#like i feel that is powerful enough in itself

[timeclonemike]

I have a theory about that, and like most things American, it involves a LOT of racism.

There's two sides to firearms ownership in the USA. The first part is purely physical, defined by the technical specifications of the weapon and the composition of the ammunition. At risk of drastically oversimplifying an entire field of technology, different guns are optimized for different combat and non-combat scenarios.

The other side is psychological / sociological. Socially, firearms have had a special place in American culture going back to before, technically speaking, there was a USA. During the back-and-forth between the colonies and Great Britain that eventually lead to the war between them, one of the escalating points of contention was an intent (and later attempts) by the British Army to seize and disarm the civilian population. At the time, a lot of people living outside of major population centers were shit-scared of the local folks that were here BEFORE all the Puritans showed up and fucked things up, either because they imagined they were under constant threat (because of racist ideas) or because they were ACTUALLY in an area of contention between the indigenous people and the various European colonial powers like England and France (because of racist actions caused by racist ideas). A lot of people in the colonies still remembered what happened in the French and Indian War. Having their muskets taken away under those circumstances was considered, not without reason, a death sentence, which in turn made the right to bear arms a rallying cry that a lot of the rebelling colonies ended up agreeing on.

This became a key point in American History - or rather, the Mythologized version of our history we are taught early on in grade school. The firearm is not simply a tool or a weapon, but an icon of power in and of itself. The term "gun fetishist" has been pejoratively used to describe firearms enthusiasts, and for some of them it is actually fairly accurate, because weapons are one of the key elements of America's "folk religion". It's a symbol of power and hope expressed in the language of violence and conflict.

And, at the risk of doing armchair psychology on a sizable cross-section of the American population, symbols of hope and comfort are most intently sought out by those who are frightened and traumatized. This is why so many people undergo religious conversions after a major life changing event; in American terms, buying a gun after getting robbed or assaulted is both literally and symbolically reclaiming lost agency. This, in turn, is why the nation with the loosest gun laws and the highest gun violence can't actually do anything with all those weapons, because for the vast majority of Americans they are basically security blankets. They're not bought, owned, and maintained with the intent to DO anything, they are there to make the owner feel better. (And the feeling of power and safety, by itself, can be enough to improve some people's quality of life without changing their actual circumstances, so there's slightly less pressure to actively make things better.)

This is also where the glorification of police and authority figures comes from, because the idea of being able to inflict violence on others with almost unlimited impunity (which is ALSO a house built on a Foundation of Racism) is a tremendously potent power fantasy. ESPECIALLY for those who have been traumatized by an experience of powerlessness. It takes a lot of time, energy, and patience to look at your own scars and vulnerabilities in order to deal with them in a healthy way; imagining yourself as the one who scars others is quick and easy and addictive.

[toaarcan]

I'm not wading into CR God Discourse this week, shit seems especially angry this time around and I've made my thoughts on that pretty clear already (no, the needle hasn't moved any). But man... I do not vibe with Predathos as an individual at all.

Like, the fights themselves were fantastic. Possessed Imogen was great, Imogen's escape leading to it turning into a more monstrous form was great, its evolution into an N64 "Head and Hands" monster for Phase 2 was great, and the fight in E120 was immaculate, I had so much fun watching it.

But man does Predathos itself, as an entity, disappoint.

Like, we have this eldritch monster from beyond all living memory, that's been imprisoned for thousands of years. It's been trying to find a way out ever since then. But all it does once it does get out is roar and attack things. Its characterisation can be summed up with "Hungy."

The campaign's earlier episodes present it as a terrible, horrifying thing, that the gods and primordials united to imprison. Its presence created the Ruidians, not by artifice but because being in its presence heavily mutated everything on the moon. They used to be regular Exandrian mortals and now they're not! And when Ludinus first made contact with it, it destroyed and permanently blighted an entire city. But apparently now it's no danger at all to anyone else. The Primordials were just doing the gods a favour by imprisoning it, I guess.

And the way it's been presented in these last two episodes is just inconsistent between story and gameplay. "It doesn't see mortals, it only sees the gods" but it has no issues having a full two-phase boss battle with a group of mortals, where it makes strategic and deliberate moves against them. "The Ruiner flees at the mere sight of it within Imogen, and the gods and all their celestial creations are helpless against it" but Braius can smite it and the Matron's boons can turn the tide and the Arch Heart's bottled Meteor Swarm is used to kill it.

Gameplay!Predathos can see mortals well enough to fight them, and has no trouble eating them. Lore!Predathos can't see them at all, and only wants to eat the gods. Gameplay!Predathos can be blasted with divine power and divine weapons and divine magic and it will be beaten. Lore!Predathos is totally immune to divine anything.

Predathos doesn't feel like a coherent character design for a game, it feels like a plot device designed to result in the exact end-stage scenario of E120. The gods can't fight it, so they and their followers have to do whatever BH says, because the alternative is them dying anyway. It has no desire to eat mortals so that there's no negative consequences to releasing it, just ignore Molaesmyr and how dramatically it's mutated the Ruidians (reshaping pre-existing life is only bad if the gods do it I guess). But none of this factors into the actual fight with it, where it has no problems seeing and eating mortals, and it can't no-sell divine power. And the fight was fun as hell, but Predathos' mechanics as an RPG Final Boss Monster do not reflect Predathos' in-lore role as the consequence-free invincible deicide machine.

[wendichester]

Can I request this because soft Dean falling for a stripper he met on the job at a strip club after there were haunts and killings there, would actually make so much sense and be so cute idc bc he knows he’s there to protect her if the dudes get handsy and loves to watch his girl dance like TELL ME IM WRONG

⋆.˚⋆₊ ⊹ strip,

summary. you're hypnotizing and dean can't get enough

pairing. dean winchester x stripper!reader

wordcount. 470

notes. i kinda feel like we'd seen a lot of dean incarnating his demon side and beating up the creeps in the parking lot 🤭

The music thumps against the walls of the dimly lit club, vibrating through the air like a heartbeat. Dean leans back in his chair at the edge of the stage, his beer in hand untouched, his eyes locked on you. The case here—a nasty haunting—was wrapped up hours ago. Salted, burned, done and dusted. But Dean stayed behind, lingering in a way he couldn’t quite justify to himself.

You had caught his eye the second he walked in. Not just because of your figure or the way you moved, but something else—something quieter. A spark of resilience, an undeniable confidence that wrapped itself around you like armor as you commanded the stage.

And now, he’s stuck.

You step into the spotlight, the sequins on your outfit catching and reflecting every beam of light. Dean swears you glow. The way you move is deliberate and hypnotic, equal parts grace and power. His breath hitches when your hips sway, when your hands trail along your thighs. It’s not just a performance; it’s art. It’s you.

His jaw tightens, his fingers drumming against the side of his beer bottle as he fights the urge to pull his gaze away—not because he’s embarrassed but because he feels too much. Admiration, desire, and something deeper he doesn’t want to name yet.

His stomach knots when a group of men at the next table whistles loudly, their voices loud and crude. Dean’s grip on the bottle tightens, his knuckles turning white. His jaw ticks as he watches you handle it like a pro, not even flinching, your smile sharp and unyielding.

But he knows better. He knows the weight you must carry, the strength it takes to face strangers night after night and still keep that fire burning.

When your eyes sweep over the room, they land on him. Just for a second. But it’s enough. Enough to make his heart stutter, to make him feel like you can see right through him. He tips his beer slightly in your direction, a small, almost shy salute, and is rewarded with the faintest curve of your lips.

The song shifts, slower, sultrier. Dean can’t take his eyes off you as you arch your back, your movements like liquid, like poetry. And all he can think is, God, she’s incredible.

He doesn’t care about the men ogling you or the judgment he knows some would cast your way. All he sees is you—strong, confident, magnetic. And as the lights dim and the song ends, a thought slips into his mind, unbidden but undeniable:

I’m screwed.

You step off the stage and disappear into the back, leaving Dean sitting there, his beer still untouched, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Because if this is what falling feels like, he’s not sure he ever wants to get back up.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl

[yourownutopia]

Ultraviolent Heart Part II

╰┈➤ A year has passed since you walked away from the hunter world, from him. The ache in your chest never left, but tonight, you let yourself surrender to it, if only for a moment. That’s when you feel it—a faint flicker of mana. Hope surges, fragile and desperate, at the thought that it could mean Jin Woo. But as you follow the spark, something goes horribly, irrevocably wrong.

Jin Woo x Isekai'd!Player2!Fem!Reader | Part II | Heartbreak | Angst | Jealousy | Crying | Violence | Blood

[Part I]

Crywolf - ultraviolent [she sang to me a language strange]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚--~

“What if I manage to kill you and your puppets as well?”

Jin-Woo’s voice was cold as ice, his eyes glowed, and his face was smeared with blood as he stared at the half-destroyed statue, which was looking back at him with a hint of panic.

The power emanating from the young Hunter made the room tremble. The room where everything had begun—the room he could now finally return to, only to discover that the creator of his powers was also the root of all evil.

The half-destroyed statue responded, its jaw already shattered, and deep gashes marked where Jin-Woo’s daggers had struck.

“I am the architect of this system. If you were to kill me—”

“—I’d become an E-rank again?” the black-haired Hunter finished the sentence, sweat glistening on his bloodstained forehead as a manic smile spread across his lips.

“I’ve already considered that possibility… but a system that exists won’t simply collapse if its creator vanishes, will it?” His grin widened, and the statue realized what that meant.

By the time its own system denied it access, its fate was sealed.

“I used to think I had no choice but to follow the system, that I’d become nothing more than an avatar, bend to its will” Jin-Woo whispered, tightening his grip on his blades. The glowing aura around him and the second heart he just got beating in his chest quickened his movements—each beat releasing more mana.

“I’ll just devour the entire system,” he declared, preparing to strike. But then the Architect said something that froze him mid-attack.

“̴H̵a̵v̷e̶ ̵y̴o̵u̴ ̷n̶e̷ver̷ wo̵n̴de̷r̴e̶d̶ ̶w̷h̶e̵re̴ ̷s̴he̷ d̷i̵s̶a̴p̷p̶e̵a̵r̵e̵d̵ ̵t̵o̷?̵”̴

The Voice began to tremble, static and flickering – like a broken TV.

The Shadow Monarch’s eyes remained unchanging, and he kept the statue in his sights. Was this a dirty trick? Was it trying to exploit his only weakness—you?

The Architect’s tone shifted as he noticed the young Hunter’s hesitation. He had struck a nerve. Not even a second heart could fill the gaping hole in his chest that you had left behind. But the thought of what the system might have done to you made uncontrollable rage boil within him.

He’s just playing with you, Jin-Woo. Don’t listen to him.

Your voice was loud and clear in his head—or at least the voice he still remembered.

Maybe he had a screw loose, or he was completely losing his mind, but after some time of your absence, your voice began appearing more and more clear in his mind. Especially in situations that were inherently dangerous, when adrenaline coursed through his veins. It wasn’t real – he knew that too well, but it was enough to give him strength.

Suddenly, it all made sense—the reason why he couldn’t find you anywhere, not even a single clue about your whereabouts, no matter how long and intensely he searched. Who could let you disappear, if not the System itself?

As he followed this train of thought, a massive knot formed in his stomach. The mere idea that he might have done something terrible to you—who knows what—was enough to drive him to the brink of madness.

His grip on the dagger tightened, the weapon creaking under the sheer force of its wielder. His entire body burned.

“What have you done?”

His voice trembled with fury—a rage that sent fear coursing through his shadows.

A rage with the potential to turn this dungeon—no, the entire city or even the world, to ashes.

And he likely would if it meant avenging you.

A deep laugh filled his ears as the battered statue laughed.

"That's the funniest part of all this, I didn't have to do anything", its voice was smug, less panicked. Now, he had enough time to do what should prevent his death.

What did he mean by that?

"You did this for me" the architect added. Jin Woo felt a sharp pang in his heart at the thought that he was responsible for what had happened to you. If only he had looked after you better…

"She left on her own."

The wounds inside him, which he had sporadically patched up, ripped open again at the thought.

He didn’t want to believe it—couldn’t believe it. Not coming from the mouth of this monster, yet his words ate their way into his mind.

His voice distorted, as though there was interference, but the grin on the stone shell didn’t fade—in fact, it grew wider.

The black-haired man didn’t want to listen any longer and prepared to attack, but a voice—your voice—stopped him. So clear and distinct, as if you were right beside him. And then he saw you out of the corner of his eye.

“Jin-Woo?” you asked softly, almost hesitantly. Your [E/C] eyes shone. This time – your Voice rang crystal clear in his ears, as if you were just beside him. It felt too real. His whole body reacted to your voice, a shiver ran down his spine.

His mistake: he turned his gaze away, just to finally see you again.

The world stood still for a second as he looked at you, his mouth opening to say something, anything—but by then, it was already too late.

The stone spear of the statue pierced his stomach, sending waves of pain through his entire body.

Blood gushed from his mouth, his eyes wide in shock. He had… fallen for it.

He saw his HP plummet drastically, his vision blurred, and his strength drained away.

Was this the end? Would he die here?

The sharp scream of his name that came out of Hae-In’s mouth, who stood with the other S-Rank hunters not far from the battle, didn’t reach him.

Everything around him grew dark, his eyes fluttered, and he shut out all the sounds surrounding him—only your image remained.

He was tired, so unbearably tired. He didn’t want to continue; it was all too much. And knowing he would never see you again shattered the last bit of resolve that had driven him forward.

What reason did he have to keep suffering? He might as well succumb to the darkness and finally let his soul rest. Stop fighting, at last.

This feeling… death reaching for him, pulling him to the other side.

Was the Double Dungeon truly to be his eternal resting place after all, despite escaping it the first time? How ironic.

“It’s okay” your voice gently reached his ears.

Could he finally be happy with you if he gave in?

He exhaled one last time and closed his eyes.

Peace, at last.

“You’ve fought enough; you can let go” you said softly, and he felt the warmth of your hands cupping his cheeks.

When he opened his eyes, the Double Dungeon was gone—everything around him was white, and he gazed into your beautiful [E/C] eyes, your face framed with a soft smile on your lips.

Was this an illusion? A figment of his imagination to ease his passing?

“You can let go, Jin-Woo” you said calmly, your lips mere inches from his.

But just before you could unite your lips with his, something dawned on him, something that reignited life in his limbs.

“N…” he began, but only a raspy sound escaped on his first attempt.

“Hmm?” you asked.

“Ne…ver…” Jin-Woo made a second attempt.

“Never” he finally croaked, and your eyes widened.

“[Y/N] would never say something like that”, he declared, his numb limbs moving again.

You had always cheered him on, stood by his side, and motivated him to keep going, even when he didn’t want to. You had taken his hand and encouraged him to surpass himself, to never give up.

“When you’re backed into a wall, tear the damn thing down”, you had told him after you’d both barely survived Cerberus, when the situation seemed hopeless—but you had pushed through and pulled him along.

The illusion began to crumble around him, and the soft smile of your mirage twisted into a knowing, satisfied grin. As if Death himself was satisfied with his own Defeat, almost proud of Jin Woo’s resistance.

Jin-Woo straightened up, his hands instinctively gripping the spear in his stomach. The light disappeared, along with your form, and his eyes snapped open. Life flooded his body, and the second heart in his chest pumped even more pulsating mana through his veins as he pulled out the Speer, blood dripping down to his feet.

The triumphant grin of the statue shifted to pure horror at the sight of him getting back in action, after it had already claimed its victory.

“You really don’t know her if you think she’d ever say something like that”, Jin-Woo said as he spat the blood from his mouth, the metallic taste still lingering on his tongue.

In a flash, he sprinted forward and cleaved the statue’s face, its terrified eyes staring at him. It was over.

“Apparently…” the statue began to speak, its voice growing quieter toward the end, but its horrified expression turned into one of satisfaction—a faint grin.

What now? Had he underestimated something?

No, Jin-Woo could feel the presence of the Architect fading—it was clear, its mana dwindling. And yet, the creature acted as though it had won.

“I’ll leave her a message from you,” were the monster’s final words, spoken with just enough strength for a wide grin, before its presence faded.

Jin-Woo’s eyes widened at the words. No—this couldn’t—.

He reached out. No way would he let this monster go wherever you were, no matter where that might be.

When his hand finally felt something warm, he gripped it as tightly as he could and felt his body being pulled along.

A blinding light forced him to shut his eyes, a wave of energy surging toward him so intensely that he could only grip tightly onto whatever threatened to slip from his grasp. Suddenly, the ground beneath him vanished, leaving him weightless in the embrace of a strange warmth.

The warmth seeped into his wounds, and the pain vanished instantly.

For the first time in months, the crushing weight on his chest lifted, and he could breathe freely. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt since your absence.

The warmth enveloped him, soothing his battered soul like a gentle, healing touch. For a fleeting moment, everything felt right. But then, just as quickly, the feeling disappeared. The light receded, the emptiness returned, and the electric hum of mana that usually coursed through his veins was gone.

His feet hit cold concrete, dizziness overtaking him as his back slammed against the ground. The impact forced the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping as he lay motionless. The screech of tires pierced the air, snapping his head upward—only to be blinded by a pair of glaring headlights.

Jin Woo flinched, squeezing his eyes shut as he instinctively raised a hand to shield himself. Confusion flooded his mind; the abrupt change of scenery and his sluggish reflexes left him utterly perplexed.

Moments later, the car door creaked open, and a voice rang out—both alarmed and irritated.

"You can’t just run out into the road like that, man! What’s wrong with you?!"

His head whipped toward the source of the voice as a figure stepped into view. Worry flickered in the stranger's lavender-colored eyes as he crouched down to examine Jin Woo, who looked thoroughly disoriented.

"Are you hurt?’’, the man asked, his initial anger giving way to concern, likely born of the shock.

For a moment, Jin Woo didn’t answer, his breathing uneven as he tried to process his surroundings, before Jin-Woo crouched back.

 But his movements were… slow. Far too slow. What was going on?

It felt as though he had no Mana left at all.

He immediately glanced down at his body, only to find the gaping wound in his stomach gone, along with the blood on his clothes—and even his shirt was no longer completely shredded.

It felt as though all the Mana in his body had vanished. An icy wave of panic clawed its way through him.

"Beru?!" Jin Woo called out; his voice edged with urgency. He expected a response, a reassuring presence—but there was nothing. Silence pressed in around him. He was truly alone.

Instead, the stranger in front of him gave him a puzzled look, clearly unsure who—or what—Jin Woo was calling for.

The man had striking lavender eyes and stark white hair, the contrast making his features all the more vivid. Jin Woo’s gaze lingered on him for a second too long before snapping away.

"I'm fine," Jin Woo replied curtly, though the sharp edge in his tone was undermined by his obvious disorientation.

The stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. And who could blame him? Jin Woo looked far from "fine," his body tense and his expression filled with panic.

"Are you sure?" the stranger pressed, leaning in slightly, his tone gentler now.

Jin Woo let out a defeated sigh. He couldn’t afford to waste time arguing, not when something was clearly wrong. He swallowed hard before asking, his voice quieter than before:

"Where are we?"

-‘๑’-

A Year

It had been a year.

Exactly one year since you had returned home and turned your back on the world of Hunters.

A year spent trying to move forward, even though your heart had shattered into a thousand pieces.

A year filled with bitter truths—because you no longer had a place to return to.

It became painfully clear that no one remembered you—not your parents, not your friends. As if you had never existed.

But that pain was nothing compared to the emptiness you felt when you realized your decision was final.

The moment your mind caught up with what you had done, you had screamed. You had cried out prayers to gods you didn’t believe in, slammed your fists against the ground in desperation, hoping your pleas would be heard—that the System would reappear.

But it had all been in vain.

By leaving his world, you had also left behind your abilities as a Hunter—or a Player.

All that remained were memories and the emptiness in your heart, proof that you had ever been part of that world—that his warmth, his fingers intertwined with yours, the joy in your heart when he laughed—it had all been real.

Eventually, after weeks of unbearable pain, you managed to pull yourself back together.

You pushed the dark thoughts aside and tried for a fresh start.

You got a job, found an affordable place to live, and finally felt like you had regained a sliver of control over your life. Things were getting better—just a little. But every now and then, the memories caught up with you. The questions crept in: How was he doing? Were he and Hae-In happy now, while you were still mourning someone who was never truly yours?

And today, on your "anniversary," the weight of those memories was especially crushing.

You flinched as something cold brushed against your cheek, snapping you back to reality.

The dull music that had filled your ears became sharp and clear again.

Your head jerked to the side, where a glass filled with dark brown liquid hovered inches from your face. Behind it was the concerned face of your best—and only—friend, as well as your roommate: Nika.

Her lavender-colored eyes studied you with a mixture of worry and exasperation.

“You’ve got that look again,” she said, her voice loud and direct as she slid onto the barstool next to you.

“What look?” you asked, taking the glass from her hand. The amber liquid inside swirled lazily as you turned it in your hand.

“The ‘I don’t belong here, someone save me’ look,” she replied with a faint smirk, taking a deep sip of her own drink.

“What are you thinking about this time?” she asked, setting her glass down on the counter with a dull thud.

You knew you couldn’t tell her the truth. She was aware of your heartbreak—though you had spared her the details—but she hated it when you wasted even a single thought on him.

After all, it was Nika who had painstakingly put you back together, who had offered you a place to stay after you confessed you’d been sleeping in a rundown motel.

You had been nothing more than coworkers, yet she had taken you in.

She had seen through your sadness, the pain you carried with you—the nightmares that haunted you, the lack of sleep, and how little you left the apartment. Eventually, she’d had enough and confronted you, practically dragging you out of the house.

At first, you resisted, but the sobering realization that you could now drink yourself into oblivion again since your hunters’ powers were gone, had quickly changed your mind. So much so that even Nika occasionally worried about your drinking habits.

Apparently, your “it’s nothing” had taken too long, because her piercing gaze told you she wasn’t buying it.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, letting out a heavy sigh—as though your pain were her own. You understood why. In moments like this, you felt so small again, like you’d made no progress, like the pain had never truly gone away and happiness was something you’d never feel again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s been a year now. The melancholy kind of sneaks up on you,” you admitted, offering her an apologetic smile.

“I get it—you loved him, yada yada. But life moves on. We’re young. We’re hot. He didn’t deserve you anyway. I mean, look at you.”

Her voice brimmed with confidence, the complete opposite of your own. She was strong, self-assured—a little reckless, sometimes abrasive, but her heart was always in the right place.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s time you finally realize what you’re worth. I mean, guys hit on you all the time. Grab one and have some fun. Or reject them—that’s fun too,” she said with a playful grin before downing the rest of her drink in one gulp.

Then she grabbed your hand.

“Come on, we’re going dancing,” she declared, pulling you off the stool.

“Wait,” you protested, but she shot you a knowing look.

Her grin widened as you downed your own drink in one go, relishing the burning sensation before letting her drag you to the dance floor.

Maybe she was right. At some point, you had to let go. Jin Woo was your past, a closed chapter in your story.

Maybe it was time to try something new.

-‘๑’-

You felt the cold wall against your back as two strong hands gently but firmly pushed you backward, and you instinctively wrapped your hands around his neck.

Perhaps you had followed Nika’s advice and gotten involved with something… or rather someone, whose hands were now sliding under your black dress, leaving a warm tingling on your skin. Whether it was the alcohol this time, or if you simply wanted to prove to yourself that you were finally over Jin-Woo – you had no idea. But his hands on your skin made you feel desired again, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Even if it was just a quick fling, right here in this moment, it felt good, even though the icy cold grazed your bare skin because you had left your jacket in the coat check.

His warm breath brushed against your neck, and you could clearly feel how your body wanted to give in.

At least, until the moment when his lips were only a few centimeters away from yours, and you wanted to close your eyes.You jolted upright as a familiar feeling coursed through your body, snapping your attention away. Your head whipped to the side, toward the source of the aura.

It couldn’t be—it was impossible.

And yet, you had felt it.

Mana. Nearby.

There was no mistaking it. That distinct surge of a mana stream—something you thought you’d never feel again.

That spark was enough to reignite something within you, something you had thought long dead.

Hope.

Hope that you might see him again. That you could apologize. Say all the things you’d never allowed yourself to say. Could it really be?

“Are you okay?”

The black-haired man in front of you had stopped immediately, concern in his striking green eyes.

You stared at him, unable to form a coherent thought as the sensation consumed you, blotting out everything else for a fleeting moment.

“I’m sorry, I…” you began, disentangling yourself from him, unable to meet his gaze.

You didn’t owe him anything—not really—but you wouldn’t have let this happen if you’d known it would end like this.

He was probably angry—disappointed at the very least. Bracing yourself for the worst, you were surprised when no harsh words came.

Instead, he simply nodded, understanding in his eyes, and stepped back, releasing you.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain,” he said gently, his green eyes following you as you began to turn away.

“Thank you,” you whispered before rushing off in the direction of the mana stream.

The sky above was clear, dotted with stars. It was late December, and the temperature had plummeted below freezing.

Your lungs burned, and the cold lashed at your exposed skin, but you didn’t slow down. You couldn’t risk losing this chance, couldn’t make the same mistake again.

Tears welled in your eyes as Jin-Woo’s face filled your mind—his warm smile, the one that had always sent butterflies through your stomach.

No. You wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

You rounded a corner into a dark alley and came to an abrupt halt, gasping for breath. Your exhalations formed small clouds in the freezing air as your heart pounded like a drum in your chest. Blood rushed through your veins as you scanned the shadows ahead.

You barely noticed the biting cold. Your eyes were locked on the figure hidden in the darkness.

For a moment, you bent over, bracing your hands on your thighs as you caught your breath.

-‘๑’-

“What do you mean, she’s gone?!”

The white-haired man’s voice rang out sharply over the car’s speakerphone, his focus fixed on the road ahead.

The voice on the other end was trembling, frantic.

“I—I don’t know. Oh god, it’s my fault. I told her she should—”

“Calm down. It’s not your fault,” Hide interrupted, his voice steady but his body tense. Jin-Woo, sitting in the passenger seat, could clearly see the strain in the way Hide gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening, his eyes darting nervously. Still, his voice remained calm—for his sister’s sake.

“Take a deep breath, Nika. I’m coming to pick you up, okay? We’ll find her. I promise,” Hide said reassuringly.

A small, muffled sound of agreement came from the other end of the line before the call ended. Hide exhaled heavily, running a hand over his forehead.

Jin-Woo had been staring out the window in silence, his thoughts a tangled mess, his gaze fixed on the blur of passing buildings.

He was still in Seoul, but something was wrong. He had no connection to his Shadows, no access to his abilities. The System had gone silent, leaving an ominous knot in his stomach. He felt weaker than he ever had before—even weaker than when he was an E-Rank.

Had he made a mistake?

The white-haired man—Hide—was the one who had almost run him over. Out of guilt, he had insisted on giving Jin-Woo a ride so he wouldn’t have to walk all the way home. But their route had taken an unexpected detour when Hide received the call.

“I need to make a quick stop. I hope that’s okay,” Hide said apologetically, glancing over at Jin-Woo.

“It’s fine,” Jin-Woo replied quietly, his eyes still fixed on the dark street ahead.

Hide wasn’t much of a talker, which Jin-Woo appreciated. But now, perhaps sensing the tension, maybe it was time to break the Silence.

“Mind if I ask what’s going on?” Jin-Woo asked, his gaze finally shifting to the driver.

Hide leaned back slightly in his seat, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. A half-hearted chuckle escaped his lips.

“My sister and her friend went out. Apparently, they got separated. Probably nothing serious,” he replied, stepping harder on the gas.

Jin-Woo nodded slightly. That sounded exhausting. Thank goodness Jinha wasn’t into partying—it would’ve been a headache he didn’t need.

By breaking several traffic laws, the white-haired man managed to get them to their destination quickly.

Hide slammed on the brakes and parked the car by the roadside when he spotted his sister.

She stood at the entrance of the club, neon signs casting colorful reflections on the ground. A cigarette dangled between her lips, and she held [Y/N]’s jacket in her arms—retrieved from the coat check.

Her eyes darted nervously, scanning her surroundings. The moment she saw her twin brother’s car, she ran toward it as Hide stepped out.

Jin-Woo watched the scene unfold through the side window, clearly hearing their exchange thanks to the slightly ajar driver’s door.

Hide placed his hands on his sister’s shoulders, speaking to her in a calm, soothing tone. The resemblance between the two was striking—save for their height and gender, they were unmistakably twins.

“Take it easy. Start by telling me what happened,” Hide said, his voice steady. His sister stumbled over her words as she tried to explain.

“She was so down again, so I told her to relax and have some fun. I should’ve kept a closer eye on her, but the guy seemed so nice…” she trailed off, the glowing cigarette in her hand entirely forgotten.

Jin-Woo, sitting silently in the car, wondered what kind of strange drama he’d stumbled into. His musings were interrupted when the white-haired girl suddenly bolted.

A young, black-haired man had just exited the club, and she charged toward him.

“You! Tell me where she is!” she demanded, her tone sharp as she nearly leaped at him. The startled man raised his hands defensively.

“Whoa, take it easy,” he said, taking a step back. Before she could get closer, Hide intervened, holding her back.

“Calm down, Nika,” he said, though she fought against his grip.

“That’s the guy! He went outside with [Y/N]!” she exclaimed.

Jin-Woo’s eyes widened at the sound of your name. A sharp, unbearable ache tore through his chest as vivid memories of you filled his mind. Your radiant [E/C] eyes, your angelic smile—the one he had loved so deeply.

Your voice echoed in his head, louder and more persistent the longer you were gone. How many times had he thrown himself into battles, eschewing his shadows, because your silhouette seemed to appear in his mind when adrenaline coursed through him? You had given him strength, even in your absence.

Regret burned through him—leaving you, failing to reach out, being so selfish.

No. It couldn’t be you. He convinced himself it was just someone with the same name.

But his fragile hope shattered when the black-haired man responded to a question Jin-Woo hadn’t caught:

“Oh… You mean the little one? [H/C] hair, [E/C] eyes?”

Without thinking, Jin-Woo’s hand shot to the door handle, and he stepped out.

Hide noticed Jin-Woo from the corner of his eye, his head slightly lowered. Despite his calm demeanor, his posture was tense.

“Where is she?” Jin-Woo’s voice cut through the air like icy arrows, forcing the dark-haired man to turn his attention away from the white-haired woman beside him. She, too, turned to look at Jin-Woo.

“Who are you?” The dark-haired man’s green eyes darted to Jin-Woo, who immediately grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward.

“Tell me where she is,” Jin-Woo demanded, his voice carrying the weight of his former power as the Shadow Monarch, as though he could crush the man in an instant.

“Hey—calm down,” Hide said, startled by the sudden shift in Jin-Woo’s demeanor. But Jin-Woo ignored him completely.

“Whoa, take it easy! I didn’t do anything to her,” the man stammered, raising his hands to show he had no intention of fighting.

“We just... messed around a little. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend,” he added, apologetically misreading the situation.

Jin-Woo’s eyes widened at his words. Pain pierced his chest at the mere thought of you having any sort of involvement with this man. Anger flared at the idea of him even touching you.

“Besides,” the man continued, “she blew me off before anything serious happened. She ran off like she’d been chased”

The dark-haired man was about Jin-Woo’s height and likely much stronger. A fight without Jin-Woo’s powers would not end in his favor. The only reason the situation hadn’t escalated was the stranger’s defensive stance.

For a brief moment, Jin-Woo’s grip on the man’s collar tightened, his gaze piercing. But the sincerity in the man’s voice was evident, so Jin-Woo reluctantly let go.

“Who the hell even ARE you?!” the white-haired woman snapped, her lavender eyes burning with intensity. She had just been released by her brother and now glared at Jin-Woo.

When Jin-Woo looked at her, realization struck within her. His Appearance fitted the one [Y/N] gave her.

“YOU!” she spat, pointing an accusatory finger mere inches from his face.

“Do you even know how much you hurt her? How much she suffered because of you?!” Her voice trembled with fury as she threw the rhetorical question at him. She wasn’t waiting for an answer; her anger didn’t need one.

“How dare you show up here after a whole year?!”

Jin-Woo held her gaze, unflinching, but for the first time in a long while, he felt powerless. It wasn’t just his lack of strength – no, her rage overwhelmed him, her emotions exposing just how much you meant to her.

He stared at her coolly, but her words cut through him like a thousand tiny knives. What had he done? What on earth had happened?

The thought of how you must have felt had already cost him countless sleepless nights. But now, faced with the real consequences of his neglect and selfishness, it hit him harder than ever before.

Suddenly, the Architect’s words made sense – how he had said you’d left willingly.

Jin-Woo froze. His stomach churned, a dreadful feeling settling deep within him.

He had followed the Architect’s trail to stop him, but by the time he arrived, the Architect was gone – and now, so were you. It couldn’t be a coincidence. He had to find you before he did.

The guilt and regret eating away at him wouldn’t ease as long as he knew you were safe. But the guilt he’d feel if something happened to you? That would destroy him.

He took a sharp breath, shoving aside the rising panic that crept into his entirely human body.

“Stay out of this. I’ll find her,” he said, turning to leave. But a rough grip stopped him mid-step.

“Wait!” the white-haired woman barked. Her voice was firm, but she let go of his coat as soon as he turned toward the direction the dark-haired man had pointed out.

Jin-Woo tuned out her loud protests, vanishing into the streets. His steps quickened.

At least his physical conditioning hadn’t failed him. Mana or not, his rigorous training paid off.

He sprinted through the dark streets, his breath forming clouds in the icy air as his sharp eyes scanned his surroundings. It was 2 a.m., and the streets were deserted. The dark night sky stretched endlessly above the city, stars visible despite the light pollution. But Jin-Woo didn’t notice.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest, his palms sweaty. With every passing minute, the panic threatening to overwhelm him transformed into fear, clouding his rational thoughts. He couldn’t think straight at the idea of something happening to you

You were strong – he knew that. He’d fought beside you. But in this world, where neither of you seemed to have powers, and with no knowledge of your current condition, anything could happen.

And it would all be his fault. He could live with he blame that he left you – that he hurted your feelings. But he would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to you.

He froze when he heard a muffled scream and felt a brief flicker of mana. His head snapped toward the source, and he pivoted on his heel, his body instinctively going on high alert.

“Please, just hold on a little longer, [Y/N],” he muttered, his feet carrying him in the direction of the mana surge.

-‘๑’-

Breathless, you stared at the shadowy figure stepping out of the darkness.

Could it really be him?

“Jin-Woo?” you whispered, your hoarse voice barely audible.

But your hopes shattered when a tall figure stepped into the dim streetlight.

It was a man, perhaps in his early to mid-thirties. His hair gleamed a fiery orange, and his dark red eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

Your hand instinctively clutched your aching chest, the old wounds flaring at the realization that it wasn’t Jin-Woo.

How foolish you felt – incredibly foolish. You’d run here as fast as you could, all because of a feeling. A naive hope.

A hope that the unrealistic scenario you’d played out in your head thousands of times might actually come true.

That you’d get your happy ending – or at least the chance to explain yourself, to cast off the burden of guilt and regret weighing on your shoulders.

Why had you been so unbelievably stupid? Hadn’t you learned anything? Who else but you would be foolish enough to run through the streets in the middle of the night, dressed lightly, with no phone – all because of a feeling?

Your body trembled, the cold raising goosebumps on your skin. You swallowed back your tears, lowering your head.

It suddenly felt like every ounce of strength had drained from your body.

,,Disappointed?’’, the voice rang into your ear.

"Uh... uhm, sorry. I was expecting someone else," you said, feeling a little embarrassed as the stranger approached you with slow, deliberate steps. But...

You looked at him, and the smile on his lips sent a shiver down your spine. Who was he?

Something about his presence felt familiar, yet you couldn't sense any Mana from him. Still, you were certain he had been the source, he seemed... out of place, almost inhuman.

"Oh, don’t tell me you don’t recognize me?" he asked with feigned surprise, glancing down at himself as though he were just now noticing his appearance. His hands reached for a strand of his orange hair, which he stroked thoughtfully with his thumb.

"Fascinating. I didn’t expect to get such a realistic body," he said, his red eyes locking onto yours again.

Your confusion seemed to amuse him. What was he talking about?

"Come on, [Y/N], use that little brain of yours," he laughed, his steps slow and deliberate as his red eyes gleamed at you challenging.

No matter how hard you thought, you couldn’t make any connection. He knew your Name…

He was now standing in front of you, looking down with that same unsettling smile.

Clearly, he had grown tired of waiting. His red eyes sparkled, and his voice distorted as he spoke:

"Do you really want to leave the game? Yes or no?" he asked playfully.

Your eyes widened in pure shock at his words, at the distortion in his voice—it sounded exactly like...

"The Architect?"

Your voice trembled as you voiced the thought aloud. That couldn’t be.

The sheer shock on your face seemed to excite him. He relished every ounce of your fear and disbelief.

"Bingo!!! But you can call me by my real name. I think it’s only fair, given your naive foolishness saved my life. Thanks for that, by the way," he said casually, his voice dripping with mockery as you stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to process his words.

This couldn’t—mustn’t—be true. Kandiaru, the Architect of the System—the one Jin-Woo had eliminated after Ashborn denied him access to the System. How in the world had he ended up in your world? Did this mean Jin-Woo had lost? How had the timeline gone so awry when you’d gone to such lengths to prevent exactly that? You didn’t even want to imagine what this meant for Jin-Woo.

"How—" you began, but he cut you off immediately.

"Oh, do you think it was just a coincidence that you ended up in our world?" he asked with a smirk, disdain evident in his voice.

"I needed someone knowledgeable—but not too knowledgeable. And your disgustingly kind heart? That was just the icing on the cake," he said, his fingers gripping your chin and tilting your head up, forcing you to look at him.

"Through your world, I saw my future and devised a Plan B to ensure I’d survive."

Slowly but surely, his facade of calm began to crack. His piercing gaze and the unhinged grin spreading across his face triggered every instinct in you to flee.

The alcohol clouded your thoughts, but even in this state, you felt a shiver run down your spine—a strong sense of danger.

You needed to run. Now. But your body wouldn’t move.

"It was only a matter of time before your love for him forced you to make a choice. After all, there’s no future for you and him," he continued as you stood there, helpless to do anything but listen.

"And with that, you weakened him—severely. Longing is such an ugly emotion, isn’t it?" he whispered, pulling your face closer to his. His grip was unyielding, and any resistance you managed was useless.

The gears in your head began to turn. He had... used you from the very beginning? Known all along that you’d return with a broken heart, leaving Jin-Woo vulnerable?

No, he hadn’t just known—he’d banked on it. He had meticulously planned everything, using you as a pawn for his own survival.

"If it were up to me, I’d have handled things differently, but it was hard enough keeping my intentions hidden from Ashborn. Truly tedious," he muttered, clearly irritated at the thought of the Shadow Monarch, who had tasked him with finding a suitable human.

"But no matter. I can just as easily plunge your world into chaos," he laughed, gazing up at the dark night sky—until your hand gripped his wrist, pulling at his sleeve.

His laughter stopped abruptly as his eyes darted down to you, his head tilting to the side.

"Hmm?" he asked, amused by your defiance.

Your actions were no longer rational, driven instead by a simmering rage. Deep within, it boiled and churned. All the pain and effort... for nothing?

"Oh no, did I make you angry?" he taunted, mockery lacing his words.

"You’re a filthy bastard," you spat, your [E/C] eyes glaring fiercely at him. You couldn’t hold back anymore.

For a brief moment, Kandiaru looked surprised before bursting into laughter.

"Oh, oh, such harsh words from such a pretty mouth."

He leaned down, his hot breath brushing against your face as his fingers dug painfully into your chin. His eyes roamed over your form, taking in your exposed skin and the black dress that hugged your curves.

"I can see what he sees in you," he said with a wicked grin.

That was the last straw. Without thinking, you swung at him. Your fist collided with his open palm as he released your chin to block your weak punch.

He gripped your hand tightly, the pressure forcing your fingers to ache as you let out a pained gasp and dropped to your knees.

"Know your place, human. The only reason you were ever strong was because of my power—but here, you’re nothing. Just another insignificant human among many."

The playful tone in his voice vanished as if a switch had been flipped. His gaze turned icy, his voice cold as he looked down at you.

Your bare knees scraped against the rough asphalt. He eased the pressure slightly—enough to avoid breaking your fingers—but his words burned themselves into your mind.

He was right. You had no real power, no special abilities. You were just a human. A powerless, ordinary human.

He let go of you, obviously not wanting to deal with you any longer. As he turned his back to you, every fiber of your being screamed at you to stop him—no matter how.

“Wait,” your voice trembled slightly as you got back on your feet, the cool night wind brushing against your bare legs.

He sighed, clearly annoyed by your persistence, but turned his head slightly in your direction. “What now?” he asked gruffly, throwing you a sidelong glance.

“What… happened to Jin Woo?” you asked then. You had to know—had to know if he was okay. He couldn’t have lost to him. That just couldn’t be true.

The Architect paused for a moment, as if thinking. Then, a smile returned to his lips. He could tell you anything, and you would believe him.

“Oh, right. I should pass on his last words,” he said, his voice growing quieter.

“Although… he never got the chance to say them.”

Click.

His words flipped a switch in you. Overwhelmed with anger, you charged at him. Every part of your body wanted to tear him apart, even though you knew you didn’t stand a chance.

With a loud scream, you stormed toward him, your hands clenched into fists—your body tense.

“Oh, man,” Kandiaru muttered, rolling his eyes as he lazily prepared to block your feeble attack. But to both his and your surprise, your punch carried far more weight than the last one.

So much so that he stumbled back a step, staring at you in confusion.

It was nothing compared to your former strength, but the fury and adrenaline gave you power. And apparently, his body wasn’t as strong as the one he had in his own world.

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves,” the Architect growled, his expression darkening with irritation. He was slowly but surely losing his composure.

“I really hoped I wouldn’t have to kill you,” he sighed, reaching behind him.

A shimmering dagger appeared, its blade catching the light of the streetlamp as he moved.

Your eyes widened at the sight—it bore a resemblance to Baruka’s dagger, but this one was deep red.

“That’s enough,” he said, and in an instant, the weapon in his hand began to pulsate. The mana flowing from it was the same as the one that had drawn you here in the first place—but now, it was far stronger.

He didn’t give you time to think. He lunged at you.

Unlike his strength, his speed wasn’t inhuman, which allowed you to dodge his strike.

The blade grazed your cheek, and your back hit a wall painfully as you tried to evade.

His crimson eyes locked onto you, the grin returning to his face as he saw the fear in your eyes.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, terror flooding your body as you stumbled to the side. The dagger embedded itself into the wall where your head had just been.

He really intended to kill you—out here, in the open!

Blood trickled down your cheek as you broke into a sprint, his footsteps echoing right behind you.

“Come on, [Y/N], don’t make this harder than it has to be,” his manic voice called out from behind, steadily catching up.

Your legs grew heavy as you ran through the alleys, panic gripping your throat. Was there really no one around? No one to help?

The fear was suffocating. The walls to your left and right hemmed you in—you had no choice but to keep running straight.

But his steps drew closer, and when he caught up to you, you saw the dagger flash toward you from the corner of your eye.

Your life flashed before your eyes—the last image in your mind was that of the black-haired Hunter.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered faintly as your foot twisted, causing you to lose balance.

Resigned to your fate, you were weightless for a brief moment—only a fraction of a second. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the pain.

But the pain never came.

Instead, your body collided with something hard and warm.

An arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you tightly against the warm figure in front of you.

Your cheek rested against soft fabric, beneath which a warm body rose and fell with irregular breaths.

“Get your hands off her.”

Your entire body reacted to the voice. The chest you were pressed against vibrated as he spoke, and your eyes flew open.

Tears welled up in your eyes, darting upward.

The familiar scent filled your nose, the warmth spreading through your chilled body instantly.

It was him.

You wanted to look at him, to confirm that he wasn’t an illusion—but he held you firmly in place.

Warm blood ran down his arm, dripping onto the ground beneath him. The sharp pain coursed through his entire arm, but it was nothing compared to the relief he felt as he held your body against his. The warmth that flooded him as he inhaled your scent. His body had longed for this for so long. The deep hole in his chest stopped aching.

Kandiaru didn’t hesitate for a second. He pulled the dagger free and jumped back several steps,

“How did you—?” Kandiaru began, disbelief laced in his voice.

Jin Woo, however, simply glared at him darkly, his eyes narrowed to slits and his arms protectively wrapped around you. Not for a second did he let any weakness show, despite his lack of abilities.

Only when the orange-haired man retreated slightly did Jin Woo turn his half-focused attention to you.

“Are you alright?”

The tone of his voice, directed at you, was gentle and warm. You had almost forgotten how it felt when he spoke to you like that.

You pulled away slightly to look at him, your [E/C] eyes brimming with tears.

He hadn’t changed a bit—only his eyes hinted at the deep sorrow and suffering your disappearance had caused.

In contrast, you had changed a lot. You had lost weight, your cheekbones were more pronounced, and the dark circles under your eyes spoke volumes Jin Woo didn’t need to read to see that you hadn’t fared any better than he had.

So many sleepless nights, so much unnecessary pain, so much longing and desire that had haunted you both equally.

His hands now rested on your shoulders, and you noticed the blood on his arm. Worry surged through you, but the gentle pressure he applied—wordlessly telling you it was okay—brought your attention back to his face.

All at once, everything came rushing back—all the words you had never been able to say.

“Jin Woo, I—”

You wanted to beg for his forgiveness, to tell him how terribly you had behaved and how foolish you had been.

The black-haired man interrupted you with his index finger pressed gently to your lips, silencing you softly. His lips curved into a faint smile.

His eyes told you everything you needed to know in that moment. Even after all this time, you still understood him without words.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek, dampening it before dripping off your chin. You nodded in understanding.

It could wait. For now, the most important thing was getting both of you out of here in one piece.

The Architect, meanwhile, had quickly recovered after realizing that Jin Woo no longer radiated any mana. In this world, he was weaker than even an E-Rank.

“Jin-Woo Sung,” Kandiaru called, his eyes flickering with pure murderous intent as he lunged forward, dagger in hand, its blade pulsating.

“It’s my pleasure to cut you to pieces,” he laughed as he charged at you both.

Jin Woo tensed and pushed you behind him, ready to somehow fend off the attack. His reflexes might no longer be those of an S-Rank Hunter, but he still had close combat experience and enough muscle strength.

The energy radiating from the blade was palpable in the air—electrifying and oppressive.

Everything happened so fast, you had no time to react. The black-haired man shoved you aside with gentle force, pushing you out of the line of fire.

You stumbled but managed to catch yourself in time to avoid falling.

Wide-eyed with fear, you spun around.

Jin Woo had deflected the attack with a skillful move, pushing the orange-haired man’s hand upward at the right moment.

Tension gripped your body, and you sucked in a sharp breath.

Your head darted around, searching for ANYTHING that could help you.

Jin Woo could do nothing but block the Architect’s relentless attacks. Kandiaru struck with brutal force, slashing with the dagger in his other hand.

More cuts appeared on the Hunter’s skin as he was forced back. Kandiaru gave him no reprieve, and you could see sweat gleaming on Jin Woo’s forehead. His movements slowed as the fight dragged on. He couldn’t hold out much longer.

Jin Woo slammed into one of the parked cars as the Architect grabbed him by the throat and threw him. Jin Woo was hopelessly outmatched.

Blood clung to his forehead as Jin Woo’s eyes briefly flicked toward you before focusing again on the orange-haired man, whose wild grin remained as his red eyes sparkled with malice.

He struggled against the grip on his neck, which tightened, choking the air out of him as Kandiaru pressed him harder against the vehicle.

A sharp pain shot through the back of his head, and a choking sound escaped his throat as the lack of oxygen began to affect his brain. His vision blurred, and he felt the burning in his lungs.

This was it. For the third time, he was losing to this monster, but this time, it would be the last.

Kandiaru raised his weapon, holding Jin Woo firmly in place.

“It’s been a pleasure,” he laughed, ready to strike, when suddenly his grip loosened, and he was shoved to the side.

You had thrown yourself against him with all your might, sending him staggering.

Your body hit the cold asphalt hard, scraping your hands and knees as a searing pain shot through your arm. Kandiaru also met the ground—the force of your impact had hit him with full strength.

Jin Woo’s lungs filled with air again, adrenaline pumping blood through his body. Suddenly, he could see again, gasping for breath.

The dark red dagger clattered across the cold ground, sliding several meters away, but the Architect quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed his weapon.

“You damn whore,” he growled, his psychotic grin replaced by pure rage, his focus now on you.

Jin Woo had also gotten back to his feet, his entire body aching with pain. He took a brief moment to overcome the stabbing headache.

This human body severely limited him, but his will to protect you drove him forward.

You were a good distance away from him, and with his battered body, every step felt like twenty.

You gasped in pain, your knees burning like fire and refusing to cooperate as Kandiaru set his sights on you.

Fear flooded your senses, robbing you of reason and freezing you in place as the Architect charged at you, dagger in hand, its tip glowing brightly with small bolts of lightning sparking from it.

“[Y/N]!” Jin Woo’s sharp cry reached your ears as he realized he wouldn’t make it in time to save you. His voice trembled as he stretched out his hand toward you—but it was in vain.

You didn’t even have time to scream. All you could do was reflexively close your eyes.

The faint hum of an engine barely reached your ears.

An ear-piercing screech enveloped your body, bracing itself for incoming pain—but none came.

Jin Woo stood frozen, his wide eyes trembling as his hand quivered at what had just unfolded before him.

For the moment, nothing else mattered to him except you. You were still sitting motionless on the ground.

‘’[Y/N!]’’, you didn’t react.

Without hesitation, he hobbled toward you, dropping to his knees and placing his hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently.

“[Y/N]!”

No response.

“Can you hear me?!” Jin Woo’s usually calm voice trembled with fear. Unknowingly, he held his breath.

Finally, your eyes fluttered open, and your [E/C] irises met his stormy gray ones. The tension visibly melted from his face as he let out a shaky breath. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave, but you still said nothing.

You blinked a few times, dazed and confused.

“What?” you whispered faintly, your mind struggling to process what had happened.

Jin Woo’s worried expression softened further, and without warning, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest.

“I… I thought…” His voice cracked, and whatever words he meant to say dissolved into silence. The walls he had painstakingly built around his heart during your absence crumbled entirely. His body trembled, and his embrace tightened.

Never in all the time you had known Jin Woo had you seen him so consumed by fear.

As the shock in your own body subsided, you, too, began to sob uncontrollably. Your hands clung to the fabric of his black shirt as you returned his embrace.

The two of you clung to each other like drowning souls, finding solace only in each other.

Abruptly, Jin Woo pulled back. Your tear-filled eyes questioned the sudden separation until he cupped your face with his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

Finally.

He had waited too long for this moment, envisioned countless scenarios where it might happen, and convinced himself repeatedly that it had to be perfect. But now he understood—it didn’t need to be perfect.

The moment was messy, far from ideal. You were both battered and bruised, covered in blood and sweat, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

And yet, that kiss was the most beautiful thing Jin Woo had ever experienced.

All the longing, the yearning, and the love he had carried for you poured into that single, imperfect kiss.

Tears streamed down your face once more, but this time they were tears of joy.

It felt as though his love seeped into the cracks of your heart, slowly but surely filling every void and healing every wound.

You only broke apart when a voice disrupted the moment.

A quick exchange of glances was all you managed before both your heads turned toward the source of the sound.

“HOLY SHIT, NIKA! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!” a male voice yelled as a car door swung open.

Only now did you notice the lifeless body lying on the ground, orange hair splayed in all directions.

Hide tugged at his hair, staring in wide-eyed disbelief at the unmoving figure in front of his car, then at his sister climbing out of the driver’s seat.

“Dear brother,” Nika began in a calm, angelic tone, inhaling deeply.

“DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE HE WAS THREATENING [Y/N] WITH A FREAKING GLOWING KNIFE?!” she screamed, her tone switching to pure outrage as she glared at her brother.

“YOU CAN’T JUST MOW HIM DOWN!” Hide yelled back, utterly floored by her reckless driving and lack of judgment.

,,OF COURSE I CAN, DIDN'T YOU SEE??!'', she yelled back.

“WE’RE BOTH GOING TO JAIL! How the hell do you plan to explain this to the cops?!” he paced frantically, running his hands through his hair.

But Nika ignored his panicked questions entirely, her focus shifting as she spotted you and Jin Woo. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward you.

“[Y/N]!!!” she cried, her voice thick with emotion, throwing herself to the ground beside you and wrapping her arms tightly around your neck. Jin Woo had to shuffle aside to avoid the collision.

She clung to you desperately, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry,” she wept, pulling you even closer.

Your tear-filled eyes drifted to Jin Woo, who gave you a soft, knowing smile.

You felt nothing but overwhelming gratitude that everyone was safe.

-‘๑’-

“Take good care of her,” Nika said firmly, releasing you from her embrace and shooting Jin Woo a stern look.

He paused briefly, his gray eyes locking onto yours before he gave a gentle nod.

“With my life.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips as a blush crept onto your cheeks. Jin Woo’s sweetness still left you in awe, and it was hard to grasp that all this love was directed at you.

It had been a week since Jin Woo had entered your world, and now it was time to return home.

The Architect’s body had not been human; it dissolved into mana before merging with his dagger upon his death. That blade turned out to be the System, manifest in an object, and it allowed Jin Woo to create a Gate back to the Hunter world.

Explaining this to Nika and Hide had been…challenging. Even after witnessing it themselves, disbelief lingered in their expressions. Without the firsthand evidence, they might have deemed you insane.

As for destiny? The events that unfolded proved that the System’s claim of inevitability wasn’t absolute. Its deletion was imminent, and you now believed you could shape your own story.

Jin Woo, however, wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

He refused to let you out of his sight, constantly staying close and cherishing every moment together. “For all the lost time,” he would say.

Now, you both stood before the Gate Jin Woo had conjured, your fingers interlocked.

“Go on, before I start bawling,” Nika said, wiping at her teary eyes. Leaving her behind hurt, but you had to return. There was still so much left to do, so many monsters to fight.

What mattered most, however, was that you were together again.

You nodded, biting your lip to hold back tears.

“Shall we?” Jin Woo extended his hand.

Without hesitation, you intertwined your fingers with his, meeting his eyes. His reassuring squeeze grounded you.

Together, you stepped through the Gate, returning to the Hunter world.

[Welcome back, Players.]

ღ ◌ ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ღ

Holy shit i finally did it. It took so much thinking and rewriting because i wasn't happy - there were so many thinges that changed during the writing process. I am not fully satisfied, but i hope you like the second part as well! :)

As i already mentioned in my last Post - there will be a few side Stories, adapting this Two Shot~

Thanks for all reblogs, likes & comments.'*•.¸♡ I really appreciate it <3 ♡¸.•*'

~Utopia ༊*·˚

I hope i didn't forget anyone!! :)

@phisen @bunniotomia @mysterylilycheeta @uchihaclan27

[victusinveritas]

"The coming days will be ugly. Yet I feel it’s my job to remind you that, bad as this is, we are not Weimar Germany, and this is not 1933. Trump and his lieutenants aren’t battle-hardened trench fighters, they’re Elon Musk and a coterie of half-enthusiastic half-frightened billionaires who got rich gambling on apps to let you rate your classmate’s tits. Their foot soldiers are used car salesmen from Encino, not Freikorps. The United States is not starving to death and crippled by war, it’s irritated and anxious because its working people have been robbed blind by those same billionaires.

The one thing we do have in common with Weimar is that our fascists now find themselves at the head of a state that capitulated to them not out of enthusiastic consent but exhaustion, cowardice and above all a feeling that it didn’t really matter.

That last one, the feeling that nothing matters, the system is fucked, there’s no point in engaging or organizing- that is the most powerful weapon they have right now. Because that feeling stops you and everyone else from opposing them. From interrupting as they reach out, yet again, to take something you love or need.

But there’s a danger here too. In moments of stress and anger the desire to DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING can be intense. And when we’re swept up in that mood the natural tendency is defaulting to the things we know best. The things we’ve done before. The marches and chants and poster-boards we’ve been walking and shouting and carrying all century long. Going back to those old tactics without iteration or acknowledgement of their limitations is a road to failure.

I’ve been to a lot of protests, starting at Zuccotti Park in 2011 and ending last year in Chicago, at the DNC. One of the most dispiriting moments of my life was listening to young anti-genocide activists vow to shut down the DNC, to “make it great like ‘68”. This was a reference to the 1968 DNC. Mass protests were ignited when the preferred anti-war candidate, Eugene McCarthy, was rat-fucked by Democratic party insiders in favor of Vice-President Hubert Humphrey. The protests were quashed violently with tear gas and truncheons. Protesters chanted, “The whole world is watching.”

It may have been then. But the war went on. Nixon won election, then re-election, and then finally pulled U.S. troops out of Vietnam after dropping enough bombs on South-East Asia to have ended several Third Reichs.

During one particularly bad night at the 2024 DNC, miles away from the event itself, a march of self-described “radical protesters” confronted the police while chanting “the whole world is watching” and I can say, unequivocally, it was not. The only people watching were me, several other journalists, and a handful of folks on Twitter. The police, as they kettled, maced and arrested members of the crowd, barely seemed to care. The DNC didn’t shut down. Kamala Harris was made the nominee. There wasn’t even a real anti-war candidate for party insiders to rat-fuck in her favor.

Garrison Davis, my colleague and friend, remarked to me afterwards that the DNC had been somehow much more depressing than its Republican counterpart a month earlier. He was right.

On the stage floor all the Democrats had to present were aging celebrities and Bill goddamn Clinton, drooling out the same platitudes that led us to the Trump era in the first place and doing their best to ignore delegates who walked out and slept in front of the convention center to protest the genocide in Gaza.

Meanwhile in the streets a lot of very nice, earnest people (alongside a handful of grifters) did the only thing they could think of doing after months of imbibing footage of war crimes. They walked around and shouted. The police and city largely let them, because they knew none of it was going to change a damn thing.

I’d felt tremendous optimism right after Joe Biden resigned, not because I loved Kamala but because it was something shocking, an upset, an experiment. Or at least it seemed that way at first. The DNC made it clear that Biden’s advisors and consiglieres, the powers behind the throne, still ran the show, and would not allow any real change. The rot had spread too far, spoiling the meat, spoiling everything.

It was my accurate belief in 2020 that the Democratic Party, broken as it was, had the numbers and organizational capacity to slow the spread of fascism for a short time. It was my inaccurate belief in 2024 that this might still be the case. I had hope because I’d lost any sense of actual productive optimism. We lean on hope when we have no ideas to brace ourselves against.

Hope, as George Miller reminded us, is a mistake. If you don’t fix what’s broken, you’ll go crazy. That’s where we are now, going crazy. Committed Democrats, the decent regular people who fill the party not the soulless shoggoths of capital who run things, are going crazy because they got what they thought they wanted for four years. We returned a “decent” normal politician to office, he kept the economy humming along, got us out of Afghanistan…and everyone still hated him.

Leftists are going crazy for different reasons. In 2020 this country saw the largest sustained uprising of its modern history and nothing, fundamentally, changed. In its aftermath, the oligarchs who control social media set to tweaking, buying or outright inverting their algorithms to ensure no similar movement would ever gain that kind of steam again. Their efforts have been largely successful.

And yet many organizers, be they progressive social democrats, communists, anarchists, whatever, are still stuck in the same loops. Behind each march to nowhere and tired chant is an equally tired hope. The social democrats dream of a giant, continent-sized Denmark, with cyclists replacing Ford Trucks, universal healthcare, good schools and a bevy of other lovely things both political parties will fight tooth and nail to prevent. The authoritarian Communists dream of a new October Revolution, but this one will work rather than just creating a new dictatorship that ages and dies within the space of a single human lifetime.

Anarchists tend to be very good at seeing the flaws in the logic and futility of the hopes of the previous two groups, but they are just as bereft of ideas for how to stop what’s coming. Some tendencies dream of collapse, of an end to industrial society and either living in the woods eating berries or some sort of solarpunk daydream, wildflowers sprouting from rubble. The latter is a nice dream but try offering either future to a single mom who can’t afford her 5-year-old’s insulin and see how she reacts.

Most of the anarchists I know define themselves as “helpers” before anything else. They’ll cheerfully admit they don’t know how to solve the big problem but they do know how to provide free eye exams to homeless people once a month, or do water drops down at the border so migrants don’t die of dehydration, or crowdsource insulin from their friends to help that single mom through a bad week or two.

If you are where we all are right now, bereft of ideas, staring down the barrel of a nightmare, those are good folks to know. Like everyone else, they’re defaulting to what they’ve been doing, but at least what they’ve been doing helps people.

The larger solutions to our common woes, if they ever arrive, will be something new. Something we haven’t tried yet. I feel very confident they won’t take the form of another march or involve everyone finally agreeing to be the same kind of communist/anarchist/whatever. Shawn Fain, chief of the United Auto Workers Union, has called for a General Strike in 2028, and that so far is the only clear plan I’ve heard anyone make that feels like it has a ghost of a chance.

It’s an audacious plan, and I recommend reading what Shawn’s laid out about it. But half of why I support the idea is because it IS audacious. The religious right got to where they are right now in this country by being bold. As I laid out earlier, fascists win because they always try, and this is something we need to copy.

Shit can be different, but not unless we’re willing to try different shit.

Many pundits and columnists were shocked and horrified by the massive and instant support for Luigi Mangione when he assassinated the CEO of United Healthcare. Both the tutting gatekeepers of traditional media and the actually-sweating oligarchs characterized this as evidence of bloodthirstiness. Some leftists did the same and interpreted support for Mangione as proof that the body politic did, indeed, have energy for an uprising.

I saw something different. More than the actual killing itself I think people were excited to see someone try something new. Luigi adopted a novel tactic, carried it out in a novel way, and in doing so he did more to punish one of the oligarchs bleeding us dry than the entre Occupy movement.

Novelty is the one thing that ties Donald Trump and Luigi Mangione together. The enthusiastic public response to both men’s actions and the simultaneous revulsion of traditional elites are mirrors of themselves. In 2024, Trump still had enough novelty to convince people that he might upset the apple cart in some way that benefited them. He rode a global anti-incumbent wave back to the White House.

The consequence of this is that he and his are now on their way to becoming the new establishment. This is an underappreciated downside of the fact that most legacy media outlets have started moderating their coverage of Trump, if not embracing him outright. He is being normalized. His toadies, Musk chief among them, are now our legitimate powers. What novelty remains will fade rapidly.

I suspect the same thing will be true of the copycats who follow in Luigi Mangione’s footsteps.

Most of his plagiarists won’t be good at what they do. At best newly heightened security will see Luigi’s plagiarists dropped before they can pull a trigger. At worse, innocent people will be killed or maimed by bullets and bombs that fail to hit their intended targets or do but with a lot of collateral damage.

I don’t know what the next new thing will be. But between Trump and Mangione there aren’t many old norms left to shatter. We are in a time of enormous potential. Many new things are about to be tried and as awful and bloody as the fallout from some of them will be we all have no choice but to strap in and roll some dice of our own.

The present is ugly, the future unwritten. The only way we’ll make it a better one is if we embrace boldness, creativity and, perhaps, a little overconfidence of our own."

-Robert Evans

[lesbianalanwake]

Severance S2E2:

--holy shit. I see why the season is 10 episodes instead of 9. two episodes to resolve the S1 finale and wind up to the pitch. there was so much legwork in this episode, and so much tension that I could barely sit still.

--I hope they paid Milchick a big overtime bonus in addition to his new salary!!! man did all that in 48 hours!!!

--Mark and Devon.... Mark being in denial about the possibility that Mark S could have been talking about Gemma, when we later see that it's been weighing on him heavily and he needed to talk to Cobel to confront it. it's such a small, small hope.... if he believes in the possibility that Gemma is alive, and it turns out that she is not, it would destroy him completely, and he's already come so close to destroying himself while grieving the first time. but Devon! Devon is so sharp! she knows her brother, and she glimpsed a younger, lighter version of her brother that she hasn't seen in a long time, and she clocked his tone and body language and everything about the situation correctly! and she can't live with the unanswered question of whether Gemma could be alive, because she misses her sister-in-law and misses who her brother used to be! she can't stop thinking about it while Mark is doing everything in his power to not think about it! aaaaah!

--Cobel bookending this episode by being as unhinged and mysterious as ever. we don't even know if she accepted the advisory council position! what is she up to! the final scene is so fucking good because I was like "I bet she's thinking about hitting Mark with her car," and then she screams like a bat out of hell and almost does just that LMAO. and she's still telling him to quit, even though Lumon is doing something significant with Gemma and "Cold Harbor," enough that they need Mark back to finish it, and Cobel knows what it is and wants something from it, and now Mark knows for sure that Gemma is alive because he needed to look Cobel in the eye and ask. I love their weird fucking dynamic. she's so fucking mad at Lumon, but maybe cares about Mark in her own unhinged way?? and his feelings were HURT that she lied to him because he went straight for the only thing that could maybe hurt her feelings a little bit in turn ("I ate your shitty fucking cookies").

--makes me hope that Cobel gets a "villain turned weird ally" arc, and that Milchick is right behind her, because he's already getting a taste of how thankless the severed floor manager position is, getting no guidance beyond "let Kier guide your heart" and having to defend the feat he managed to pull together in 48 hours.

--which brings me to: HELENA. HELENAAA. class traitor arc INCOMING. the "behind the scenes" bit reinforced this too: she is living in a gilded cage (the shot of her on the top floor with the windows acting as bars!) and seeing that her innie of all people gets affection and respect in a way that she never has, and she is enthralled. you can do it baby! I hope you kill your dad!

- I'm glad they clarified that the correct term for complex innie/outie romantic dynamics is "throuple" because Mark/Helly is finally compelling. by itself = eh. as part of Helena's development and possibly some kind of villainous fixation that can't possibly end well no matter how you slice it because Mark/Mark S is also going through a throuple thing with his dead wife who is actually alive, and don't think I've forgotten whatever thing that Helena and Milchick had going on in S1 (which is the only thing I was missing from this ep and hope they revisit) = now we're cooking with gas. not to mention Burt spying on Irving! throuples for days.

--tentatively believing that it really is Helena down there, and they sent her to play the part of Helly R to keep Mark complacent so that Cold Harbor gets finished, because Helly is too much of an unpredictable wild card but Helena is controllable (for now!). which would add another juicy flavor to Mark/Helly. they really did it, they really made the ship pop.

--it is so, so compelling how innies/outies are opposites. Helly is bold and rebellious, Helena is calm and subservient. Mark S is sweet and mild-mannered, Mark is cold and sarcastic. Dylan G is confident and driven, Dylan George is nervous and hesitant. Irving B is obedient and proper, Irving Bailiff is defiant and unconventional. and yet! bits of the other shine through, and we see it more and more, and they're slowly but surely on a collision course.

--the Good Doors interviewer says "you remind me of myself" and looks like Dylan, and I love this show because I can't tell if it's to continue the visual motif of doubling/reflections and show a "what could have been" path for Dylan, or if it's because there is truly something FUCKED going on across this whole town. or both.

--Lumon is in such a precarious position. they're a major global corporation, and they have politicians in their pocket, but there is also a lot of hostility and mistrust from the general public, enough to make a severed employee unhireable. (which further entraps their employees and keeps them dependent on Lumon.... Dylan. 😭) Lumon has to walk a fine line to continue, uh, whatever it is they're doing, without turning the public against them in a way that they couldn't recover from, hence the placating attempts at damage control. but all it would take would be a sufficiently strong spark to light that powder keg.

--because like, man.... I hope Helena and Cobel and Milchick all get their "fuck you Lumon" arcs. god. so many threads poised to unravel out of control and snap with the right push because the line that Lumon is walking is THIN. they do the most to try to control their severed employees, but they seem to take their non-severed employees for granted, and I'm wondering if that will be their undoing.

[pearlescentparade]

Omg someone who does forsaken YAY 😭 headcanons for Two time x deity user that’s based off of the spawn point cuz like two times in a cult or something

heh... ive gotten requests for two time..... two times [gets shot]

🔄 two time x spawn deity! reader headcanons 💞

utterly devoted to you. you literally represent all of that which they believe in, why wouldn't they be??

always by your side, or following you. they're a Shadow, after all

their insanity intensifies, but they insist that they feel at peace with you. the problem is, it's only with you. when you're not around, they feel restless and irrational

they might have separation anxiety

you need to remind them to eat, sleep and take basic care of themself because they forgo those in order to spend all of their time with you

would do anything you ask them to, so it's easy to get them to do the last headcanon if you frame it as if it's an assignment from you

"it's late. many mortals sleep at this hour."

"that's okay, i don't need to sleep!"

"...i grow weaker with my followers. i ask you to sleep so my power is maintained."

"ah, i see! then goodnight, my god. please watch over my dreams!!"

only ever refers to you as "my god", never your name or anything else

whether you're actually connected to the cult or not, they'll follow you above everything else. why settle with the believers when they could have the belief itself?

refuses to tell the cult about you, despite being a fellow member. they believe you've chosen them as your most devoted and faithful follower, and if the others knew about you, two time's worried you'll be too occupied with the other members to gaze upon them again

you agree with not telling the cult, but rather because you're already bothered enough by the one member. you can't imagine dealing with several at the same time if they're all as clingy as two time is

meeting you makes them feel like all the terrible things they've done were worth it

you've tried to isolate yourself from them, feeling that no mortal should ever be so bonded to a deity and it would only lead to ruin

it was no use. they found you, no matter where you were

akin to a dog, loyal and dependent

a bit annoying to be honest. when it gets too much you just kill them and respawn them to teach them a lesson. it's traumatizing and excruciatingly painful, so you don't know why they keep coming back to you even so

sometimes other deities tease you about them

"oh? i see your little puppy isn't with you today."

"refrain from referring to my follower like they're an animal, lest you desire for me to sick them onto you."

they like to be cupped in your palms and brought close to your face when you're in a larger form

you like to put them into a forcefield and lightly shake them around like a hamster in a hamsterball. two time does not find this nauseating activity as amusing as you do but they suck it up and deal with it because you look pleased doing it to them

two time gets very overprotective when someone approaches you. clutching their dagger, they're ready to strike at any sign of danger

you think it's foolish for a fragile mortal to risk and endanger their life for a deity that doesn't die as easily. though you tell them this many times, two time still persists on it

desperate for your approval

loves to bring you gifts, though you say you've no need for material things. think of it as sacrificial offerings! hand-made bracelets, food, a body... a body?

thankfully, they were only an unconscious person that two time happened upon while on their way to meet with you.. and thought it was a good idea to sacrifice them to you. you released them and reprimanded two time

they've attempted to offer their blood, but you quickly stopped them before they could draw it with their dagger, reminding them that harm to them harms you too. that was enough to get them to never consider it again

has a shrine dedicated to you, complete with incense and pictures and statuettes made in your likeness

lowkey wants to sever you from your divinity and ground you to the mortal realm

(a/n: this concept kinda crazy this is like if u were buddhist and siddhartha gautama himself was real and was ur bff like can u imagine anyway i imagine this relationship would be super codependent and a bit more on the unhealthy side considering reader's mere existence would fuel two time's obsession with the spawn so i hope i did well at portraying that!)

[heyyoungbloods]

Buckle up, babes, because I'm about to talk about Valentino a lot.

I've been thinking about Val a lot since me and @starfallisle started writing "Go to Hell for the Company" and I have Opinions about him, because I actually ended up finding him a lot more interesting and fun to write than I expected.

First I'd like to draw attention to this post that @potionorchard wrote about Val and his emotional intelligence, because I definitely agree with it. To summarize it, Valentino is not exactly a smart guy, but he's very emotionally intelligent and knows how to play people based on their emotions and connections to him, which is likely a big factor in how he became an Overlord in the first place.

Valentino is a mean guy, but he's capable of being nice, being kind. He can give people what they want from him, if he thinks it's worth his time and effort to do so. I think a great example of the two major sides of Valentino are his relationship with Angel versus with Vox.

With Angel Dust: Val knows he doesn't have to try with Angel, because he's got him under contract. He doesn't have to put effort into Angel if he doesn't want to, so he's willing to let himself get fed up with Angel and lash out at him. He'll put on his sweeter side when it suits him, but it's not necessary. The Val that Angel knows is likely the Val most people know in the long term. But I think before he was chained down, Angel knew a whole different Valentino. A kind, sweet, maybe even loving Val.

With Vox: I think Vox is one of the few people Val doesn't see as below him, same with Velvette. They are his business partners after all. More than that, it's clear that Val and Vox have a relationship beyond business, and have had it for a while probably. With Vox, Val has to play the game a little more strategically. @potionorchard pointed this out in her post that when Val doesn't get the results of Vox's attention that he wanted, he immediately turns around and plays Vox, riling him up by mentioning Alastor and then teasing him about it. Val knew what he was doing for that whole exchange. But, outside of these kind of instances, I think it's easy to see that Val has genuine feelings of some kind for Vox. He keeps the photo of them, and the whole dance between him and Vox in the finale speaks for itself I think. Val doesn't have as tight a hold on his temper as he could (or maybe even wishes he did) but he reins it in for Vox when he knows it won't benefit him to use it, or redirects it as needed so Vox isn't the direct subject of it.

I think Valentino uses kindness and affection as a weapon. He knows emotions are powerful motivators and uses them as his primary tools for predation pre: contracts and with those he knows he can't overpower. This is a major factor behind how I choose to write Val in my RPs and fics, why I make him kind when he's trying to achieve long term results, and why he's overall nicer to Vox than anyone else in the day-to-day.

Val is mean, Val is abusive, but he has the capability of being good for the people he has genuine affection for. However, his handle on his temper isn't good enough, and he'll lash out at anyone when he gets worked up enough. I personally think Valentino has some kind of feelings for Angel, but because Angel is under contract and not his perceived equal, he doesn't make the effort to be what Angel would want him to be, the person that Vox gets more often than not. Val is selfish with Angel and puts his own needs and desires above Angel's unless he can figure out how to also benefit from them.

I think Valentino wants to love people, but he struggles with perception (ironic given his eyesight.) I think Val builds his idea of a person in his mind, and when they do something that goes against what he expects of them based on that idea, he reacts poorly. His selfishness battles against this deep down want-- a want that is often overtaken by lust and pride and is therefore easy to miss, even by him.

This post is getting pretty long so I will stop it here. tl;dr: I think Valentino is messy and complicated and I like him for that reason. Am I reading too much into him? Maybe! But he's more interesting this way, don't you think?

[eldragon-x]

Gonna write out this idea that Silver inspired in me in a post because I'm not sure I'll get around to actually writing a fic for it and I just need more people to think about Mirabelle and Odile moments with me.

I've brought up before that it's kinda insane that Odile pulled out a spell that stopped Siffrin from looping back in time. Like whatever she used here is able to interact with Time Craft, which itself would normally kill the user.

So I think it's quite possible that she herself might suffer craft exhaustion as a result of this. Add on that the party had to run through the distorted House at night to catch up with Siffrin and that Odile isn't the most physically fit person at her age.

But maybe she pushes that aside. Siffrin was hit harder by Craft Sickness, everyone was concerned about him, the party decided to leave Dormont rather sooner than later for their sake, she can handle it.

But it does catch up to her soon enough after a long day of the party fighting their way through Sadnesses and making it to an Inn by the evening. She's tired, her body hurts, she feels ill, and she's bruised and dirty from the battles, not helped by her performance already dwindling since the party left Dormont.

So she's sitting on her bed, dizzy and aching, wishing she could take the opportunity to take a bath but feeling too weak to do so. It affects her to the point where Mirabelle can tell that she's not doing well and asks if she can help her in any way.

Odile admits at this point that maybe she didn't give herself enough rest since that day in Dormont and that she's frustrated because she can't do much at all right now. And now that she brought it up, she wonders if Mirabelle is alright, since she also performed a powerful spell that day.

Mira appreciates the concern, but assures Odile she's doing okay. The shield spell was complicated, but not so exhausting that she wouldn't have recovered over a good night's sleep. Moreso she feels rather guilty for not having checked up on Odile earlier.

All that being said, she offers to help Odile bathe. Being a healer and having spent a lot of time studying about anything in the House of Dormont, I imagine she has some degree of medical training and trusts herself to handle people.

Odile gets tense but weighting her options, decides it's probably the most logical step here and she'd rather Mira assists her than anyone else. It turns into a bit of a back and forth of them trying to assure each other that they don't have to if they're uncomfortable, but Odile wants to be practical and refresh herself, and Mirabelle can take the innitiative when she needs to and at worst will feel slightly awkward about helping someone she knows personally in such a vulnerable position.

Odile actually feels a lot more embarrassed about the whole situation because it's strange having to rely on someone notably younger than herself after essentially assigning herself as the Adult™️ of the party looking out for everyone else. But Mira doesn't hesitate, gets straight to the point, and after helping Odile settle, she stays to sit down next to the bathub in case Odile needs help reaching something or getting out, make sure she doesn't fall asleep and goes under, and tries to ease the tension for her by bringing up a book she's been reading.

Odile is surprised to hear that Mira's into horror literature but gets genuinely invested which helps her relax. Mira ends up convincing Odile to borrow one of her books and jokes that she will have to read through it while the party decides to stay at the inn for the following week so she can recover.

Odile's tempted to protest the suggestion that they should stop for over a week, just for her, but drops it. The party can take their time now, that the curse isn't threatening the country anymore. She supposes they also did promise to look out for each other, she just didn't think she'd need to rely on anyone else.

On Mira's insistence, Odile gets bed rest for the following days, with the rest of the party helping her get whatever she needs, while she picks up Mirabelle's book whenever she can.

[quibbs126]

So after the last batch of Cyberverse sketches, I tried to do more here with Cyberverse Megatron specifically, since he kind of stuck himself in my brain, at least yesterday

Admittedly I wish I drew more, but by that last corner I just wasn’t sure what to draw. I actually did draw something, yet again trying to draw that one kissing meme thing with him and Optimus, but yet again it didn’t turn out right looking, so you don’t see it

But other than that, while I’m aware my drawings aren’t the best, I do think I’m at least getting the hang of drawing this version of Megatron. I’m aware his face is still off looking, but oh well

My only real thoughts for what to draw with him were “more of body”, “him thinking “oh no that’s hot” at something Optimus is doing”, “season 3 Megs” and “he drink coffee”. And also to attempt lineless

Note on that last thing, at least on the head, it’s not as difficult as I’d thought it’d be. I could probably do it, if I at least knew what I wanted to draw

I don’t really have much to say on the drawings themselves though? There isn’t much going on that I haven’t already said. All I can say is I tried to use screenshots for references more than usual, since I thought it’d help. I did stop at some point, but still

I don’t know how I feel about Cyberverse Megatron. I think he’s really only in my head because I was searching for Cyberverse megop fanfics after finishing the show

But also, he’s sort of your typical Megatron. An asshole, and usually the cause of alliances falling short and me saying “Megatron, you bitch”. Granted he’s not as evil as other Megatrons, at least most of the time, considering he was willing to destroy the AllSpark that one time, but it’s probably also because the Autobots and Decepticons have to team up so often in Seasons 2 and 3

But then there’s Season 3b Megatron, in which he has some adventure across the multiverse and comes back to help his universe, armed with his own Matrix and actually willing to save the day and have peace with Optimus and end the war, even if the planet is split in two. And at least in his initial appearance, he seems like he’s actually become at least a slightly better person

Like on one hand, I like this idea of him becoming better on his own time, and also we can just accept that maybe he’s become actually better since we don’t know what he was up to to cause this. But in the other, I really would have liked to see what he was up to. I guess they didn’t have enough time to show us

But yeah in 3b, he’s still an ass but he isn’t causing too much trouble, and is instead preparing for a worse threat to come, and then dies not as a villain, though he got taken out too quick to be called a hero in this scenario. Kind of disappointed he didn’t really get to do anything when the other Megatron showed up, would have been nice to see

But also I’m told that’s actually what kills him? He actually dies? I guess it is a more powerful version of him, but considering the other things other Megatrons have survived, and also we never really saw him die in the episode itself, considering he made noises of pain after being attacked and we just didn’t see him again after Bee took his Matrix, it feels kind of weak to me

I don’t know, his concepts in 3b are interesting to me

Also random side note, while I wasn’t expecting it, I appreciate his fusion cannon and mace having red lights instead of purple. I’m used to the purple but the red is consistent with the rest of his colors

Also there’s the subject of Cyberverse megop. It doesn’t have TFA’s issue of being strangers, in fact they seem to have known each other for a very long time and there’s no Elita or anything in this universe to be another past option for Optimus. And Megatron does do some bad things in this series, some worse than others, but also it seems like the characters of this show aren’t the most serious about this war, at least not like they are in Prime or something. Apparently every few millennia or so Optimus and Megatron try to have peace talks and negotiate, only for it to inevitably fall apart and things to start up again, and everyone’s just used to this

I think I can ship it, they have divorced energy and both sides are just used to it, including each other. They are in essence, the core values of typical megop I think, except they were actually on decent terms by the end of things, when Megatron dies. Sad that, why’d he have to die? At least make it heroic or something so he can go out with a bang

Yeah I don’t know, thought I should sprinkle in some thoughts on this version of Megatron while I’m here. I don’t have much honestly other than I think he’s fine and neat, and so is this version of the ship

I think I’m done now

[littlemisssquiggles]

Why did no one tell me about the little “omake” chapters of DandaDan?

I was today years old when I learned the existence of these little extra omake or bonus chapters of Dandadan that expand on what’s going on with some of the other DanDandan characters like the Aira and Evil Eye Jiji one for example.

I thought it quite cute that Evil Eye cared enough about Aira to help her with getting her old friends to start talking to her again. That was actually oddly sweet of him.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Evil Eye might secretly have a widdle crush on Aira. Doesn’t have to be true. I mean it’s just me spitting here.

But I’d be lying if Evil Eye crushing on Aira is definitely feeding into my thoughts on Aira and Jiji eventually being a couple.

I DO LIKE the Jijira ship. I mean Dandadan got me wracking up new ships to love like Uno cards with each new arc.

Already I’m Team Momokarun - obviously. Otherwise why am I even here if not to suffer at the hands of Yukinobu Tatsu as he proceeds to write the most beautiful shoujo romance love story disguised as a shonen battle anime that the world has ever seen and taking his sweet ass time doing it too. That magnificent romantic bastard.

---

I’m Team Jijira - I just think they’re NEAT okay? Our secondary BAKAS IN LOVE potential couple next to Momokarun.

No seriously, I think these two can actually work really, REALLY well together if Aira would just come to her senses of seeing that Okarun is OBVIOUSLY in love with Momo and NOT her, get over him and redirect her interest to the guy who is actually always by her side more than Okarun. Meaning Jiji.

As for Jiji and where he stands on love and romance. To all the people who keep saying that Jiji is in LOVE with Momo, I raise you one important question? Where? Where is this love you keep insinuating that Jiji has for Momo?

Believe me, I have watched the anime. I have read the manga up to date and all I’ve seen so far is a good boy who just simply cares very deeply for his childhood friend and is very protective of her. Nothing more.

I mean Aira is more obvious with her feelings for Okarun than Jiji is for Momo.

I dunno man. The Momiji ship and its shippers is giving me Zutara from Avatar vibes. Ya’ll up in here painting this magnificent love story between these two characters and telling everybody who would listen about it but when you actually read the ACTUAL canon content, there is nothing to insinuate anything like that at all.

Then again, I might just be biased because even IF Jiji DID in fact have a crush on Momo … that means shit because WE KNOW Jiji will NEVER end up with Momo BECAUSE SHE IS IN LOVE WITH OKARUN AND HE LOVES HER TOO!

Not unless Tat-Tat writes an arc where there’s an alternative universe/ reverse time line type shit where Momo ended up with Jiji instead of Okarun due to weebly wobbly, timey wimey stuff.

And now thanks to Aira omake chapter with the Evil Eye, I have more reasons to believe that Jijira could be a possibility. Either way, my Jijira shipping heart has been fed.

---

I’m Team Vaminta: or Kintola? Whatever the official Vamola x Kinta ship is called. Doesn’t matter. Vamola is (literally) a queen and Kinta is her king. Nuff said!

My goat and baby girl deserve each other!

---

And finally; I’m Team Rinuma - yes, yes, I KNOW Rin and Zuma have yet to actually officially interact in the story but how can I NOT ship them prematurely. The girl with gravity powers making people float and the boy with the umbrella? C’mon it’s like poetry. The ship practically writes itself even if Tat-Tat hasn’t gotten there yet. I see the vision and I’m embracing it while I can; dagnabbit!

---

So yeah, those are my current favourite Dandadan ships. Returning to the omakes, I also enjoyed the Chiquitta one.

Did not know Chiquitta was attending school on Earth. I mean it would make sense since his father is currently working on Earth so that Chiquitta can get all the milk he can get to keep himself healthy and strong. Yeah makes perfect sense actually.

Loved the chapter showing Chiquitta protecting his classmates from older bullies. Like father, like son. Chiquitta got hands man! That’s our favourite kappa son!

Also Chiquitta imitating Jiji of all people when interacting with a girl is insanely cute. Of all the people for Lil Chiqui to copy, why Jiji of all people? Then again, better him that Kenta, am I right?

There’s also speculation now that the little girl that suspects Chiquitta to be an alien is actually related to Okarun.

Like she’s his little sister and that Okarun comes from a large family where possibly some of the background characters we’ve probably overlooked throughout the story may allegedly be related to our favourite Yokai speedster.

Personally I’m down for this theory since it’ll actually confirm Okarun as being from Earth instead of my crazy theory of him secretly being a member of a humanoid alien race who was abandoned on Earth at birth and raised by a human family or someting like that. .

Because we have yet to glimpse into what Okarun’s home life is as yet, it’s got me wondering if Okarun even has a family. I mean surely he has to have a home because in spite being a loner/outcast for most of his school life, Okarun is always well-clothed, well fed and stocked up on occult-related magazines.

So outside of the alien heritage theory, it wouldn’t surprise me if Okarun actually comes from a pretty wealthy family and the reason why he’s always seen ready and flexible to go off on his own without his parents wondering about his whereabouts is probably because Okarun’s parents/caretakers are probably living a life where they’re never home with him.

Perhaps Okarun’s parents work overseas and the reason for Okarun’s deep fascination with the occult is cause its related to his parents’ occupation.

Maybe his parents are archaeologists or astrologists or a pair of people who study these kind of things and often have to travel abroad for long periods of time while Okarun is left alone; unable to accompany them due to him attending school in Japan.

I mean, it would make sense why we haven’t seen them as yet in the story. To me, Okarun living alone because his parents work overseas sounds more plausible than them secretly being alien.

Perhaps the little girl who suspects Chiquitta of being an alien doesn’t necessarily have to be someone related to Okarun. Perhaps she’s his neighbour or something. Or maybe she doesn’t even know Okarun and is just someone related to Chiquitta’s side of the story.

On the subject of aliens, it would actually be pretty funny if Okarun’s parents were another pair of refugee aliens who have been living on Earth for years and thus Okarun is secretly an alien who was born and raised on Earth.

Like his parents brought him up on the occult to desensitize him to the existence of the alien race. Their race; although they never revealed the truth of their alien lineage to Okarun, wanting him to grow up believing himself to be just a “normal human boy on Earth” when he actually isn't.

I mean that’s another theory for the pool of possibilities.

If Okarun parents are indeed secretly aliens then imagine them being Ken Takakura fans as much as Momo is because his movies were the first thing they were exposed to once they came to Earth and thus they decided to take the surname of Takakura and named their Earth-born “alien” son, Okarun after him.

It would honestly be insane if there comes a time when Momo gets to meet Okarun’s parents and the first thing they bond over is their shared love for Ken Takakura.

That would actually be insanely cute.

Overall, these are just little headcanons. For all I know, there’s probably no twist to Okarun at all.

He could really just be a regular guy who, despite everything that life had thrown at him, lucked out and found the love of his life and the literal girl of his dreams when she just happened to be passing by on a bad day and noticed him for the first time.

That really could be just it.

Then again; who really knows.

We really have to see what Tat-Tat has cooking up in that noggin of his for this ongoing love story he's made.

The most I will say is that the longer the story drags on with us readers never seeing or knowing anything about Okarun’s homelife, the more this squiggle meister will start to believe that he’s secretly an alien until it’s debunked by the actual story.

~LMS (2025)

[r-aindr0p]

"magical boys"

*BREAKS DOWN A WALL AMD CHUCKS MINI ROLLOS TO ANYTHING IN SIGHT*

WHERE?!

*visibly shaking* I am normal about this reversal trope of magical girls. I can definetely be trusted to not squeeze this mozarrella with a bowl cut to death. *mini rollo definitely being squeezed to death*

No idea if it's three anons or one but that's really sweet ✨ pls beware depending on which guy you plan to eat some of them give food poisoning or hallucinations (thinking abt some as those small colorful rainforest frogs)

I love magical girl animes very much, grew up watching tokyo mew mew (and somehow managed to watch wedding peach all on youtube a long time ago, i did not understand the english subtitles at all lmao, rewatched it years later and loved it), so imagine my surprise when I stumbled accross the first (if you ignore saint seiya) full on magical boy anime in 2015 and ever since I wanted to draw my own, and now I have my musketeers :)))

A lot more magical boy yapping under the cut because I love this trope so much

Anime I'm talking abt is 'Binan Koukou Chikyuu bouei-bu love' btw ! It's on the parodic side but not as much shitpost-ish as 'magical girl ore' for example. It takes itself "seriously" in it's own way. (and the ending song talks about 2 characters of the show that drifted apart and how there's 3 meters only separating them but it's enough for one to miss the other and aughhh my heart I could yap about this for ages)

LOOK AT THEM (couldn't find a decent pic of the season 1 clothes, this is season 2 and the pic is still low res augh)

Like, I was ?? idk in my last year of middle school maybe when I found this ?? fantastic discovery. Pink wombat mascot with the voice of an old man gives cute bracelets to 5 guys to save the earth. They have to say "love making" and kiss their bracelet to transform, I'm crying And here's the villains of season 1 and season 2 (twins) (silver haired bowl cut annoyed guy is my favorite, what a familiar description....)

There's 3 seasons in total to this anime and season 3 has a new cast of guys but years later at the same school !

Scenario is basically the same as season 1 but with different guys and villains, but omg the otter..... I love that yellow otter so much..... (look they have magical ace and deuce ) Villains of season 3 are called "edelstein knights" or something (ince again an angry guy with ridiculous bangs considered a villain, my beloved)

Other legit magical boy I love a lot is 'Fairy Ranmaru' !! It takes itself more seriously than binan koukou, in it's own scandalous way I'd say. They went ham with the fanservice during transformations it's crazy-(especially uruu's transformation) def +16 at least They do try to talk about serious matters and feelings/emotions in general. I cant' really tell if it's well written since I'm really an easy audience, I should watch it a second time... It's a visual experience at least if you're into that kind of designs

Blue guy my beloved.... Not showing any more, you can find the transformations on yt crunchyroll literally published them

Alright one last "magical" boy/girl, it's not even exceptionnal but it's a fever dream shitpost that has a special place in my heart : 'Classicaloid' So a girl's father created humanoids with the memories of classical composers and went to get milk, leaving them all. The classicaloids eventually decide to squat at the girl's house. They have magical powers called "musik" and have a small transformation animation. So to a certain extent I do consider this a magical people anime.

Here's everyone from season 1 (untransfromed) Beethoven and Bach (maybe mozart too tbh) are the most recognizeable but good luck to guess the others :') (Liszt and Tchaikovsky are genderbent) They are all so whacky together I love them so much, bach only speaks in musical terms "andante, pianissimo etc.." Chopin is the looser of all times, Mozart is.... Mozart, and Dvorak (season 2) became a pigmy hippo for literally no reason The animation is nice but the ending song illustrations ??? dang

First two pics are from season 2 endings, they all represent an important location for the composers or something related to them (for example Chopin's is the père lachaise cemetery in paris where irl one has a tomb) Really I'm amazed by all the ending art pieces, I can't put more than 10 pics per post, I would've showed them all otherwise eeee) On the thrid pic you actually see mozart in his musik outfit ! An in one ep he even lets his hair loose ahierjh

(takt:op is absolutely in my watchlist)

If you made it this far thank you for listening to the yapping, wether it was interesting or not ! :)))

[cookierunoutofideas]

Day 2 of "Writing SMC angst until he stops breaking my heart and comes home" (welp)

*voz da Patrícia Lélis expondo Estilista Juliana* Ô, gente, voltei.

Another day, another failure. Lady Luck hates me, as suspected. Anyway, this fic is inspired by this post by @allimili , whose art I love so much QwQ No Beta and I also don't have my glasses so pardon any errors

One-Sided! Shadow Milk Cookie x ex!fem!Reader; Truthless Recluse (Pure Vanilla Cookie?) x fem!Reader

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Love is a very odd thing, Shadow Milk Cookie muses to himself. Despite being the holder of Knowledge itself, not even he can truly explain love and its intricacies. Even after feeling it himself, he still doesn't truly understand it.

Befero he abandoned the duty forced on him by the Witches, he had loved with abandon. He didn't know any better-and yes, he can notice the irnoy. But it hadn't mattered back then because he was in love and he was loved and, despite the growing pit of despair and stress in his heart due to his duties, he had been happy.

Happy to see her smile and to hear her voice. Happy to hold her hand and hug her close. Happy to kiss her lips and breath in her scent. He had been happy by her side, through thick and thin and rain and sun and sickness and health and joy and sadness. They had even dreamed of the future together, promises sealed in between bedsheets and sleepless nights.

But then he finally woke up and saw the Witches for what they were: terrible demons of cruelty, gleefully controlling cookies to their whims, a little pet project to pass the time. Right after, he understood what the other cookies truly are: useless batches of greedy ungrateful dolls, baked with every single one of the Witches' sins just to torment those who dream of a better world.

And so his rebellion started, joined by his four friends.

But she... she simply couldn't see. Or, rather, she didn't want to see. Not that he truly blames her, of course, after all, the Witches made sure no cookie would ever learn of their perversion. All his darling beloved knew was the silly cookies and their insignificant little lives.

She had rejected his changes. Gone were the smile and loving words and warm hugs and longing kisses.

The last glare she gave him when he was sealed in that damned tree was of pure hurt and anger. He swore to himself he'd get out and find her again, bring back her pretty smile and shower her in the love she deserved as he once did. He'd make sure of it, make sure she'd finally understand him and his goals. Everything would go back to happiness.

The next time he saw her, (Y/N) was smiling at Pure Vanilla Cookie the exact same smile she'd once give Shadow Milk Cookie.

For a brief moment, he believed the lie that she somehow knew that he was there, watching over her through the blonde cookie. Only for a brief moment, though, enough time for said blonde cookie to confess his feelings to her.

That was not in te script.

(Y/N) Cookie did have a knack for rewriting stories, though, so he should've expected something someone to be beyond his control. It was one of the reasons he had been so enamored with her in the past.

Still he screamed and cried when she returned Pure Vanilla's confession with one of her own.

His rage was so great even Burning Spice Cookie shut up from the root of the silver tree he was confined. Not that Shadow Milk cared, he didn't care for anything but his plans to destroy that weak little thief who stole not only hsi power but his beloved! And his plans to punish said beloved for her infidelity. Ultimately, he'd forgive her, of course, but she needed to pay before it could happen.

And what better way to do it than to corrupt her precious Pure Vanilla Cookie? Make him become just like Shadow Milk Cookie? Show her that in the end, she is meant to be his.

Except.

Except that when the time comes and he finally has Pure Vanilla Cookie Truthless Recluse drowning in the pit of deceit, (Y/N) Cookie doesn't leave him.

She is saddened, yes, and she frequently pleads that he "fights it" and "remember who he is" and "stop hurting other cookies, Milk, there must be another way", but she does. Not. Leave. She stays with him, takes care of him, gives him kisses and hugs.

And Truthless Recluse is so annoying about it too. Kissing her and hugging her and holding her hands and carrying her and smiling at her in a way he should've forgotten because he is not Pure Vanilla Cookie, Pure Vanilla Cookie never never n ever ever existed ever! Ever! everevereverever it has always been Shadow Milk Cookie ALWAYS ALWAYS SO WHY?!

WHY?

Why is that copy the one allowed to love her? How can he even love her? How can he love her when he is not Shadow Milk Cookie? How can he still keep enough of his pitiful sense of self to keep on loving (Y/N) Cookie?! IT'S ALL WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG

Shadow Milk Cookie truly doesn't understand love.

Not that he needs to to hate it.

[kiymathefreaker]

Married to Slenderman or being his S/O? I hope this isn't too specific! I love my scary husband!!

OOOOH I love this

BEING MARRIED TO SLENDERMAN / BEING HIS S/O

•First of all, I don’t think Slender is a cutie patootie like other people in the fandom hc him as.

•I think he’s a dangerous and ruthless entity which would do anything for power.

•But for his one and only S/O, yeah things change.

•I think being chosen as Slenderman’s S/O is something really special.

•You are his human, you are chosen by Slenderman itself and it should be an honor.

•Okay enough meat riding Slender, back to your request.

•Slender is a busy man, he has many jobs to do and many men to kill.

•But he will always make time for you, his little human.

•He’s supposed to have a meeting with the proxys? Yeah you’re there sitting at the head of the table giving your own ideas.

•He has paperwork to do? You’re sitting on his lap helping him with grouping files.

•I don’t think Slenderman knows how to cook since he never needed it, but he will definitely help you with it.

•He would help you get things from cabinets you are not able to reach, he would help you with grinding and cutting things cause like he has 20 tentacles he can do all of that at once.

•I hc that Slender would be a clean freak, so cleaning by yourself is out of the question for you.

•He would help you clean, probably do a lot of things by himself honestly, and give you tips about what would work best on the mold that has been growing on the walls of your house LMFAOOO.

•He would spoil his lover honestly cause why wouldn’t he?

•He would send the proxys to get you things that you want, would throw feasts for your birthday and special occasions like your anniversaries and stuff.

•He would bathe and feed you when you get tired, would spoil you to death and would not take excuses from you.

•Overall, the would be an affectionate and loving S/O with great communication skills despite not having a mouth LOL.

Its my first time writing for Slenderman so I hope you liked it, Iet me know if you want to see more of this scenario because I feel like I wrote less than I would normally

[whiplaesh]

- 0:00 | how considerate

[ sakura x reader x sana ]

entwine masterlist > next

warnings - mentions of infidelity & sex

being faced with the sana miyawaki wasn't anything of what you had expected of the transaction.

"you're perfect." is the first thing she had said at the sight of you, her designer shades resting just above her hairline, neatly holding her hair out of her face.

a string of compliments spilled out of her mouth, you hadn't yet known of her intentions until she asked you to sit down across from her.

her happy and giddy expression stayed plastered on her face even when speaking of her reasoning for hiring you.

her bluntness nearly made you uneasy.

"as any rational person in a marriage with someone as...powerful as sakura," she begins, "i have a fear that she's cheating on me."

you don't react to the statement, she wouldn’t be the first one hiring you out of need of companionship.

instead you continue looking at her awaiting the next words to spill out of her red stained lips.

"so how do i fix it? it's simple: i can't." a bitter chuckle escapes but the woman catches herself. "but if she is cheating; i obviously and unsurprisingly want to know about it."

not quite understanding what she's saying you question her, "pardon me but i'm failing to grasp the proposal?"

sana laughs as if your sentence was genuinely amusing.

"of course, you aren't a p.i or anything, god knows i've hired oh so many," she stands up, walking towards a mantle near her office desk to pour herself liquid courage. "she's a sneaky one...that miyawaki."

without asking she pours you a glass of whatever she's drinking, handing it to you as she sits back in her seat. "i want you to seduce her."

not knowing quite what it was, you don't take a sip of your drink. "so you want me to be leverage on how you find out she’s cheating?"

for a less than messy divorce? you wondered.

it was almost laughable, the idea of sana introducing you to sakura as someone else while having the lingering knowledge of how you’re supposed to attempt to bed her woman.

this wasn’t usually what you did, it was clear.

you've been in the business for a while, yet this situation was definitely one for the books.

"i know this is immature of me, but i do know the woman i married." the elder speaks with sincerity, "call it a gut feeling."

with no response sana takes it as a sign to continue her job offer. “im not expecting you to sleep with her, i have a pretty bad jealousy streak..”

“i also know that sex isn’t in your particular job description of course.” she swiftly adds with a knowing glance in your direction.

getting into this business wasn’t an easy task for you, of course you’ve had sex with clients before. it was the top purpose of your job even being a consideration for customers.

hell if toronto hadn’t happened you wouldn’t have ever stopped accepting those specific jobs.

it sure did slow down your clientele, even if you had loyal customers that liked you enough personality wise.

that in itself was a strange thing. sure you were good at your job sexually but you’ve been told more than once on different occasions that you quote on quote ‘lacked emotional awareness.’

you still have yet to know whatever that meant.

after finishing her full glass, sana sits it down on the center table before reaching for her purse to pull out a checkbook.

"for your consideration..." she says with a slide of the slip of paper against the surface.

with one look at the number you almost let a curse slip. not believing how much money people took for granted over trivial things such as this.

but who were you to deny easy money.

and this would do more than make up the slack for what you’ve haven’t been making for the past two years.

“you have yourself a deal mrs. miyawaki.”

[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

Hear me out Jofoes with a Reader whose stand that can temporarily bring people from the dead or Jofoes and how they treat Reader when they are sick? Since you needed some requests/ideas related to them. There you go, i can try to come up with more ideas if you want!

I am HEARING you out and I like I like I like. Gonna go with sick reader~

Jofoes x sick reader

Content: some relationship power imbalance and mean behavior, dating/married/undefined but romantic depending on character

Characters: DIO, Kars, Yoshikage Kira, Diavolo, Enrico Pucci, Funny Valentine

DIO: He can’t catch anything from you because he’s not human anymore but…you’re boring when you’re sick and miserable and only want to lay around in bed all day recovering. It was funny at first, watching you whine and sniffle and ask for his attention, but after a day he’s ready for you to be back to normal.

He’s definitely not a caretaker and will not be playing your bedside nurse. At most he will make Vanilla Ice tend to your needs, and only if you’re Really sick, but otherwise he’s not gonna dote on you.

You better hurry up and heal. He’s growing bored of you when you can’t do anything but sleep and complain about not feeling well.

Don’t expect him to spend much time with you like this, and even though he can’t get sick from you he won’t be spending his day with you because he finds your sniffling and coughing annoying and distracting. He tells you that you’re not allowed to get sick again for the entire extent of your relationship with him. You’re really not sure how you’re supposed to make that happen…

But you’ll try-

Kars: He also can’t get ill from any of your human illnesses…but he will take you getting sick as a perfect opportunity to once again observe the frailty of humans, and tease you a bit for your weakness.

You’re not sure if he’s trying to get in your head or just playing with you when he pulls your sick, sorry self into his lap and begins telling you about how he’s never been sick and wants to know if he should be concerned for your life while you battle the common cold. You can try to match his sass, but you interrupt yourself with a pathetic cough.

Ugh. He thinks it’s So funny. Your body is trying to heal itself, and yet you look and feel miserable…how ridiculous.

He’s not going to be a doting and caring partner, but he will spend some time watching over you and observing your condition. Not so much a silent guardian watching over you, and more so a haughty bully teasing you with his arrogant gaze. When you’re feeling especially clingy due to your sickness, he’ll lay your head in his lap and talk to you.

You should feel honored he’s spending time with you, especially now that you’re even weaker than usual. Fortunately, he finds you entertaining, so he’s going to make sure you’re safe for a while yet.

Yoshikage Kira: He’s a bit annoyed when you get sick, because if it’s bad enough he has to take a few days off work and take care of you. And he’ll be even more upset if you get him sick too, so he takes care not to catch whatever you’ve got.

He greatly dislikes the interruption to his routine, but since he has no choice, he will adjust to sleeping on the couch for a few nights so you can keep all your sickness to yourself in the bedroom.

He’ll tend to you, making you soup and keeping track of your medicines for you, but sometimes he doesn’t hide how irritated he is, especially if you stay sick for a while. As soon as you’re able to get out of bed and get stuff for yourself he’s back to work, leaving you to fend for yourself.

But he’s still paying attention, making sure you’re taking proper care of yourself and getting better. His mood will improve as your health does, and once you’re back to normal, he’ll be back to normal too.

He understands that getting sick is just a normal part of life, but please, try not to get sick often. It’s frustrating to have to tend to a needy spouse for a few days when he could be focusing on other things.

Diavolo: He’s a bit annoyed at you, like you chose to get sick just to hinder him for a week. He can’t move you around as easily when you’re too ill to leave bed for long, so he’ll begrudgingly tend to you.

But he’s not a gentle man, prone to impatience and frustration…so he’ll try for maybe half a day before deciding to just let Doppio handle you until you’re less miserable and easier for his fragile nerves to deal with.

Doppio’s…fine. He’ll just get you whatever you request, and chat with you a bit if you really want. Your health is a priority.

The Boss would like you back to normal as soon as possible. Staying in one place too long makes him agitated, so hurry up or he’s gonna give you a hard time.

His example of that is pacing around your bed and nagging you to take your medicine and get over your sickness. And he doesn’t talk very gently to you ever, but it’s especially stressful when you’re sick and he Still cannot take it easy on you.

He’s so damn selfish, sheesh-

Enrico Pucci: He doesn’t feel like catching whatever you have, but does feel that sense of duty to ensure your recovery is comfortable. He’ll try to be outwardly patient with you, but you can tell from his mannerisms that he thinks he has something better he could be doing than tending to a needy, sick spouse.

He’ll make sure you have what you need to be okay stuck in bed for a whole day. Water, healthy snacks, medicines and painkillers…and if you really need anything else that you can’t get yourself for whatever reason…then just call him. He’ll be a little irritated if he has to abandon whatever he’s doing at Green Dolphin Street Prison just to tend to you…

But he knows you can’t help it. And it’s not like it’ll last forever. So he’ll put up with it for now, but please recover soon. He’s not used to you needing this much attention.

Funny Valentine: It’s super easy for him to deal with you when you’re sick, because he can just bring some alternate universe versions of himself to tend to you while he carries on as usual.

He’s not worried about you, and he’ll only check on you when he begins to notice your absence. Such as when he’s been working on paperwork for a while and you haven’t checked on him, since you’re recovering in bed.

He gets bored taking a break from you while you’re sick. He liked you because you were interesting…an escape from stuffy offices and irritating politicians breathing down his neck all the time…

Since he doesn’t have to worry about getting sick, he’ll give up on using this opportunity to be more productive and instead try once to spend some time with you while you’re healing. But like he suspected, you’re boring when you just sleep all day and complain about feeling bad in the few moments you are awake. You won’t be seeing the real Funny often when you’re being“boring”, which he openly calls you when you’re sick.

Unfortunately for him, making alternate versions of himself take care of you made you grow real tired of seeing his face, so by the time you’re feeling better you’re already planning a nice long vacation that he’s not invited on.

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I’m so serious when I say Diavolo would be SO annoying lol. And Valentine. And Kars. Annoying men, smh.