#alter role box

[abyss-boxes]

[TEXT ID 1: “This alter is a moodbooster”]

[TEXT ID 2: “This alter is a trauma holder”]

[TEXT ID 3: “This alter is a protector”]

Basic alter roles again :)

REBLOGS OVER LIKES

[boxesforsys]

This x holds relationship trauma userboxes! Click for quality

[minthy]

"the ship's name should consists of the top's name first then the bottoms so depending on how you see their dynamic"

no, fuck you and fuck your heterofication of everything, the ship's name is gonna be whatever sounds easy for My brain to remember and fingers to type

[systiveboxes]

Introject roles - 26

Flags by @disrealities

[fleshfictive]

i wish more of you would understand that alter roles are just common archetypes of ways that alters can present, and not definitive boxes that all of your parts MUST fit into. not every system comes with a set host, persecutor, protector, gatekeeper, etc. and the roles of host, persecutor, protector, gatekeeper, etc. (ie how they operate within your system and what they do) will look different for every system, too.

and, you don't have to know every alter's role. you don't have to immediately understand the exact intricacies over why all of your parts exist and what they're doing to be valid. trying to force your parts to fit into boxes of how they should be instead of trying to understand them as they are does way more harm than good. just saying.

[rianemorgan]

Title: Stealing HER Fate

Summary: In an alternate take on the Miraculous Ladybug universe, an outsider wakes up in Marinette's world and steals her fate as Ladybug, determined to claim the life and destiny that wasn’t hers. With manipulative cunning, the reader becomes Paris’ celebrated heroine, earning Adrien’s love and the world’s admiration while ensuring Marinette never steps into the role of Ladybug across all timelines.

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️

Gaslighting and manipulation, Villainous protagonist, Bittersweet outcomes,and Character alteration and reimagination.

Word Count: 3,718

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You never expected to wake up in Paris—not the Paris you knew, but a version straight out of a TV screen. The last thing you remembered was falling asleep after yet another late-night binge of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir, grumbling about how Marinette didn’t deserve the Miraculous of the Ladybug. She was clumsy, obsessive, and a borderline stalker when it came to Adrien.

“She doesn’t deserve it,” you’d mutter to yourself, turning off the screen. “I could do so much better.”

When you woke up, everything felt… different.

You weren’t in your bed, in your small, cozy apartment back in your real life. Instead, you were in a room you didn’t recognize, adorned with pictures of a family you’d never seen before. The soft morning light seeped through lacy curtains, and outside, the faint sound of Parisian streets hummed. Paris.

No. It couldn’t be.

You bolted upright, scanning the room. It was utterly surreal, yet painfully familiar. The pictures of the Eiffel Tower, the smell of croissants wafting through the house—this was Paris. But it wasn’t your Paris. It was the Paris of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

You stumbled to the mirror, half-expecting to see your usual face. But no, it was still you, albeit… younger. A moment of panic set in, but the surreal reality quickly overtook it. Somehow, impossibly, you were in the Miraculous universe. And if you were here, you knew exactly what was going to happen next.

Your initial excitement quickly morphed into envy. Marinette, in all her awkwardness, was destined to become the heroine, to wield the Ladybug Miraculous and save Paris. But why? You were smarter, more decisive, and less distracted. If anyone deserved that kind of power, it was you.

And then you realized—you could take it.

The memory of the Origins episode was fresh in your mind. Master Fu would soon be in trouble, and Marinette was supposed to save him. But if you acted first, you could claim the Miraculous and rewrite destiny itself.

The plan was simple: stay close to Marinette, wait for the right moment, and steal her fate.

That morning, your new parents—kind strangers who felt oddly warm—called you down to breakfast. They smiled as though you’d always been their child, and while it was disconcerting, you played along. Over croissants and jam, your mother handed you a small box of mooncake. “For your first day at your new school,” she said with a smile.

You nodded, murmuring your thanks. But your mind was already racing. You knew the plot. You knew what today would bring. You were determined to take the chance Marinette was supposed to have. After all, why not? If fate had given you this opportunity, then wasn’t it meant to be yours?

The streets of Paris were just as lively as you imagined, the sights both foreign and familiar. You approached the school with your cookies in hand, keeping an eye out for the key moment.

At the crosswalk, you saw him: Master Fu, the elderly guardian of the Miraculouses, hobbling across the street. You watched from a distance, your heart pounding as you spotted the scene unfolding. This was the moment. This was where Marinette was supposed to step in.  

But not today.

You ran forward, reaching him just in time. “Sir, watch out!” you shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him to safety. The car whizzed by, the driver honking angrily.

Master Fu looked up at you with a warm, grateful smile. “Thank you, young lady. That was very brave of you.”

You smiled warmly, masking your inner glee. “It was nothing, sir. Are you okay?”

He nodded, adjusting his cane. He wobbled precariously, and you helped steady  him. “Here, let me help you,” you said, guiding him to the sidewalk.

“That’s very kind of you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

You noticed Marinette standing a few steps away, her box of macarons clutched tightly. She had seen the whole thing, but she hadn’t had a chance to act. You shot her a quick glance, a small smirk playing on your lips.

Would you like one of these?” you asked, pulling a mooncake from the box and handing it to Master Fu.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it with a smile. “You’re a very thoughtful young lady.”

Marinette hesitated, her eyes darting between you and Master Fu. “Um… I was going to—”

“Oh, were you?” you interrupted, feigning surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Marinette frowned but didn’t respond. She tightened her grip on her macarons and walked away, her excitement from earlier dimmed.

As you made your way to school, a flicker of guilt passed through you. You now destroy Marinette’s chance to be Ladybug. No. You stole her chance to be Ladybug. But she didn’t need to be Ladybug. You were here now, and you would be better.

The classroom buzzed with energy as you entered. Marinette Dupain-Cheng sat near the front, she stares at you but quickly looks away. It's obvious she didn’t like you when a frown curved her mouth. You didn’t care, you're not here to be friends with her anyways. You took a seat a few rows away, watching as the class dynamics played out like clockwork: Chloé Bourgeois asserting her dominance, and Alya standing up for Marinette, But your focus was elsewhere. Your mind was on what would come later.

Later that day, the akuma attack on Stoneheart interrupted class. You feigned fear like everyone else, though inside, you were buzzing with anticipation. This was how the story began.

Because of what happened, school was suspended, sending every student back to the safety of their homes. You returned home to find a small ornate box on your desk. You opened it with trembling hands, revealing the Ladybug Miraculous. Tikki appeared, her tiny figure glowing with excitement.

You fake shout in surprise, asking what she is.

“Hello! I’m Tikki, your kwami. And Y/N, you’ve been chosen to wield the Ladybug Miraculous and protect Paris!”

You feigned shock, though inwardly you were thrilled. “Me? Are you sure? I’m just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Tikki’s eyes sparkled. “You can. I believe in you. You have the courage and heart to protect Paris! Just wear the earring and say the phrase: Spots On!”

Meanwhile, Marinette couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her first day had started with such promise, but it had ended with a strange, gnawing emptiness.

She vented to Alya the next day. “It’s just… that girl, she swooped in and saved that man. I wanted to help, but she just… took over.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “You mean Y/N? I don’t know her that well, but she seemed nice enough. Maybe you’re just thinking too much about it, Marinette.”

Marinette frowned. “Maybe…”

But the doubt lingered.

The battle against Stoneheart played out just as you had anticipated, though with one key difference: you were in control and you already knew what to do. With the help of Chat Noir, you used your Lucky Charm to defeat the villain and purify the akuma, restoring Ivan to normal.

The people of Paris cheered as you stood victorious. You had done it. You were Ladybug.

Days turned into weeks, and you quickly became the perfect hero Paris needed. You saved the city countless times, each victory cementing your role as its protector. Fighting alongside Chat Noir was exhilarating. The people adored you, showering you with praise and gratitude.

But Marinette hated you. She didn’t hide it, either. She avoided you at school, her glares sharp enough to cut glass whenever you crossed paths.

You returned the sentiment. Marinette’s bitterness annoys you to no end. 

“I know you’re hiding something!! You’re not what they say you are!” Marinette snapped one day after school. “I know it!! You stole something from me!!

You smirked, leaning against a wall. “I don’t know what you're talking about Marinette, you can’t just convict me without evidence~ who knows I might slip and suddenly post this to the internet~” You said whilst holding a phone with evidence of Marinette stalking adrien.

Her face turned a lot more pale than it already was, her hands balled into fists, but she said nothing, storming off.

Despite your animosity, you excelled as Ladybug. Every akuma was defeated swiftly, every crisis averted. You were meticulous, calculating, and unyielding. Where Marinette would have hesitated, you acted decisively. 

Paris flourished under your protection, and even Chat Noir—still oblivious to your identity—admired your skill and determination. 

“You’re amazing, Ladybug,” Chat said one night after a battle. “I can’t imagine anyone else doing what you do.”

You smiled, leaning casually against a rooftop ledge. “Thanks, Chat. It’s nice to hear that.”

But deep down, you knew the truth. You hadn’t just stolen Marinette’s fate—you’d rewritten it entirely. And while guilt occasionally gnawed at you, the adoration of Paris drowned it out.

This was your destiny now, and you wouldn’t let anyone take it from you.

Marinette remained an ordinary girl, but something in her seemed to shift. She began to grow more suspicious of you, plagued by dreams where she was Ladybug.

The dreams started weeks later. Marinette woke up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding. In her dreams, she was Ladybug—fighting akumas, swinging through the city, standing beside Chat Noir.

“I am Ladybug..”

But when she woke up, reality hit her like a brick wall. That wasn’t her life. It was yours.

“No!! I am supposed to be Ladybug!!”

Confused and angry, she cornered you one day after class, eyes blazing with determination. “I know,” she said, her voice trembling with anger. “I know I was supposed to be Ladybug.”

You tilted your head, a cold smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“It feels real,” she insisted. “Like it’s a memory, not just a dream. No. I know it's real!! I am Ladybug!! You stole it from me! You're a thief Y/N!!”

You stepped closer, your voice dropping to a low, mocking tone. “Maybe I did. and Maybe I am. But let’s face it, Marinette—you’re no hero. You’re obsessive, and distracted by your crush on Adrien. Your stalker behavior is not something a heroine should possess. Paris deserves better, and that’s me. I already have the Miraculous, and doing a REALLY GREAT job at it, what makes you think you deserve it anymore??”

Her face flushed with anger, but she had no response. You walked away, triumphant. The Miraculous was no longer hers to claim, and you will make sure it stayed that way.

Paris sparkled under the moonlight as you stood on the Eiffel Tower, gazing over the city you had come to love—and rule as its heroine. With the weight of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Guardianship on your shoulders, you felt untouchable.

That was until a glowing portal split the sky open.

Out stepped Bunnix, her expression hard and accusing. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “We need to talk, Ladybug.”

You crossed your arms, feigning nonchalance. “Bunnix. To what do I owe the pleasure of a time traveler’s visit?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Cut the act. You know why I’m here.”

Chat Noir appeared at your side, his baton at the ready. “What’s going on, Bunnix? You seem… tense.”

Bunnix pointed at you. “She’s not supposed to be Ladybug.”

Chat Noir blinked, stepping protectively in front of you. “What are you talking about? She’s Ladybug. She’s saved Paris more times than we can count!”

“She’s not supposed to be here,” she said, her voice sharp as her glowing portal shimmered behind her. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng was supposed to be Ladybug. This version of reality shouldn’t exist! You’ve disrupted everything!”

You crossed your arms, unfazed. “Paris is safe, isn’t it? I’ve done my job. Heck I even did a good job saving this world”

Bunnix stepped closer, her tone accusatory. “You’ve changed it, I’ve seen it. Marinette was supposed to save Master Fu. She was supposed to receive the Miraculous. But you—you interfered. You stole her destiny!!”

Chat Noir stood protectively in front of you. “Hey, back off. Ladybug’s saved this city countless times. Who cares what was ‘supposed’ to happen and who can receive the Miraculous?!”

Bunnix glared at you both. “This isn’t just about this world. The timelines are unraveling because of her!”

You smirked, letting your mask of innocence drop. You gently push Chat noir aside, stepping closer to Bunnix.

“It doesn’t matter what was supposed to happen. I’m Ladybug now. I’m the Guardian, the center of this world. And if Chat Noir protecting me despite what I did isn’t proof enough that her fate as Ladybug now officially belongs to me… *smirk* Haven’t realized it yet? This world is now synchronizing with me, just like how a world favors the protagonist… Marinette wasn’t fit for this responsibility, and I made sure Paris got the hero it deserves. And unfortunately for her, this world agrees, whether you like it or not~” You whispered lowly to her

Bunnix clenched her fists. “You’ve broken the balance. Do you realize what you’ve done? The entire multiverse is at risk!”

You shrugged. “Then I’ll fix it. As the Guardian, I have authority over all the Miraculouses, including yours.”

Bunnix’s eyes widened in realization. “You wouldn’t—”

With a wave of your hand, you summoned the Bunny Miraculous. The portal behind Bunnix flickered and closed as her powers were stripped away. She staggered, powerless, and glared at you with fury.

“You can’t do this!” she shouted as she was returned to the timeline she came from.

“Oh, I can,” you said, your voice icy. “And I will.”

 You donned the Bunny Miraculous and rewrote reality, ensuring Marinette never became Ladybug in any timeline.

You stood tall, the portal you had summoned with Fluff's guidance shimmered with an ethereal glow, its swirling energies casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the rooftop. Beside you, Chat Noir’s green eyes were filled with uncertainty, a rare crack in his usually confident demeanor.

“Ladybug,” Chat Noir said softly, his voice almost pleading, “are you sure this is the right thing to do? I trust you, but... tampering with time feels... dangerous.”

You turned to him, a small, serene smile gracing your lips, the halo of your presence making him instinctively relax. The effect was subtle but undeniable—your words carried weight, as though the universe itself bent to support you. This power, this influence, wasn’t yours initially. You had stolen it, just like Marinette’s fate. But now, it was yours, and you wielded it masterfully.

“Chat Noir,” you began, your voice steady and filled with conviction, “this isn’t about what’s easy. It’s about what’s necessary.”

“But the timeline—changing things could destroy—”

“Destroy what, exactly?” you interrupted gently, your tone laced with practiced sincerity. “I’ve already disrupted it simply by being here. If I don’t act now, the balance will collapse entirely. I’ll vanish, Chat. We’ll vanish.”

He froze, his hands clenching tightly around his staff. “Vanish? What do you mean?”

Your expression softened, your red eyes glistening with what seemed like vulnerability. “I wasn’t meant to be here, remember? If the universe realizes I don’t belong, it’ll correct itself—and I’ll disappear, taking everything we’ve built with me. Paris will lose its Ladybug. You’ll lose me, Chat.”

The thought seemed to strike him deeply. His jaw tensed, his emerald gaze flickering with desperation. “I can’t let that happen. But why go to every timeline? Why stop... Marinette?”

You reached out, placing a gloved hand on his cheek. The gesture was intimate, calculated. “Because Marinette was never meant to have this power. She wasn’t strong enough. Look at what I’ve accomplished, Chat. Paris has never been safer. The people trust us, they trust me. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if someone weaker had been given this responsibility? She would’ve crumbled under the pressure, endangering everyone.”

Chat Noir looked away, guilt and hesitation written all over his face. “But... Marinette never seemed... bad.”

You tilted his chin back to face you, your voice a quiet murmur, dripping with affection and manipulation. “That’s because you don’t know what she would’ve done with this power. Trust me, Chat. I’m not doing this for myself—I’m doing it for Paris. For us.”

His resolve wavered, the pull of your halo overwhelming his doubts. The world revolved around you now, and it was only natural that he would follow your lead.

“I don’t want to lose you, Ladybug,” he finally admitted, his voice barely audible.

“You won’t,” you assured him, your fingers brushing against his. “But I need you to trust me. Together, we’ll ensure that this world—and every other—is safe and whole. I’ll fix everything. I promise.”

With a reluctant nod, Chat Noir stepped back, his staff lowering in submission. “I trust you, Milady. Always.”

The portal grew brighter, illuminating your face with a crimson glow as you stepped forward. Inwardly, you reveled in your triumph. This wasn’t just about fixing timelines or ensuring balance—it was about solidifying your place as the center of this world. The Ladybug. The hero. The one who mattered most.

Marinette would never again have the chance to be Ladybug, not in this timeline or any other. The universes would belong to you now. With one last glance at Chat Noir, you stepped through the portal, ready to rewrite reality itself.

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ADDITIONAL SCENARIO:

The sky above Paris was a canvas of pink and gold hues, a fitting backdrop for the triumphant end of an era. Hawkmoth had been defeated, his Miraculous reclaimed, and the balance of power restored. The Miracle Box was secured, its treasures now beyond the reach of those who would misuse them. For the first time in years, Paris was at peace, its people celebrating the heroes who had brought them here.

Standing atop the Eiffel Tower, you gazed over the city with Adrien by your side. The red and black of your Ladybug suit shimmered faintly in the setting sunlight, a symbol now synonymous with victory, hope, and resilience. Adrien, still in his Chat Noir guise but no longer bearing the same burdens, looked at you with admiration.

“You did it,” he said softly, a smile spreading across his face. “Ladybug, you saved everyone.”

The words should have brought unmitigated joy, and they did—partially. The world was safe, and Paris adored you. People cheered as your identity was revealed, their faith in their heroine unshaken. Even Adrien, your partner in battle and in life, stood unwaveringly by your side, his pride in you radiating like the sun.

Yet, beneath the surface, you couldn’t quite shake an unfamiliar tension. It wasn’t guilt, not exactly. It was a feeling you couldn’t name, a quiet unease that lingered despite the cheers and celebrations.

“Do you think it’s really over?” you asked, your voice barely louder than the wind.

Adrien’s hand found yours, squeezing gently. “It’s over, my Lady. You’ve done more than anyone could have ever asked for. Paris, no—the world owes you everything.” His green eyes met yours, filled with warmth and certainty. “I owe you everything.”

His words should have been enough, and in many ways, they were. You leaned against him, allowing the comfort of his presence to settle over you.

The streets below were alive with celebration. Parisians rejoiced, the weight of fear and uncertainty finally lifted. Even beyond Paris, the world had embraced you as their Ladybug, their symbol of hope. For the first time, everything felt aligned, as though the universe itself had recognized your place at its center.

And yet, in the quiet moments between Adrien’s reassurances and the city’s applause, that tension remained.

Elsewhere in Paris, Marinette sat on the balcony of her cozy apartment, a faint smile playing on her lips as she watched Luka strum his guitar. The melody was soft and soothing, wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” she said, her voice wistful but not bitter.

Luka glanced up, his expression calm and understanding. “The city is safe now. That’s what matters.”

She nodded, her gaze drifting to the distant Eiffel Tower. She didn’t envy you—not entirely. She had carved out a life for herself, a happy one. The bakery was thriving, her designs were starting to gain recognition, and Luka’s steady presence brought her a sense of peace she hadn’t known she needed.

But deep down, there was an ache she couldn’t quite ignore. She had once dreamed of being Ladybug, of carrying the weight of the Miraculous and protecting Paris. That dream had been taken from her, rewritten in a way she couldn’t change. And while she didn’t begrudge your success—how could she? You had saved them all—there was a part of her that mourned what might have been.

“Do you think she’s happy?” Marinette asked suddenly, surprising even herself.

Luka’s fingers paused on the strings. “I think she did what she believed was right,” he said after a moment. “And I think she’s still figuring out what happiness looks like.”

Marinette nodded, her faint smile returning. It wasn’t the life she had imagined, but it was hers. And with Luka by her side, she could find contentment in that.

Back atop the Eiffel Tower, you stood with Adrien as the last rays of sunlight disappeared, casting the city in twilight. Paris was happy. The world was happy. And you were, too—or at least, you told yourself you were.

“Do you feel it?” Adrien asked, breaking the silence.

“Feel what?”

“The peace,” he said with a soft laugh. “It’s overwhelming. I’ve never seen Paris like this.”

You smiled, his words grounding you. “It’s everything I worked for.”

“And you deserve it,” he said firmly, pulling you into an embrace. “You deserve all of it.”

The weight of his belief in you was as comforting as it was daunting. For now, you let yourself believe it, let yourself bask in the happiness you had fought so hard to create.

Paris was safe, and you were its hero. The world had accepted you, embraced you, celebrated you. Yet, as you looked out over the city, the faint tension lingered—a quiet reminder that even in victory, some battles are never truly won.

THE END

[mihii-i]

I need Jun-hee x fem! Reader like I need air...

So if it's okay with you, do you think you could write about the hide and seek game?

Instead of giving the knife to HIM she gives it to reader who she actually trusts. And reader targets HIM for making jun-hee's life miserable since he showed up.

Because reader will always be there for Jun-hee unlike HIM.

(And then this also changes the fate of our beloved hyun-ju)

Thank you so much! 💕

cuts and polished wounds.

Pairings: kim jun-hee x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, season 3 spoilers, wlw, aaaaa girls kissing oh no cry about it lil boys, i wrote this with romantic intentions lalalal yall r girlfriends but not explicitly stated lol, violence, blood, death, myunggi fucking dies yayyyy I always hated that bitch, my glorious queen hyunju lives!1!1!, alteration of storyline, lots of myunggi hate, myunggi fans leave, dialogue is from my memory so it’s not exact, I copy pasted the romanized version of the song don’t blame me if it looks bad sorry, not proofread.

A/N: I LOVE JUNHEE SM OH MY GOD MY SWEETHEARTTT her and hyunju deserved so much better…now playing — cursed by ari abdul. 🕯️

Dead.

You were utterly dead, fate sealed into the depths of your tomb. Sealed in a black box decorated in pink ribbon.

It was as if death was a gift granted unto everyone trapped in the twisted bounds of this game, rightfully so considering the harsh reality worse than the end of life they’d meet—would they have gone back.

Whirlwinds of your unending anxiety continued to bubble to the surface like a typhoon racking the back of your throat ran dry, sweaty hands clutching the box cradled in your grasp in its shine of cerulean reflecting the dim light. You weakly thumbed at the triangle, circle, and square embedded in a sort of plastic in the center of the blue lid, the damp slips of your thumb sliding off the varied material only to drag along the friction of the roughened surface.

Though your fear should be the first issue lingering in your mind, making your chest lurch uncomfortably enough to nauseate you from the fact that this would certainly be your end. It somehow still wasn’t. Your worry only shifted to someone you held dear to you, far more than your own life. The other girl whose name you’d branded into your heart, pledged your care to despite the short time you’d known her, yet still growing close as the fabric nuzzled shoulder to shoulder between you two in the sequence of these horrific games was the only stability you both had clung onto.

Your gaze immediately tore away from the box as you scanned the heaps of players crowded in the identical teal tracksuits, all bearing similar reactions to their role if they’d been assigned as a hider meant to be stabbed to death by the seekers clad in red. Irrelevant. You were only focused on finding Jun-hee in that mix of hysteria and bloodlust.

Nowhere in blue. That was a good sign for her.

Glancing over at the split of red players compiled together, examining their winged, colorful knives in pink and blue so intently with a sort of sick excitement almost made you crinkle your face up in disgust, head throbbing with the certainty of the truly awful beings that the game managed to lure in. Bastards filled with greed and hatred, willing to abandon any semblance of humanity for the sake of cash spilling into their hands as they’d lap away at their own selfish desires. It was clear they’d been waiting, almost eagerly to drive a knife into someone’s skull and delight in the spills of blood that poured out.

Yet you couldn’t complain, you weren’t any better were you? After all, you had ended up here with everyone else.

A familar streak of sandy blonde highlights at the tips down a dark gradient caught your eye in mere moments, accompanied by the metal of her eyebrow piercing. Your attention fixated on the figure that you sought to find in the unending crowd. Yup. She was a seeker. And thank god for that.

The red vest loosely draped over her torso washed you in a hollowing relief that jabbed at your fear side by side, caressing the unsteady thumps of your heart slamming against your dampened chest through the moistened tracksuit stuck to the cold droplets of your skin. Jun-hee managed to shoot a fleeting glance over at you, meeting your gaze with the solemn worries clouded within her own darkened pupils as she gripped her own box between her hands, bright in the opposing color meant to drive you to your end.

Even several feet away, those unspoken words screamed between the thick fog of palpable despair mellowing the air of the enclosure, the scent of sweat and blood failing to alleiviate the tension stirred by the evident stakes of the game. She simply snapped her eyes away from you, likely to avoid further hesitation in the requirements she was made to fulfill by the knife sitting between the velvety felt of the open box.

Nor could she bring herself to look at the key that resided in your own box, patterned in the same pink and blue with its sprouted wings as a grim reminder to the potential fate you were faced with.

Despite all the conflicting emotions clashing head on within you, sparking your restless nerves and adding to your shaky hands which you unsuccessfully tried to compose, there was one thing you were certain you’d take delight in. The sight of him in the distance, panicked with the key twirling between his fingertips as if it would scorch off his fingers.

The prospect of Lee Myung-gi’s death was oddly delighting to you. Especially after all he’d done to her. And having the audacity to come crawling back like a pathetic worm the second he remembers she exists? You’d make sure hell reserved a special spot for him.

The guard’s speaker like voice, breathy and muffled through the enclosed mask fit over their face bellowed throughout the room, catching every player’s attention in an almost robotic manner harmoniously.

“We will give you a chance to change your fate. If mutually agreed upon, you may switch roles before the game. Removing your vest or switching is prohibited once the game starts.”

With those words, swarms of what you could only describe as a stampede of people ran over to one another in a frenzy in jumbled words and pleas, shoving boxes into each other’s arms either mutually or desperately. Scrambling through the others, shouldering past the alternating flickers of red and blue, you remained focused on finding Jun-hee within the crowd, navigating the spot which you had seen her lined up with the other seekers.

Once again. His audacity never failed to baffle you.

You only kept your cold stare fixed on Myung-gi motioning before Jun-hee, gripping the key between his thumb and forefinger as he extended an arm toward her, his mouth moving in unintelligible speech to you off in the distance. Probably a ploy or guilt to get her to swap with him so he could flee from being struck down like the coward he was. The irony of his bargain occurred to you as an afterthought, for he certainly was great at hiding from his problems, so how come he wanted to be a seeker so bad when hiding was all he was good for?

He never truly cared for her. Words were nothing but that—just words alone. Jun-hee and her child given to her by him weren’t of concern until he remembered, it was simply an excuse to justify his oncoming greed. No better than any of the other money hungry pigs in this game, yet truly viewing the woman he claims he prioritized as nothing but a burden, extra baggage which was leverage for his money grabbing strategies.

Myung-gi was nothing but a plague to your beloved. A parasite that chased her down the halls of pity with that clobbered face bloomed in old purple over his eye. Making her life miserable for god knows how fucking long, especially taking into account that she was nearing her due date. Had he really be so awful he hadn’t even checked up on her in those nine months she suffered through the pregnancy?

“I know you won’t be able to do anything with the knife.”

“Don’t act like you know everything about me.”

“Maybe I don’t, but I know one thing. You can’t kill anyone.”

Myung-gi pursed his lips as Jun-hee wordlessly looked up at him, glancing down at the knife in her hand as he expectantly reached for it. Only for her to repel back away from his hand.

“I would kill everyone here if it meant leaving here with you and the money.”

Bullshit.

“To protect my baby I’d do anything too.”

Needless to say, you had to suppress the small smile that threatened to stretch at your lips as Myung-gi sighed in defeat, along with Jun-hee standing firm with the knife gripped in her hand as he walked away. For a moment, you swore he was sulking from his mind games and heartless promises no longer working on the girl he claimed to love more than anything else, curling his lips as his expression scrunched up in dismay.

Yet that momentary triumph died down not too long, clearly picking up on the subtle body language exhibited by Jun-hee as Myung-gi stormed away. Her nails subconsciously flicking at the rim of her threaded sleeves as she toyed with the cotton gradually spilling over in loose threads, alongside her free hand situated on the domed curve of her stomach. He was right about one thing. She’d do it for her baby, yet she couldn’t normally.

You could tell from afar. The partial regret mixed in with relief, glad that she didn’t give him the knife, yet contemplating her decision from his undeniable words. Regardless, you didn’t seek to switch roles, only to comfort her with each step closer you took to Jun-hee, before lowering yourself at the edge where she was stood, sitting down directly in front of her. Certainly, those conflicting emotions were in fact shared between you two, with Jun-hee experiencing the lapse in judgement of her recent decision before softening her gaze the moment it met yours.

“So, you didn’t give him the knife?” you questioned, earning a firm shake of the head from her as she quietly murmured a reply.

“I couldn’t. How could I trust him over a few words?”

“He did say he’d come find you, and swore on it.”

“(Name). I don’t want anything to do with him, he should’ve minded his own business.”

Her snappy reply caught you off guard, eyeing the metallic glint of the light bouncing off of the bright silver hue of the knife with nothing but uncertainty flaring in her eyes. However, her irritation didn’t last long as she took notice of the bright blue vest hung loosely over the rise of your chest as well, recalling the words that she couldn’t dare to utter from the tensed reveal of the roles and objectives of the game.

“…stay safe. Please.”

You manged a nod, albeit quite hesitantly as your fingers twitched around the grasp of the solid key, carved in the steeled shape of a triangle—to which she took notice of.

“Go switch with someone. I don’t want you to die like this.”

“With who..? Everyone either switched already, or refuses to swap with me. Rightfully so, I don’t know who would want to give up being a seeker.”

Especially considering the seekers had a higher chance of surviving in comparison to the hiders. You weren’t sure what the guards did, yet you could come to the conclusion that firing bullets into you was more merciful than some sadistic person slowly cutting you open and savoring every stab, seeking to taste the very liquid that seeped from the cuts and polished wounds on anyone’s body. No matter who it was or how vulnerable they were.

Suddenly, you were met with the hard leather of a red box pushed to your chest, head snapping up to look in awe at Jun-hee. Her face nearly deadpan, yet hand trembling as well as she handed the box to you, staring into your soul through the windows of your eyes as if she had placed her utmost trust in you. Adhered to you and entrusted you to keep any promise you’d make as you’d wield the knife to come to her aid. Rather than a quest for money, the newly presented knife in your hands sitting before you in the red box was a testament to the genuine love that you’d shared with her, a promise in itself to be there for her.

“Jun-hee...are you sure? It’ll be more dangerous for you..”

“I’m sure. I trust you.”

You swallowed back any doubts you could possibly have, resolute on her choice for the both of you as you draped the red vest over yourself. With Jun-hee following suit as she slipped the blue vest over herself, but not before being met with an abrupt hug of you throwing yourself at her. Arms coiled around her back as your nose dug into the warm crook of her neck, moistened skin to skin as your eyes squeezed shut, to which she reciprocated with equal sentiments.

Pulling back, your hands rested on her shoulders, swiftly shuffling up aimlessly to cup her face between your hands palming the flesh of her cheeks as you pressed a hurried, yet sweet kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll come find you after I get my kill. I promise.”

The guards began to call out to the crowd, signifying the start of the game as blues began to line up single file into the starry grounds swallowing them up back to hell. You could only watch as they disappeared one by one into the distance, keeping your eye on Jun-hee until she disappeared as well, pleading within as you’d sell your heart and mind for her safety.

Yet, your concern morphed back into something stronger, a fuel of raging fire that cursed every fiber of your being, rushed through your streams at the sight of Myung-gi marching along with the other blues. Your eyes were set on your target, knuckles tensing around the firm handle as your thumb pushed up against the wings of your knife, seeking your very own sadistic wants for one man in particular as you sought to have his blood splattered on the steel the span of a few minutes. The day to repent was here. Retribution wasn’t an option of respect and morality, it was a requirement to cast him to his shame.

Kkokkkok sumeora, meorikarak boilla.

Kkokkkok sumeora, otjaragi boilla.

—

Arrays of bright gold stars scatters over the midnight sky painted on the walls in its deep blue engulfing the room, streaks of blood dragged on the rugged dirt ground littered with footprints and soaked vermillion pools. You took it upon yourself to stay quick on your feet, wits focused on every detail and blue vest that swung by in the fleeting dash of fabric hovering through the resistant fans of their speed.

However, you paid no mind to the other blues who darted through the crammed halls snaked in its narrow structure, desperately prodding at the keyholes uselessly to get away. Or the pained screams of those being practically mauled violently by other reds. No. You were set on him. Circling his every move, catching sight of every little step he took and tracing his path like a hawk as you sought to find that specific sequence of numbers in white on the back of his clothing.

333.

Your knife was kept curled tight between your fingers, dust racking the off white of your shoes with each thundering step you took through the narrow halls, hands resting on the wall for added caution for if you caught him. You wouldn’t deny it though, Myung-gi was intelligent. He knew you were after him with an unstoppable thirst for blood, only to be quenched by guzzling down his own. The man sure wouldn’t let you kill him, and he’d have an eye on his back as well to look for any sign of you alongside other reds seeking to split open blues.

17 minutes.

Normally, you’d say it didn’t matter. You’d take all the time you need to kill him. And only him. But you had a promise to keep, one where you’d reside over the woman you loved be there for her to keep her safe unlike the one you were hunting. And you were willing to keep it no matter what, for you in turn were the woman who she trusted to protect her with the knife she had given you.

—

12 minutes.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

Myung-gi audibly cursed under his breath with each shallow breath expelled from his lungs in rushed sprints, sweaty palms stuck against the wall whenever he hid from you sprinting toward him as well. Hiding as if it would help him at all with the sparkling tip of your blade coming dangerously close to his throat with your periodic swings you sought to plunge into him. Not that you were unskilled, but rather he was quite agile, thin frame easily matching your own speed as he kept running away.

You were glad he was blue. He was doing what he knew best. Running away.

But he couldn’t for long.

After what seemed like an eternity of the cat and mouse chase, you finally loaded Myung-gi’s evident exhaustion to your arsenal, using every bit of strength you had left in your legs to push yourself forward, lunging toward him. Kicking back a cloud of dust, your fingers bunched up in the back of his head, squeezing a handful of his hair heaped between your fingers as you yanked back, earning an ear piercing bawl while he squirmed in your hold.

Myung-gi’s high pitched bellows echoing in the corridor amplified with each plunge of the knife you drove into his chest, crimson seeping out and absorbed by the blue of his vest as splatters of his blood adorned your blade, glistening in beautiful red drops leaking down whenever you’d slice and stab him. Though you didn’t want to drag it out for too long, you still had to look for Jun-hee.

Speaking of her, you had to let him know of his neglect atleast. Something he can’t just fix with a word or two.

You quickly lodged the entire blade to sink down into his throat, twisting into the jugular as Myung-gi’s screams died down, eyes red and teary as he gasped for air while staring dead at you.

“…I’d do anything for Jun-hee. Unlike you. The recruiter said you’d pay with your body back at the subway, or did you forget?”

There was no response.

“Player 333 eliminated.”

“Player XXX, pass.”

—

You nearly jumped as you swung open the door, letting out a long held sigh of relief as you noticed Jun-hee sitting in the corner of the room safely. Added with a new person cradled in her arms as well, while you recognized Hyun-ju and Geum-ja settled at her side while she held her newborn. She must’ve given birth not too long ago, which probably explains the thing you heard earlier being akin to a baby’s cry. Good to know you weren’t hallucinating.

Hyun-ju was clearly ready to break your bones if you tried anything, judging from the sight of your red vest and knife, though she eased herself a bit when she noticed Jun-hee’s small smile stretching her lips as you cautiously approached her. Shutting the door behind you with a thud, you knelt beside her, transfixed on the new life hemmed in her grasp in the tracksuit jacket as you shifted closer.

And there you simply resided, in near silence as your cheek rested against her shoulder, with the other two—well, three. Knife kept at your side, ready at any moment until the end of this game.

You kept your promise.

Though that was expected, wasn’t it?

She meant everything to you.

Heart, mind, soul, and body.

A/N: I’m gonna be real I had no clue how to end this fic and it’s like 3 am lmao BUT I LOWKEY LIKE THIS ONE YAYYY anyway they’re all alive and having dinner together guys it’s canon i was hyunju’s earring and junhee’s eyebrow piercing

why does she look exactly like this cat helo

[mis-anthrapologistic]

[long post] random simplyplural inspo

cw: vague s/h warning in the first pic

our current custom fields:

* lyric / quote

blank field for a divider or graphic

* bday or forming date

* age

* appearance (verbal description)

* faceclaim (picture)

* other names

* prns & sexuality

* species

blank field for a divider or graphic

* role

* symptoms held

* activity (how often they front)

* complexity (fully formed or not)

* hierarchy

* subsystem

* relationships (internal & external)

* headspace location

blank field for a divider or graphic

* source

* pseudomemories or source memories

* source quotes

blank field for a divider or graphic

* weirdly specific opinions

* likes

* dislikes

* playlist

* irrational fears

* fun facts

blank field for a divider or graphic

* sign off

* fronting triggers

* reviews (that other alters leave about them)

* miscellaneous

* badges (stamps, blinkies, etc)

* credits

other random field ideas:

* mbti or other personality types

* talents & hobbies

* how to tell when the alter is at/near front

* handwriting, typing quirks, etc

* "this" or "that" type questions (cats or dogs, introvert or extrovert etc)

* other titles to refer to the alter as

* associations

* which alters helped fill out the profile

* stereotypical tropes?

* what types of dysphoria the alter experiences (height, gender, voice, etc)

* kins/synpaths

* what they would be bullied for in middleschool /hj

* "life written by: ___" (favorite writer, music artist, etc. basically, "they get me" or saying that their work is very relatable.)

* fursonas, oc's, etc

* how to make the alter feel more comfortable when they're at front, or if you're meeting them for the first time

* neopronoun or xenogender hoards

* what they would most likely be arrested for

* wishlist of things the alter wants to buy?

* if you're into things like danganronpa, then feel free to add a SHSL talent field :3

☆

we don't regularly add anyone on simplyplural, so we don't have that many privacy buckets. however, we do have one for all source related fields (faceclaim, source, mems, quotes, etc).

we also have a privacy bucket for the pronouns and sexuality field in case we ever add anyone we know irl.

for each of our role groups, we always include a definition for the role in the description/info box for those who may not know the term. ^_^

☆

other things we to do make our profiles a little bit more fun:

* silly quotes or references for the bios! we usually do twitter or tumblr references.

* over-use and abuse the description box for the groups. we always leave little notes, jokes, gifs, or extra graphics in ours.

* we have an info page at the top of our alter list where we include basic info about the sys. we also added a basic dictionary of system terms in the custom fields and some userboxes!

* make tons of silly groups. if you're running low on inspiration, check out those sorting memes where characters are put into certain scenario categories (hard to explain, but do you know what i'm talking about?). like... what characters would do in a fire, watching a horror movie, etc.

* also, groups for subcultures‼️

* get people outside of your sys to leave reviews about the alters to add to the "review" field! bonus points of they write it like a professional review or add "__/5 stars".

* we don't read fanfiction, but if you do, i recommend adding a section in the custom fields or groups for a hyper-specific AO3 tag or something!

* don't worry if your account isn't always super aesthetic. seriously, it's okay. your account layout has nothing to do with how valid you are. just make sure you have fun. :p

[abyss-boxes]

[TEXT ID 1: “This alter struggles, but won’t ask for help. Please check in on them.”]

[TEXT ID 2: “This alter is an apathy holder. Please be patient”]

[TEXT ID 3: “This alter is an apathy holder”]

Some boxes we made for ourself

REBLOGS OVER LIKES

Credit appreciated but not required !!

[whenmemorydies]

The Bear Fanfic Recs

If anyone’s interested in some recs to tide you over before season 4 starts, here are some of my fav fanfics for The Bear; stuff I’ve been back to reread multiple times. Also if you're into music while reading, I've chucked in a song rec for each fic.

I'm not a very quick reader and I know The Bear fandom has some of the most talented fanfic authors around so there are going to be heaps of fantastic stories that are not on this list. This is entirely bc I just haven't been able to read them as yet! I’m always on the hunt for more fic to read so pls share if you have any recommendations!

Fair warning, these are all Sydcarmy and almost all rated E.

The Wild, Wild Berry by Blissymbolics

* Literally altered my brain chemistry when I read it. Juicy codependent angst, sensuously written and a Syd that is so dear to me. Song rec while reading: "Heat Lightning" by Mitski

Fundamentals for the Fun and Mental by @bioloyg

* Beautifully written slow burn with the sexiest of endings. Also one of the truest depictions of all the characters on the show I’ve read yet. Song rec while reading: "Pendulum" by FKA Twigs

Child with a child pretending by @emilybrontay

* Sydney rejoins the workforce as a single mum and Carmy is her boss. Written with so much care. Contains the most affecting rewrite of the events of 1x07 The Review. Song rec while reading: "Coming Back" by James Blake feat. SZA

Soul meets body by @turbulenthandholding

* AU where Syd and Carmy are connected in more ways than one. This one is full of magic, angst, sweetness and sparks! The first fic I’ve read that has literally made me throw my phone cos of the suspense. Song rec while reading: "Hit Me Where the Heart Is" by Mega Simone

Nobody ever got my soul right by seh28

* Tender angst while Syd and Carmy travel for work. Features one of the most eye-opening insights into Syd's restlessness, delivered in the softest of scenes. Song rec while reading: "Trouble" by Ray LaMontagne

All This Nothing (Has Meant More to Me Than So Many Somethings) by @turbulenthandholding

* This fic was a GIFT during the end of 2024. You've Got Mail x The Bear. I was kicking my feet and squee-ing on public transport with this one. Song rec while reading: "Unknown/Nth" by Hozier

Eating for Two by Blissymbolics

* Laugh out loud funny with the sweetest end. A comedy of errors and a food baby named Vindaloo. Song rec while reading: "Home" by Good Neighbours

We were perfect when we started, I've been wondering where we've gone by @freedelusionshere

* If season 4 doesn't give me my urban farm dream for The Bear crew, then this fic did. The warmest, sultriest fix-it for the end of season 3. Song rec while reading: "Work Song" by Hozier.

Like UPS? by @sutherlins

* The most meta story where the Sydcarmy fire gets set off by...fanfic. Equal parts hilarious and sexy. Song rec while reading: "Rush" by Ayra Starr

Don't Wait for the Tide Just to Dip Both Your Feet In by @anxietycroissant

* My fav The Bear sickfic. I don't know how, but this one makes COVID symptoms sexy lmao. Song rec while reading: "People, I've been sad" by Christine and the Queens

Rules For (fake) Dating an Italian by @poorlittlegreenie13

* The Bear x Buffalo 66. Funny, tender, hot and some of the best Syd x Berzatto/Jerimovich family exchanges I've had the pleasure of reading. Song rec while reading: "Two of Us on the Run" by Lucius

Not Friends, Few Benefits by smudged_mascara

* If Syd and Carmy were to become friends with benefits, this is the most realistic depiction of it I can imagine, from its unspoken start to glorious finish. Song rec while reading: "Waiting Game" by BANKS

The Unspeakable Four by @ambeauty

* Delicious chocolate box of an AU fic. Syd and Carmy have a kid and their professional paths diverge. Syd wants to work smarter to provide for her baby. Carmy has to navigate shifting professional and personal roles. Features the sweetest father-son relationship between Carmy and Emmanuel. Song rec while reading: "All Night" by Beyonce

a curious token (would the talkers be talking?) by @sydneys-adamu

* @sydneys-adamu/puzzlepuppy is brilliant at nailing the voices of each character on this show and this is a masterclass in playing with the form of a standard Sydcarmy fic. Song rec while reading: "Last Train Home" by John Mayer

Take Care by @purposechef

* anything by @purposechef/Oysterknife is gold but Take Care gave me the Before Sunrise x The Bear crossover I never thought I needed. Song rec while reading: "Love" by FACESOUL.

Happy reading!

[eelliotss]

— A Curse Between Us, part 2

Bound by a curse and centuries of longing, he scours the universe to reclaim the woman who once shared his soul, only to find her fractured by forgotten memories and a life that no longer includes him. As he fights to reignite their bond, you emerge— a black box of secrets and power capable of shattering the fragile balance of his kingdom and plan, a new variable that alters the balance of his life

“I was supposed to be the last of us,” he breathed.

Will she always be his fate, or will your introduction into the picture tip the balance of his destiny?

⚠️ Spoilers to Sylus’s myth. Reader is not MC, and in this story, Sylus is still a dragon.

word count: 3.2k

SLOW BURN

masterlist

previously:

“I was supposed to be the last of us,” he breathed, the words heavy with a mix of wonder and dread. The room felt smaller now, charged with an energy both of you have not felt in centuries. The air was pressing down on your lungs as adrenaline coursed through your body.

“This shouldn’t be possible,” you whispered. A frown quickly crawled up your face as you hurriedly turned away, dashing into the crowd. Before Sylus could react, a voice rang in his ear: “Sylus, can I use your card?” That small distraction was enough for him to lose you. Somewhat annoyed, he answered, “Don’t bother me with such trivial matters.”

In that moment, the Onichynus leader knew the balance of power had shifted.

This was no mere encounter. It was a collision of forces that would change everything.

◆◇◆─◆◇◆─◆◇◆

He stood motionless for a moment, his crimson eyes fixed on where she had been moments before. The energy she left behind lingered faintly, a tantalizing hum that refused to dissipate. It unsettled him. Another one of his kind? It was impossible. It had to be.

But he didn’t have time to entertain impossibilities.

Shaking off the unease clawing at the edges of his mind, Sylus turned his attention back to the voice ringing in his ear. “I’ll take this for a million,” she spoke, reminding him of the task at hand. Whatever Relia’s presence meant—whatever secrets she carried—would have to wait. There were more pressing matters to attend to. She was waiting for him.

“Five million.”

◆◇◆─◆◇◆─◆◇◆

The corridors of the auction were buzzing with activity, the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filling the air. Sylus navigated the crowd with ease, his towering figure parting the sea of attendees without effort. He caught sight of her near the center of the auction floor, standing amidst a group of bidders. The soft light of the chandeliers above bathed her in a warm glow, making her stand out even among the richly dressed crowd.

She was laughing. It was a rare sound, light and carefree, and it sent a pang through his chest. She was pretending, of course. That laugh was just part of the role she was playing—an act to keep the bidders’ attention away from him and the true purpose of their visit here. But even knowing that, it was enough to stir something deep within him.

Sylus stopped a few feet away, leaning casually against a nearby pillar as he watched her. She was radiant, even in her feigned joy. His jaw tightened. She shouldn’t have to do this. She shouldn’t have to risk herself for this mission. But she had insisted, as she always did, and he hadn’t been able to refuse her. Not when she looked at him with that fire in her eyes, that unyielding determination that reminded him so much of the girl he had fallen in love with.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore. Not yet.

Sylus approached MC just as a well-dressed man leaned in closer, his expression filled with thinly veiled intent.

“That pendant,” the man said, gesturing toward the delicate piece resting on her chest. “It’s extraordinary. I’d offer you a fortune for it, along with a dance, if you’d indulge me.”

MC’s smile was tight, polite, but before she could reply, Sylus stepped forward with the ease of someone who owned the entire room. His smile was sharp, cutting through the tension. “Its a gift from me,” he said smoothly, his crimson gaze locking onto the man. “And, as for the dance, I’m afraid she already owes me one.”

The man hesitated under Sylus’s piercing stare before chuckling nervously. “Ah, I see. My apologies, then.” He bowed slightly, stepping back before disappearing into the crowd.

MC turned to Sylus with an arched brow, her irritation barely masked. “He was about to offer me ten hightowers for a dance. What are you going to offer me?”

Sylus’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, his usual arrogance gleaming in his expression. “My charming company,” he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Now, stop wasting time. The aether core. Do you know where it is?” She sighed, her demeanor shifting back into sharp focus.

Sylus’s smirk deepened as he gestured toward the far end of the auction hall. “Don’t ask useless questions. They took the bait. Let’s hurry before things get chaotic.”

He led her through the building’s corridors and stairwells until they emerged onto the rooftop. The air was sharp and electric, crackling with the unstable energy of a protofield. A swirling vortex of power surrounded the rooftop’s center, where a large, jagged stone pulsed with erratic light.

Sylus’s expression remained calm as he gestured her forward. “After you,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

MC stepped closer, her focus fixed on the glowing stone. As she approached, the energy intensified, swirling into chaotic patterns. Sylus stayed close behind, his presence steady as he guided her through the unstable field.

The moment she activated the stone, the air split with a deafening screech. From within the vortex, a massive electric-type wanderer emerged—a bird-like monster with jagged wings crackling with raw energy. It spread its wings wide, arcs of lightning cascading into the night sky.

MC’s breath hitched, but Sylus’s voice cut through her fear. “Don’t worry,” he said, his tone low and reassuring. “We’ll handle it.”

The battle that followed was fierce. The wanderer was fast, its strikes relentless, but Sylus moved with precision, his chains coiling and striking with deadly accuracy. MC supported him, her movements deliberate as she worked to weaken the creature’s defenses. Finally, with a combined effort, the bird let out a final, piercing cry before collapsing into a burst of energy.

Amid the remains of the creature, the aether core sat gleaming faintly. MC approached it cautiously, her hand reaching out to claim it. The moment her fingers brushed against its surface, it glowed faintly before shattering into pieces.

“What…?” MC’s voice was filled with confusion as she stared at the fragments. “What… happened?”

Sylus remained silent for a moment before answering, his voice quiet but steady. “That’s what happens. The core breaks as soon as its power enters you.” He glanced at her briefly before turning his gaze upward, his expression distant.

The rooftop felt heavier now, the silence pressing down on them. Sylus’s eyes scanned the dark sky above, but his mind was elsewhere. This place—it wasn’t just a battlefield. The setting resembled his graveyard of memories, the place where it had happened. Where she had been tortured. Where she had driven the blade into him, ending their shared tragedy with her curse.

And now, she stood here again, her gaze filled with curiosity and confusion, with no recollection of what had transpired. Of what they had been.

He swallowed the surge of emotions rising within him, his voice low as he finally spoke. “Let’s go,” he said, turning away from the sky. “We’re done here.”

MC followed, unaware of the storm of regret and longing swirling within him.

◆◇◆─◆◇◆─◆◇◆

The journey back to Lincoln was uneventful for MC. He watched her departure from the shadowed balcony of one of his many hideouts in the N109 Zone, his crimson eyes fixed on the car as it disappeared into the distant haze of polluted skies. A part of him wanted to follow, to keep her within his reach, but he forced himself to stay. She was safer in Lincoln, far from the chaos that defined his domain.

But even with her gone, her presence lingered, clawing at him like a restless ghost. His fingers brushed against the red pin on his blazer as he leaned back against the cold metal railing. Memories of her—of their past—haunted him, as vivid as if they’d happened yesterday. He had been so close to her tonight, closer than he’d been in what felt like lifetimes, yet the distance between them felt greater than ever.

He pushed the thought aside, turning his mind toward the storm brewing in the N109 Zone. The auction’s aftermath had left ripples throughout the city, whispers of what had transpired spreading among its dangerous inhabitants. The acquisition of the Aether Core would draw attention, but Sylus knew how to handle such matters. What concerned him more was the unexpected element that had revealed itself during the auction.

You.

The memory of you lingered in his mind, your eyes and calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos around you. You weren’t just another player in the Zone’s intricate web of power struggles. You were something else entirely—a black box, a variable he hadn’t accounted for.

The N109 Zone was his domain, a place he had shaped and bent to his will. He knew every player, every hidden agenda, every unspoken alliance. And yet, you had slipped through his grasp, your presence unexpected and unaccounted for.

He tapped a button on the console embedded in his desk, summoning his second-in-command, Kieran. The door to his quarters hissed open moments later, and Kieran stepped inside, his crow mask reflecting the dim light in the room.

“You called?” Kieran asked, his tone casual but attentive.

Sylus turned from the document in his hands, the list of the auction’s attendees, his crimson eyes meeting Kieran’s. “I need information. On her.” He tossed the paper onto the table, a red circle highlighted one name on the list.

Kieran raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. “The princess of the N109 Zone? Thought she wasn’t on your radar.”

“She is now,” Sylus said sharply. “I want everything—her movements, her alliances, her purpose here. And I want it yesterday.”

Kieran nodded, his expression turning serious. “Consider it done. But… if I may, why so suddenly?”

Sylus didn’t answer right away. His mind was already racing, piecing together the threads of a plan. “She’s an anomaly,” he said finally.

Kieran hesitated for a moment, then nodded again. “Understood. I’ll have a report for you within the day.”

As Kieran left, Sylus returned to the window, his gaze distant. The pendant in his hand grew warmer, its glow intensifying for a brief moment before fading again. It was a reminder of what he was fighting for, what he had sacrificed everything to protect.

◆◇◆─◆◇◆─◆◇◆

As expected of the right hand man of Onychinus’ leader, Kieran entered the boss’ office within a few hours, a stack of documents in his hands and a bemused expression on his face.

“Got something for you,” Kieran said, dropping the papers onto Sylus’s desk. “But, uh… don’t expect anything groundbreaking.”

Sylus arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite himself. “Go on.”

Kieran gestured to the papers. “Yn. Turns out, she’s exactly what you’d expect. The adopted daughter of Darian Graves, the second most influential man in the N109 zone. She was adopted when she was seven into power because of Grave’s inability to have kids despite years of trying, he boasted about how him finding her was destined, and showered her with anything a girl could dream of. She’s the true definition of daddy’s girl. Barely steps out of line, barely makes appearances except in her father’s place or companies her dad to events, keeps to herself most of the time. The only thing remotely interesting is that she doesn’t seem to care about the politics of the Zone. She’s more focused on… well, nothing, really. Just a quiet life under her father’s shadow.”

Sylus frowned, flipping through the documents. The information was mundane—locations you frequented, interactions with key figures, a few inconsequential purchases. Everything painted a picture of someone perfectly normal. Too normal. Well, as normal as the daughter of a black market business owner can be.

Kieran smirked, leaning against the wall. “Seems like you’re wasting your time on her. She’s as harmless as they come.”

Sylus didn’t respond immediately, his eyes scanning the pages with precision. Harmless. The word didn’t sit right with him. He’d felt the hum of her presence, the weight of something far more dangerous beneath the surface. This couldn’t be all there was to her.

His fingers paused on a photograph tucked among the papers—a candid shot of you walking through a crowded market, your expression calm and distant. Dark eyes, straight black hair, and an aura that seemed almost too composed. Sylus stared at the image for a long moment, his mind churning.

“Harmless,” Sylus murmured, his tone laced with doubt. “We’ll see about that.”

◆◇◆─◆◇◆─◆◇◆

It wasn’t long before the opportunity to learn more about you presented itself.

A week passed. The N109 Zone was as chaotic as ever, its underbelly teeming with activity. Sylus spent his days managing his organization, keeping the Zone’s delicate balance of power in check. Yet his thoughts kept drifting back to you. Your presence had disrupted the careful structure of his world and the reality he had always believed.

His chance came when one of his subordinates reported a gathering of high-ranking figures in the Zone. A private meeting, hosted by none other than Darian Grave, your father, second most powerful figure in the N109 Zone. The meeting itself wasn’t unusual; such gatherings happened often, as rulers of the Zone’s territories maneuvered for influence. What caught Sylus’s attention was the guest list: you were rumored to be attending.

Sylus decided to go, not as a participant but as an observer. He rarely attended these meetings, preferring to operate from the shadows, but this time, curiosity won out.

The meeting was held in a sprawling underground hall, its walls adorned with symbols of wealth and power. Sylus arrived unnoticed, his presence concealed as he watched the proceedings from a shadowed alcove. The room was filled with familiar faces—warlords, smugglers, and mercenaries, all vying either for dominance or a powerful ally in the Zone. Desire laced every part of the room, from people’s eyes to the air within. He was well too accustomed to those looks.

The ballroom was a masterpiece of excess and elegance, a stark contrast to the chaos of the N109 Zone outside its walls. High vaulted ceilings stretched above, their intricate carvings illuminated by chandeliers dripping with crystal shards that refracted light like fractured stars. The air was thick, almost suffocating, with the pungent scent of colognes—bold, sharp, and overbearing. It was the kind of smell that tried too hard to assert dominance, an attempt to mask insecurities and project an air of power. The notes were harsh, peppery, and metallic, layered with a faint undertone of sweat and stale cigars. It clung to the room like an invisible fog, mingling with the distant tang of industrial steel that seeped in from the Zone outside.

The floor, a gleaming expanse of black marble streaked with veins of gold, reflected the movement of the guests as they glided across it. Women in shimmering gowns of every jewel tone imaginable swirled past men in sharp suits adorned with subtle metallic accents. The soft swish of fabric and the click of polished shoes against the marble provided a rhythmic counterpoint to the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter.

In one corner, a live string quartet played a hauntingly beautiful melody, their music weaving through the air like a silken thread. Each note rose and fell with precision, managing to carry over the noise of the crowd without feeling intrusive. The sound was accompanied by the faint clink of glasses as waiters moved deftly through the room, balancing trays of crystal flutes filled with golden, bubbling liquid.

And then you appeared.

You entered the hall with an air of quiet confidence, accompanying your father like a jewel that adorned him, your movements fluid and unhurried. You wore a sleek black gown that shimmered faintly in the dim light, your dark orbs scanning the room with practiced indifference. Your aura was subdued, almost hidden, but Sylus could still feel the faint hum of your power—a reminder of your true nature.

Your father stated a grand speech, thanking everyone for joining his annual ball. And thus, the game officially began. People scurried to those they thought would benefit them, greed and lust lacing the air they breath out. After all, this ball was one of the gatherings of the most powerful people in the N109 zone. Unsurprisingly, the crowd around your father and you was one of the largest, with people almost begging to be seen by Darian— the man only second to the notorious Onichinus leader. You didn’t speak much, content to let your father dominate the conversation. Yet your mere presence commanded attention. Sylus studied you intently, his mind working to piece together the puzzle you presented. Your calmness was unnerving, your lack of overt ambition unusual for someone in your position.

As the mingles drew out, you found a way to excuse yourself from your father’s side. You glided to a server nearby to grab a glass of something that, hopefully, could drown out some of the noice around you. The peace was short-lived.

“Miss Yn,” a man approached you. Of course you saw their eyes, the eyes of men brimmed with lust, eyeing you from head to toe. The need in their eyes— for your wealth, power, and body— sent shivers down your spine. Your gaze met his with a soft smile on your lips. “I’m Alex,” he introduced. He rambled on about his business, seemingly boasting about how competent he is. You simply listened with a polite curve on your lips, occasionally throwing in a chuckle at his flat jokes, if you could even call them one. You must’ve acted your part a bit too well, giving him the confidence to inch closer and placing a hand on the top of your waist. “I heard you do not have a partner tonight,” his voice dropped along with his gaze. “How about we step away from this crowd and… get to know each other better?”

Bile rose in your throat as his suggestion hung in the air. You shifted slightly, sliding out of his grasp with practiced ease. You shifted slightly, creating just enough space to remove his hand without making a scene. “I appreciate your… enthusiasm, Alex,” you said, your tone calm but edged with frost. “But I’m afraid I must decline.” He frowned, his smile faltering. “Come on,” he pressed, stepping closer again. “Don’t be like that. I can—” “You can leave,” you interrupted, your voice sharper now, cutting through his excuses. Your midnight eyes met his with an intensity that made him pause. “I’ve been polite, but my patience has limits. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Alex hesitated, his confidence wavering under the weight of your gaze. His hand twitched as if considering another move. “You’re done here,” you said, your voice dropping lower, almost a growl. “Walk away before you embarrass yourself further. You wouldn’t want me calling for my father, would you?” The flicker of fear in his eyes was brief, but it was enough. He stepped back, muttering an incoherent excuse before retreating into the crowd, his bravado shattered.

You exhaled softly, the tension in your muscles easing as you released your tail from its hold. Lifting the champagne glass to your lips, you took another sip, savoring the bitterness that lingered.

“Handling your admirers with grace, I see,” came a familiar voice from behind you.

You didn’t need to turn to know it was Sylus. He leaned casually against the nearest pillar, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. Your eyes met his without surprise. If you were startled by his sudden appearance, you didn’t show it.

“You’re not very subtle,” you said, your tone as calm as ever.

Sylus smirked, leaning casually against the wall. “And yet, you noticed me. Maybe I wanted to be found.”

You tilted your head, studying him with a faint hint of amusement. “Or maybe you’re just bad at hiding.”

The exchange was brief, but it was enough to confirm what Sylus had suspected. You weren’t just another player in the Zone’s power games. You were something else entirely—a force that could reshape the rules of the game itself.

And for the first time in a long time, Sylus found himself intrigued.

[systiveboxes]

Introject roles - 25

Flags by @disrealities

[marshmallowcheeps]

Ever wanted your little guys to show up in the Marshmallow comics? Either by getting sentenced to the pillory or by getting struck in the face with a fish sent flying by Amber during playtime, Now's your chance to have that oddly specific dream fulfilled!

During 2 weeks I'll open the ask box and I'll be taking these application for your characters to show up in future comics! note that they'll appear as extras at best, there won't be fleshing out of their characters, but they'll have the chance to be used in crowd shots and have very minor speaking roles.

Everything you need to know is under Keep Reading!

Head to my Ko-Fi page to get the editable file for free!

Rules:

- No sheep! Goats are fine, but sheep are too relevant lore-wise to just have them show up all willy nilly as cultists, and of course your character cannot be human as they don't exist in this universe.

- By submitting a character you agree that you're okay with them possibly being shown in a humiliating scenario, the exceptions are: Your character will not be killed, will not suffer through gore, will not cause direct harm to children, will not be severely traumatized. Other than that, ask yourself, am I okay with "Mr HandsomeGuy" peeing his pants? if yes, then you'll be fine.

- If you have any more boundaries regarding your character PLEASE write it down with your ask, I don't want anyone to feel hurt over their depictions in future comics.

- Keep in mind your character will be drawn as a marshmallow, which means their design will be changed to fit the style of the comics, they'll still look like your character but they will more than likely have some alterations.

- Your submission will be rejected if your character doesn't have a picture, you can use art of your character, dollmakers, in-game screenshots, etc. I WILL NOT BE ACCEPTING AI ART.

-If your character is naked, they'll be drawn in the default cult robes, if you want them to be dressed in something else, please specify in the Extra Info

- the picture of your character doesn't need to be colored as these comics are often made with a limited color palette, but it's still preferred to have them colored in case you want them to show up in colored comics as well.

- You don't have to, but you can send a reference for your character if the ID is too small to fit them.

- You're allowed to modify the look of the ID card.

- You're allowed to send 3 characters max.

- You're allowed to send child characters.

- Your character might be shown participating in the rituals featured in the game, like the Brainwashing Ritual and the Rite of Lust, keep in mind only characters marked as adults or 18+ will be shown participating in rituals that involve lewdness, drug usage or violence, if ever, so if you don't want "Mr. HandsomeGuy" to be shown enjoying his nakedness in a Rite of Lust, please specify it.

- Please be patient, these comics come out every Monday, which means every month there's 4-5 comics on average and not all of them require extras, your character may take a while to show up.

How to apply:

- Download the ZIP file containing the ID card files and edit them with your character info, there's a .PNG, .CLIP and .PSD for your options, it also contains the "Colliegraphy 2" font which is used in the comics, you don't have to use it but it's there if you want to.

- Send an ask filling the "Flock ID Extra Info Sheet" and with the ID image, you may also send a full reference of your character but this is optional

- Asks will be open from July 14 to August 4th

Flock ID Extra Info Sheet:

(please remove sentences in parentheses when submitting your ask)

Personality: (short description of their personality, are they kind? grumpy? energetic?)

Family: (Do they have a family in or outside the flock? write none or - if not, this is also useful if you send multiple characters who are related, ex: Mr. HandsomeGuy [father], note that they cannot be related to any main characters)

How did they join the flock: (Were they born into the flock? or did they join, how? By being saved from Helob? From Heretics?)

Other: (Can be left blank, but it's for other info that doesn't fit anywhere, Are they one of Ratau's drinking buddies? Do they have a crush on the Lamb? Do they have a disability? Mind you they must still be a member of the flock, no outsiders)

Special Boundaries: (Anything you don't want your character to do that wasn't previously mentioned, do you want them to not be shown eating meat? Don't show them crying? Don't show them peeing their pants? No Brainwashing ritual for them? Or maybe it's the opposite, you're okay with them being traumatized? Do keep in mind this is a very light-hearted AU and comic, the rule about causing harm to children cannot be ignored however)

[nipuni]

We are all caught up with Doctor Who!!! We were five episodes behind with all the travelling and family visiting but we did a DW marathon and MAN WHAT WAS THAT!!! We were not expecting that finale at all LMAO going to share our thoughts about it under the cut for spoilers at the end of the post!

In other news my family flew back to Argentina a couple of days ago so we are back to normal schedule, meaning I have a lot of art to post and a lot of games to play, and by that I mean mostly Clair Obscur!! Been dying to start it, I've heard so many great things about it and I feel I'm going to love it so I'm excited!!

Now DW thoughts!

My favorite episodes this season were "The Well" and "The Story & the Engine" Even though I don't think The Well needed to be a Midnight sequel and could have stood on it's own I'm not too bothered and I'm a big fan of cosmic horror and sci-fi episodes so I'm biased. And the Story and the Engine, absolutely gorgeous visuals and themes, the characters too just consistent and great all around. Joy the the world was also fun, I love the concept of the Time Hotel. I miss the monster of the week self contained episodes I think we need more of those!!! As for the other episodes I think some were fun to watch and aesthetically so impressive but I kept getting distracted by the convoluted and questionable politics, what in the Kerblam was going on with the messaging lmao!! what's with the protester turns terrorist villain theme? the conservative podcaster arc? the Eurovision power of song fixes racism and genocide? I'm trying so hard not to read much into it because it's infuriating I'm going to bite someone. I also don't like the portrayal of UNIT in these seasons, or UNIT in general tbh but that aside, what are we doinggggg 😭

Now for the final episodes I have so many thoughts. The Belinda character assassination was so rough and unnecessary, every Ruby appearance and role in this season could have been Belinda's I really don't know why we needed to bring Ruby back so soon if at all? The ending felt and was confirmed by RTD to be very last minute and you can tell the exact point at which they knew that Ncuti had to leave and pivoted the narrative but I still feel it could have been done so much better. Did we really need to give Belinda a motherhood plot one episode after we established this as a nightmare scenario in a 1984-esque world, and put her in a box for the entire episode hello? Now this is very personal and not an objective critique of the plot but I really dislike stories about babies to an irrational degree so I was not very happy about that whole debacle in the end and so much of 15th's run having something to do with babies and family aaaaaa But!! I also have a feeling that there is something bigger going on with this recurring theme that has yet to be resolved, and it probably leads to Susan so I'll wait it out.

That reveal in the end!! 15th deserved a 3rd season, the seasons are already so short now there is not enough time for full character arcs please!! I understand that Ncuti had to leave for work reasons apparently? but this felt so sudden and jarring!! and listen I don't think Billie is going to be the 16th doctor, she was not introduced as such in the credits and her posts about it on social media are also very vague so I'm pretty sure she's some version of Rose / Bad Wolf and she is going to be only in the specials acting as a sort of in between like the 14th doctor for another arc of closure (I also feel David and Billie are Russel's panic button when something goes awry in production and they need someone to step in to fill in the gaps lmao )

ALSO!! I think reality is still altered for a reason that we will eventually find out once we deal with the whole Pantheon. Maybe I'm being too hopeful lmao but I think those little changes left like the color Teal, the border between Sweden and Norway (Bad Wolf bay?), Mavity, the Poppy focus and flower motif, Ruby's memory and overall mystery, Susan's messages and the focus on family and The Doctor's lineage. I don't know it all feels like it's wanting to go somewhere and I'm hoping it does and Russel can land it better this time along with The Boss and the remaining Rani (speaking of her, why didn't Omega eat the other half instead!!! I wanted to see more of Archie Panjabi come on!!! she was so good) and uuhh Rogue in superhell or whatever. But also I tend to read too much into things and trust the writing promises and then get disappointed so we will see uughh 😭🤞

That being said!! BILLIE BILLIE BILLIE BILLEIIEIFJIEIGHAIOFH MY GIRL MY GIRL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HELLOOOOO ❤️❤️❤️ I'm playing with 14th and whoever Billie is now like dolls in my mind, I can't wait to see where this goes. I'm here for it!!! I'd be fine with her being 16th too honestly!! I don't care!!! nostalgia bait fan service perhaps but I'm the fan being serviced baby let's goooo

[anamericangirl]

I was raised in the church but spent my whole life feeling like a stranger in my body.

I had no knowledge of transgenderism until my early 20s.

I was suicidal and repressing who I was inside, growing a beard and a mullet and acting tough.

My faux manliness got me injured on multiple occasions. My need to assert myself into dangerous situations to prove I was a man resulted in significant loss of blood.

One day, I just couldn't take it anymore and I chopped all my hair off and shaved my face. I dyed what remained pink. I finally stopped trying to fit into a form that society demanded. As a result, I was fired from the restaurant I had dedicated 6 years of my life too.

I started to feel happy. The thoughts of suicide vanished. 5 years later in my 30s I started HRT, it was the best decision of my life.

Nobody groomed me. Nobody forced me to be this way.

Instead I was forced into a box I could never fit in.

And the worst thing is, people like you want to force everybody into one of 2 boxes, labeled penis and vagina with no regard for individualism or humanity. And you call this demand to conformity liberty and freedom.

But so long as you dictate gender expression and force people into roles that don't fit them, you will only cause pain and encourage suicide.

And also notice you were an adult when you made that decision and not a child.

You have got this all backwards, though. How am I dictating gender expressions and forcing people into roles that don’t fit them when you and the rest of the left are the ones thinking and preaching that if you don’t fit the stereotypical male that means you’re not actually a man?

I’m all about individualism and humanity. That’s why I think if you’re born male you’re a male regardless of what your personality is. You don’t have to be “manly” or macho or prove your manliness. I have never said you have to be as a male stereotype to be a man. I have never pushed what you must behave like or have interests in to be a man.

It sounds like the only one who was trying to force you into a box you didn’t fit in was you. You had this idea of what you thought was the one way a man was supposed to be and when you didn’t fit that picture you decided that must mean you were not a man.

The left is pushing that because the left is telling if you don’t fit that image you’re not a man. But that is a lie. And it is a lie that you have bought into. Because if you and the left aren’t the ones dictating gender expressions and forcing people into boxes why can’t you dye your hair pink, chop it off, shave your face and all that and not go through HRT? Why does not feeling like you fit society’s expectation of what a man is mean you have to transition to a woman? That is reinforcing stereotypes, not ending them.

As an adult you are free to make whatever choices you want but don’t pretend I’m the one causing people like you to think you’re not a man if you’re not super masculine. Don’t pretend I’m the one causing that depression when I’m saying you can be whatever kind of man or woman you want without medically altering your body because you bought into the lie that you’re not a boy because you like pink or whatever.

That lie is hurting people. It hurt you because it made you believe in order to be yourself you needed to transition to a woman when that wasn’t true and it hurts children who are made to think if they have different interests than are typical for kids of their respective genders then they’re born in the wrong body. And there are testimonies from people who have irreversible damage to their bodies because of this dangerous lie.

You say I want to force people into two boxes but you do too (it’s not force, btw, because only two boxes exist) because if you didn’t believe there were only two boxes and people have to be one or the other then you would never have needed HRT to be happy. That reinforces the idea that there are indeed only two genders. You can express yourself however you want but thinking you need to medically transition is a sign of a much deeper issue.

Don’t tell me I’m causing pain and am encouraging suicide because that’s not true and I resent that. I’m glad you are feeling better right now but 5 years isn’t that long and not really long enough to determine how you will feel about this decision long term.

And the pain and suicide you speak of is at its highest rate after transition. If I’m the cause of it, we should see the numbers higher before transition and lower after transition, but that’s not what they show. So I would suggest you start seriously questioning everything you believe about gender because some things are not adding up here.

[alphajocklover]

Like OMG hunty! This is like totes, such a fun little site you have here. Apps, charms, and all that like. So here is like the stitch bitch, I’m this super swishy liberal queen but like I’m also an actor. And I’m up for this part and like I totes don’t know why my agent even thought of it for me. He’s this super conservative, awful straight douche. Like totally obnoxious. Crude. Belittles women and guys like me. And like I said super conservative. And I was wondering like omg, this is silly but is there anyway you could make me fit the part?

I’m glad you like my work, though I’m a little offended at how you put it. Calling it ‘a fun little site’ makes me worry you might not be taking what you’re getting into very seriously. Being transformed is incredibly serious business. You’ll be giving up your identity, or at least a large part of it, to become someone else. And even the safest ways of doing transformations can go horribly wrong. Taking on that risk for a movie role… either you’re a fool, or an incredibly dedicated actor. Possibly both. I’m going to assume it’s just the latter for my own conscience, and because if that really is the case… I’m actually pretty impressed. To go as far as to use unnatural means to alter your body and mind so you can better fit a role… it speaks to a passion for your work that most people never find. So even though I’m still a little offended… I’ll help you. More than that, I’m going to make you one of the greatest actors of all time. This isn’t going to be an easy task. I know you specifically asked for help fitting into this one role, but if you’re going to become a truly great actor, you’re going to need range. Playing only straight douchebags will only get you so far. You’re going to need to be able to change to fit whatever role you’re playing, which means an ongoing transformation. Those aren’t very easy to pull off. There are ways to do it, but my work isn’t sophisticated enough to do those. I’m a decent TF reporter, but actually doing TFs is still fairly new for me. A spell could work, but it would take much more magic than I have. I’m not even sure a talented wizard could pull off a spell like that without a coven to back them up. My next option would be nanobots or something, like the kind the Douchebag Revolution uses. But I’d have to get some from the revolution, and then reprogram them… and I’m not exactly an expert programmer. Programming is hard enough, but programming nanobots? Magically charged nanobots? Yeah that's not happening. I could always ask my Uncle’s friend Nick, the devil I’ve mentioned before, since his magic can do some truly incredible and complicated things, but for something this big he’d definitely want your soul. Even the wishing supernova might not work, as wishes this complicated are incredibly hard to pull off right. None of the other methods I’ve mentioned before would work well either… so if we’re going to pull this off, we’ll have to use something different. Something new. Something like… A potions set! Now, that probably sounds a little strange. I mean, considering how complicated I just told you this transformation will be to pull off, making it work with some magic cocktail probably sounds crazy. The thing is I’m not giving you one potion. I’m giving you dozens of them. In the box you’ve just received are a large amount of potions, each one set to transform you into a different movie cliche. We’ve got one that will make you into a hardboiled detective, one that will turn you into a sports star, and even one that will make you into a superhero. And those are only some of them. Take a potion that's the closest to the role you want to get, and for the next 24 hours you’ll have the personality of that person, all while still remembering your true self. With this, you will literally be the perfect method actor! And with a little extra magic, people won’t even realize you’re doing it. They’ll just think you’re a great actor! With the set of potions I’ve given you, some hard work, and a bit of deception, you just might be the greatest actor to ever live. And when you’re not playing a role, you can always have some fun with the potions in your regular life. Why don’t you try one now? This one looks interesting. ‘The Action Hero’.

Ok… wow. That worked really well. I wasn’t sure it’d be this effective but I guess I’ve got a knack for potion making! I’m glad you like your new body so much. I would too honestly, look at those pecs! And the personality transformation aspect seems to be working well too, considering the hint of superiority in your smirk and how you can’t keep your eyes off the delivery woman's tits. Enjoy being a straight, douchebag action hero. And if you ever need a potion refill or anything specific, just let me know. Now stop flirting with that girl and get going, you’re going to miss your audition!

**I'll admit, I think this one might have gotten a little bit away from me. I've been thinking about potions a lot lately, and the idea of an actor literally transforming to fit a role really excited me. I know the person who sent this probably wanted a bigger focus on the douchebag part of the TF, but I got so excited by the idea. I hope you still like it, and feel free to send in another on**