#hunter is great *because* he's Dramatic

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Amphibia is proof that the best character writing tip is to make everyone at least a little bit problematic

[trashmoutth]

You wanna keep arguing now?

Dean Winchester oneshot Summary: Reader and Charlie go on a hunt by themselves and it goes wrong. Now you're stuck in a motel with a pissed of Dean Winchester. Pairing: Dean x f!reader, implied Sam x f!reader (platonic) Warrning(s): NSFW, minors dni!, smut, angst, mentions of death, arguing, english is not my first language and I didn't write for awhile but my spn obsession is back and I felt the need.

„What the hell were you thinking?!“

He was furious with you, you knew that. But after two weeks of being cooped up in the bunker you were starting to go crazy. So, when Charlie called to ask for your help on a vampire case you did not think twice about it. You weren’t exactly a full-fledged hunter per se, but you’ve had some experience in the past couple of years. You’ve helped the boys fight demons, angels, even leviathans, so you believed you could handle yourself against some punk-ass vamps. Not to mention, Charlie was a friend, and you were bored out of your mind.

You left a note for Sam, took one of the cars from the bunker (well, borrowed) and drove off to meet with Charlie. What you did not expect was the case going downhill as quickly as it did. The vamps captured you, fed on you and were trying to decide weather to turn you or kill you, when he came barging in. He took the entire nest out in less than five minutes and set you free. Charlie broke her leg so he dropped her off in a hospital and was currently driving you back to the bunker.

You were grateful to him for saving you, of course, but you knew that he was fuming. He was driving for an hour without saying a word to you and you could sense the anger coming off of him. He didn’t even turn the music on so you sat there uncomfortably in complete silence, only accompanied by the sound of the car engine.

“Dean…”, you tried to begin a sentence, but he quickly cut you off.

“Shut the hell up! I don’t wanna hear it!”

You took a deep breath. You tried to keep your cool because you knew you were in the wrong here, but the way he spoke to you started to make you angry.

“Dean, I know I shouldn’t have left, but you and Sam were working your own case and Charlie needed help…”

“If Charlie needs help, she can always call me! Or Sam! Or Cas! What the hell were you thinking?! Just leaving the bunker like that?! No note, no anything…”

“I left a note!” you protested.

“Well, I didn’t get it!”

“I left it on Sam’s table…”

“Oh, I see! That’s nice! So now you and Sam are keeping stuff from me? That’s great…”

You rolled your eyes. He was so dramatic.

“It’s not like that…”

“No, no, no, you know what? That’s fine! You and Sammy have something going on, I don’t give a crap, but the next time your ass needs saving don’t call me!”

“Well, I’m not the one who called you, Charlie did”, you said calmly.

 He shot you a dirty look and stepped on the gas pedal.

“Jesus Christ, man, slow down!”, you gasped.

“Oh, so you can walk into a vampire’s nest all by yourself, but my driving is too much for you?”

He did slow down though. You spent the next thirty minutes driving in silence and then he pulled over in front of a motel.

“Come on”, he said and opened your car door for you.

“We’re stopping here?”

“It’s a five-hour drive to the bunker and you’re still bleeding”.

“I���m not bleeding…”

“Just get out of the car!”

You let out an annoyed sigh, but you listened to him. Truthfully, you were feeling a little dizzy. He booked a room for the two of you and practically carried you inside. He placed you on the bed, took out the first-aid kit from his car and started patching you up in silence.

You could tell by the look on his face that he was still angry, but his hands were gentle and careful. You were trying to think of something to say, something that would make things better, but nothing came to mind. You just observed him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes gloomy, but there was something else in them. Like a trace of… fear? Maybe.

You weren’t unaccustomed to Dean being mad at you and it was so easy to forget why he was that way. He cared. He cared more than anyone you’ve ever met. As much as you bickered, you knew he loved you in a way, and that he was simply scared to lose you.

“Dean…”, you tried again, “I’m sorry”.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. He just clenched his jaw harder. You took that as a sign he might actually let you speak now, so you kept going.

“I know I shouldn’t have left like that, and I know I screwed up. I thought I could help, you know? Charlie needed backup and you and Sam were busy… I just thought I shouldn’t let her go on a hunt by herself. I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted that either. I was just trying to do the right thing… Like you would’ve!”.

His eyes finally met yours. He wasn’t that angry anymore, but he was annoyed at your words.

“You are not me!”, he finally said.

Ouch.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Well, maybe so, but any backup is better than no back up!”, you defended yourself, “And if it weren’t for me, Charlie would’ve gotten a lot worse than a broken leg!”

At your surprise, he chuckled. Now you were the one who was starting to get angry.

“Don’t laugh at me!”, you said firmly, “You are looking at me like I’m some kind of idiot! Or an amateur! I know I may not have been raised a hunter like you and Sam, but I’ve been through a lot worse than what happened today! I fought by your side against Lucifer and Lilith and Eve and Dick friggin’ Roman! I’ve saved your ass personally multiple times! I’ve been dead! I’ve been to hell! I’m not some stupid civilian, Dean! After everything that happened, I’m… I’m a hunter! Weather you like it or not! Weather I like it or not! I might not be your calibre of a hunter but…”

“Woah, woah, slow down, hunter!”, he raised his hands defensively, “That’s not what I meant!”

You blinked in a surprise.

“Then what exactly did you mean?”, you asked, still frustrated at his tone.

He let out a silent groan.

“Listen, I know you are good at the job. I know you are tough and can handle yourself. Even though today was a bust”, he added in accusatory tone.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly interrupted you.

“But when I say you are not me…”, he shook his head, searching for the right words. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect himself and finally spoke again, in a calmer tone.

“Listen, I screw up too! Hell, I’ve screwed up more times than I can count! And you’re right, you’ve saved my ass a lot! So have Sam and dad and Bobby… but if something happens to me, then that’s on me! That’s my own friggin’ fault! But it’s my job to protect you! And if something happens to you… I just couldn’t live with that!”

You listened to him in silence, trying to figure out what exactly he was saying to you. A part of you understood. The guilt, the responsibility he was feeling. You wanted to help him. To help him with that weight he was carrying. To tell him everything is ok and that you understand. But all that came out of your mouth was:

“It’s not your job to protect me, Dean”.

He flinched. Something twinkled in his green eyes and his voice turned cold again.

“I get it, I’m sure you would much rather have Sammy watching over you but I’m afraid I’m all you can get right now!”.

You raised your eyebrows in a surprise.

“What?”, it was all you were able to say.

“Listen, I know you two have something going on and the last thing I want is to get in the way of that, sweetheart”.  

You shook your head, and a small smile appeared on your lips before you could stop it.

Is that what this was? This entire tantrum? Was Dean Winchester… jealous?

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about”, you said sincerely.

“Sure”, he replied.

“Dean… Sam and I… we’re friends, that’s all! I mean I love him, he’s like a brother to me. Like a big, nerdy, dorky brother I’ve always wanted! And I’d do anything for him, just like you would. But… I could never be with him!”, you made a grimace and laughed.

“Yeah, okay”, he said.

“Why don’t you believe me?”, you laughed out loud this time. You just couldn’t stop it. This entire conversation was so bizarre.

“Because I’m not blind. He’s the one you always turn to when you need something, he’s the one you always call, text, talk to… hell, you left him a note today, didn’t you?”.

“Well, yes…”

“Like I said, I get it! I’m not trying to be a dick!”, he said, “It’s fine by me if you have a thing for each other, I’m glad even… you both deserve to be happy! All I’m saying is, it would be nice to get a heads up when you’re about to do something stupid, especially if I’m the one who’s gonna end up having to save you!”.

“Dean Winchester, I promise you I’m not trying to screw your brother!”, you yelled out,

“The reason I left him a note and not you is because I knew you were going to act like this! You would tell me to turn my ass around and come back home and if I didn’t you would come to get me, just like you did! And THEN you would yell at me just like you did! I’m not picking favourites, it’s just that Sam is easier to deal with sometimes, that’s all!”

“Oh, so I’m difficult to deal with, is that it?”

“Hell yes, you are!”

“So why do you keep dealing with me?”

“Oh, you’re such a damn idiot!”, you stood up from the bed in exasperation.

It was a mistake. The blood rushed to your brain, and you swerved on your feet. He jumped up and grabbed your shoulders with jungle cat-like reflexes. The look on his face went from irritated to worried in a matter of a second. It made you want to chuckle, but you held it in.

Goddamn, did you love this man.

“I’m fine, I’m fine”, you said quickly.

His eyes and voice both softened as he tried to get you back on the bed,

“Maybe you should get some rest. We can keep arguing in the morning”.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Why do you want to keep arguing with me?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, that’s the last thing I want to do with you”.

Your heart stopped for a second. Your eyes widened and you looked at him in shock.

“Excuse you?”

He let out another sigh and tried to sit you down once again.

“Nothing, just go to sleep”.

“No, no, no, I don’t think so”, you said, shaking your head and turning around to face him, “What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying crap. Don’t pay attention to it”.

But you wouldn’t let go. It’s been months since you first started noticing the change in Dean’s behaviour towards you. When you first met, he annoyed you so much and as far as you could tell, the feeling was mutual. You really were closer with Sam for a long time and the only reason you tolerated Dean was because he was his brother. And because well, he did save your life a couple of times. But then you died and came back and Dean, well… changed. You thought it was because of the guilt he felt over your death. Metatron did kill you because of your involvement with the Winchesters.

But it wasn’t just the guilt. You two started going on hunts together, he trusted you, he talked to you and looked at you like he’s never done before. You started suspecting he might have developed feelings for you that were more than just friendship, but there wasn’t an opportunity to bring it up. And you wanted to bring it up. You wanted to bring it up so badly.

“No!”, you protested and looked directly into his eyes, “What did you mean? What do you want to do with me?”, you asked, almost teasingly, but with a genuine desire to receive an answer.

He noticed the change in your tone and his eyes twinkled. His hands were still gently resting on your shoulders, making sure you don’t swerve again. He raised one of them and slowly brought his fingers up to caress your cheek. His touch was soft and warm, but it made a shiver go down your spine as if you were touched by lightning. You raised up your hand and gently placed it on his in affirmation. A small smile escaped both of your lips’.

You were still glaring into his eyes, waiting for him. Finally, his hand cupped your cheek and he brought his face to yours, slowly pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was deep and gentle and warm, and it left you feeling breathless. You pulled him closer to you, running your fingers through his hair. He responded in the same way, sliding his hands down your waist and grabbing your thighs to lift you off the ground. You locked your legs around him as he carried you over to the table that was placed in the middle of the room.

He placed you on the table as his hands began exploring every inch of your body, his lips never leaving yours. Before you could even form a coherent thought, his hands were all up in your hair, over your chest, your thighs… In the moment they reached between your legs you let out a soft moan and arched your back, leaving your neck so beautifully exposed to him. He took advantage of that and moved his lips down to your collarbone, gently kissing and sucking on it. You pulled him even closer and moaned again. His scent was everywhere. He was everywhere. And it wasn’t enough.

You started to unbutton your plaid shirt but his fingers were quicker than yours.

You smiled at his impatience.

“It’s okay, the buttons won’t run away”, you said.

“I wish they would”, he muttered, making you laugh joyfully.

He smiled and kissed you again, unbuttoning your shirt completely and taking it off you in one fell swoop.

You tried to unbutton his now, but he was already out of it before you could even try.

“God”, you teased him, “You’re so impatient!”

“You have no idea”, he groaned, lifting you up again and crashing you both onto the bed.

He was placing hungry kisses all over your chest and stomach. His fingers then reached down to unbutton your jeans and you shivered in excitement as he slowly pulled them off you.

“Open your legs for me, sweetheart”, he said in a low tone, his eyes looking up to you as they were glistening with excitement and desire.

You bit your lip as you felt another shiver go down your spine.

“Open them”, he repeated.

You did what he asked, slowly spreading your legs as you felt the wetness and the pulsating sensation coming from between.

He gently moved the fabric of your underwear to a side, exposing you to him. His hungry eyes met yours once again as he gave you a soft kiss right between your thighs. You arched your back slightly and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him closer as he kissed and licked and sucked.

“These are getting in the way”, he said quietly and finally took off your panties.

You couldn’t help yourself and another moan left your lips, much louder this time. This encouraged him to go faster as you were becoming a moaning mess underneath his tongue. The pressure started building and building and building… and then he suddenly pulled away.

You widened your eyes in shock, desperate to pull him back down, but he pulled you up instead.

“I’m not done with you yet”, he said quietly as his breath tickled your ear.

You groaned in frustration.

“Now who’s impatient?”, he asked with a teasing smile.

“God, you’re so mean!”, you said.

“We’ll see about that”, he said as he reached down between your legs again and started rubbing your clit. He then slowly pushed one finger inside of you, stretching you out and earning another moan from you.

“Oh, God”, you whispered.

“You like that?”, he asked and added another finger.

You moaned again in response.

“Am I still mean?”

“Yes, you are!”, you responded.

He pushed you back on the bed while placing himself on top of you. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. You reached out and gently cupped the growing bulge in his boxers making him groan quietly. You gasped in excitement. He was so hard.

He noticed your reaction and smiled.

“You see how hard I am for you?”

You bit your lip and nodded. Then you slowly pulled down his boxers and took him into your hands.

You’ve imagined him like this countless times, but you were still pleasantly surprised to see how big he was. You gripped him firmly and began to stroke his shaft as he groaned again.

You licked the tip and then put the rest of his length into your mouth, gently sucking on it. He moaned and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer.

You sucked harder causing him to cuss and moan again. You loved the sound of it. Your fingers found their way between your legs, and you began touching yourself as you sucked him off.

He seemed to like that even more and by the sounds he was making you could tell he was close.

“You’re going to need to slow down, sweetheart”, he said in a hoarse voice, “Or I’m going to cum without even being inside you first”.

You sucked on him a couple more times but then you let go. He pulled you up to kiss you, but you just pushed him down to the bed and climbed on top of him. His eyes widened in excitement as you guided his length to your entrance and slowly began to ride him.

You loved seeing him like this, messy and desperate for your touch. He gripped your thighs and moaned your name, his eyes staring deep into yours, begging you to fuck him harder.

You gave him what he wished for and began moving your hips faster and faster as you both cussed and groaned.

“Yes, yes”, he was whispering between the moans, “That’s it, ride me baby, please!”.

You were so close, and by the looks of it, so was he. You gripped each other closer as the pressure was building once again. You pulled his face close to your chest as he was about to come and finally, reached the so very anticipated release.

You held each other like that for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breaths and then you finally laid back in the bed.

He pulled you close to him as you buried your face into his neck, just breathing in his scent. You were laying like that in silence for a little while, not really knowing what to say. Not really needing to say anything. Until he finally started chuckling like a little kid.

“What?”, you raised your eyes to him. “Well, do you wanna keep arguing now?”, he asked with a grin. You laughed too. “Oh, definitely! Just let me get some water first”.

[sweet-s0rr0w]

in the greek tradition

a little something silly for @peachydreamxx, after our chat about statues in British stately homes! with art by the lovely @faiell!😘

***

“Malfoy! Oi, Malfoy!”

Weasley’s shout is unexpected and yet somehow typically obnoxious, shattering the end-of-summer stillness as effectively as a Bludger through a window. Draco closes his novel carefully around a finger, optimistically keeping the page. “What is it?” he hisses – via Patronus, of course, since he refuses to screech back across the Manor’s gardens like an oik.

Of course, Weasley doesn’t get the hint. “Malfoy!” he bellows again, from somewhere behind the box hedge, sounding ominously full of mirth. “C’mere a moment, would you?”

Playing to an imaginary audience, Draco rolls his eyes heavenwards, testing the weight of his book in his hand and briefly considering the merits of telling Weasley to fuck off. Of course, in the end his curiosity gets the better of him, and so with a beleaguered sigh he gets to his feet and follows the sound of laughter all the way down to the herbaceous garden, where Potter and Weasley are loitering incongruously, their Auror uniforms a garish blood-red amongst the muted pastels of the foxgloves.

“Course your Patronus is a bloody great swan,” says Weasley, stating the obvious as usual, yet grinning away like he’s told the world’s funniest joke.

Beside him, Potter looks a bit sheepish. “Alright, Malfoy?” he asks, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“What’s going on?” asks Draco, determinedly ignoring their antics.

“Right, yeah,” says Weasley, tugging his hand out of his pocket to gesture roughly past the alliums. “What we were wondering was – who’s this guy?”

Draco follows his gaze – and – ah. Weasley’s talking about the sculpture, then. The very striking, very buff, very naked marble sculpture, which towers over the garden with his wand caught dramatically mid-flourish, his head thrown back, and his eyes closed in some kind of ecstasy. Draco probably should have realised sooner, what with all the time he’d spent alone in the herbaceous garden as a sexually frustrated teen.

“What?” he asks, having now forgotten the question entirely.

“Because, right, I reckon it’s some ancient hero. Like Merlin, or something–”

“Really, Weasley? You think that’s what Merlin looked like?”

“–but Harry says it must be a Malfoy.”

Draco blinks.

 “The hair,” Potter says, quickly. “It’s the same as – you know, you’ve all got all that, like, loose, flowy, glossy… you know. Also,” he adds, “no offense, but having a sculpture of yourself in your own garden seems like kind of a Malfoy thing to do.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “Plus you’re all dramatic as fuck. So who’s right?”

Draco considered the statue for a moment: even moss-stained and weather-worn, it did have excellent hair. Also, pleasingly muscular thighs. “Potter’s right,” he’s forced to admit – at this moment, his second least favourite phrase. “This is a young Xanthus Malfoy the second. An excellent hunter, by all accounts, and one of the last Malfoys to sit in the… what?” he demands, interrupting Weasley, who’s giving Potter what can only be described as a meaningful look. “What’s going on? Why are you both giggling?”

Weasley says nothing. His ears are turning pink: Draco hopes he’s getting sunburnt.

“Well,” begins Potter, nodding vaguely back towards the statue. “We were just saying that he’s… well. That he’s – that it’s a little–”

“You got that right,” Weasley mutters.

“What?”

Potter presses his lips together, avoiding Draco’s gaze. “Well,” he says, delicately. “The thing is. While I’m sure he was an excellent hunter, this particular Malfoy seems to be, well. Lacking something. Deficient, you might say. In one certain – area.”

“His cock, Malfoy,” Weasley adds, helpfully. “His cock’s miniscule, and while we’re at it, his bollocks aren’t much to write home about either. The whole package’s rather… unfortunate, I’d say. What’s going on? Are micropenises a family trait, or did they just run out of stone?”

“Marble,” Draco says, faintly. “It’s marble. And by the way, you two are children.”

“Come on, Malfoy,” says Potter, grinning. “You can’t pretend you hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s deliberate, you philistine! It’s sculpted in the fucking Greek tradition!”

“Right.”

“And while we’re at it, it’s symbolic! The… diminutive penis represents mastery over one’s baser instincts. The triumph of intellectualism over… animalistic urges.”

Weasley frowns. “What you on about now?”

“I think, Ron,” Potter says, “that what Malfoy’s suggesting is that the bigger the dick, the stupider the man. Explains a lot, you know.” He smirks, eyeing Weasley in a manner that makes Draco’s brain feel like it may be the wrong size for his skull.

“Oi,” Weasley laughs, reaching out gleefully to whack Potter, who dodges sideways, then turns his ankle on the edge of a flowerbed and falls neatly into a lavender bush.

“It half makes sense,” Weasley says, offering Potter a hand to tug himself up. “The tiny prick thing. I mean, Malfoy certainly thinks he’s clever.”

“He does,” Potter chokes out, clearly on the verge of hysteria. Draco throws up his arms in frustration.

“For Merlin’s sake, Weasley!” he cries, as Potter wobbles dangerously close to the ornamental fountain. “Just because the statue’s got a–”

“It’s alright, Malfoy,” Weasley cuts in, soothingly. “I’ve heard some people are into that kind of thing. Tiny dicks, I mean.” He turns back to Potter, voice strained. “Not that I’ve met any, obviously.”

“I don’t have a tiny dick!” Draco cries, outraged. “I’ll prove it! I’ll show you both! I’ll show you both right fucking now–”

It’s unfair, and unconscionable, and somehow Draco’s hand is down his pants before he can even help himself, and that’s when Weasley finally stops laughing. “Alright, alright!” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Keep your fancy knickers on, Malfoy. We believe you. Right, Harry?”

Potter’s not laughing either, now, and he doesn’t reply; he’s too busy staring, as, jaw set, and mustering all the dignity he can manage, Draco releases his grip on his (perfectly decent sized) penis, and slides his hand carefully out from beneath his waistband. He glares at them both, tugging his robe tightly shut.

“Right?” Weasley repeats, louder this time. “We don’t need to see proof, eh, Harry?”

Potter’s eyes are still fixed on a point somewhere below Draco’s navel, and his cheeks are now stained a most fetching pink. The sun is rather strong today, Draco thinks, feeling his own face heating.

“Harry?”

***

tons of thanks to @tackytigerfic for looking it over 😘

[perlukafarinn]

Usually when Claire works the closing shift at Rocky's, she and Dean will wind down with a couple of beers at the end of the night. It's a nice little ritual Claire looks forward to every time she comes around, though she'd never admit as much out loud.

Tonight, Dean has mixed up a batch of one of his specialty cocktails - The Queen of Moondoor. It's bright, a sort of red-orange color, and has a sweet and sour taste that makes Claire's jaw ache.

"Do you like it?" Dean asks, like Claire's opinion really matters.

She nods. "It's good."

She's not lying. Dean isn't really a cocktails kind of guy but he's put a lot of effort into every detail of Rocky's. From the various pride flags carefully hung behind the bar, to the salt painted into the windowsills, every inch of the place is meticulously planned out. Rocky's isn't officially a hunter's bar - though it is explicitly a gay bar - but it's become an unofficial gathering place of queer hunters across the continental US.

Even the cocktails on the menu are Dean's own invention. All of them have a backstory, some of which Claire isn't privy to. She knows enough to understand why the Queen of Moondoor is Dean's personal favorite, though.

It also packs a surprising punch. Two drinks in, and Claire already feels herself tilting from tipsy into full-on drunk. She slows down her pace.

"How long are you planning on sticking around now?" Dean asks, because free booze is never just free booze with him. There's always the interrogation. He's almost as much of a mom as Jody is.

"A few days," Claire answers vaguely. "Maybe longer, who knows. I don't have any hunts lined up right now and you pay pretty well."

She knows for a fact he pays her double what he does his other bartenders. Neither one of them ever mentions it, though.

"Weren't you heading back to Jody's?"

Claire shrugs, uncomfortable. She had been, before last night's call with Kaia. They're good most days, even with the strain of Claire being on the road half the time, but sometimes when they talk, they'll hit on a sore topic for one of them and things will get stilted.

The anniversary of Mom's death is coming up in a couple of weeks. Kaia wanted to join Claire for her visit to the cemetery.

"What's on your mind, Strawberry Shortcake?"

Claire is supposed to roll her eyes now. Tell Dean to fuck off and mind his own business.

She doesn't really want to do that. But she doesn't know how to explain to Dean what she's feeling, either.

"It's stupid," she says. "I'm being dramatic."

"You? Never."

Claire scoffs, and Dean's eyes soften.

"You can talk to me, you know."

"Yeah," Claire says, because she does. He gets her, weirdly enough. They get each other. It probably doesn't say great things about either of them. "I just... I feel like I'm making up problems."

Dean takes a sip of his drink. It's difficult to look dignified, drinking out of a straw, and he does not remotely manage it. "Let me be the judge of that."

"Kaia wants-" Claire stops herself, because that's not the point of it. "I - we're good. Me and Kaia. I don't feel ashamed about it."

Dean waits for her continue.

"I'm a lesbian," Claire adds, even though, duh.

"Congrats," Dean says, and it feels like it could be sarcastic but it's not. He means it.

"I don't think -" no, that's not right. "I know my parents wouldn't be okay with that."

The statement lands heavily between them. It feels bitter on Claire's tongue, an ugly truth held at bay for far too long. She feels awful saying it, like she's failing her parents. Speaking ill of the dead. But it's the truth.

Mom and Dad would make these... comments. And Claire remembers each one with perfect clarity, because she's known something was different about her for a very long time. She knew those comments were aimed at her, even if her parents didn't.

They were wonderful parents in every other aspect. Up until they abandoned her, that is. Claire still can't help but feel like she's failing them, sometimes, being who she is.

"They might have changed their minds," Dean offers. "If they'd known. It's different when it's your own kid."

Claire eyes him, curious. "Was it different for your parents?"

Something crosses over Dean's expression, too quickly for Claire to catch it.

"No," he admits after a beat. He runs his hand over his face. "Maybe - Mom might have been fine with it. She didn't know."

Claire swallows. "But your dad did. And it wasn't different."

She feels cruel, pushing the topic. But there's some perverse part of her that needs the confirmation. Dean reminds her of herself, in a lot of ways. He'd say it was the other way around. If he experienced the rejection that Claire feared as a kid, the one that still scares her even if it's purely theoretical now, then that proves something.

"It wasn't," Dean admits. "But Jimmy Novak was no John Winchester."

Claire's chest aches. There's some hollow triumph at the abstract confirmation of her worst fears. Mostly, she just feels like shit.

"For what it's worth," Dean adds, "I think you're perfect. No notes."

Embarrassingly, Claire's lower lip wobbles. She clears her throat, looking off to the side as she tries to regain her composure.

"You think you're my dad or something?" she asks, voice rough.

Dean shrugs, looking embarrassed himself. "I kind of think of you as my kid, yeah. If that's okay."

Claire crosses her arms, feeling warm and aching and off-kilter. "I - yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

[magnagaruzenmon]

Merry Axemas

Oh Dino! Oh Dino! or should I say Great Demon Emperor? you messed up because I Love when you do zombie stories, and you do you ridiculous high energy jokey narration I love you for (platonically like a brother) and Eunbi my my this is quite the christmas gift. Yeah you're making this a series. Go on now shoo. Start cooking. I look forward to the first chapter.

But it was only meant to be a wrap up... Sigh...Damn it… I guess it’s a series now.

A new perspective

Sakura grabbed her arm. “Chowon, we have to go!”

“I’m not leaving him!” she snarled, her voice raw with emotion.

The group hesitated, torn between their loyalty to Chowon and their survival instincts. Finally, Leo spoke, his voice heavy with regret. “We don’t have a choice. He wouldn’t want us to die here.”

The group began to retreat, dragging Chowon with them. She fought them every step of the way, but eventually, they relented leaving her, her eyes never leaving the direction Dinozen had been taken.

An hour later, Chowon sat alone by the charred remains of a tree, her knees pulled to her chest. Her mind raced, torn between worry for Dinozen and guilt for letting the group leave without her. She knew they would need a slayer but she expected Dinozen to come back any moment, and then they would go and tell off their group.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her tense, her hand instinctively going to her knife. A figure emerged from the shadows—a tall man with dark skin and a calm, almost disarming smile.

The person approaching her is me… yeah that's me your new and improved narrator. I approached the young woman who sat frozen, which was surprising to me to see someone so alone, but I guess I couldn't say much either because I was also very much alone. Her eyes were level with me though as she pulled her knife. I raised my hands above my head and replied, "Not a zombie. Just a traveler," the young lady looked at me suspiciously. She looked me over for any signs of infection or malice, but all she found was my goofball smile. But to her credit, she didn't let her guard down,

"Who are you?"

“Daihouzan,” I responded. The young lady eyed me suspiciously before asking what I was doing?

“Um, scavenging. If you can’t tell we are in the middle of the awesomepocalypse pocalypse pocalypse,” I responded while adding the echo for dramatic effect. The young woman scowled at me, and I replied “Woo tough crowd,”

“Do you think this is a game?” She growled angrily

“Uh, kinda,” I replied. “At least that’s how I’m treating it so I don’t get PTSD,” I added. The young lady eyed me confused I shrugged as I sat next to her, "So what seems to be the problem?"

"My friend is gone," she said, sadly, and I listened to her tell her story.

I felt bad because I had seen firsthand how people treated slayers and it wasn't the kindest always. Especially if they went into a rage, but I had been around enough slayers at this point to see them as people.

"Well, how about this we wait for your boyfriend (chowon growled at me saying that) oh okay mate, and if he's not here in the next 8 hours we go looking for him," I suggested. The young lady scowled and then said

"Okay, but you better not hold me down,"

I laughed and said, "Darling I am not just a monster hunter I am the monster hunter in these parts. I have seen more zombies than you have probably slain. I am a legend out here," the young lady finally laughed and said,

"If you are so much of a legend how come I don't know you," I clasped my hands together and said,

"you know what fair," before we began our wait.

At the fourth hour, hunger gnawed at me, and I decided to take a break from our quiet vigil. I headed into the safehouse and rummaged through what little remained. Among the scraps, I found instant ramen and a packet of vanilla tea. Not exactly gourmet, but in times like these, it was practically a feast. I prepared enough for both of us, though the young woman—still nameless to me—hadn’t said much the entire night.

When I returned, she sat by the same charred tree, her gaze fixed on the horizon as if willing something—or someone—to appear. I handed her the food, and though she accepted it, her movements were slow, her expression distant. She ate dourly, her eyes never meeting mine.

I settled beside her, eating in silence for a while. But something about her tugged at the edges of my memory, like a song you can’t quite place.

“Hey,” I started hesitantly, breaking the stillness. “What did you do before the outbreak?”

She paused mid-bite, her brow furrowing as though the question had stirred something painful. “I was a singer,” she said simply. “In a K-pop group.”

The pieces fell into place like a lightning strike. “Wait… are you Han Chowon? From Lightsum?” I blurted, the name tumbling out before I could stop myself.

Her head turned sharply toward me, and for a moment, her guarded demeanor cracked. Then, reluctantly, she nodded.

“No way,” I breathed, the realization hitting me like a truck. “Holy crap. I saw you guys when you did your show in LA! You were amazing. Seriously, I still remember how electric that performance was. And wow, you’re… you’re even prettier up close, even with this whole lioness vibe you’ve got going on.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, though her expression remained cautious. Still, there was a flicker of something—maybe amusement, maybe warmth.

Beside her, I could almost feel an invisible presence, a low purr of approval from that "lioness" persona she seemed to carry. Even though I couldn’t explain it, I knew she had accepted my presence, at least for now.

She shifted uncomfortably, her voice quieter as she asked, “So… what’s your pre-outbreak story?”

I leaned back against the tree, letting out a small chuckle. “Nothing nearly as glamorous as yours,” I said. “I worked in records and did stunt work for movies. You know, falling off buildings, crashing cars, setting myself on fire. The usual.”

Chowon raised an eyebrow, her skepticism briefly overtaking her guardedness. “Stuntman, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, a little sheepish. “I ran with my mentor, Jacob, who’s actually a Slayer now. In the early days of the outbreak, he took me under his wing and taught me everything I needed to survive. He’s the reason I’m still alive, really.”

There was a faint spark of interest in her eyes now, though it was still wrapped in layers of suspicion and exhaustion. “Where’s Jacob now?” she asked.

“Off doing Slayer things, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “Haven’t seen him in a while. But you know, he always said surviving wasn’t just about staying alive—it was about finding something worth protecting. Sounds cheesy, I know, but it stuck with me.”

Chowon’s gaze drifted again toward the horizon, her hands tightening slightly around the cup of vanilla tea. “Something worth protecting…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the silence between us felt less like a void and more like a shared understanding. Two people, broken in different ways, trying to find meaning in a world that had lost its own.

“Well,” I said, breaking the spell gently, “if your lioness persona approves, maybe we’ll survive this crazy apocalypse together.”

She didn’t laugh, but the corner of her mouth twitched—just enough to count as a win.

At the sixth hour, I knew it was time to stop waiting and start acting. Dinozen wouldn’t just rescue himself, and the longer we stayed idle, the more likely something terrible had already happened. I went to work, methodically preparing for the search. Weapons, check. Supplies—water, rations, the usual—check. I double-checked the straps on my shield, making sure everything was secure.

As I was finishing up, a low, guttural noise broke through the stillness. My head snapped up, ears straining to pinpoint the source. It was coming from the yard. Grunting, shuffling, and a growl that sent a chill down my spine.

I grabbed my shield and sword, Wicked Edge, and bolted outside. What I saw froze me in place for a split second. Chowon was locked in a brutal struggle with a bruiser zombie—a hulking, grotesque beast easily twice her size, its mottled skin stretched tight over grotesque muscles. It swung its massive arm at her, and she barely dodged, her knife looking pitifully inadequate against its bulk.

Without hesitation, I charged in, shield first. The impact of my rush slammed into the bruiser with a bone-crunching thud, sending it staggering back. Its neck twisted toward me at an impossible angle, its soulless eyes locking onto mine as it let out a guttural roar.

The bruiser charged, its enormous frame bearing down like a runaway train. I raised my shield just in time, absorbing the impact with a deafening clang that reverberated up my arm.

Before it could recover, I moved with practiced precision. With a single, powerful swing, I sliced through the bruiser’s midsection, cutting it clean in half. Blackened, viscous ichor spilled onto the ground as the top half of its body collapsed in a grotesque heap.

Breathing heavily, I turned to Chowon, who stood frozen, her knife still clutched in her hand. Her eyes were wide, not in fear but in surprise, maybe even awe.

“Sword Saint of Invincibility,” I said, pointing a thumb at myself with a grin. Chowon’s expression shifted, her guarded demeanor melting just slightly as a flicker of something else—approval, maybe—crossed her face. I could almost feel her inner lioness purring at the display of force.

Her gaze drifted to Wicked Edge, taking in its jagged, unnatural design. “What is that?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Oh, this?” I said, lifting the weapon for her to see. “It’s something I put together. Made it out of zombie parts and bone. I call it Wicked Edge.”

Chowon’s eyes lingered on the blade, her interest unmistakable. “You made it yourself?”

“Yup,” I said, sheathing the weapon with a flourish. “Every Slayer needs a signature weapon, right? Figured I’d put all those horror movie props and stuntman skills to good use.”

Her lips quirked upward, just a little. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” I feigned offense, placing a hand over my heart. “I just saved your life with that ‘not bad’ weapon!”

She let out a soft, amused huff, though her lioness aura still clung to her like a second skin. “Thanks,” she said, her tone quieter but sincere.

“No problem,” I replied, giving her a grin. “Now, you ready to help me find Dinozen? We’ve got work to do.”

She nodded, determination hardening her features. And for the first time, I felt like we weren’t just two strangers thrown together by circumstance. We were a team. Or at least, we were getting there. Chowon nodded as she got up and she followed me. the two of us travel in the direction that she saw Dinozen taken in.

The road stretched long and empty ahead of us, the only sound was the crunch of gravel beneath our boots. Chowon was walking slightly behind me, her gaze lingering on the weapons strapped across my back and hanging from my belt. I could feel her eyes moving between them—curiosity and perhaps judgment in her steady gaze.

I smirked to myself. “You can just ask, you know.”

Chowon stiffened slightly, caught in the act. “Ask what?”

“About my weapons. I saw you eying them,” I said, slowing my pace to walk beside her.

She glanced at me, her expression guarded. “They’re… unusual. You make all these yourself?”

“Every single one,” I replied, pride evident in my voice. I reached over my shoulder and unslung the massive axe strapped to my back. The blade gleamed with an icy sheen, faint frost forming along its edge. “This here is Leviathan. Inspired by God of War, if you’ve played it.”

Her eyes narrowed, clearly unimpressed by the game reference, but her inner lioness stirred as she studied the weapon itself.

“It’s made from the bones and claws of a glacial bruiser,” I continued, twirling it effortlessly before planting it into the dirt. “The frost effect comes from glands I harvested from its throat. Hits like a truck and freezes anything it cuts.”

Chowon stepped closer, running a hand lightly along the blade’s edge. Her lips twitched in what might’ve been approval. “You made this from scratch?”

“Yup. Takes a while, but hey, it’s worth it when it can save your life.”

I put Leviathan back and pulled two short swords from my waist, their handles connected by chains that clinked softly as I moved. “These are the Blades of Chaos. Another shoutout to God of War—you’re sensing a theme here, right?”

The chains rattled as I spun the blades in a smooth, almost hypnotic motion, the tips glowing faintly with a fiery red hue.

“They’re made from a pair of burning runners I took down. I forged their ribcages into the blades and kept their internal heat sacs for the fire effects. They’re not as strong as some of my other weapons, but they’re fast, and the chains make them versatile. Good for keeping zombies at bay.”

Chowon tilted her head, watching me demonstrate a few moves with them. Her inner lioness practically purred in approval. “Resourceful,” she admitted.

I grinned, holstering the blades. “That’s one way to put it. Now, this beauty…” I unslung Wicked Edge, my personal favorite. A bone sword and shield combo, both jagged and intimidating. “This one’s my bread and butter. The sword is made from the femur of a bony behemoth, and the shield is its skull. Got ambushed by one a while back—it didn’t walk away.”

Chowon’s eyes flicked to the shield, noting the jagged edges of the skull and the faint traces of dried blood etched into the bone. “Looks… brutal.”

“It is,” I replied with a wink. “But also durable. The shield’s saved my life more times than I can count, and the sword’s sharp enough to slice through even armored zombies. Plus, there’s something poetic about using the undead’s own body against them.”

Chowon gave a small nod, clearly impressed despite herself. Her lioness let out a low growl of approval in the back of her mind, and I could sense her warming up to me—if only slightly.

“And last but not least…” I reached for the spear strapped to my back. “ Gae Bolg. Another mythology-based weapon. But this one’s got a modern twist.”

I held the spear out for her to see. Its sleek, polished shaft was lined with intricate carvings, and the tip gleamed with a metallic sheen. “Made from the spine of a bone mapper and the claws of a butcher. The real kicker? It can use rifle ammo and project shrapnel at lethal velocity .”

“Like a rifle?” she repeated, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

I tapped a small trigger mechanism hidden near the grip. “Yeah, this baby can fire off rifle rounds. The zombie bone acts as a natural accelerant, and I’ve got the mechanism rigged to launch projectiles with minimal recoil. Perfect for both long-distance video calls and the more intimate dinner dates I can find myself in.”

Chowon’s hand brushed the shaft, her lioness practically purring at the craftsmanship. “You made all these from nothing but zombie parts?”

“Zombie parts, scavenged scrap, and a little ingenuity,” I replied. “When the world’s gone to hell, you work with what you’ve got.”

Her gaze lingered on the spear before shifting to me. “Impressive. I can see why you’ve survived this long.”

“High praise coming from you,” I teased, slinging Gae bolg back onto my back.

She smirked slightly, the edges of her guarded expression softening. “Don’t let it go to your head, Sword Saint.”

“Oh, it’s already there, I saved a slayer there’s no greater achievement,” I said with a grin, resuming our walk.

As we continued down the road, I noticed her glancing at me more often. Her lioness seemed to hum with approval, as though silently acknowledging me as someone worth her attention. It made traveling with her much easier as she opened up a bit more to me.

We found the safe house just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world into shadows. It was a squat, half-collapsed building, the windows boarded up and a flickering lantern glowing faintly inside. Chowon had been quiet for the past half-hour, her lioness seemingly tense, as if sensing something.

I tightened my grip on Gae Bolg as we approached. “Huh looks promising right?”

Chowon nodded, her expression unreadable. She pushed the door open without waiting for me, her usual cautious demeanor replaced by something raw and urgent. I followed close behind, the weight of the moment settling over us both.

Inside, the air was stale and musty, the faint scent of old wood and dried blood lingering. A figure sat slumped at the far end of the room, near the glow of the lantern. He was hunched over, staring at his hands as if they held some great mystery.

Chowon’s breath hitched as she stepped forward. “Dino…”

He looked up, his face partially obscured by shadow. For a moment, I thought he recognized her. But then, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Do I… know you?” he asked, his voice uncertain, like someone trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.

“Oh goody,” I said sarcastically as my mind made the logic jump.

Chowon froze, her lioness recoiling in shock. “What do you mean? It’s me, Chowon. You—” She stopped herself, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “It’s me,” she repeated, softer this time.

Dinozen shook his head, wincing as he rubbed his temples. “I… I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything before waking up here.”

Chowon turned to me, desperation flickering in her eyes. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Looks like short-term amnesia,” I said, kneeling beside him to get a closer look. His pupils were dilated, and he flinched when I touched his shoulder. “Probably trauma from whatever that fire-breathing bruiser did to him. Could’ve been physical or just the stress. Either way, memory loss isn’t uncommon in situations like this.”

Chowon dropped to her knees in front of Dinozen, her hands hovering as if she wanted to grab him but was afraid he might pull away. “Dino, it’s me. I’m your partner your equal. We’ve been through everything together. You have to remember.”

He stared at her, his face conflicted. “I… I’m sorry. I want to, but… I can’t. It’s like there’s this fog in my head, and I can’t see through it.” I could see something underneath the surface of his mind stirring but it was being blocked. Probably a concussion.

Her lioness growled softly, a sound Dinozen and I could sense, and I watched as Chowon swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. I’ll help you remember.”

Dinozen’s gaze softened slightly at her tone, but there was still no spark of recognition.

I stepped back, giving them space. “He might need time,” I said, leaning against the wall. “And rest. This safe house seems secure enough for the night.”

Chowon nodded, though her focus never left Dinozen. “We’re not leaving him.”

“… do I look like an idiot?” I said dumbfounded. Chowon didn’t appreciate my tone and I quantified with one muck lighter, “Wasn’t planning on it,” I replied.

As the minutes passed, I set up camp near the entrance, keeping an eye on the room. Chowon stayed close to Dinozen, speaking to him in hushed tones, trying to jog his memory with stories and little details about their time together.

I couldn’t hear all of it, but I caught bits and pieces: how they met, the fights they survived, the way he always stood between her and danger. Dinozen listened intently, though the frustration in his eyes grew with each story he couldn’t recall.

After a while, he looked at her and said, “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember. You seem… important.”

Chowon’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she looked utterly defeated. But then her lioness stirred again, resolute. She reached out, finally taking his hand in hers.

“You’ll remember,” she said firmly. “And until you do, I’ll remind you every single day if I have to.”

Her determination was something to behold. Even at this moment, with the man she clearly cared about staring at her like a stranger, she refused to give up.

I leaned back, arms crossed, and muttered to myself, “Damn, you’re one hell of a woman, Chowon.”

Her lioness let out a low growl of agreement, and I couldn’t help but grin. We got ready for the night and all took corners to sleep. Chowon stayed with Dinozen. As we were getting ready to sleep the whole building fell quiet.

The room was silent except for the occasional creak of the safehouse settling. Dinozen sat across from Chowon, his brows furrowed as he tried to process the bits of his past she’d shared. Chowon stayed close, her hand still resting over his, refusing to let the distance between them widen further.

Then, a crackle broke the quiet.

I turned sharply toward the source of the noise—my comm radio. I grabbed it from my pack, adjusting the dial until a voice came through, muffled but audible.

“…Any survivors in Zone Twelve, this is CDC. We’ve secured a secondary evacuation route. Repeat: there is a secondary evacuation route heading southbound from Sector Echo-Five. Extraction is available at dawn. Ensure any Slayers are accounted for to assist with transport security.”

Chowon’s head snapped toward me, her eyes wide. “Evacuation route?”

Dinozen perked up too, though he still looked a little dazed. “They’re still running evacuations?”

“Looks like it,” I said, keeping my tone neutral but hopeful. “Echo-Five is only a day’s travel from here if we’re fast. We could make it before dawn.”

Chowon hesitated, glancing back at Dinozen. “You think we should go?”

I gave her a long look, weighing my words carefully. “This isn’t just about us. It’s about helping the people out there who still need it. The CDC is trusting Slayers to protect the convoy.” I gestured to Dinozen. “He’s a Slayer, even if his memories are fuzzy. And you’re no slouch yourself.”

Dinozen straightened slightly as if reminded of a part of himself he hadn’t lost. “If we can help people… we should go.”

Chowon frowned, her lioness growling softly in disagreement. “But you’re not at full strength. What if something happens?”

I stepped in, my tone light but firm. “That’s what I’m here for. Between the three of us, we’ve got a better chance than most. And hey, worst-case scenario, I’ll just make another weapon out of whatever tries to kill us.”

Chowon shot me a glare, but the tension in her shoulders eased a little.

“Fine,” she said, relenting. She turned back to Dinozen, her expression softening. “But if you start feeling worse, you tell me. No playing hero.”

Dinozen nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll try to remember that.”

I clapped my hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, then! We’ve got a plan. Get some rest now, because once we leave, it’s full speed ahead. Ready break” I said as we finished our makeshift huddle.

The three of us began packing up in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. For Dinozen, it was likely the struggle to piece together his fragmented memories. For Chowon, it was the battle between her protective instincts and her trust in him. And for me?

Well, I couldn’t help but feel like the universe had put me in the right place at the right time. These two were something special, and if anyone could make it through this mess, it was them.

I glanced at Wicked Edge, already secured on my back, and muttered under my breath, “Looks like I’m in for another adventure.”

As we packed up, Chowon broke the silence. “There’s something you should know,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with an edge of defiance.

Dinozen and I both turned to her, curious. She tightened the straps on her pack and squared her shoulders, her lioness flickering in her gaze.

“I’m a Slayer too,” she said simply.

Dinozen blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You… you’re a Slayer?”

I raised an eyebrow, more intrigued than shocked. “Huh. Explains the whole lioness aura thing. But why didn’t you say anything before?”

She shot me a look. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you just tell people. Slayers don’t have the best reputation, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Dinozen rubbed the back of his neck, looking down. “I guess that makes sense. People… don’t trust us.”

Chowon softened at his tone, stepping closer. “That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything. But I’m done hiding. You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with the stigma. I’ve been fighting just as hard to prove I’m more than the monster people see.”

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a small grin tugging at my lips. “Well, well, the lioness reveals her claws. Makes sense, though—you’ve got the same fire in your eyes as he does.”

Chowon smirked faintly, though her gaze was still on Dinozen. “I became a Slayer later, after the outbreak. It wasn’t something I chose, but it happened. And it doesn’t make me any less human.”

Dinozen looked up at her, a flicker of admiration in his expression. “You’re… incredible,” he said quietly.

She rolled her eyes but smiled, the tension in her posture easing. “Save the flattery. We’ve got a mission to focus on.”

I pushed off the wall, clapping my hands once. “Alright, now that we’ve got that out in the open, let’s move. Two Slayers and one Monster Hunter? I’d say we’ve got this covered.”

Chowon gave a small laugh and shook her head. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

With that, we finished packing and prepared to head out, the weight of the world still heavy on our shoulders but lightened slightly by the truth now shared among us. For the first time, it felt like we were stepping forward as equals, ready to face whatever came next—together. After a good night’s rest full of pleasant dreams we got up early and headed off. While the slayers were clearly outpacing me I did keep up to the best of my ability. It was just hard competition when you’re competing against superhumans.

As we moved closer to the evacuation point, I noticed Dinozen’s stride slow. His eyes, glowing faintly with that predatory intensity I’d come to recognize, darted toward me, lingering on my leg and foot. Chowon must’ve picked up on it too because she stopped walking, her gaze sharp and focused as she studied me.

“You’re limping,” Dinozen said, his voice quieter now but laced with something deeper.

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It’s nothing. Just another day in paradise.”

Chowon tilted her head, her lioness instincts practically visible in her gaze as she noticed the scars running across my arms and neck. The jagged bite marks, the claw slashes, even the more recent wounds I hadn’t had the chance to properly clean up.

“You’ve been bitten,” she said, her tone low and edged with suspicion.

Dinozen’s eyes narrowed as his predator side came closer to the surface, studying me with that same primal scrutiny. “And clawed,” he added, his voice carrying an undertone of disbelief. “Those aren’t old scars either.”

“And stabbed, and bled on, and puked on…the list goes on and on really,” I said, Chowon and Dinozen didn’t appreciate the humor and brought their weapons to me.

I sighed, rolling my shoulders as if to shake off the weight of their stares. “Alright, alright. Look, I know how it looks, but trust me—it’s not what you think.”

Dinozen stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowing further. His predator was fully awake now, assessing me like I was an enigma it couldn’t quite solve. “You’re not a Slayer, then what are you?”

I chuckled. “Nope. Not a Slayer. Not superhuman. Just your average, everyday guy.”

Chowon’s lioness flickered in her gaze as she folded her arms. “Explain. Now.”

I stopped walking and faced them both, raising my hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Truth is, I can’t turn into a zombie.”

Chowon’s lioness tensed, clearly unsettled. “What do you mean, you can’t turn?”

“It’s genetic,” I explained, letting the words come slowly so they’d sink in. “I was born without the gene that makes a person able to turn. Zombies can bite me, claw me, hell, even try to gnaw my arm off, but I won’t turn. Doesn’t matter how bad it gets…well as long as they don’t eat me. I haven’t found anyone who can come back from that,”

Dinozen’s predator flared again, his eyes locking onto me with newfound interest. I could feel it—the instinctual, primal part of him sizing me up, testing whether I was worth respecting or dismissing.

“You’re immune,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “That’s… rare.”

“Yup,” I replied, popping the ‘p’ for effect. “Not a Slayer, just a guy who lucked out in the genetic lottery. Lucky me, huh? Or maybe it’s bad luck as I’d probably be dead now and not have to worry about” I gestured to the world around us, “all of this,”

Chowon’s lioness narrowed its gaze, her body tense as she processed this. “If you’re immune, why are you still out here? You could’ve stayed somewhere safe.”

I let out a hollow laugh, the kind that barely hid the exhaustion beneath it. “Safe? Well to be honest I thought more of the world was gonna fall so I never saw a reason to leave the Dead States of America. Besides, if I can’t turn, that means I’m better off out here helping people who can’t say the same. Someone’s gotta do it. Not every group can have slayers you know,”

Dinozen’s predator seemed to settle then, its gaze shifting from suspicion to something closer to approval. It was subtle—the way his posture relaxed, the faint nod he gave—but I caught it.

“You put yourself in danger for other people,” Dinozen said, his voice steady but carrying that predatory respect.

“Yeah, well,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck. “Someone’s gotta be the monster hunter. Might as well be me.”

Chowon’s lioness seemed to relax too, though it wasn’t entirely at ease. She nodded slowly, her gaze softening as she spoke. “You’re braver than I thought.”

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still gonna make fun of you every chance I get.”

Dinozen’s predator lingered for a moment longer, then seemed to settle back into him. When he spoke again, it was with a faint smile. “You’re not bad, Daihouzan. Not bad at all.”

We started walking again, the tension between us replaced by a quiet understanding. Dinozen’s predator had found something it could respect, and Chowon’s lioness seemed to begrudgingly agree. For the first time, I felt like we were on even footing—a team, not just people thrown together by circumstance.

As the evacuation point came into view, I glanced at the two Slayers beside me. An odd trio, sure, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Well, maybe for a warm bed and a hot meal, but that’s beside the point.

We arrived at the rendezvous point earlier than expected, which was just fine by me. Keeping up with Slayers was exhausting. They had boundless energy, endless chatter, and a knack for making everything a spectacle. Meanwhile, I preferred my energy reserved for battles, not theatrics. As we waited in the eerie quiet, the sound of a struggle floated in from the east.

I sighed heavily. “Here we go again.”

Chowon and Dinozen were already moving toward the noise, their senses honed to detect danger like predators ready to strike.

“Wait!” I called, rising reluctantly to my feet. They stopped, looking back at me impatiently.

“They’re coming this way. Don’t waste your energy running over there. You’ll just tire yourselves out.”

Dinozen grunted in acknowledgment, while Chowon hesitated before nodding. They both stayed put, their bodies tense and ready for the inevitable. The sound grew louder—a combination of growls, shouting, and the distinct rumble of something large and enraged.

When the first figure burst through the treeline, it was exactly what I expected: a grotesque mutator zombie, its body twisted and bulging with muscle, its movements erratic yet disturbingly fast. Behind it, a group of survivors—no, Slayers—struggled to keep it at bay.

The mutator’s beady eyes locked onto me, and it let out a deep, guttural growl, its claws tearing into the earth as it stomped forward.

I groaned, rolling my neck as I stepped forward to meet it. “You dare challenge the Immortal Righteous Sword Saint of Invincibility, Daihouzan?” I bellowed dramatically, slamming my fist to my chest.

Everyone—Slayers included—stared at me like I’d grown a second head. Dinozen raised an eyebrow, while Chowon pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What?” I said, glancing back at them. “Y’all can yap too. Let me have fun. This is one of my few joys in life.”

The mutator roared again, louder this time, mocking my theatrics. I smirked and roared back, throwing in a little snarl for good measure. The beast charged, and I stepped forward, pulling the Blades of Chaos from my waist. The fiery chains glinted in the fading sunlight as I spun them, the flames licking hungrily at the air.

The fight was brief but brutal. The mutator lunged, claws swiping wildly, but it was no match for the whirlwind of flames and steel. The chains wrapped around its limbs, cutting deep, while the fire consumed its rotting flesh. With a final swing, the beast collapsed in a smoldering heap.

“Another one bites the dust,” I muttered, sheathing the blades as I bent down to scavenge. Among the remains, I found a few components for the weapon I was working on—a katana inspired by Vergil’s Yamato from Devil May Cry. I just needed an Odachi blade to complete it.

As I straightened up, the rumble of the CDC Super Train reached my ears. The massive, fortified convoy pulled into view, its sleek, armored cars a stark contrast to the chaos of the world around us. The Slayers and their group quickly boarded, and I followed, collapsing onto the floor the moment we were safely inside.

Before anyone could react, I raised a hand weakly and said, “Not turning. Just tired.”

The group relaxed, though some shot me wary glances. As the train began to move, everyone settled into the car, finding their own spaces. I drifted off briefly, but the sound of raised voices pulled me back to consciousness.

“I can’t believe you forced us to leave you!” Jihyo’s voice rang out, sharp and filled with anger.

“You left Dinozen!” Chowon fired back, her tone equally heated.

“Yeah, and we all paid the price!” A young woman with auburn hair—Nagyoung, if I remember correctly—growled next to Jihyo. “We were overrun at the next safe house with no Slayer to help us out.”

“We all got bit! Lucky for us, we were already Slayers!” Nagyoung added, her frustration spilling over.

“Hey,” I cut in, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “Can y’all save the aggro for zombies? I was trying to sleep.”

One of the men—Donny, I assumed—turned to me with a glare. “You stay out of this!” he snapped.

I scratched my head lazily and gave him a bored look. “I don’t think you’ve got the combat acumen to back that threat, bruv, but hey, take your shot.”

The tension in the car grew thicker as another man—Leo—stepped forward, his expressionless aggressive but no less serious. “And who are you, exactly?”

I sighed, stretching dramatically as I stood. “Sword Saint of Invincibility. Combat Celebrant of Victory. Lord of Joy and Apex Hunter Extraordinaire—Daihouzan.” I gestured grandly. “And I’m not intimidated by your little show. I’ve fought way too many things to be scared of recently evolved Slayers.”

The room fell silent, save for Chowon and Dinozen, whose inner predators stirred. Their gazes showed a mix of respect and amusement. The others, however, looked at me like I was insane.

“Listen,” I continued, brushing off their reactions. “If no one has anything nice to say, let’s just keep it to ourselves. All this is gonna do is lead to conflict, and I don’t want to be the one mopping up body parts.”

Reluctantly, the group settled, muttering under their breaths as they returned to their seats. I found an open spot but realized it wasn’t empty. A woman sat there, dressed in a cowgirl outfit that reminded me a little of Tifa from Final Fantasy VII.

She looked up and smiled, extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Eunbi.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Wow, you’re, like, really pretty,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

She chuckled. “Thank you. Also, good job stopping them from fighting.”

I nodded, still trying to process her presence. “Thanks.”

“You’re Daihouzan, right?” she asked, tilting her head.

I frowned. “How’d you know?”

Her grin widened. “I heard your whole introduction over there. You’re very dramatic.”

I chuckled, relaxing. “Hey, I earned the nickname. I’m gonna flaunt it.”

“Fair point,” she said with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. For the first time in what felt like ages, I felt something other than exhaustion—a strange, flickering sense of connection.

As the train rumbled forward, the tension in the car began to dissipate. Chowon sat quietly, but her unease was palpable. I could tell she wasn’t used to seeing her friends so confrontational—or so changed. Dinozen, ever the quiet observer, sat beside her, a steady presence as her fingers tapped nervously on her knees.

The air in the car felt thick, almost electric. Slayers always had this sort of energy, and as someone who’d been around them for far too long, I could tell something was off. Not wrong exactly, but… different.

I was just starting to nod off again when a sharp gasp snapped me awake.

Chowon was on her feet, staring at Nagyoung, who was hunched over and clutching her chest. Her auburn hair clung to her forehead as beads of sweat formed along her temples. Jihyo was next to her, holding her shoulders.

“What’s happening to her?” Chowon asked, panic creeping into her voice.

“I don’t know!” Jihyo exclaimed. “She was fine a second ago!”

Nagyoung groaned, her body trembling as her muscles seemed to ripple beneath her skin. Her fingers dug into the armrest of her seat, leaving dents in the metal.

“She’s evolving,” I said calmly, leaning back against the wall.

“What?” Chowon turned to me, wide-eyed.

“Relax. It’s normal for newly bitten Slayers,” I explained, waving a hand dismissively. “Their bodies are still figuring out what kind of apex predator they’re going to become. It’s not pretty, but it’s part of the deal.”

Before Chowon could respond, another groan echoed through the car. This time, it was Donny, Nagyoung’s boyfriend. His head was tilted back, his eyes glowing faintly as veins pulsed along his neck. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and his nails had started to darken into sharp, claw-like tips.

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Dinozen muttered, his gaze flicking between the two.

The train car felt like it was vibrating on a different frequency now. Leo let out a grunt, doubling over as his arms flexed involuntarily. Beside him, Sakura steadied him, her expression calm despite the fact that her own transformation was starting—her pupils narrowing into slits and her movements becoming unnaturally graceful.

Jihyo winced as her girlfriend, Venus, clutched her arm, her skin shimmering faintly as if the light was refracting off it. Even Mikey and Chaehyun weren’t spared—Mikey’s hair seemed to darken unnaturally, and Chaehyun’s normally delicate features hardened, her nails digging into the fabric of her seat.

“Everyone… everyone’s changing,” Chowon whispered, her voice trembling.

I stood, dusting off my coat and walking to the center of the car. “Alright, listen up!” I said, clapping my hands loudly. “This is just evolution doing its thing. Y’all are Slayers now—fully fledged apex predators. It’s not a big deal. You’ll feel stronger, faster, and more dangerous. Maybe you’ll grow claws, fangs, or wings. Who knows? Point is, you’ll get through it.”

“You’re acting like this is normal!” Chowon snapped, glaring at me.

I shrugged. “Because it is normal—for Slayers. You’re just not used to it.”

“But… all of them?” she said, her voice breaking. “Jihyo, Nagyoung, Mikey… even Sakura?”

“They got bit,” I said plainly. “The Slayer gene kicked in, and now they’re apex predators. Simple as that. You’re looking at the new food chain, Chowon, and your friends are officially at the top.”

Chowon’s gaze darted between her friends, who were now writhing, grunting, or grimacing through their transformations. It wasn’t just physical—there was something primal in their eyes, something animalistic and raw.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” she muttered, sinking back into her seat.

Dinozen, who had been quiet all this time, placed a hand on her shoulder. “Neither did we,” he said softly. “But it’s who we are now. And so are they.”

Chowon looked up at him, her expression conflicted. Before she could respond, Nagyoung let out a sharp cry, and suddenly the air shifted. Her body went still, her breathing slowed, and when she looked up, her glowing eyes were sharp and focused. She flexed her hands, the claws retracting and extending as if testing them out.

“Whoa,” Nagyoung muttered, examining herself. “This… feels insane.”

The others began to stabilize as well, their transformations complete. Donny stretched, his muscles taut beneath his shirt, while Leo cracked his neck, looking oddly serene despite the faint glow in his irises. Venus’s skin shimmered faintly before fading, and Sakura moved with a fluidity that was almost unnerving.

“I feel… powerful,” Jihyo murmured, her voice laced with awe as she flexed her fingers.

“Well, congrats,” I said, crossing my arms. “You’re officially Slayers. Welcome to the club.”

Chowon’s hands trembled as she looked at them. These were her friends—her family—but now they were something else entirely. For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then she took a deep breath and stood.

“Alright,” she said, her voice firm. “If this is who you are now, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Dinozen nodded approvingly, and the others looked at her with newfound respect. Even in the chaos of their transformation, Chowon’s determination cut through like a beacon.

As the train continued on its journey, the car settled into an uneasy quiet. But the air still buzzed with the latent energy of predators in their prime. This was a new beginning—for them and for Chowon. And something told me that things were only going to get more complicated from here.

As the train finally settled into a steady rhythm, the tension in the car eased. Chowon’s friends were still adjusting to their new reality as Slayers, but for now, the transformations seemed to have stabilized. I, on the other hand, was more interested in finding my way back to some peace and quiet.

Sliding back into my seat, I was met with Eunbi’s warm smile. She looked unfazed by the chaos that had just unfolded—a Slayer herself, her calmness in the face of danger was almost unnerving.

“Back so soon?” she asked, her tone light and teasing.

I shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “Figured I’d come back to the only sane person on this train.”

She chuckled at that, her hand resting lazily on the armrest. “How do you know so much about zombies and Slayers?” she asked, her head tilting curiously. “You didn’t even blink back there.”

I sighed, folding my arms over my chest. “Let’s just say I’ve been in the Dead States of America a long time. Seen a lot, fought even more.”

Her brow lifted in interest, her smile widening. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” I said with a wry grin. “Regular zombies, Apex mutators, Raider packs. Once fought a hive of those weird spitter things that can blind you with their goo. Nasty business. But Slayers?” I nodded toward the rest of the train car. “Slayers are a whole different animal. You learn quick when you’ve got to survive alongside them.”

Eunbi studied me for a moment, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And yet you’re still here, perfectly fine. Either you’re the luckiest man alive or you’re tougher than you look.”

I smirked. “Maybe both.”

“Maybe,” she echoed, leaning her chin on her hand. “So, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve fought?”

I considered that for a moment, my gaze drifting to the ceiling. “There was this one mutator… it had four arms, each one bigger than my torso. Looked like something out of a nightmare. Took me three days to track it and kill it, and even then, I was down to my last bullet and one good arm by the end of it.”

Eunbi let out a low whistle. “Three days? Sounds like it almost got the better of you.”

“Almost,” I admitted, a small smile tugging at my lips. “But it didn’t. That’s the thing about this place—you either adapt, or you die. Me? I adapt.”

She nodded thoughtfully, her smile never wavering. “I can see that. You’ve got this… unshakable thing about you. Like no matter what happens, you’ll find a way through.”

I raised a brow at her. “Is that your Slayer sense talking?”

“Maybe,” she said, grinning. “Or maybe I’m just good at reading people.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Well, whatever it is, you’re not wrong. I’ve been through too much to quit now.”

Eunbi leaned back in her seat, her gaze steady on me. “I think I like having you around, Daihouzan. You’re interesting.”

“Interesting, huh?” I said, smirking. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” she assured me, her grin softening into a genuine smile. “You’re not like most people I’ve met. You’ve got stories. I can tell.”

I didn’t respond right away, letting her words hang in the air. It wasn’t often that someone looked at me and saw past the bravado and the theatrics. But Eunbi… she seemed to get it.

“Stick around,” she said after a moment, her tone light again. “I want to hear more of them.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms. “We’ll see if you can keep up.”

Eunbi laughed, the sound soft and melodic, cutting through the lingering tension in the car. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax. Maybe, just maybe, this train ride wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

That feeling was quickly squashed as we arrived at the refueling station. The refueling station had an eerie stillness about it, despite the shuffling of the undead. Willamette, Colorado—of all places—was a name I hadn’t heard in years, but the sight before me quickly reminded me why I avoided it like the plague.

“An absolute piss show,” Jacob’s words echoed in my head as I took in the scene.

A massive horde of zombies stretched as far as the eye could see, and at the center of it all stood the Rage Cage—a sinister contraption of steel and wires, pulsating with an unsettling red glow. It was built to amplify the infection, driving any Slayer caught in its radius into a feral, uncontrollable fury.

As the train came to a stop, I groaned, already knowing what was about to go down. Chowon, Eunbi, and the others looked at me with confusion until I broke the silence.

“Alright, listen up,” I said, taking Leviathan, my trusty axe, off my back. “I’m going to need all of you to stay in the train car while I handle this.”

“Wait, what?” Chowon asked, her brows furrowing.

Eunbi crossed her arms. “Why are we staying behind?”

I pointed at the Rage Cage with my axe, the glowing monstrosity casting an ominous light over the scene. “That,” I said. “That’s a Rage Cage. It messes with Slayers and amps up your infection until you’re just as much of a danger as the zombies. And I, for one, prefer not to get mauled by any of you. So, you stay here, looking pretty, while I handle the horde.”

I could see the protests forming in Jihyo’s and Venus’s eyes, but before they could speak, Eunbi stepped forward.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice softer, less confrontational than the others.

I sighed, gripping Leviathan tighter. “No, not really. But I don’t have much of a choice.”

Without waiting for a response, I opened the door and stepped into the fray.

The first few walkers were easy enough—slow, stumbling dead, barely more than target practice. Leviathan sang as it cleaved through rotting flesh and bone, the frost-etched blade cutting cleanly. I moved through the crowd like a storm, carving a path and dropping bodies with every swing.

Then came the Butchers.

These hulking monstrosities were larger than the average Apex, their muscles grotesquely swollen and their mouths filled with jagged teeth. They moved with alarming speed, but Leviathan was faster. I sidestepped the first one, swinging the axe into its torso and freezing it solid before shattering it with a follow-up strike.

I was just catching my breath when I heard a voice—calm, familiar, and thoroughly unwelcome.

“Ah, I should have known you’d be here,” it said, cutting through the chaos.

I groaned, already knowing who it was. Turning, I saw her: Mrs. Konrad.

Standing on the observation platform of the Rage Cage, she looked as immaculate as ever, her pale green eyes glowing faintly in the overcast light. She was dressed in a tailored suit and heels, her appearance at odds with the apocalyptic nightmare surrounding us.

“Please don’t do this,” I said, exhaustion seeping into my voice. “I’m leaving. You win. You and your super Slayers can have the States. I’m done fighting you.”

Mrs. Konrad smiled, her expression equal parts amusement and condescension. “Oh, Daihouzan, you misunderstand. It’s not about winning. It’s about teaching.” She gestured toward the train. “You’ve gathered quite the collection of Slayers, haven’t you? They need guidance, my guidance.”

I rolled my eyes, gripping Leviathan tighter. “So, what? You built a Rage Cage to teach them a lesson?”

She smiled wider. “Of course. They need to feel the full fury of their powers, to understand what they truly are.”

“Jacob asked me not to harm you,” I said my voice hardening. “So I won’t start this fight. But if you keep pushing, Konrad, I will put you in the dirt.”

Her laugh was cold and sharp, echoing off the steel walls of the station. “Always so dramatic. I suppose that’s what makes you Jacob’s protégé.” She turned toward the generator powering the train. “Fine. I’ll leave your Slayers alone—if you can withstand the onslaught.”

With a wave of her hand, she activated the gate holding back the next wave of Apexes. I groaned, pulling out my phone.

“What are you doing?” she asked, curious.

“Getting the proper music,” I said, scrolling through my playlist until I found the track I was looking for. I hit play, and Ice Nine Kills’s only Christmas song blasted through the speakers.

Mrs. Konrad laughed again, the sound oddly genuine. “You would have made an excellent Slayer.”

I shrugged, my eyes fixed on the approaching Apexes. “Blame genetics. I was born without the necrophage gene.”

“Pity,” she said, leaping away with an impossible grace, her heels clicking as she disappeared into the shadows.

The Butchers and other Apexes charged toward me, their roars drowning out the music. With a sigh, I adjusted my grip on Leviathan and muttered, “Guess it’s time to earn my keep.”

The battle began anew, and the chaos surged around me.

A lasher whipped its impossibly long tongue at me before I grabbed it and cut it off with Leviathan. Before bashing its head in with the pommel of the axe. I then turned my focus to three spitters coming my way. I closed the distance as I jumped above one before embedding the axe blade in its head dragging it through the rest of its torso before throwing the axe into the other acidic bile body the blade instantly froze the organ causing the spotter to explode on a puff of ice. I grabbed Leviathan having mowed down through most of the hoard before booting up the refueling machine. As it happened I felt a weird sensation on my arm to see a Shambler head gnawing on it. It was only the head and it had no teeth so it was only gnawing on me with gums. I rolled my eyes and tore it off me. Then I walk back to the train while finishing off the rest of the zombies before entering.

Eunbi was the first to see me as I stumbled back toward the train car, sweat dripping down my brow and Leviathan dragging along the ground behind me. She smiled warmly, her expression one of admiration mixed with a hint of relief. “Well, that was impressive,” she said, her tone light but sincere.

I sighed, exhaustion weighing heavy on my shoulders. “Impressive huh? Must be high praise coming from a slayer as pretty as you,” I muttered, collapsing into a seat as the automated train roared to life and sped off, leaving Willamette and its horrors behind. Eunbi smiled and said,

"Considering all I have seen impressive is right." before leaning into my shoulder as I fell asleep. Her warmth was comforting.

The train ride continued, with more survivors boarding at each stop. Every refueling station brought new faces, new stories, and an overwhelming mix of emotions. Slayers made up a significant portion of the passengers, their newfound powers creating a strange, uneasy dynamic. Not for me since I had been in the dead states of America for a while, and saw how the dead evolved. Some were adjusting better than others, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. Old rivalries surfaced, egos clashed, and the train car felt like a powder keg waiting for a spark. Lucky for me nothing ever did

I mostly stayed on the sidelines, keeping out of the way as groups formed and reformed around me. It was easier that way. I wasn’t really part of their world anymore Especially as we moved closer to civilization. Oddly enough I felt this existential dread creep up as we got closer.

I glanced out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Jacob at one of the stops. He’d taught me so much about surviving this world, about fighting back when everything seemed lost. But stop after stop, there was no sign of him.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, the motion of the train a dull hum in the background. “Hope you’re doing alright, old man,” I murmured to myself.

As the train finally reached its destination, I stepped out into the sprawling new base in South Korea. It was a surreal sight: a blend of American military precision and Korean urban ingenuity. The juxtaposition of East and West was jarring but strangely harmonious, a testament to humanity’s ability to adapt even in the face of apocalypse.

Our little group stood together for a moment, taking in the scene. Chowon, Dinozen, Eunbi, Jihyo, and the others—all of us had shared something profound throughout our time in the dead states. We’d fought together, survived together, and in some ways, grown together.

Eunbi was the first to break the silence, pulling everyone into a group hug. I laughed, caught off guard but not resisting. For a brief moment, the weight of everything we’d been through lifted.

When we broke apart, I grinned and said, “Well, I guess that’s the end of the awesomepocalypse.”

Eunbi smiled, her eyes bright despite the weariness etched into her features. “Awesomepocalypse,” she echoed as if savoring the word. “I like that.”

With that, we parted ways, each heading toward a different screening process. We didn’t make promises to keep in touch, but there was an unspoken understanding that we would always carry a piece of each other with us. One Year Later

I hadn’t expected much contact from anyone after we went our separate ways. Life had a way of pulling people apart, especially after something as transformative as what we’d been through. But Chowon and Dinozen surprised me. Every week, without fail, we gathered at my home for dinner.

Those dinners became a cornerstone of my new routine. Chowon and Dinozen had adapted to civilian life with remarkable grace. Their experiences as Slayers had left them more confident, and more assertive. Chowon, in particular, had channeled her newfound drive into her career. Under her watchful eye, Lightsum had transformed into a powerhouse, rivaling even Cube’s other flagship group, (G)-IDLE, in popularity.

Dinozen, for his part, had found a surprising knack for storytelling. He’d started writing a graphic novel series about the apocalypse, blending his experiences with a healthy dose of fiction. It was raw, emotional, and oddly hopeful—a reflection of the man himself.

So when a Christmas party invitation from none other than Jihyo of TWICE fame arrived in my mailbox, I was more than a little taken aback. I hadn’t heard from Jihyo since the train ride, though I’d occasionally caught glimpses of her in the news. She’d thrown herself back into her work, leading TWICE with the same determination that had carried her through the apocalypse.

I wasn’t sure what to expect as I stepped into the party, but one thing was clear: life had moved on, and we were all finding our own ways to thrive.

As I stepped into the party, the familiar hum of chatter and laughter greeted me. The venue was beautifully decorated, bright lights twinkling like stars in a sky that felt too close for comfort. It was strange, how such a festive atmosphere felt so distant after everything we’d been through, but I couldn’t help but be drawn in by the warmth of it all.

I barely made it past the door when the room suddenly erupted into cheers. At first, I thought I’d walked into the wrong party, but then I saw the familiar faces: Eunbi, Jihyo, and a few others from the Slayer community, all waving and grinning. It was like the whole room had been waiting for me.

“Yo, Daihouzan! You made it!” Eunbi’s voice rang out over the noise, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Jihyo, standing next to her, was grinning too, her eyes sparkling. “Daihouzan! It’s been too long!” she called out, her voice warm and inviting, full of the same energy she’d always had.

The crowd around them clapped and cheered, and I felt an unexpected flush creep up my neck. For a moment, I stood there, feeling like I was the one who’d just won a battle. People were genuinely happy to see me.

I raised my hand in a half-hearted wave, not quite sure how to respond to the warm reception. “I, uh… didn’t know I was this popular,” I said, trying to hide the amusement in my voice.

“Are you kidding? We’ve all been hearing stories about you,” one of the slayers, a younger guy with short black hair, added with a grin. “We have been hearing tales about the sword saint of invincibility all night’ he has quite the reputation around here.”

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sword Saint of Invincibility, now there’s a throwback… I don’t know about all that. Just doing what needs to be done.”

From behind, I heard Nagyung’s familiar voice, laced with that playful edge she always carried. “Since when did you get so humble? When we met you, you had an ego the size of five spitters,” she teased as she walked up with Donny by her side.

I turned to face them and shrugged with a faint smirk. “Life changes people,” I replied simply, though the glint in Nagyung’s eyes told me she wasn’t buying it entirely.

Donny nudged her and added, “He’s just trying to be all Zen now. You know, a mysterious hero. The sword saint, wandering the Earth, helping where needed.”

“Or avoiding everyone because he’s terrible at keeping in touch,” Nagyung quipped.

Before I could defend myself, the crowd’s cheers began to quiet, but the energy in the room remained vibrant. The looks on people’s faces—the recognition, the shared understanding—made something in my chest feel lighter. These weren’t just random strangers; they were comrades, survivors, people who knew what it meant to endure and rebuild.

Eunbi, who had been standing nearby, slipped an arm around my shoulder and leaned in with a grin. “Come on, get a drink and enjoy yourself for once,” she said, her voice playful but warm. “You’ve earned it.”

I smiled at her and nodded. “Alright, alright. Lead the way.”

She guided me to a table where a couple of drinks were already waiting. As I sat down, she leaned back in her chair, her expression curious but filled with pride. “So, I hear you’re the lead villain rider on the new Kamen Rider series, and you’ve been writing for Ultraman too,” she said, excitement coloring her voice.

I nodded, picking up one of the drinks and taking a sip. “Yeah, actually, I got the job because Jacob saw me on a Rider show. He was so glad to see me alive and kicking, that he pulled some strings. He went back to stunt work after helping find the cure, and Tsuburaya picked him up like that,” I said, snapping my fingers. “He’s been killing it so far, and I’ve been helping out where I can.”

Eunbi’s smile widened. “That’s amazing. You’ve really built something for yourself.”

“Well, you’re not doing too bad yourself,” I said, gesturing to her. “I hear you’re killing it in your modeling career.”

She laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah, the pay’s great, and I’ve gotten to travel a lot. But…” Her smile faltered just slightly, and she hesitated.

I raised an eyebrow. “But what?”

She glanced down at her drink, swirling it idly before looking back up at me. “Well, my favorite Sword Saint never came to visit me. Or even stayed in touch,” she said, her tone light but with an edge of something deeper.

I sighed, letting out a quiet laugh. “Well, it would’ve been hard to just show up and say, ‘Hey, I’m the model’s friend. I’m allowed to be here.’”

“It actually would have been that easy,” she countered, tilting her head at me. Then she added with a sly grin, “I put you on all of my plus-one lists, hoping you’d show up.”

I squinted at her, leaning forward slightly. “Why would you do that?”

Before she could answer, Dinozen and Chowon appeared, pulling up chairs and sitting down with exaggerated sighs. Chowon gave me a knowing look, her tone full of mock exasperation. “Because she likes you, dummy.”

“Obviously,” Dinozen added, grinning as he reached for one of the drinks on the table.

Eunbi’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, and she shot them a look of mild annoyance. “I could’ve said that myself, you know.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of their statement. “Wait, what?”

“Wow!,” Chowon said, shaking her head with a laugh. “You really are clueless sometimes.”

Eunbi buried her face in her hands for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh. “Well, there it is,” she said, looking back at me, her expression both sheepish and amused. “They’re not wrong.”

I stared at her, my mind racing to process what I’d just heard. Then, slowly, a smile crept across my face. “You know,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “you could’ve just told me.”

“Yeah, well, where’s the fun in that? Besides it would have been tough finding you with all your jet setting, and being an action hero” she shot back, her grin returning.

The table erupted into laughter, a lively buzz of conversation and camaraderie filling the room. But as the noise swirled around us, I caught Eunbi’s gaze. There was something different in her expression—soft, almost wistful. She leaned closer, her voice barely audible over the chatter.

“Hey, can we go somewhere more quiet?” she asked.

I nodded without hesitation, rising from my chair as she grabbed her jacket. The party seemed to recede into the background as we stepped outside into the crisp night air. The quiet hum of the city was a welcome reprieve from the noise, and we began walking side by side. The glow of holiday lights danced off the frost-covered pavement, creating a serene, dreamlike atmosphere.

After a few minutes, Eunbi broke the silence. “You’ve grown quite quiet,” she said, her voice gentle.

I laughed, the sound carrying a tinge of self-awareness. “Well, so has life. I haven’t faced a zombie since Christmas last year, and now with the cure and those gene stabilizers for slayers, a lot more people are immune. So… I guess I’m back to being normal.”

Eunbi let out a soft sigh, her breath visible in the cold air. “You’ll always be special to me, even though you’re not a slayer,” she said, her voice sincere.

I glanced over at her, the warmth in her words catching me off guard. Before I could respond, she stopped walking and turned to face me. Her hand reached up to caress my face, her fingers cool against my skin. Her frown deepened slightly, concern etched in her features.

“Why didn’t you reach out?” she asked, her tone tinged with both hurt and curiosity. “Dinozen and Chowon were always talking about how hard you were working, but they also said you seemed… adrift. Like you were using work to fill a void.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I searched for the right way to explain. “Well, it’s just that I don’t really know who I am anymore. So much of my identity was tied to my reinvention as the sword saint, and now that’s kind of… gone.”

Eunbi listened intently, her eyes never leaving mine. A small smile tugged at her lips as she reached for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Well then,” she said as we reached her apartment, “how about we rebuild your identity with a new title?”

I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

She opened the door and stepped inside, shedding her jacket as she turned back to me. Her expression softened, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. “As my boyfriend,” she said teasingly.

Before I could respond, she closed the gap between us, pushing me gently onto her couch. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater and the beating of my own heart. She leaned in, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was both confident and tender.

For a moment, the weight of the past year—the doubts, the uncertainties, the endless questions about who I was—faded away. In that kiss, there was clarity, a promise of something new. As she pulled back slightly, her eyes met mine, and I saw nothing but warmth and certainty in her gaze.

“Eunbi…” I started, but she silenced me with a smile.

“Shh,” she whispered. “We’ll figure it out together. Just… stay here with me tonight.” I nodded wordlessly as she began kissing me again. As her boldness and passion increased I could feel her hands dipping under my shirt.

"Bold are we?" I proposed and Eunbi smiled,

"I have been waiting for you this last year and now I got you," she said mischievously before nibbling on my ear. Her warm mouth set my veins on fire, and that was all before she lifted up her shirt.

"fuck!" I exclaimed staring at her chest that was exposed. Her nipples were hard and taut as she stared at me with hungry eyes. Without a word, she undid my pants and wrapped her tits around my rock-hard manhood. I moaned as her soft flesh enveloped me. Eunbi smiled as she continued her fucking me with her tits.

"Oh do you like that?" she said teasingly. I moaned again nodding wordlessly as she kept going hypnotically up and down. The experience was so intense I was unsurprised with how fast I was nearing climax. Eunbi smiled as she kept going as if encouraged by my unraveling, but just as I was about to hit the peak Eunbi stopped and I groaned.

“Holy fuck,” I cry out. Eunbi gets up her chest lathered with precum.

“I’m not gonna let you off that easy,” she coos devilishly.

I groan and she says, "Now I am gonna ride you until all you can say is my name. Do I make myself clear?" I nod and Eunbi sighed

"Words Darling," she cooed and I barely mustered a "Yes Mam," Eunbi frowned at that. As she got up and took off her bottoms. she then straddled me before saying,

"that makes me sound like an Old Lady. Do I like an old lady?"

"No," I said haggardly. Eunbi smiled as she continued grinding on my crotch at an evil pace.

"Good Now figure something else to call me," she said

I ran the list through my head and decided on Madam as it felt the least "Oedipus Coded". Eunbi's eyes stared into mine. Her red Sclera made her brown eyes really pop.

"I am waiting Daihouzan," Eunbi said,

"I am sorry madam," I quickly corrected and Eunbi smiled.

"Ooh I like that," Eunbi said as she slowly sank on my cock. I groaned as she bottomed out. She smiled before saying, "Fuck you so…fuck" she said as her body spasmed. Her walls tightened reflexively as she tried milking me for all I was worth.

"Did you just cum?" I asked confused. Eunbi's breath was labored but before she could even recover she was riding the hell out of me as she took me deeper and deeper inside of her.

"Fuck you just fit right," she moaned as she bounced up and down. Now not gonna lie the way her breasts bounced hypnotized me a bit. Unable to control myself I took one into my mouth. Eunbi lost in the pleasure groaned relentlessly as she continued riding me. Her tempo was frenetic as she chased yet another high. Her moans? Apoplectic with hungered lust (trust me I should know all about apocalypses, and anger)

"fuck where have you been all this time," Eunbi groaned as she kept riding. Her walls tightened again as she moaned. "Fuck what are you doing to me." She moaned as she came again. Unable to take any more of her vicious pace and Exploded inside her tight cavern. Eunbi moaned as we both rode out our peaks with each other.

"Fuck." I said.

"Fuck taking things slow. fuck that! You're moving in with me," Eunbi growled possesively before bringing me in for another kiss.

Shortly after we passed out, and I was woken up by Eunbi's dog Geumbi licking me.

"Oh well, she likes you. that's a plus." I sighed as I got up, and was reminded of my dog that I had before the awesomepocalypse. You know what the more I look back on it the more it sucked. I was always tired and fighting and lost so much." despite that I put it beside me as I got up. Eunbi was in the kitchen drinking a Sprite cranberry which made me laugh as she put on Christmas music. I walked to her and she smiled.

"you know we are gonna need a new name for you since you can't be the Sword Saint of Invinvibilty anymore."

I thought for a moment then said, "Since I mostly play villains… How about Great Demon Emperor Diabolos?"

Eunbi rolled her eyes and then, said"You're lucky I like you being over the top," she groaned before kissing me, and said, "I'll take it for now."

Before we could do anything else there was a knock on the door. Eunbi and I looked at each other confused as we scrambled to look decent. When she opened the door I said the following words,

"Oh fuck oh no oh fuck,"

[prentissluvr]

HI MARI !!

IM HERE WITH MY DEAN THOUGHTS!! (mostly platonic)

when you become friends/best friends, he’s ride or die for you

not on the same level of sammy but it’s a close second

the playful banter between the two of you is just great

although he knows that he can be annoying and uses it to his advantage

flirting with you to annoy his brother (he knows that sammy is in love with you and does it to get on his nerves)

PET NAMES!

has a reserved nickname for you but does pull out the pet names if you’re having a bad day

speaking of bad days/sick days

he will go out of his way to take care of you

pulls out all of the stops for his bestie

this is when you realize this man is a secret softy at heart (refuses to admit it, because he’s a “big bad hunter”)

platonic cuddles/casual physical affection

dean is reserved with physical affection (im thinking post hell! dean) (earlier szns dean wouldn’t hold back tbh)

but once he’s comfortable with you (and is sure that you won’t leave him or sammy)

then it’s a free for all

swinging his arm over your shoulder, sharing a bed if there’s only two beds (sam seethes sometimes but this is way before you guys get together lol), resting his head in your lap during movie nights (starts off as a joke wanting to annoy you but then does it almost everytime you guys have one, loves when his hair is getting played with)

there’s def more but ill cut it off here (i love bestie dean but im also in love with him LOL) (the winchester brothers have a GRIP on me)

HELLO DAISYYYY HEHEHEHE this is amazing i'm so obsessed <33

cw : mentions of injuries, pet names obviously , dean is annoying ofc <3, sammy and reader like each other, swearing probably, alcohol mention, unedited! wc : 1.5K

⟢ ride or die : i mean yeah, this is pretty much undeniable. sure, sam will always be his first priority, but the moment he knows that you're a part of the team, no doubts, he's prepared to do just about anything for you. both fortunately and unfortunately, this does mean he gets really protective of you similarly to how he is with sam, especially if you're younger than him. and even if you're not, the fact that you're his best friend makes you family, and we know how dean feels about family <3

⟢ playful banter : this is basically just your whole friendship with him HAHA. not truly, of course, but mostly heh. like idk what else to say, he'll take any opportunity to tease you or make you fake angry because he just thinks it's too funny. and he'll love whatever way you respond to that. he definitely enjoys if you return his fire with your own teasing and retorts and i personally think you are so allowed to be mean to him because he's an idiot!! obviously don't be actually mean, but he enjoys having a teasing relationship where you can call each other stupid and know that the other means it with love lol.

when the two of you get into it, sam gets so annoyed. like you'll be arguing about the value of mustard on sandwiches and both of you are so invested in winning the argument and sam is like oh my god, dean please focus on the road and shut up, both of you😭😭 the boy is trying to sleep, he doesn't need this right now. so you either keep arguing in hushed tones (which doesn't last for long) or you pick it back up at another time (that's also probably inconvenient and annoying to sam still HA).

and yeah, dean can be very annoying and he loves to rile you up LOL. it's great when you reciprocate his banter, but sometimes he's just so ridiculous that it has you rolling your eyes and groaning in frustration. and unfortunately for you, that, or any other dramatic response, is exactly what dean is trying to get out of you. "dean, will you shut up?" is one of his favorites. he just laughs at you, he thinks the way you say it is so funny and cute.

he does other annoying things too, like rest his elbow on your head or shoulder if it reaches, he doesn't care if you're his same height, barely shorter, or significantly shorter, he's gonna make fun of your height. and if you're taller, yeah he's still gonna make fun of that, too. he'll playfully put his hand on the top of your head, just for the pure intention of annoying you. idk basically anything that annoys you, he does it (usually without going overboard, he knows where to draw the line).

and yeah, the flirting is more about annoying sam, but it's a total plus when you give him that look saying, "really, are you kidding me?" he'll love a good banter on that end of the spectrum too, if you're down for flirting back. unfortunately, this sends sam the wrong message for the longest time, but it's not your fault that you don't know that he likes you back! you're just playing around with dean heh.

⟢ pet names/nicknames : yes yes yes!! he absolutely has a nickname that is specific to you!! basically your version of "sammy." it might be a nickname based off of your given name, but it totally could be an inside joke, something silly and cute. it might even be a pet name that he uses for you exclusively. i can see him calling a younger best friend "pumpkin," mostly as another method of annoying you. that one is used pretty sparingly though because it's a little over the top for the both of you. he definitely uses it a lot less than whatever his main nickname for you is, which he uses just about all the time lol. if you have a nickname based off you name, sam probably uses that, too. so, dean likes having a separate nickname that he came up with which only he uses.

and yes! he does use pet names casually and occasionally, but he's far more likely to use them if you're having a bad day, if you were injured on a hunt, or something like that! i think maybe this is just because i'm obsessed with the time that dean called lisa honey once, but i think the idea of dean calling his best friend honey is really adorable. that one is used for maximum comfort, especially if you're injured <3 "c'mon, honey. keep your eyes open, you're okay." i can also see dean using baby platonically sometimes!

he does occasionally use over the top names like sugar plum or honey bunches to annoy you lol. he will "sweetheart" you in a teasing way because he loves the way it makes you fume LOL. but in special circumstances, he'll call you sweetheart sincerely (also more likely when you're injured—"you're alright, sweetheart, we're almost to the motel"). idk if this counts as a pet name, but he'll definitely call you kid and kiddo if you're younger than him like how he does with charlie <3 i see him using darlin' very casually! "alright, c'mon darlin', let's see what sammy found." casual pet names means he's in a good mood though. he also will use insults like pet names because you're his idiot best friend <33

he won't tell you this but he likes if you've got a nickname for him, too! but he will tease you if you try to use the same pet names for him, even if you're casual about it in the same way he is.

⟢ taking care of you on bad/sick days : uhm yeah, he tries not to be obvious about it, but when he goes the the store just to pick up your favorite treat or kisses your forehead like fifty billion times when he thinks you're asleep, there's no way you can miss what a big softie he is. if the way you wear your hair allows, he'll brush any stray strands out of your face, especially if you're sick and it's stuck to your face with with sweat. checks your temperature on your forehead with his hand <3 then if he thinks you have a fever, he busts out the thermometer and takes your temp that way just to make sure you don't have to go to the hospital. he brings you your meds and lovingly bothers you about eating enough food. makes you watch movies with him lol

on days that are simply just bad, well, he's horrible with emotions, but he knows that pie and alcohol can fix almost anything (this is not true, but it still helps you to have a treat and a drinking buddy). while he's bad with emotions, he is absolutely more than willing to listen to anything you need to talk about. he's not sure how to tell you that he's there for you out loud, so he'll pour you another drink if you're not too drunk and rub your back with a soft, but firm hand. his go to phrase to comfort you is, "we'll figure it out," and it works because you know he really means it, and he says it in a soft and sweet tone that's quite rare for him.

⟢ physical affection : he can definitely be more reserved sometimes with touch, but he welcomes any physical affection that you initiate. if you purposefully stand shoulder to shoulder, he'll put his arm around you, and he'll certainly accept any hugs you have to offer. like you said, once he's even more comfortable and confident in your being around, he's much more open about swinging an arm around your shoulder and any given moment (especially because he can shove you around a little that way lmao).

he's definitely okay with the bed sharing, mostly because it's a necessity, though he tries to get you to share with sam much more once he realizes that you like each other because he can see sam physically become upset when you share with dean lmao.

movie nights are prime time for physical affection with dean!! i definitely agree that he puts his head in your lap first to annoy you, but when you don't bat an eye and start running your fingers through his hair, he's done for. he always is trying to get you to do it again, every time you watch something together, and that's when it gets annoying lmao, because he won't let you rest your head on his shoulder anymore or let you be the one to put you head in his lap. he'll make an exception if you're having a bad though hah. once again, he will dial down the cuddles if he can tell that it's bothering sam, but will absolutely not give up the physical affection with you because he thinks sam needs to get over it LOL. because, at the end of the day!! you'll always be his best friend, and he will always respect you and your relationship with sammy.

[thankskenpenders]

IDW's Fang the Hunter miniseries! All four issues are out now! I don't have as much to say about it as I did with the Knuckles show, but I do have some thoughts.

So! This is a pretty fun miniseries. I liked it.

It's fun to see Ian get to write a four-issue arc starring the Hooligans, his precious boys, with a B-plot showing Sonic and Tails' perspective on this little adventure. As always, Ian captures the characters' voices well. In particular, I really liked Bean in this, who despite being a slapstick screwball is actually a pretty perceptive guy. He often acts as sort of a voice of reason for Fang, seeing right through his sweet talking and pointing out how badly all of their schemes go but sticking around nonetheless just for funsies. And the art (illustrated this time by Mauro Fonseca for the first issue and Thomas Rothlisberger for the rest) is as good as we've come to expect from IDW's Classic Sonic output. Overall, this is a fun little romp that captures the vibes of the Classic era very well.

...But...

Well, as I've said before with the Amy and Tails anniversary specials, I feel like we're kind of seeing diminishing returns with these Classic spinoffs. They're fun, sure, and very nice to look at, but their writing always leave me wanting more.

A big part of this is just that there's just less to work with compared to the Modern universe. The Classic cast is much smaller, and within that cast there are a bunch of characters currently going unused, some of which are currently off-limits. Aside from the appearance of the Witchcarters in Tails' special, we've pretty much just stuck with the cast of Sonic Mania and the Hooligans, as established in the first special. No Chaotix, no Battle Bird Armada, barely any Honey. (Classic Vector was able to get a tiny cameo in the Amy special only because he was so obscured that it gave the IDW team plausible deniability to say it was actually a different character if Sega complained.) It's a very small box, and Ian's recent Classic comics haven't particularly expanded the boundaries of that box. They're just excuses to play the hits for old times' sake. And that was a lot of fun the first time around, but the novelty is starting to wear off for me.

I will admit, sure, the tighter focus on a specific set of characters from the games is a big part of the appeal of these Classic comics. They're simpler. They're nostalgic. They're shining the spotlight on characters that can't be used in the main series. They're the slavishly faithful old school Sonic comics that we could never get in the '90s, because the comics we did get diverged into their own continuities with tons of new characters. I get all that.

But the thing is, the Sonic comics have always added all those new characters because you can just do so much more with them. The game cast is great! But they're corporate mascots Sega keeps on a tight leash. You can do so much with a character like Sally or Surge that you could never do with any of the game characters, and by pushing into new territory with these new characters you can also bring out interesting new sides of the game cast. Maybe Sonic himself can't have some crazy complex character arc, but you can see how he'll respond to the things going on with these other characters, and how these other characters' arcs are informed by their relationships with Sonic.

So I look at the Fang miniseries, and I'm like. This was pretty fun. But by the end, what was the point of the story? What did we learn about the Hooligans as characters that we didn't already know? Is the point just to depict an adventure where things go off the rails a little and Bean and Bark end up a little miffed, explaining why they weren't with Fang in Superstars? There's potential for an arc there about the dissolution of the group, but it really does come off more as the type of spat these three probably get into all the time before coming back together for the next job. It's neither super dramatic nor super funny, feeling more like it ends on a fairly matter-of-fact note where Fang's like "welp, time to go do the events of Sonic Superstars" at the end, not particularly plussed by anything that happened in this arc. What we're left with is four issues of the Hooligans encountering recognizable characters and visiting recognizable locations from the Classic games, with little that really feels new or fresh here.

Ironically, the most interesting story element to me here (aside from Bean's characterization) is its tie to the main comics, something previous specials couldn't do since Sega had yet to reunify the Classic and Modern timelines. The plot of this comic revolves around Fang following the myth of the "eighth Chaos Emerald," riffing on both old playground rumors and Sonic the Fighters. What they actually end up finding isn't an extra Emerald, but rather the Warp Topaz that would eventually end up in Starline's possession in the Modern era, having apparently been found by the Hard-Boiled Heavies in the cave seen in the 900th Adventure special.

That's kinda neat, and the abilities of the Warp Topaz are used in fun ways. But this isn't exactly something to write home about for people who aren't lore nerds like me. There isn't a particularly meaningful connection between Fang and Starline's arcs here due to the presence of the Warp Topaz, it's just a thing for the wiki. Again, Ian's in his connect the dots mode a little more than I'd like here.

(...So wait, if Starline didn't find the Warp Topaz himself, did he track down the cave where the Heavies found it to leave that "greatness began here" graffiti? Eh, I guess that sounds like something he'd do. He's known for nothing if not his obsessiveness.)

So, again. This was a pretty good miniseries. This all makes it sound like I hated it, but I did like it overall. I particularly liked seeing the Hooligans fight the Hard-Boiled Heavies. But it leaves me feeling less fulfilled than something like Scrapnik Island or Tangle & Whisper or Imposter Syndrome. I get that, by the very definition of the word, Classic Sonic is always going to remain trapped in amber to some extent. This isn't the version of the franchise that's supposed to grow and change. That's what Modern Sonic does. Classic Sonic will always be trapped in the early '90s. I'm not asking for them to add a dozen new characters with complex dramatic arcs to the Classic comics, since that's not what Classic Sonic is about. But I think the other Classic Sonic stories not written by Ian - i.e. the driving school story by the McElroys and the two stories about Amy by Gale Galligan - show that you can tell fresh new Classic Sonic stories that aren't just about remixing the hits from the games.

If we're going to continue getting Classic Sonic comics from Ian (and I hope we do!), then I just hope he's able to find a better balance between familiar and new ideas, like he and Evan do so consistently with their Modern Sonic output.

[gabessquishytum]

That monster "slayer" Hob idea got me thinking: that, but Dream is a shapeshifter, and like half of the monsters Hob gets asked to deal with are just Dream, shapeshifted. Jury's out on whether this is a dramatic story (they keep meeting while Dream is shapeshifted into different creatures. he's finding himself getting attached to Hob, but he refuses to admit that to himself or let their relationship be something more. And maybe Hob is starting to catch on, and brings up that hey, Dream's current form reminds him a lot of the last four strikingly beautiful monsters he's had sex with, is there something Dream wants to tell him? and Dream storms off and gets caught by actual monster slayers and Hob saves him).

Or a story where this is their ye olde magical equivalent of pretending your spouse is a stranger and picking them up in a bar.

This is great. I personally like the idea that Dream keeps doing it and Hob pretends not to know, but really he can tell because Dream’s eyes are always the same. Whether he's a harpy or a kelpie or a vampire, those beautiful blue eyes always give him away.

Then Hob puts his foot in it and jokes that Dream must really like him if he's going to all this effort just to see him (and have sex with him). And Dream gets all YOU DARE, goes off in a huff, and immediately walks into a trap set by monster hunter Burgess. Burgess is thrilled to have caught a shapeshifter and can't wait to use Dream to commit evil deeds!

Hob obviously saves the day, but not for a while as he didn't know that Dream was in trouble. As a consequence, Dream only has the strength to shift into something very small and vulnerable, which fits right into Hob’s pocket. A tiny werecat, perhaps. Hob nurses him back to health, and soon enough the little werecat is a big werepanther, and those lovely blue eyes are seducing Hob back for another round of "slaying" - or rather, laying. Now Dream doesn't have to pretend to be a different personality each time he fucks Hob, it's much less effort but just as spicy and fun!

[yanderestarangel]

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 - 𝐁𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐒𝐔𝐁 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐓𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

TW: Primal play, dramatization, plot, porn plot, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, degradation, sub!reader, outdoor sex, ftm reader, afab anatomy.

You were married to grandmaster Bi Han, everyone was surprised when the great Sub zero, rude and cold, introduced you, But Bi Han also liked other types of sexual games, especially Hunter and prey, where you were the prey and he was the predator, where you intended not to even know him, this excited you both.

You ran barefoot through the forests while Bi Han walked like a cold monster, loving the feeling of you, his delicate companion, being like a scared little bunny. "-There's no point in hiding my boy, you're my prey, and I'll destroy you when I find you, my little bunny." -Bi Han said loudly, smiling when his smelled your wet pussy in the air.

You ran further, your feet hurt, as you tried to hide behind the big trees your breathing was loud the dress you wore was messy as you tried not to make noise, but, you were caught, Bi Han's thick and cold hands on your neck, Bi Han's grip tightened around your neck as he leaned in, you begged for mercy, saying you had a husband but he just smiled sadistically, his voice low and threatening.

"-Your husband means nothing to me, bunny. You belong to me now, and I'll make sure you understand that." His words were laced with dominance and possessiveness, making it clear that he had no intention of letting you go. He pressed your body against his, his bulge brushing against your clothed ass, making you feel his undeniable desire. Then, he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered "-You're a good boy, huh? Well, good boys obey their masters. You're going to do exactly as I say, understand?"

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered : "-And you know what, my little bunny? I'm going to give you exactly what you want. I'm going to fuck you, claim you as mine, until you're begging for mercy." Because that's what you secretly want, isn't it, a boy as beautiful as you, looking for cock out there."

His hand slid down, gripping your crotch tightly through your pants, his fingers pressing against your sensitive flesh. "-I can feel how wet you are, my little bunny. You can't hide your desire from me. Now, let's see how good you can be for your master." -Smirking, he pulled you tightly towards a nearby tree, his intentions clear as he prepared to make you his prey in the most primal way.

Bi Han let out a low laugh, his eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and hunger upon hearing their pleas. He grabbed your hips firmly, his touch rough and possessive as he positioned himself at your entrance.

"-You're just a toy for me, aren't you?" -He taunted, his words echoing in the cold night and dark forest. "-A little slut who craves my cock. Tell me, my boy, tell me how much you need it, beg me to fuck you until you cum on my cock."

He continued to pound into you mercilessly, relishing the sound of your moans and the way your body reacted to the rough treatment. The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the air, mixing with your screams of pleasure and the sounds of the surrounding forest, his nails digging into your flesh painfully. He used every ounce of his strength and stamina to push you closer and closer to the edge, determined to make you cum hard around his thick, throbbing cock.

"-You're going to take my cum inside you and beg for more. No one else can satisfy you like I can."

Pain mixed with pleasure as he slapped your ass, the burning sensation heightening your arousal. He watched with dark, lust-filled eyes as your pussy greedily swallowed his cock, reveling in the tightness and heat. He loved the way he could make you his little slut, using you for his pleasure without apology or mercy. With a growl, Bi Han moved his hand to his throat, exerting enough pressure to draw a sigh from you. He controlled his every breath, his dominance becoming clear under your body.

"-You're mine, my submissive little slut. You like it rough, huh? My whore." -He purred. "-You will take every inch of me, and I will make sure your pussy is filled to the brim with my cum in your womb." -Each impact causing the sound of skin hitting skin to echo through the forest. The intensity of his thrusts, along with the weight of his words and the pain mixed with pleasure, brought you closer to the edge. You could feel the orgasm spiraling inside you, ready to explode.

"-You like that, don't you? You love feeling my cock stretching you, penetrating your tight little hole. You're a slut for me, taking every inch of me without complaining."

But Bi Han isn't done with you yet. His dominant nature refused to let you finish so easily ciliously. With a growl, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled your head back, his lips dangerously close to your face.

"-You are not allowed to cum until I give you permission" -Bi Han growled, his voice was a dark and seductive order. "-You will beg and plead and squirm for it. Only when I decide you deserve it will I allow you to find release."

Bi Han's eyes shone with satisfaction as he listened to their desperate pleas. He had you right where he wanted you - begging, crying and completely at his mercy - Your vulnerability only fueled your sadistic desires as he savored the power he held over you. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he continued his relentless assault on your body, his thrusts becoming even more punishing, with each deep stroke, he hit every sensitive spot inside you, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy.

"-Look at you, my little slut. So desperate for release. But remember, you exist solely for my pleasure, and I decide when you can cum."

Bi Han's grip tightened on his hair, forcing you to look into his dark, dominant eyes. He leaned in, his warm breath brushing your cheek.

"-You will have to earn your orgasm, my boy. Show me how much you want it. Beg for it like the obedient slut I know you are."

Your screams and moans filled the air as you continued to beg, the intensity of his desire bordering on desperation. The mix of pleasure, pain, and emotional vulnerability sent waves of pleasure through your body.

You were teetering on the edge, your need to climax consuming you.

Bi Han's sadistic nature relished his torment. He thrived on pushing you to your limits, exploring your desires until you were on the brink of insanity. He reveled in the sight of your tears, your shaking body, and the raw need that radiated from every inch of your being. He gave one last thrust, while grunting holding you, spilling his semen into your uterus, watching your dirty pussy overflowing with his cum.

As the pleasure subsided and your ragged breaths filled the air, Bi Han held you close, this time with a gentle grip. He whispered in your ear "-Good boy. You pleased me. But remember, my little bunny, you are not finished yet you will satisfy all my desires until I am completely sated, I appreciate you very much ok? Thank you for surrendering to the my wishes (Y/N) I’m grateful to have married you." -Bi Han spoke softer, as he carried you out of the forest, like the good husband he was.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[angelcqre]

Mando!141 AU HCs Before I Start Writing

> crossposted from @charliemwrites ‘ lovely server

Soap is your typical mando. Fully customized kit, wanton usage of explosives, constantly cursing up a storm. Frequently on fire. His kit has been modified to allow for more motion with a flex breastplate and braces on the vambraces to allow for him to elbow a bitch. Armor colors are orange and green - a lust for life and duty. His beskar is inherited from a long line of ancestors, and he takes exceptionally good care of it. Concord Dawn prior to glassing.

Gaz is a bit more 'passing' as non-mando. Wears the breastplate, gauntlets, boots, typically tends to have his bucket off but whether that's because he can win more people over with his smile than his blaster is his own little secret. Coruscanti accent, quick with his blaster but can also wield vibroblades pretty adequately. BIG on the jetpacks. blue and green armor - reliability and duty. Got his kit from his great uncle when he retired and Gaz was, like, 14.

Ghost doesn't take his bucket off. Ever. At some point manages to get the darksaber - does not hold on to it. Dry, pops jokes every so often but otherwise kind of looms, speaks almost entirely in mando'a to his vod and it sounds real intimidating but if u understand what he's saying it's just like. the fucking tank joke. black and white armor - justice and fresh starts to commemorate his new life serving as a bounty hunter maybe? Full kit akin to ARC troopers in the clone wars with a big dark cloak thrown over top because he's dramatic. Has cobbled together the beskar over the years, didn't start out with a full kit but quickly earned it beating the shit out of scumbag mandos.

Price tends to have his bucket off about as much as he has it on - 50/50 split, mostly because it's easier to pretend he's not exasperated when he has his bucket on and his vocoder going. Green, light green and brown - duty, a desire for peace, and valor. Earned his beskar piece by piece. Directs his vod in mando'a because not a lot of people speak it which gives them a tactical advantage, but won't do it when they're not in the field like Soap or Ghost will because he considers it kind of rude.

[bambi-kinos]

Beatles Reading List (Introductory)

Hi guys. So I saw a post floating around asking about "where to start" with the Beatles and how to find out more about them. Moeexyz's recommendation on it was to read fanfiction and this alarmed me a bit. Fanfiction just isn't a good source to get information about the band for one simple reason: fanfic authors change stuff for dramatic purposes all the time. It's just not a great way to get more information about them because fanfiction by necessity shifts things around for the sake of storytelling.

That Beatles iceberg is nice but the only way you're going to get a good picture of the Beatles is by doing a lot of reading of published sources. That's right. You're in for a lot of homework.

In an effort to combat misinformation, I asked the McLennon discord server to help me put together a rough list of introductory level books for Beatle fans that want to learn more about the band. These books are either a) read by me or b) read by someone I trust and I have included her quotes about the books she liked. I'll have color commentary talking about what they are and why they should be read. I do not consider this post finished! My server is constantly reading and discussing (we're looking at podcasts right now because they're the ones doing interviews with Liverpool citizens who were peers of the Beatles!) and they're being very gracious by contributing to this list. That means that this post may be updated in the future as I read more! If you want to keep up with updates then give my blog a follow, I'll post every time I update this list.

Some of these books are available on Archive.org but others can be gotten through your local library or through piracy. If you buy something, buy it used. Never pay more than $20 for a Beatle book.

The Whole Story

Anthology This is the documentary made by the band after John Lennon's death in 1980. It is both a documentary as well as a book (essentially a script of the documentary) which makes it very accessible. This is the version of the story that the band wanted to put out and includes interviews with Paul, George, and Ringo. They cover their beginning to their end. Anthology can be found on archive.org if you want to read it: https://archive.org/details/beatlesanthology0000unse_y2k8 The episodes are also available on Archive.org. If you search for "Beatles Anthology" and select "movies" option to search for videos then you will find it there. It's worth the watch and is all around the best introduction to the Beatles.

The Beatles - Hunter Davies This is the only sanctioned biography of the band. It's written in older language since it is contemporary to the 1960s but it's still very readable and a good intro. It is part of the media image that the band wanted to present at the time so you should make sure to think about what you are reading, who is saying what, and contemplate why he is saying it. It it still a great resource.

150 Glimpses of the Beatles - Craig Brown This is a short book that describes 150 anecdotes about the Beatles and what it was like to experience them. I recommend this because it demonstrates what a unique and personal experience the Beatles are while also demonstrating their global reach and how they became the most famous rock band in the world. It's a short read but a good one and there are many charming and thought provoking anecdotes in it. The story of the Beatles is just as much about their fans as it is about the band and you cannot understand one without looking at the other.

Books About Each Beatle

This particular section is a bit of a minefield. Many books written about the Beatles are of questionable veracity or just out and out wrong. (I can think of two that were written as blatant cash grabs and filled with libel that someone should have been sued over.) My recommendations on this may change so please check back from time to time! John Lennon

The John Lennon Letters - John Lennon, edited by Hunter Davies Primary source documents of the various letters and missives John wrote through his life. This may be the most important book on the list because it shows us who John really is: just another ordinary guy like us, trying to get through life. Also gives insight into his mindset as the decades pressed on.

The Making of John Lennon - Francis Kenny This is a very vital and heartbreaking read for people who want more insight into John. John Lennon is the most famous Beatle but he is also the one who's image is the most obscured and distorted. Francis Kenny is a Liverpool native who puts John in his proper context. To quote my server friend who read this one: Kenny, himself a Liverpudlian, takes into account how life in Liverpool in the first half of the 20th century shaped not only John but everyone he knew and his entire family. Mimi and Julia get a good critical view, and Uncle George gets his moment in the sun. He also lays out how class divides affected the Stanleys and then how Mimi took it out on John and Julia. He quotes a 1880s travel guide of London that said Liverpool was called "the New York of Europe," because of its economy and place on the ocean, and like in the Gilded Age New York that was happening concurrently across the ocean, Liverpool had pockets of wealth and splendor surrounded by poverty and rough living. Definitely a pro-read and a great insight into the culture and time John lived in. It does not fall into the pitfalls of hero worshipping John but Francis Kenny still treats John with sympathy and respect, hard qualities to come by when it comes to the cashgrabs written about John and his family.

John - Cynthia Lennon John's first wife, Cynthia, wrote two autobiographies about herself and John. This is one of them. It's a tough read in many places but a good one. Hers is a voice that doesn't shy away from John's flaws and actions but she also takes care to tell us why she and so many other people love him and remain loyal to him.

Paul McCartney

Many Years From Now - Barry Miles This is Paul's only sanctioned biography. It is formatted as a quasi-interview with Paul where there are interruptions of regular prose in each chapter. There are eyebrow raising moments where you can tell Paul is not quite telling the truth but it's important to read and identify these moments since Paul's habit of embroidering the truth is important to know and understand. Nonetheless it is still a lot more honest than I was expecting when I read it.

Paul McCartney: A Life - Peter Ames Carlin Probably the best Paul McCartney biography on the market. Peter Ames Carlin also did a similarly great bio of Paul Simon for people who are into that. To quote my friend Betty who read it: Paul gets to be a whole person here: the preternaturally talented boy wonder, the guy casting around for meaning, the less than attractive moments and qualities described without getting preachy or turning to [Paul Derangement Syndrome]. Carlin treats him with dignity instead of something to be gawked at and gossiped about. His (many) sources are cited at the end of the book. What I really appreciated was the ideas he put forth that I've only seen on Tumblr and not in Serious Official Biographies, which says to me he's writing as a fan and scholar and not a journalist trying to fill column inches.

George Harrison

I Me Mine - George Harrison Make sure to get the extended edition! George Harrison in his own words. There's a lot to say about this biography but it won't make much sense without context so I just encourage you to read it. George Harrison was, in my opinion, the best Beatle.

George Harrison: Behind the Locked Door - Graeme Thomson A good no bullshit biography about George Harrison. This covers his life as the material musician and the man seeking the divine. Graeme worked very hard to be respectful of George and his life, did extensive interviews with George's wife Olivia. Such a pro-read and definitely the best George biography written to date.

Ringo Starr

Photograph - Ringo Starr Ringo has stated that this book is his autobiography. In a few bumpers on the Beatles Sirius XM channel Ringo says that he doesn't want to write a biography like the others did but he was happy with putting this photobook together and essentially writing a bio through the captions. This is the closest that we will get for a biography for him as of right now. In time that may change but this is your best option. Piracy is the way to go when it comes to getting a copy of this, iirc it was a limited run and getting a physical copy might be very expensive these days.

Brian Epstein

A Cellarful of Noise - Brian Epstein/Derek Taylor This autobiography was ghostwritten by Brian's assistant Derek Taylor. It's not a tell-all but Brian talks about his youth and how he met the Beatles, including giving his own personal (and accurate) insights into each band member.

Conclusion

There are many, many books about the Beatles. Almost all of them offer something but most are about very niche periods in the Beatles history. When it comes to understanding the band I tried to put together a list where you can get an overview of the band and then read materials that either come straight from the Beatle in question or are not as biased as the competition. I am a McLennon shipper but for a post like this I did my best to recommend books that don't have that kind of bias in them so this is a list you can send to non-shipper friends haha.

In another post I will put together a history book list in the order of their timeline as a band, starting from the Quarrymen and on to the present. There is a LOT of ground to cover in a historical arrangement and it will take a while to compile. Please check back here regularly or give me a follow: whenever I update this post or make a new list, I'll make sure to post about it.

My plan is to make a website with all of this information that anyone can reference but it will take a long long time to make such a thing so put a pin in that one.

[yzy-dragon]

I absolutely ADORED S2E9 "Three Stories" of Link Click and was a bit surprised to see the discontent here on Tumblr, and I totally understand the reasons why people didn't like it, especially in the context of the pacing of the rest of S2 (which I also have some opinions on but I won't talk about that here), but I also felt the need to just get my heart out why I love it so much. A bit of background, I'm Chinese American but have lived in and visited China numerous times.

Music and theater. As a western classical musician and an amateur Chinese opera singer enthusiast (I saw someone else post about the possible inspo this episode got from Chinese opera), I VIBED with the artistic direction of this episode SO much. The three-part structure was almost like a sonata/symphony (and remember that one scene where Qian Jin was air-conducting in a previous episode!!) or scene changes in a Chinese opera. Nothing needs to be said about the animation style that hasn't been said already, but I like how scenes from the three individual "stories" were interwoven and reused like leitmotifs. Especially that crazy, tortured laughter. Idk if any of the parallels were intentional on the part of the director, but it's what I got from it due to my personal experiences. I know that's a highly subjective takeaway though, which brings me to my next point....

Qian Jin's "tragic" backstory. I know a lot of people were upset that the extent of Qian Jin's tragic backstory was "oh his wife cheated on him", but I think the "basicness" of his struggles was the whole point (by the way, this segment displayed various attitudes towards work, family, marriage, individual pride, and life in mainland China so subtly but so well!). I also don't think sympathy was the main thing we were supposed to feel for him, although of course there is some. The whole "tragicomedy" aspect of Qian Jin's story is that it's not some horrible, terrible, rare thing that happened to him, but a common problem faced by so many hardworking but busy married men trying to provide for their families: infidelity. But Qian Jin sees himself as the main character of an elaborate play that rivals the great dramatic classics (which, funnily enough, often depicted very DRAMATIZED versions of a rather basic series of events). And his viewpoint is validated when....

Qian Jin meets the twins. That segment is still largely from Qian Jin's perspective, because we still don't really know how LTC and LTX even feel about him. But for Qian Jin, it's a stroke of fate and fortune that could only possibly happen in theater. He's very far removed from reality at this point. Reality is that a cop whose job it is to investigate violent crime comes across two kids who are the victims of a violent crime. Again, nothing particularly special or even coincidential. It's comical like that.

The fairy tale section.  Unlike the first two, I think this segment is from Xixi’s perspective, which not only justifies the cartoony artstyle but also makes it heartbreaking, due to her childlike innocence.  Like Qian Jin, she also perceives her reality as something it’s not, but unlike him, she doesn’t have delusions of grandeur of being a tragic protagonist.  It’s just a little fox trying to survive in a forest full of predators and hunters.  

All that tortured laughter. I’ve actually noticed in a lot of Chinese media that they like to use laughter as a way of signifying a person’s complete mental breakdown due to the tragedies they’ve suffered.  It’s a very internal thing that has people on the outside going, “WTF?”  In this episode we have a lot of characters crazily laughing together at the same time and it seems like they’re relating to each other, but in reality they’re all trapped in their own nightmarish hells and motivated by selfish purposes. 

Back to the topic of Qian Jin, even though he (innaccurately) may see himself as the hero of his own story, it's not enough for him. He wants to use Cheng Xiaoshi to change the past. He wants to become the director of the play.

I know a lot of people were disappointed this episode didn't advance the plot, especially in regard to Cheng Xioashi and Lu Guang's storylines, but I was actually prepared for a backstory episode and couldn't have been more satisfied. Again, I have other opinions on the rest of S2 but at least standalone, I think this episode was nearly perfect. And I really wasn't expecting this, but it's really elevated Qian Jin to one of my top characters.

[animelovelover123]

Devil May Cry Boys x Pornstar/Webcam Model

Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V, & Sparda x Reader

Synopsis: How the DMC boys would react, deal with, and treat you if you were a porn star and/or a webcam model (aka camgirls and camboys). Note that your insert has willingly chosen and enjoys this career path.

Disclaimer: I do mention your insert possibly smacking a guy for a very inappropriate comment as a joke. Do not do this in real life. Your feelings are valid but violence is usually not the answer

Trigger Warnings: Brief references to some of the negative aspects of the entertainment industry like stalking, drugs, STDs, and assault.

Dante

Dante is, by far, the most relaxed and supportive of you when you tell him. To him, it's just another form of work. A bit of a dirty kind of job but as a demon hunter he also does dirty work. As long as you are doing this because you want to and not because you are being pressured or forced in any way then he supports you and your career. Perhaps he supports it a bit too much though because once he finds out he is adamant about helping you.

He wants to fuck you on camera so bad. It would be so hot. Plus, what amazing jerk-off material that would be, not that he doesn't find your videos and jerks off to them anyway once you tell him your stage name. You can put his body and face on camera all you want, he doesn’t mind.

He is quite a versatile co-star, ready and willing to do pretty much anything. It also helps that he is stronger, faster, and heals quicker than most so if you or your audience wants to see you be fucked while suspended by his muscular arms or some BDSM, he is down for it. He says he is up for acting out scenarios, but he is quite hokey with it.

If you team up with other stars or go to events with them also attending, you will find that he knows quite a few of them. And I don’t mean that he simply recognizes them from their work. He has met them, had conversations, been hired to help protect them when being hunted by lust-based demons and obsessed fans, and maybe slept with one or two.

As a sexual entertainment star, having people ask you for sex was common. But having people asking for sex with your boyfriend is definitely a new experience.

This also means that he won't be trying to use you to meet other porn stars that he is a fan of. Although... if you can get Dominique Tereshkova to sign his poster of her, that would be sweet.

If you are required to fuck someone for your job, he is fine with that. He understands it's just work and doesn’t take it personally. Though he will playfully pout and whine a bit.

"Why didn’t you ask me to be your co-star baby?" He asked with a hand dramatically clutching his chest over his heart. His other hand sneaks around your hips and pulls you against his chest so he can whisper into your ear. "You know there's no one that can please you like I can." After that he lets you go, off to do your job with the seed of longing planted for when you reunite.

For anyone who doesn’t know, Dominique Tereshkova is a model in the DMC universe. Her most prominent appearance is in the opening cutscene of the first game. Dante grabs his sword from the wall which is covering the boobs of a model on a poster. Dominique Tereshkova is that model.

Reboot Dante

When you tell Dante he has the bright idea to make the joke “That’s fine, I’ve fucked plenty of sluts before.” He is surprisingly understanding if you choose to smack him for this and/or give him the cold shoulder for a while. Alternatively, he likes you a bit more if you laugh.

In general he does not mind you being a sexual entertainer. Though, because of his lifestyle, he will assume that you are doing this because the world is shit and you don’t have a choice. When you tell him that you chose this career he thinks you’re smart. “Getting paid to fuck? Sounds great, assuming you don’t get a potluck of STDs.”

In general Dante knows a bit more about the sex industry, the positives and negatives. How it can be full of free things, parties, drugs, and assaults.

Despite acting casual, he worries about you and puts up no complaints if you want to visit the doctor every few weeks, use him as a bodyguard, or call him at odd hours to ask if he can pick you up and escort you places.

If you are a camgirl/boy, he is not as well-versed in that subsection of the industry and will ask you about it.

Either way, he will joke about the hundreds of “fat ugly fucks getting their rocks off to you”.

He will definitely ask you to introduce him to top stars which he will casually make perverted jokes at, but no matter what he will be going home with you. Even if he gets to meet the hottest and most desirable actress/actor in the country, he would not go behind your back to sleep with them. Although, if you are interested in a three-way then he is down with it.

He personally isn’t interested in being part of your work. No real reason, just not into it. But if you really beg him, you can convince him.

He will brag to everyone that he is dating a pornstar/camgirl/boy. It’s a boost to masculine pride that his woman/man is drooled over by hundreds of people.

Once he finds out your stage name he does look up one or two of your past works out of curiosity. Then he proceeds to tease you about some of the things you had to do for the camera.

There is one particular thing he notices though that, after some testing to make sure his suspicion is correct, he gets a jolt of pride from.

That face you do and the sounds you make in your videos/livestreams when you cum… that’s fake, acted. It has to be because when he fucks you your orgasms are a lot more intense.

Seeing as the reboot is more realistic with the depiction of the world and how it treats people, I thought this was a good spot to address some of the dangers without going too deep into it because we are just trying to have fun here. Feel free to do your own research if you are curious.

Vergil

Upon finding out that you are working in the sex industry, Vergil questions what the world is trying to tell him as destiny has made his second love another sexual entertainer.

Although he makes a vow to himself that he will not run away this time. He is not the same teenager who acts cold and distant out of fear of making connections because of the trauma he experienced with losing his family and everything he cared about in the past.

After all he has been through, he…doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

You, even after finding out about his past and the catastrophic mistakes he has made from a blind pursuit of power, still wanting to be with him, to give him a chance, that means more to him than you will ever know.

He wants to do right by you, give you all of him, but it is not that easy. He still has a cold outward demeanor, speaking frankly and keeping his feelings to himself for the most part, and can come off as rude or uncaring at times.

For example; if you ask him if he is really okay with your job and what it entails, he gives you a serious expression, which looks like a glare, and tells you “As I have said before, your choice of career is of no concern to me”.

He is doing his best to express himself, give him time.

He, knowing the danger that wo/men of the night go through from his past lover, insists on watching over you during shoots or live streams. He will sit there, out of the way, staring intently at all that interact with you like an overprotective knight.

Vergil, by now, knows what you enjoy in bed and what you don’t. So, when your co-star does something or the director or a fan requests you to do something he knows you do not enjoy, he will intervene. He has gotten into arguments with people for not putting your pleasure first and making you uncomfortable. Vergil does not understand, or like, that when you work for someone else or rely on others gifting you money, you sometimes have to do things you don’t quite like.

This, along with his instinctual desires to control, protect, and dominate, leads him to work towards easing your financial burdens and providing for you. If, through being a demon hunter and procurer of artifacts to sell, he can make enough money to support you both then you will not have to work, correct?

His intent is to make your life easier and have you rely on him like no one has done since he was a child, with a hint of wanting you to only look at him for sexual satisfaction. However, sometimes he can come off as being overbearing and possibly a bit too traditional in his views of “stronger man must be the one providing for the family”. He does not intend to insult or minimize your desire for independence.

He will not stop you from pursuing your career though if that is what you truly want. He honestly respects you for standing up for yourself and taking your life into your own hands, even if when you tell him this you get to see one of his rare pouts.

He has no intention of participating in your work. He is not a trusting or open person so doing something so explicit and being so vulnerable in front of others is a horrifying idea. However, in his pursuit of protecting you from co-stars, directors, and fans who pressure you to do things that will not bring you pleasure, he has occasionally given little demonstrations on how to treat you right.

He acts calm about you having to be intimate with, and in front of, others as it is what your job entails. On the inside though his possessive demon side burns with frustration whenever he sees you with someone else, especially when he sees you being subject to acts that he knows you do not particularly enjoy.

His answer to this, to settle his own feelings and aid in lifting yours, is to whisk you away after your work so he can give you all the pleasure and satisfaction you were wrongly deprived of.

A good chunk of this is influenced by the fan theory that Vergil did love Nero’s mother and the fact that, in the novel, Nero is picked on by others who claim he is the son of a “prostitute”, though whether she was actually a sex worker is unconfirmed. I thought, with you in this situation being a sexual entertainer, it would be interesting to bring in Vergil’s possible past with sexual entertainers.

Reboot Vergil

Vergil does not have an interest in the sexual entertainment field as he is much too busy with The Order and its goals. And it is this focus on his goal that led to you two meeting.

Porn has always been another way the demons have controlled the human masses, and this new age has widened their reach through sexual webcam modelling. All the top stars are part of big sexual model industries that are run by demons and as such they are a target for The Order. You, though, despite being one of the top people in the industry, are an independent entertainer so not under the control of demons. You are able to get in touch with all the top demon scum but do not have loyalty to them, and it is this unique circumstance that leads to you being conscripted into The Order as a spy.

It starts with a “random fan”, spending the money to get some private time with you. But when you meet them, whether in person or through a video chat, instead of 15 minutes of playing to some person’s fantasy, you are instead met with the masked man from all the news stories telling you the frightening truth of the world.

After becoming a spy for The Order, your relationship with Vergil grew as you spent time together discussing plans and you explaining to him how the industry worked and what you could do for info without being seen as suspicious or, worse, blacklisted.

To be frank, he thought you were lesser than him when first meeting, though that was more because you were human and not Nephilim. But still, he had the assumption that you gave in to the pressures of this demon-run world that claims the only thing gorgeous people like you are good for is doing sexual entertainment.

He is fascinated when you reveal that, despite having other opportunities, you actually chose this career and enjoy it. As you explain to him how you got to this point, the freedom and hard work it takes to be an independent creator, his respect for you grows, along with his affection.

You start dating with him being fully aware of what you do. He understands if you are required to have sex with other people for your job, as he too has had to do some unsavoury things for the sake of his mission. However, he also insists that once his plan is complete you can quit your job, instead living in comfort and luxury with him. He is adamant about this, even if you tell him you would prefer to keep working as an entertainer.

Being that you are both public figures, it is not uncommon for one or both of you to be recognized when out together and within a couple of weeks your relationship has become headline tabloid news. For the most part, people are shocked and question why Vergil, the (as far as the public knows) innocent man orphaned at a young age, adopted by a kind rich family, and so gifted in codding that he had made millions and built his own company before being legally allowed to drink, was hanging around someone like you. The words ‘whore’, ‘prostitute’, ‘slut’, and if you were lucky ‘arm candy’, were the things usually used to describe you.

Vergil, even at the risk of his squeaky clean façade, defended you, and almost all wo/men in the sexual entertainment industry, at every opportunity.

“Singers sell their voice, models sell their face and figure, and scientists sell their minds. What is so wrong about a person selling their body? Besides, straight men are celebrated for their sexuality and praised for their sexual prowess, yet men of any other sexuality and women are vilified for being confident in themselves and doing the same. It is hypocritical and I, for one, will not stand for it.”

This gamble ends up paying off in that it gains respect from much of the younger population and angers much of the older and conservative population enough to start complaining, which leads to fights and mockery. It is the usual perpetual circle that comes with the difference in morals between generations. In short, it gets eyes off of you two for the most part, though you do get a spike in fans because of the fiasco.

You also get people asking if you could convince Vergil to participate in your work with you, which he refuses. He respects your job but personally, he is not comfortable with showing his body off to people he does not fully trust. This is a man who wears a long-sleeved shirt and pants under a full-length coat with gloves in every season. This is just who he is and what he is comfortable with, and he hopes you can respect his feelings as he respects yours.

He does not watch any of your work unless he is there to monitor when you are acting as a spy and trying to get information out of people. Again, this is nothing against you or your work, but things like porn or even live displays like strip shows were never that entertaining to him.

Besides, why long for you from the other side of the screen when he has you at his beck and call?

This might sound odd, but with Vergil working to gather information and destroy the society Mundus created, I could see him shmoozing women in high society for information.

Nero

Nero, due to the conservative hold The Order of the Sword had over Fortuna and the mockery he got for his mother, supposedly, being a sex worker, Nero’s views of sex work and sexual entertainment are not the best. Still, he has always been curious, and craved, things outside of the suffocating religion, and once he got out of Fortuna his world opened up, so he tries to be open-minded when you tell him about your chosen career.

It will take him a bit to get used to the idea and settle his protectiveness and jealousy over you showing your body off to other people.

Honestly, he finds it kind of hot that you are so confident in, and comfortable with, yourself to do that sort of thing.

The first time you have to have sex with someone else after getting together though, he gets legitimately upset. It isn’t that he thinks you are cheating on him or being dirty. It is more so his insecurities and desperation to be number one in your heart that makes him insist you call it off.

He tentatively admits that he wants to be part of some of your work.

This starts with him using his engineering skills to build you various pleasurable devices that you can use in your videos. It is admittedly very satisfying to see you on screen being fucked by some mechanism he created. It was a little secret between just the two of you, almost like he was vicariously fucking you on camera. And yet… that was not satisfying enough.

Honestly, fucking you to an audience is kind of a tantalizing idea. It itches the proud side of him that likes to show off how beautiful and sexy and perfect his lover is.

However he could not bear to have people he knows come across the video or livestream and recognize him, ESPECIALLY not his adoptive or newly rediscovered blood family.

When the idea of doing POV porn or just generally being a faceless man while the camera focuses on you, never showing his face, comes up it sounds like a good compromise. The only problem is his damn arm.

No one has a demon arm or mechanical arm quite like him so it is easily recognizable and would give him away. There is the option, after losing his arm, of just having his stub since there were thousands of amputees in the world. However, the moment he notices negative comments about it he nixes that out of fear of making you lose your audience and livelihood.

In the end he just has to learn to resist the urge to talk or grab you with his right hand when filming together. This is fine with POV shots or when he works the camera as his right arm is occupied. It is a big struggle when he does not have anything else to do with his hands though. It also doesn’t help that he is a talker.

In most videos and/or livestreams he breaks this self-imposed rule. He can’t help it. You make him feel so damn good. And seeing you splayed out, hearing your loud moans and cries, he can’t resist the urge to mark you with his teeth and grab you with both hands so he can slam into you harder.

I will take every chance I get to bring up Nero’s engineering skills because it does not get enough attention for my liking. Also Nero’s lack of self-control but that’s just because I find it hot.

You know that the moment that practically any of the DMC crew finds out that Nero is in pornographic videos, he is never going to hear the end of it. Poor Nero, lol.

V

V does not bat an eye when you tell him what you do for a living as he is a man of art and little shame.

He has read and seen countless works of art depicting the natural and euphoric act of embracing another in the most intimate way. And, in a way, V sees your work as art in its own right, meant to make viewers feel not just emotions but physical sensations through just observing. It’s impressive the extent to which your fans worship you and your body despite having never met you in person and most not having spoken to you.

He also has no qualms about other people seeing your naked form. First and foremost, it is your body and who and to what extent you show it to others is not his choice to make, even as your love. Again, he has seen and read many works of art depicting people with little to no coverings. He has also experienced being naked in public as for the first couple months of his life he was homeless, left to bathe in bodies of water and steal his clothes, so claiming it is wrong for you to show your body would be hypocritical in his eyes.

He will not use you to meet other sexual entertainers both because he does not really watch porn, but also because he is more interested in people’s minds rather than their bodies and he doubts he can get any of them to sit down and have a serious discussion with him.

He does not mind if you have to have do someone else for your art because, as he puts it in his silky smooth deep voice, “they can have sex with you, but only I can make love to you.”

However if you mention how good a co-star was at something or how you found a new sexual interest through having to do it for work, V will suddenly start incorporating that more into your own intimate moments, doing his best to go above and beyond to please you.

Even with this, he is not all that interested in participating in your work, but if you were to ask him to, he would gladly do it to make you happy. He does not mind others seeing you two making love, though he does have trouble resisting his natural urges, like whispering sweet nothings into your ear and drawing out the pleasure by slowly grinding against and into you, to please the audience.

However, all this would be different if your form of sexual entertainment was, instead, audio-based. If you created stories of lust and voice acted them out, which was a form of sexual entertainment growing in popularity lately, then V would be a lot more invested. He would want to learn all about it, help you write scripts, and even voice act and narrative with you.

Together you two would weave epic tails filled with love, drama, and boundless lust. You end up becoming an extremely popular duo and even peek your head into the mainstream.

One side effect of this is that V becomes very good at getting you riled up with just his voice. The amount of times you will get random calls from V who, sometimes as himself and sometimes playing a character, whisks your imagination away to pleasures untold only to stop just before the peak with a suggestion that you finish this “in person”, is unbearable.

I am an enjoyer of the auditory sexual entertainment field. Right now I am listening to YSF Audio, Yagami Yato, Leon Kennedy ASMR (this is their YouTube and Patreon name), and Seikyuu VA but I have listened to many more. I love it and think V’s voice would be perfect for it. If I had the money to hire Brian Hanford, oh lordy loo, I would be drowning in the best auditory experience of my life! ^///^!

Sparda

Sparda is not up to date with human technology and culture so when you tell him you are a porn star or webcam module he does not know what that means. If you tell him you are a sexual entertainer though he responds with “I see, so you work at a brothel then?” You’ll need to educate him.

When he does finally understand he doesn’t bat an eye. He sees nothing wrong, questionable, or even strange about your choice of career. Honestly, he is more fascinated by the technology humans have to capture and transmit video and the economy built around it.

Sparda is a demon. He comes from a world where murder, assault, breeding, kidnapping, and all manner of things seen as horrible by most humans are more common than politely meeting each other. So the idea that you display your body and let yourself be recorded doing sexual acts as a job does not phase him. If anything, he is happy to know that you get compensated for this rather than it being forced upon you like it is often done in the demon world.

He does, however, have a problem with you having sex with other people deep down, especially if you bring that person into your shared home. The animalistic side of his nature flairs up at the scent of other people on you and in the home. At his core, he is still a demon who desires to dominate and protect what he cares for.

He is reformed through, having woken up to justice and chosen to live with, learn from, and protect humans. So he tries to stay calm and gentlemanly, doing things like greeting you when you come back from a shoot or finish a livestream as if you have just come home from your job at the local grocery store. “Welcome home dear, how was work? Anything exciting happen?”

You can tell when he is particularly bothered when he becomes more touchy, insisting that he hold you, you sit in his lap, or generally wanting to nuzzle against you so he can replace the scent of a stranger on you with his own.

And, to the surprise of many, one of your icons, one could even call it a type of beauty mark, that starts defining your performance persona is the fanged bite marks that always seem to be present somewhere on your person.

Literally, the starting point for Sparda being in this one is because I wanted to make the brothel joke.

[jenanigans1207]

1/5/25: Reputation

If there’s one thing Dean Winchester knows, it’s that he has a reputation.

Whether he’s known as the Righteous Man, the Michael Sword, the man who both started and ended the apocalypse, the man who, for all intents and purposes, killed God— he couldn’t go damn near anywhere where people hadn’t heard of him. He was the perfect killer, he was ruthless, bloodthirsty, unforgivable. He was determined, stubborn, reckless. Everywhere he went, his name was whispered in shadows, stories of things he did and did not do circulating around him.

Even Sam thought of Dean as his Big Brother— role model, protector, unwavering supporter. And while Sam’s opinion of him was wholly good, it still came with a sort of mold that Dean felt like he had to fit into.

The only person who didn’t put any expectation on him, the only one who didn’t have any sort of preconceived notion of who he was or what he was supposed to be or do was Cas. To Cas, Dean was just.. Dean. He wasn’t anything more spectacular or more despicable than that— he was just his completely unguarded self, whether he wanted to be or not.

If someone were to ask another hunter about Dean, they would probably tell some dramatic story of something he did. If they were to ask some monster about Dean, they’d talk about how he probably murdered everyone they ever loved. If they were to ask Sam about Dean, Sam would gush about what a great brother he was, how reliable he was, how he always came through when it mattered. But if someone were to ask Cas about Dean, well.

Cas would probably talk about how Dean’s favorite shade of blue is the sky at exactly 5:37 in the morning when the sun is just barely starting to rise, the black fading away to bring in the start of a new day. Cas would talk about how everyone thinks Dean’s favorite food is pie, but his consumption of burgers would certainly suggest otherwise. Cas would talk about Dean’s music choices and his movie choices and how you wouldn’t expect one if you only knew the other. He wouldn’t think to say a goddamn thing about Dean’s anger issues, trust issues— issues. Just, issues.

Even though they met strictly because of the fact that Dean was both the Righteous Man and the Michael Sword, Cas never thought of him as those things. And sometimes Dean likes to sit there and blame it on the fact that Cas not only saw but cradled his literal soul— that Cas found him when he was at his worst and his weakest and literally put him back together piece by piece. He likes to think that Cas looks past all his bluster and bullshit because he has seen the real color of Dean’s soul.

And while Dean knows that’s at least partly true, he also knows that isn’t the only thing. Because the rest of the truth comes from the fact that Cas simply cares. And that’s not to say that Sam doesn’t care— of course he does— but Sam has Dean put firmly in this box in his head and so when he looks at Dean, that’s what he sees. But Cas always wants to know more, wants to keep learning about Dean. It’s almost like he purposefully doesn’t box Dean into some category in his head because he wants to be able to expand it at will, to shift and alter the perception as he learns more about Dean. Cas wants so badly to know everything about Dean that he spends all his time pretending that he knows nothing, so he pays attention to every detail.

“Hey,” Dean turns his head to the side, glancing over to where Cas is perched on the bed next to him, reading some encyclopedia that is equally giant and boring, trying to gain information for the case they’re about to head out on.

True to everything Dean has known about Cas from the moment they met, Cas immediately and without hesitation abandons what he had been doing to look up. “Yes, Dean?”

Dean meets his blue eyes and then glances away because it’s too much, somehow, even though it never feels like enough. He glances over Cas’s shoulder to stare at one of the guns he has hung on his wall. He briefly considers turning back to stare at the same water stain on his ceiling that he’d been looking at while mulling over these thoughts, but he doesn’t want to turn away from Cas. “I just—” He pauses for a moment, takes in a deep breath, and then forces himself to meet Cas’s gaze directly. “I don’t know if I’ve ever said thanks, And you deserve to hear that.”

Cas looks equal parts touched and confused with a hint of confusion there, too. “For what?”

And Dean knows there isn’t really a way to encompass everything he’s thankful for. He knows there aren’t words to truly express the depth of the impact Cas has had both on Dean’s life and on Dean himself. Dean doesn’t know how to tell him that Cas is the only place he feels like he can be himself, the only place where he feels like the bare bones of who he is matters and is enough. So instead, he lets out a shaky exhale and murmurs, “Everything.”

And in that way Cas always does, he seems to understand exactly what Dean means. It’s as if he can hear the multitudes of feelings and unspoken words hidden in those syllables, like he can feel the weight of what Dean’s feeling. And maybe that’s their profound bond, connecting them in a way that isn’t physical. Or maybe that’s just because Cas sees Dean and understands Dean at his most fundamental level. Maybe it’s because Cas loves him in a way that is as fierce as Dean loves him in return.

Cas just smiles and kisses him.

[changingplumbob]

CW: Low level sim spice, language - Guide to content warnings

Sun poured in the windows and on to the bed. Glenn loved being outside but a nice sun ray inside could be good to. While he was playing absentmindedly with a tennis ball Silver lay beside him scribbling away.

They had officially been courting for a year and while Glenn thought asking Silver to get a place of their own would result in a great woohoo session it had instead resulted in the werewolf deciding to make a pros and cons list about every single neighbourhood he'd ever visited.

That left Glenn horny and bored, not a great combo.

Glenn: Are you done yet

Silver: If by done you mean all the places that start with A then yes

Glenn: You can't have actually been to that many places

Silver: I'm ancient remember, I've been lots of places

Glenn: True. It must be a lot when you're 207

Silver: I wouldn't know because I'm not 207

Glenn: *sighs* But I want to fuck

Silver: And I want to make sure we don't move somewhere in hunter territory. Which of those things is more important

Glenn: Definitely my pixel parts

Silver: I thought you were practicing making the ball hover

Glenn: I was like... three hours ago

Silver: *smirking* Dramatic much Babycakes

Glenn: You know you like me dramatic

Silver: I do but I'm trying to focus on our future

Glenn: All I need is you, four walls, a roof and a dragon

Silver: Excuse me?

Glenn: I could be argued down to three walls

Silver: I meant the dragon

Glenn: Oh. Would you not want a dragon

Silver: Can't say I've ever seen a dragon. Kind of thought they were a myth

Glenn: Says the werewolf who is in love with a spellcaster

Silver: If they are real something tells me they don't make great house pets

Glenn: I mean yeah, the bigger ones couldn't even get inside a house

Silver: See

Glenn: But there are smaller ones

Silver: How does one get a dragon? They're not trafficked are they

Glenn: I mean magical creatures sometimes are but there are legitimate channels for the domesticated ones

Silver: If you tell me there's a dragon rescue down the road-

Glenn: Not down the road but- Would you let me have a dragon

Silver: Not in our bedroom

Glenn: So that's a maybe for in the house

Silver: I don't know. How are they with kids

Glenn: Some breeds are great, super protective of them

Silver: Okay well what I don't need is one breathing fire at me if I tell a kid off for making a mess

Glenn: No I know, I wouldn't let you get burned Beefcake

Silver: I can't get burned

Glenn: That's what I'm saying

Silver: Yes and I'm saying werewolves can't get burned. My clothes could get incinerated but not me

Glenn: Wait really

Silver: I mean technically I could get burned with wolfsbane but I couldn't be set on fire or anything

Glenn: Damn, wish that was the case for spellcasters

Silver: You are rather delicate

Glenn: Just like my flowers. Are you done now?

Silver: Is it Brind- e- l - ton or Brind -l - e - ton?

Glenn: We are not moving there are we

Silver: Don't know, haven't done the pros and cons list yet because someone keeps distracting me

Glenn: With my good looks

Silver: With your big mouth

Glenn: Hey! My big mouth happens to be of great use to you

Silver: Only when you've spent the day being a brat

Glenn: Well we need to be somewhere where we can adopt a kid

Silver: You say that as if I don't know

Glenn: Do you want a spellcaster or a werewolf

Silver: I don't know. I mean I do miss seeing the young wolves in the pack

Glenn: Do baby werewolves like chew on the furniture

Silver: What are you doing to my hair

Glenn: Nothing, just hold still. Going to answer my question?

Silver: Don't all kids destroy furniture in one way or another

Glenn: True but I mean there's accidentally starting fires then there's teeth marks

Silver: Baby spellcasters start fires?

Glenn: I mean when we're young we kind of have access to a bunch of powers we don't know how to use so stuff can happen that we don't know how to undo

Silver: Don't know how to undo? Such as?

Glenn: Well my trademark green hair? Not intentional

Silver: Bullshit, you're trying to mess with me

Glenn: Because I want your attention

Silver: But wouldn't my attention be so much better in a house of our own

Glenn: Fair. Okay hold still I'm going to get a picture

Silver sighed and tipped his head forward so the ball fell off and rolled away on the floor.

Glenn: Aww, you looked cute

Silver: Don't I always

Glenn: Nah. You're the hot rugged sexy one and I'm the squishy cute one. Well, squishy cute with abs

Previous ... Next

[tumblingxelian]

Tyrian Callows - The Master of Murder, Mayhem & Multitasking!

So, I recently saw a post discussing Tyrian Callows and I wanted to go into why I find him quite interesting despite his overall demeanor seeming to be that of a nihilistic serial killer.

Off the cuff, when I first saw Tyrian I hated him, "Oh good, another cackling serial killer, I hope e only exists to die & be replaced".

Then he ambushes RNJR & suddenly, oh suddenly I'm having fun!

Because he's not just cackling & killing, he's bombastic, spewing purple prose and strutting around like he's on a stage, then flinging himself through walls for dramatic poses. He waits after receiving major surprise attacks to reveal they didn't hurt him.

He is in essence, a theater kid who happens to also be a cultist and serial killer and I think that is incredibly entertaining if nothing else.

Beyond that I find his fawning behavior on Salem intriguing. Like, even beyond his failure, when Salem is growing in fury & others like Watts & Hazel know to get the fuck out. He starts irrationally offering her acts of service in a bid to make her happy before fleeing as well.

Like, whatever is going on there is interesting if nothing else, I think.

Then there's the fact he is far more insightful than characters like him are usually written as but, its not at the expense of is manic disposition as it often ends up being with say, Joker, bleh.

What I mean is, Tyrian is very good at analyzing people, what they want, what they feel, what will hurt them the most, what above all drives them & can articulate it very easily. Ala his confrontation with Mercury only knowing violence & being too afraid to leave it.

Yet at the same time when out under pressure by Clover, Qrow & Robyn he very quickly starts losing his cool, his mannerism and behaviors become more unhinged & wild, he is legitimately not all there. & it is isn't until he's had time to cool off in the airship that he's back on his game.

Finally there is his 'rivalry' qith Qrow.

To me the fun thing is that there is zero rivalry on Tyrian's end.

Qrow is just someone who he met in V4 and knew to be a capable fighter & important enemy agent. He was excited to fight & kill him & was briefly knocked off his game when disarming Qrow did nothing to slow him down.

Most Hunters based their fighting styles on their weapons so disarming them tends to be a winning move unless they are Hazel, Tyrian or Yang style combatants.

But he was back on his game in short order and still having a great time and even managed to essentially score the win... Right until Ruby dismembered him & he did not take it gracefully.

To say the least, Tyrian is definitely arrogant, I think that much is self evident.

It makes sense, it took a cooperative operation of Mitral Hunters & Atlesian Specialists to take him down. The Queen of Grimm came to collect him herself. His Semblance lets him take Aura out of a fight. & by all accounts he definitely seems to be among the most dangerous combatants on Remnant even without said Semblance.

So yeah, not surprised that he was both knocked off his game & angry about the injuries but after that he doesn't seem to dwell on them much the way Cinder spent several volumes seething over the damage Ruby did to her.

His little foreshadowing moment to Ruby before the election massacre & enjoying Qrow's suffering during Volume 7 very much seem like things he'd have done regardless cos he's just like that.

Tyrian will however exploit the idea of a rivalry to his advantage.

What I mean is, Qrow makes it clear when ambushing him with Clover & Robyn that he holds a grudge over their last fight. Tyrian doesn't utilize that in the three on one beatdown he gets, he's barely keeping his head above water most of that fight.

But once he is back in the game he's cheerfully egging on the break down in the Atlas and Mantle alliance. He's completely ignoring Qrow until the man jumps on him & even then doesn't offer him any unique attention.

Its only once he's established that things with Qrow and Clover have degraded as far as they have that he jumps in. He avoids starting off too violently to see how things go & is well pleased by Clover's dogged commitment to his orders.

Also likely dismissing Tyrian as just a violent lunatic.

It is then and only then that he leans on the idea that he actually wants a rematch with Qrow. But even then he still patiently waits for Qrow to float the idea first. He is playing into Qrow's grudge & Qrow's belief in a Shounen style rivalry & with it the belief that Tyrian will ignore Clover themoment he is not interrupting the fight and duke it out with Qrow.

But Tyrian only plays along with that and instead uses Clover's defeat to end his fucking life and frame Qrow for it.

He certainly has fun twisting the knife but again, this is stuff he does with everyone when he gets the chance. & it serves to make things more complex for Atlas and the now rebellious heroes than it would if Clover & Qrow had died together. Especially as enemy reinforcements are coming.

After this, again, neither Qrow or Ruby warrant a mention from him.

This is his job, they were parts of his assignments and Tyrian just happens to love what he's doing. Which humorously aligns very well with the life advice he gave Emerald and Mercury. Even if that was just because he thinks it'd be fun to be given the chance to kill them.

Anyway those are my takes on Tyrian Callows, evil as fuck, but smarter & more interesting than the usual portrayals of his archetype!

Thanks for reading!