top of which couldn’t be seen, seemed to be torn apart by the terrible power. Suddenly huge stones were falling, pouring down in a heavy rain that made the surface of this flaming lake more and more turbulent. It turned into a horrible hell where fire fell like rain!

The black dragon stood in the lake of fire, and the overwhelming burning stones lit up the dark underground world. It was angry, sad, and desperate, and countless negative emotions gathered in it, making it roar at the invisible sky—

The dome cracked, and the top of the underground cave was torn open by the violent force, so that a beam of light pierced the earth and fell into Purgatory.

It was light, not the burning flames of sulfur and magma.

Just after the light fell, a familiar call crossed the distance between life and death and came to its ears:

"Ning Zhou—!!!”

Maybe it was because of the light, or maybe it was because of this voice, but the furious black dragon suddenly quieted down. It stood quietly in the lake of fire, looking at the distant hole in the rock wall, which was brighter than the sun.

Amidst the bright holy light, a silvery white light like fine gauze slowly stretched out, just like a huge lotus flower in full bloom. In that light, there is a mirage of paradise at dusk, and countless hymns were played there, washing away one’s inner pain.

In this light, a holy angel with white wings fell from the cliff and fell from Heaven toward Purgatory’s lake of fire without hesitation.

The holy and elegant white wings fluttered gently. The warm and quiet power extinguished the raging flames burning on the lake of fire along the way, and the terrible suffocating heat dissipated with them, turning into a paradise in the light. The reflection of Heaven appeared on the lake of fire wherever he passed.

The holy angel landed on a black rock in the lake of fire, just in front of the dragon.

And the light falling from the broken dome just happened to fall on him.

The earth shaking world had subsided, the downpour of fiery rain had subsided, and the scarred black dragon had also subsided.

They stared at each other as if they were staring at their own souls. One was full of cracks that were on the verge of breaking, and the other was about to be pulled by despair into the abyss of Destruction.

It was at this moment that they were all redeemed by gentleness.

-----

The author has something to say:

PS: They finally meet again! This scene is ranked as the no.2 scene that I wanted to write in the second part. It should be more beautiful in my brain... I accidentally burst the word count OTZ, First explain the cause and effect clearly, and then start a sweet love ^_^

By the way, everyone should have guessed how Ning Zhou died before, right?

-----

Editor’s Notes: Double update today because I think this and the next chapter are best read side by side. Please continue on~

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]