#mana angst

[falling-star-cygnus]

Billy chronically rocks with ass-kickin women and i love that for him -> he really went from:

the Sons of Calydon [and i see you, Lighter, bbg, i do] to the Cunning Hares and in neither is he in a commanding role -> this man supports women's right's AND women's wrongs!!

if we ever get a reveal of the drifters he had travelled with before the Sons, i really hope they're all women too

BUT IF THEY'RE NOT- [if they're all MEN] -> i invite you to imagine with me:

Drifter, trying to tug Billy off to the side: Hey- hey, Kid. Billy, swatting him off but leaning down to sort of have a private convo: What? *the rest of the hares' not so covertly listen in* Drifter, whispering: We sold you to those Sons of Calydon people, why are you with the Cunning Hares!? Billy, also whispering: They recruited me! Drifter: What!? *bewildered silence* Drifter: ...Damn. Damn, Kid. All the broads want you Billy: Don't- call my coworkers.. broads. Please.

[blueblurseptember]

anyway, this photo scares me bc there's nothing hoyoverse hates more than two happy siblings

[littlelightfish]

I finnaly did some Holm drawings <3

Holm and Mickbell got separated from the rest of the party because of monsters. Mickbell is terrified because he knows they're the only left alive. If Holm dies, he'll be all alone down here and probably just get killed too. Holm is... badly injured, has little mana left, not enough to heal himself. He's having trouble breathing and everything hurts. Mick is pressing his hat(? against one of his many injures, but it's not doing much. He knows they'll both die here.

Everyone died before him trying to protect him. The monster took all his companions lifes before dying thanks to Marillier. He is so tired and roughed up of this happening (because it does happen a lot, to him to be the the last man standing and everyone dying in protecting him bc he can revive them), but let's it happen. He can't really do anything other than survive to help his friends and it's frustrating.

He's a silly creature. Frozen in place. Having prision flashbacks. He not okie-dokie.

He so silly I love him <3.

[shxrry-blossom]

It would have been so cool if they had delved into this in the manhwa. If they did it right, Jennette could have been the first reformed villain in a manhwa (???? The potential 😭

[alistair-blackwood]

i love sincerely love working with dungeon meshi's magic system and the way mana sickness is depicted, like it has the breadth and scope for some truly powerful and wacky fun shit, but you can also easily bring down the hammer when you want to put the characters in difficult situations they can't get out of without a little creativity. i found when writing for baldur's gate 3 that, unless i was in a modified setting, i was hard-pressed thinking up fun ways for characters to solve their problems without just using magic, especially for the small things. i mean, what fun is throwing a character into a river and needing to warm them up when you can just cast prestidigitation?? it's one of the first things a novice can learn and also it's a cantrip, it literally costs nothing!

[fizhle]

So many opportunities for angst..... and NONE of you guys are taking them.........

[mahoushoujoumonster-x]

“… Tim…”

[noob-slifer]

Link to AO3 here. I haven't written in three years but I'm doing Nano and it works, so here is a little drabble. ;D

Words: 308.

Characters: Allen Walker, Mana Walker.

.

Sometimes, Mana thinks he has a hole in his head.

Mana had known a lot of things without knowing them. He could just do things on his own like a second nature, like somewhat all the knowing was just… put in there. Mana knows how to read even the fancy spelling of the words, knows how to cook in a kitchen, and how to sew his own clothes. All Mana knows that he knows is that he is a clown.

A clown that didn’t know how to take care of a child.

And Allen was a feisty one. He was grumpy and loud in his opinions, but also was tender and patient. Red—Allen constantly worries about him, about the food they ate and where they will sleep tonight. Allen was so sweet, it hurts Mana’s heart sometimes.

So, Mana tries his best for Allen, too. He tries to make him laugh (“you’re too young to look that serious, Allen!”) and tries to make him feel safe and cared for. He tells Allen bedtime stories, so they can sleep better at night, so Allen can dream of the world being beautiful, and not just cold and withering in the winter. Mana teaches Allen about the stars that guide the sailors, and the waves of light that shine in the north. The next year, Mana promises, they can go there. They will laugh and play in the snow, and it won’t be as cold as now.

Mana tries his best, truly. But something is off with him. He tries to remember places or faces that are no longer there. He talks about people that don’t exist. He can see shadows in the corner of his eyes, watching him, haunting him like a cursed memory.

Mana can’t explain why. So, he just thinks—

Mana has a hole in his head.

[crimsonandgoldthieves]

A low snarl at the memory. Back then it was pure suffering and chaos, not only was mana upset about what had been happening to Atem, the thief felt torn because too many damned Bakura's judged. Oh he recalled it like it was yesterday! And with that reminder? fresh anger struck him. Respectfully for Atem he tried to put it past him. But no. Just like he didn't like Godling that much... "She just had to say something about back then."

[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, it's not Jin Woo who greets you..

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. The Twins in front of you.

“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.]

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ꨄ︎ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ Holy shit i finally did it. It took so much thinking and rewriting because i wasn't happy - there were so many things 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~

Thank you for all your support! likes, reblogs & comments or just reading <3 .'*•.¸♡ I really appreciate it <3 ♡¸.•*'

♡¸.•*' ˋ°•*⁀✎ 𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑎

@phisen @bunniotomia @mysterylilycheeta @uchihaclan27

[falling-star-cygnus]

✨📣fanfare music📣✨

Master List Post for The Billy Kid Angst Chronicles >:3 -> hopefully, this will keep me a wee bit more organized with what I have or have not posted. feel free to leave requests on this too, or just feedback about any fic you particularly liked or disliked!!

Computer Virus Dismemberment [Caesar and Lighter's reaction] Matpat Corrupted or Crushed [pt.2] Puppet Taking the Hit Sick Demara's Silly Sister Caesar Hare Headcanons [pt.2, pt.3 pt.4, pt.5] Bunny Ear Billy Shut Down Memory Loss Badass Billy Too Late Unlikely Friends? Reunion! Same soul, Different font

and more to come :D so check back from time to time!!

[midnite-c6]

After reading ur patient!namgyu fanfic I was just wondering if you could pretty please w a cherry on top write a fic about Seowan !! Doesnt have to be doctor x patient, I just need more fics w my beloved Seowan 🔥🔥 have a great day/noon/night!

i haven't seen any fics about seo-wan, it makes me so sad, but here's oneDJFH also, i added squid game tags because i want more nam-gyu lovers to see roh jaewon's character in daily dose of sunshine!! FIRST NON SQUIDGAME FIC .. my fav schizo TT.

kim seo-wan x reader !! <3 warnings: fluff , angst ?! , mentions of mental illness </3

つ⁠｡⁠☆ he's your study buddy!! both of you couldn't pass the exams the first time and you guys bonded over that. the two of you would sit next to each other when the professors lecturing about a lesson, since you both share the interest of being determined in passing the exams this year, there wouldn't be alot of talking during a lecture, but afterwards he's actually quite talkative!

he would also share his notes, giving you a bunch of sticky notes, all of them would have silly random doodles and small comments about how "you can do it!"

you manage to even hang out with him after classes ..which still includes studying, but you told him he needs to let lose, even for a little while. eating noodles in those small shops on the sidewalk, visiting libraries, and if you feel like your falling behind in studies, he would share the other side of his headset, making you listen to the lecture he found on youtube.

a new store would open up right next to the university, because the lessons were tiring and obsessing over the tests is unhealthy, the two of you decide to explore. it was actually a computer-shop.

since then, it's been you and seo-wan's new hobby, to play videogames for hours after lectures, how you were practically his pocket healer, how you two can't play alone without the other right by their side.

this newly-shared interest has gotten you two alot closer, you'd even ask him out, gratefully, the feelings are mutual, kim seo-wan is a simple man. now there'd be long sessions of kissing inside his small apartment, cosplaying, the two of you didn't have alot of money, but this was enough.

video games became a part of your life, one to escape reality. but unfortunately, this hit a little bit harder for kim seo-wan. you'd notice how he wouldn't take the time to study anymore. of course, as the concerned lover you are, you would remind him all the time, but he just wouldn't budge.

his parents were nice, they'd always treat you like you were family, even cooking dinner or lunch for you whenever you come over. since you haven't seen seo-wan in awhile, you'd ask them, only to find out your boyfriend has been sent to a psychiatric unit.

you would visit him everyday, telling him about your day, and asking about his. his day was filled with thinking of you, playing ping-pong with the other patients, and this fantasy world he lives in. but whenever you were too busy to visit, he'd be extra depressed inside the hospital and says he has ran out of mana. </3

you were always intrigued whenever he would tell you about his visions. his stories contain that you were truly his 'mediator', and that you're there in his life to save him. "this is very unprofessional, oh my dear.. mediator, but i'm inlove with you, for you make me look forward to explore even the darkest caves or the highest mountains." he'd take your hand to place a soft kiss on-top. he had forgotten your previous relationship before, atleast he still loves you in the new world he's living in.

you'd end up taking the test without him, but you'd never talk about it in the hospital, you know he needs more time.

in the end, you two agree upon each other to fight the fire dragon together, whatever the future may hold. because, as he confidentally says: "once i've saved up enough mana and leveled up all my armor, i choose you to come with me. you're the only one i can trust in defeating the fire dragon. i will protect you with all my life, my dear mediator!"

i'm sobbing just thinking about this bye ☹️☹️☹️ was gonna do nsfw parts too as i usually do but like i was too up in my feelings LMAOFHBRK trust im gonna post sum nsfw story next 🤞🏻

[leonastarry]

Hiii!! First of all I want to say, I love your Solo Leveling fics, I binge read so many of them after my 3rd reread of the manhwa. You write Jinwoo so well, I love your writing!

I'd like to request a hurt/comfort angst to fluff fic with Jinwoo, where Jinwoo is so busy leveling up before the S rank gate appears he rarely comes home and reader is away on a raid where she gets attacked by one of the monarchs and Jinwoo is late to arrive so she gets very hurt and he loses his mind. She does recover and they have some cute fluffy moments. Would love to see dark Jinwoo.

Thanks! No pressure at all, take all the time you want to write, XD

[ Req 17 ] Unspoken promises. ✧. ┊    s.jinwoo x reader.

The clock on the wall ticked incessantly, filling the stifling silence of the apartment. Jinwoo hadn’t been home in weeks, pouring all his energy into preparing for the S-rank Gate looming on the horizon. He wasn’t avoiding you—at least not intentionally. But the drive to protect everyone had consumed him, and you were left in his absence.

You understood him. How could you not? As an S-rank Hunter, you knew what it meant to shoulder the burden of countless lives. But that didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

So when the call came for an urgent raid, you jumped at the chance. A distraction, something to keep your mind from wandering to the empty space on your bed.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The dungeon was supposed to be normal, something even a mid-ranking guild could handle. But as soon as you entered, you knew something was wrong.

The air was heavy, stifling. The shadows seem alive, moving in ways they shouldn’t. And then you feel it—a presence so overwhelming it makes your blood run cold.

But as the dungeon’s boss room opens, a terrible pressure hits you. It’s suffocating, a presence that stops even the most seasoned hunters in their tracks.

The Frost Monarch and the Plague Monarch stand before you, eyes filled with malicious amusement.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise,” the Plague Monarch growls, her voice dripping with venom. “These humans think they’re gods.”

You instinctively step forward in front of your squad, raising your weapon. “Get out of here,” you command your comrades, your voice firm despite the fear creeping into your heart.

The Monarch attacks without warning, its malice evident. You fight with all you have, but it is relentless, its power far beyond anything you have faced before.

Your comrades fall one by one, their screams echoing through the cave. And then it turns its attention to you.

Pain erupts as its claws tear you apart, and you fall to the ground, blood pooling beneath you. Gritting your teeth, you summon the last of your strength, but it is not enough.

“Jinwoo…” you whisper, your vision fading.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jinwoo felt it the moment your mana flickered. He had always kept a shadowy part of himself connected to you, a silent assurance that you were safe. But now, that connection was weak—almost nonexistent.

He had been on the other side of the country when it happened, but the Shadow Monarch needed no conventional means of transportation. His soldiers opened a portal, and in a moment, he was in the dungeon.

The sight that befell him made his blood run cold.

The battlefield was littered with corpses, the smell of blood thick in the air. And then he saw you, lying motionless, blood staining the ground.

The monarchs were gone, leaving only a few ruins and some of their minions, proof of their presence.

Jinwoo’s vision blurred with anger. His shadow exploded from the ground, a wave of darkness swallowing everything in its path.

Jinwoo was ruthless, his attacks relentless. He did not stop until his enemies were nothing but ashes.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jinwoo carried you out of the dungeon, his grip gentle despite the anger coursing through him. His shadows formed a protective barrier around you, their loyalty unwavering.

He knew that the Monarchs had left on purpose, their retreat a calculated move to avoid facing him. But their cruelty towards you - the person he held dearest - was unforgivable.

In the days that followed, Jinwoo stayed by your side, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a ferocity that confused even the closest shadows.

When you finally woke up, his relief was palpable.

“Jinwoo…” you muttered, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I won’t leave you again. Never.”

His shadow moved behind him, a silent testament to his promise.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Your recovery was slow, but Jinwoo was there for you every step of the way. He refused to leave your side, his guilt showing through his constant care and concern.

He brought you food, fluffed your pillows, and even carried you when you were well enough to move.

“Jinwoo, I’m not made of glass,” you protested one evening as he tucked you in.

“I don’t want to risk it,” he replied, his expression defiant.

Despite his overprotective demeanor, you couldn’t deny how much you appreciated his efforts.

One night, as you lay in bed, Jinwoo sat beside you, his hand intertwined with yours.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked, his eyes softening.

“For being here,” you said. “For caring.”

He leaned down, kissing her forehead gently. “Always,” he whispered.

In that moment, all the pain and fear seemed to melt away, replaced by the warmth of his love.

Hope you like it 💗

[kotoku]

Request for hurt/comfort with the reader comforting Laios. Like maybe someone said something rude to his face, or he's having doubts about saving Falin, or he's just having a moment of feeling extra self-conscious. I just need to HUG THAT MAN

laios x reader - what are friends for

synopsis - laios is having some doubts, but you’re there to support him. after all, what are friends for, dear reader?

pairings - laios touden x reader

warnings - unintentionally left the ending with a little angst.. sorry reader, but it seems you are stuck in the friend zone for now…

word count - 1.2k 

“Laios! I told you that you can’t be embarrassed about these things!”

Marcille scolded the blond tall-man, pointing a stern finger at him with her other hand on her hip.

She was in the process of having Laios execute his healing knowledge. After testing it out on both her and Senshi, she directed him towards you who had a nasty cut on your stomach. Yet before he could chant the incantation, the embarrassment he felt quickly caught up to him and he choked on his words.

“If you say it wrong, who knows what could happen! Try again, and this time, don’t be ashamed because it’s just _____!” She huffed, turning towards the door with Senshi and Chilchuck.

“We’re gonna go see the dungeon rearrange itself, have fun _____!” Chilchuck snickered, shutting the door with a ‘thunk!’. 

Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you refocused your gaze back to Laios whose hands hovered over your stomach. You could tell he was nervous by the slight twitching his hand would do every couple of seconds.

“..You don’t have to heal me if you don’t want to, I can have Marci—“ “No! I can’t just throw away this opportunity, it’ll be a waste! I can do this.”

‘That’s right, I can do this. IcandothisIcandothisIcan—‘ Laois took in a deep inhale before exhaling, readying himself for his second attempt.

Your brows rose in amusement, a smile playing on your lips. “Alright, show me what you’ve got.” Resting your head against the cushion beneath you, you patiently waited for Laios to start.

You heard his breathing even out, falling in rhythm with yours as he started to chant. 

…

“YAOIWWW!!” 

Startled, Laios jumped back, a look of surprise and fear on his face. You, on the other hand, had leaped into a seated position, arms clutching over the injured area. Despite it being healed, that didn’t account for the tremendous amount of pain and itchiness you felt afterward. 

“_____! Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?” Laios rushed to your side, hands frantically waving around in the air as he didn’t know what to do.

“I-I’m fine, just a bit itchy is all…” You grunted, the pain subsiding but the itchiness remaining. You moved to scratch the area before Laios stopped you, his hand gently holding your wrist.

“Marcille said that you should avoid scratching it…” He mumbled, still concerned about your well-being.

“Ah.. ok.” You hummed, retracting your hand even though you so badly wanted to scratch the scar that was left behind. Moving to unwrap the bandage that was around your abdomen, Laios turned away, eyes avoiding you. 

“I-I’ll just look over here…” 

“It’s just my abdomen, Laios. You’re acting like a Victorian man who just saw a lady’s ankle for the first time.” You laughed, bundling the bandage and tucking it away. Slipping on your top, Laios turned back to look at you with a pink flush on his cheeks.

“I’m so not!” 

“You so are.” 

“Am not!”

“Mhm, whatever you say.” With a smug grin, you leaned your head against the wall, listening as the dungeon continued repairing and rearranging itself.

There was a brief silence before Laios keeled over, clutching his stomach in pain as he lay on his side on the floor. 

“L-Laios!? Are you alright?!” You panicked, scurrying over to him. 

“I’m fine.. it’s just that I’m seeing all kinds of colors and shapes… What’s happening to me..?” He groaned, sweat dotting his brow. 

“Oh.. you have mana sickness. You used too much and now—“ you gestured at his state, “—this happened.”

“End me now…”

Huffing a breath, you adjusted him so that he was sitting up. “Don’t be silly, you’ll be fine. You just need to eat something.” Digging through your bag, you found a snack Senshi had packed for you the other day. “Here, eat this.”

Laios sluggishly grabbed the snack from your hand, immediately chewing on it as he leaned against the wall. “Thanks, _____. I’m starting to feel a little bit better already.” “I should be thanking you for healing me.” 

The brief silence from before enveloped the two of you once more, the sound of Laios chewing away at the snack being an exception. You were lost in your own thoughts before Laios sighed, your eyes darting to his slouched form.

“Hey.. _____?” 

“Yes?”

“…Do you think.. we’ll be able to defeat the Mad Mage and turn Falin back..?”

You paused, watching as Laios held his knees close to his chest, his head resting on them. For the first time throughout this entire journey of rescuing Falin, Laios had seemed so small, fragile. You felt your stomach drop, both hesitation and fear gripping onto you with its ugly hands as you tried to speak. Laios was your party leader, if he felt this way then… You shook your head. No, no matter what, you were all going to get his sister back, even if it meant eating monsters, getting your ass beat, or staking your life. Having said that, you knew what you needed to tell him. What he needed to hear. 

“Laios.” You finally spoke after a long drawn silence. His head didn’t move from his spot, eyes glued to the ground. You breathed in a deep inhale before exhaling. “..The path that lies ahead of us is a difficult one, and I can’t say for certain what will happen. None of us can.” His shoulders drooped. “But what I can say for certain, is that no matter what we face, we’ll try our damn hardest to get there.” 

You gave him a determined smile, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “After all, we still need to eat dinner with Falin— and introduce her to Senshi’s cooking again.” Laios smiled at your words, his spirit slowly regaining its flame. 

“You’re right.. thank you, _____.”

“No problem, Laios.” Realizing that you still had your hand placed on his shoulder, you quickly retracted it with flushed cheeks. He was looking at you with such soft and gentle eyes that you couldn’t help but feel warm inside. Then again, whenever you were with Laios, you always felt a little warm or fuzzy. Something about him just made you feel so nervous and vulnerable— as much as you tried denying your feelings for him you knew for a fact that you were falling in deep for your party leader.

As you were trying to regain your composure, you suddenly felt a warmth enveloping you, blond hair tickling your cheek. Strong yet soft arms circled around your shoulders and you felt your efforts go to waste. Laios, the man you had a crush on, was hugging you so tenderly it felt intimate— like a lover’s embrace. You felt the heat rise up to your eyes.

“L-Laios..?”

“I’m so grateful to have you. Thank you for comforting me,” he murmured, hugging you tighter. You slowly reciprocated the hug, closing your eyes as you rested your head on his bicep. 

“Of course,” You hummed, “What are friends for…”

[sorceresssundries]

Peace and Quiet

Pairing: Emmrich Volkarin x gn Rook

Words: 1.3k words

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Angst, Death, Embalming, Dead Body

A/N - Hey, i've had the Big Sads can you tell? Was not sure whether to tag this Hurt/No Comfort or Hurt/Little Comfort - So I went no comfort just to be safe.

Emmrich had not left their side in days.

Rook lay in their favourite place, on their bed, nestled between Emmrich’s legs with their back against his chest. The place they always came back to when the world was too much and they needed to rest.

They were resting now, as Emmrich brushed and played with their hair.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been doing it. Long enough for all the tangles and snarls to have relinquished. Still, he ran the brush through again. And again. Slow, rhythmic, the bristles gliding through the silk of it. His fingers followed, parting it gently, like trailing a hand through cascading water.

He let his nails drag gently against their scalp as he gathered the hair into sections, the way that so many times made them sigh and sag against him until all their thoughts melted away into a dreamy slumber beneath his fingertips. He had never been particularly good at braiding, but they had always indulged his efforts, laughing when his fingers fumbled, teasing him about how someone with his level of dexterity could be so hopeless at something so simple.

He took his time, but the braid still came out uneven.

“Apologies, darling,” he murmured, voice low and fond. “I seem to be all thumbs today.”

He waited for them to tease him in return, to huff some warm, half-hearted remark about his hopelessness.

But nothing came.

Emmrich pressed a kiss to their temple, lingering for just a moment before resting his chin lightly against the crown of their head.

There came a knock at the door, soft and apologetic.

“We’re not quite ready yet,” he called, not loudly.

Silence stretched. There was no second knock, no sound of retreating footsteps. Just the quiet heaviness of someone waiting.

The handle turned, but the lock held.

“Emmrich?”

Harding’s voice, small and careful.

“We’re not ready,” he repeated. Firmer this time.

He heard her sigh, and heard the reluctant scrape of her boots as she stepped away. Good.

Rook had worked so hard until they were so very tired. They deserved peace.

Emmrich exhaled, shaking off the interruption, placing down the brush as he moved on to his next task.

His hands moved with practiced devotion as he slid the first bracelet from his wrist and onto theirs - a thin, rounded band, its gold warmer than it had ever been against Rook’s chilled skin. He followed it with another. And another. Until his arms were bare, and theirs were sleeved in grave-gold.

The rings next.

This was trickier. Their fingers were smaller than his, delicate in a way they had never seemed before. He had to coax what little mana he had left, just enough to shrink the bands so they fit as though they had been theirs from the beginning and Emmrich had merely been borrowing them.

The one with the protective charm. The one with the hidden engraving. The ones he had earned. The ones he had bought. And finally, the one his father had given him.

That one, he hesitated over.

He twisted it between his fingers, stroking his thumb over the gemstone, as he had done countless times before. A habit, a comfort.

It had never been meant for Rook. But now it could belong to no one else.

With certainty, he slid it onto their hand. Onto the finger where a wedding band might one day have rested.

He had no gold left now. His arms and heart were laid bare.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he reassured them, knowing how much they had always fussed when he gave them gifts. “It’s a dowry, is it not? It would have been yours one day anyway.”

With the saddest of sighs, he untangled himself from them, moving as gently as if they might stir at any moment. He eased them back onto the bed, smoothing out the linens beneath them, then carefully folded their hands over their chest. The grave-gold shone brighter and brighter as he moved about the room to replace burned-down candles. Every new flicker bringing the truth into harsher clarity.

Still, they looked perfect, as they always had.

It had not been easy.

He had eschewed some of the traditional magicks used in funerary preparation, choosing instead to prepare their body with his own hands.

It was a ritual he had performed more times than he could count, for more people than he could remember. Some had gone easily, life slipping from them like an exhale - so gently that one might not have known it had left at all. Others had not been so fortunate. Death had taken them forcefully, wrenched them from life with such violence that their remains barely resembled the people they had once been.

It was the one true equaliser. Politicians and paupers, infants and great grandparents. Soldiers, widows, royalty, thieves. The named and the nameless.

He had treated them all the same, and had tried to be just as dutiful with Rook as he had been with the others. He refused the Mourn Watch’s offer to tend to their body, insisting that this be his final privilege.

Rook had lain upon the table where so many had done so before them. Supine, arms at their sides. Positioned with the same practiced care as always, neck tilted to bare their sternum, exposing the pale plane of their chest.

Emmrich had struggled to gather himself.

The last time he had bared their throat this way, it had been to press his lips to it. The last time his fingers had trailed down their sternum, they had followed the rise and fall of their breath beneath him.

Now, it was with a scalpel.

The blade parted the skin his lips had once worshipped. His hands, once so clumsy in their devotion, now moved with practiced precision. The bone-saw whined as it bit through their breastbone. And when he spread their ribcage apart with steady hands, their body lifted - expanding as if they were drawing breath.

A cruel illusion. One that stole what little air remained in his own lungs.

When he reached their heart, his hands trembled. A few treacherous tears slipped free, falling soundlessly into the hollow of their chest.

He held the heart of the person he had loved in his hands, and he pulled himself together. For them.

One by one, he removed their organs, placing them into funerary jars with meticulous care. He embalmed their arteries and cavities, ensuring every vessel, every chamber was preserved. When it came time to stitch them back together, he did not use magic. Only his hands. Only thread and patience and love.

He filled in every wound. Reconstructed every sunken feature.

He had the knowledge, the skill, the devotion of someone who had memorised every inch of them, and he used it to ensure they looked as though they were merely sleeping.

It took a long time.

By the end, his own skin had paled from the enchanted cold of the room. His fingers were stiff, his breath shallow.

But Rook was perfect.

And so, he had brought them back to their bed, so he could braid their hair and give his final gifts before they slept forever in the tomb he was supposed to inhabit first.

Once, the thought of it had unsettled him - that place where his name was already etched. He had feared it. Had spent a lifetime trying to outrun it.

Now, it was a comfort. Rook would be there. And he would once again lay beside them in a shared sarcophagus. The bones of him touching the bones of them.

The rings he had given them would slip from fleshless fingers, scattering into the dust to line the bottom of their eternal bed.

How foolish he had been to fear death. To crave something as cheap as immortality. The only eternity he now sought lay beyond the Veil, with the one whose heart he had held in his hands, and who had held his in return.

Another knock came at the door, more insistent this time.

“Yes,” he spoke, through his tears. “We’re ready now.”

[creads]

⭐️ forgive me father. fem!reader x enzo vogrincic

🪐 minha masterlist

» cw: smut! por favor só interaja se for +18! ; enzo!padre; infidelidade; angst + catholic gilt; fingering; masturb masculina + fem; sexo desprotegido; p in v; creampie; sexo num altar e na igreja (ops); nuances de strenght kink; enzo e leitora virgens então perda de virgindade.

» wn: omg debut solo do enzo nesse blog aqui!! e enzo!padre😯 pois é manas, call me camila creads fleabag da silva! pensei nessa ideia e depois de uma conversa com a minha querida amiga @lunitt decidi canetar!! gostaria de dizer que se alguém se sentir ofendida com esse tema religioso + culpa católica + pecados + sexo na igreja e com um fucking padre etc por favor não leia se não se sentir confortável com isso! apesar de isso se tratar de uma ficção, o tema abordado é um padre quebrando o celibato e se apaixonando, entawnnn essa é toda a trama desse one shot… mas enfim, não vou mentir, eu si diverti demais escrevendo essa 😛 espero que vocês gostem! 💞💐✨

—————————————————————————

enzo!padre que tomou a decisão se ser devoto a religião ainda muito jovem. vindo de uma família religiosa, sempre soube a importância da fé e como seguir uma vida sagrada era um ato extremamente nobre. por mais que existissem as dificuldades, era feliz com sua decisão de ter se tornado padre, levava uma vida amena: todos os dias realizava missas e depois delas tinha a oportunidade de falar com os habitantes simpáticos da cidade pequena, foi assim que se tornou o padre favorito de várias senhorinhas, as quais em segredo sempre comentavam entre si o quão raro era ver um homem tão bonito quanto ele ser devoto apenas a sua fé.

enzo!padre que já estava acostumado com o carinho vindo das senhorinhas, tanto que reconhecia até a voz trêmula de cada idosinha na hora da confissão, conseguia identificar quem era quem apesar da madeira que separava as cabines e o impossibilitava de ver o rosto das fiéis. por isso estranhou tanto quando ouviu sua voz jovem do outro lado dizendo “Abençoa-me, Pai, porque pequei”.

enzo!padre que se esforçou para prosseguir com a confissão da mesma forma que sempre fazia, disfarçando o quando sua voz o afetou. procurou focar no que você dizia, prestando atenção em cada detalhe da história que você contava: que tinha se mudado recentemente para a cidadezinha da sua avó porque o filho de um homem importante tinha se interessado em ti, fazendo com que - de acordo com a sua família - a opção de negar o casamento nem existisse, e que talvez estivesse se precipitando pois tinha conhecido o garoto há apenas um mês, mas mesmo assim não enxergava se apaixonar por ele como algo possível.

enzo!padre que nunca tinha sentido esse frio na barriga por causa de alguém, e de forma alguma sabia como lidar com esse sentimento, não sabia o que fazer para desacelerar os batimentos quando você suspirava ou falava algo ainda mais meiga, com a voz trêmula e cheia de culpa. pior ainda quando decidiu se render aos olhos que queriam passear pela parede levemente transparente que separava vocês dois, observando com dificuldade o contorno do seu vestido branco e não conseguindo identificar se suas unhas estavam pintadas de rosa ou vermelho, mas conseguia ver perfeitamente seus dedinhos agitados que se moviam cada vez que falava, ou as palmas suadas deslizando pelo vestido curto.

enzo!padre que antes de dormir rezou uma, duas, três vezes, pedindo perdão por pela primeira vez na vida sentir tanta necessidade carnal, totalmente indevida para a sua carreira. se remexia na cama, a cabeça doía e o membro rígido entre suas pernas o incomodava mais ainda. se levantou para beber uma água, lavar o rosto, até decidiu fazer um chá enquanto perambulava pela cozinha, e enquanto a água fervia rezava com o terço em mãos, pedindo perdão e ajuda.

enzo!padre que, no dia seguinte, quase engasgou com a própria saliva quando novamente ouviu sua voz do outro lado da parede do confessionário. ainda com a cabeça ruim devido à noite mal dormida, passou as mãos nos olhos, mentalmente dizendo a Deus que já tinha entendido o recado, suplicando para Ele não puní-lo dessa forma.

enzo!padre que tinha que espantar os pensamentos intrusivos quando você repetia que não queria se casar com o ‘garoto de ouro’, pensando como você seria feliz em ser dele. desviava o olhar quando era atraído pelas suas mãos inquietas, e se repreendia quando pensava o quão macia seria a sensação delas passeando pela pele morena e intocada. pior ainda quando os olhos paravam na barra do seu vestido - dessa vez um tom de azul pastel - e o quanto um simples pedaço de tecido o causava tanta vontade de se enfiar por baixo dele, beijando o joelho exposto até a calcinha, imagem que ele inevitavelmente tinha criado na mente.

enzo!padre que te impediu de falar informações que entregariam a ele sua identidade, dizendo que as confissões sempre deveriam permanecer anônimas. apesar de ser verdade, o real motivo era que enzo já se sentia enlouquecido apenas com a imagem das suas mãos e o som da sua voz, tinha medo do que poderia acontecer com sua saúde mental se descobrisse seu nome, seu rosto, seu corpo.

enzo!padre que, nessa noite, ficou horas encarando o teto, recitando todas as orações que conhecia no quarto escuro para espantar os pensamentos sujos que vinham na cabeça. não acostumado com a sensação incômoda de ter uma ereção, lentamente desceu uma das mãos grandes pelo torso até chegar no membro duro coberto pela calça de pijama. sua intenção era de apenas aplicar uma pressão na região quente para aliviar a dor, mas o resultado foi completamente o oposto: os lábios inevitavelmente se partiram e puxaram um ar falhado. ainda por cima da calça, a mão deslizou pelo comprimento aplicando pressão e a mente foi diretamente a você: sua voz dizendo o nome dele ecoava dentro da cabeça, fazendo com que ele franzisse o cenho e apertasse ainda mais o membro que acabou de pulsar com a lembrança.

enzo!padre que não teve nem coragem de enfiar a mão por baixo do tecido, se ele não tocasse de fato no pau que com apenas com alguns minutos de estímulos liberou o líquido espesso e branquinho, talvez tudo isso seria menos pior, uma tentativa de burlar o pecado. depois de ter se esvaziado e ter feito uma bagunça na sua calça de pijama favorita, permaneceu de olhos fechados enquanto o peito subia e descia rapidamente.

enzo!padre que no dia seguinte anunciou na missa que o confessionário estaria suspenso por uma semana, com uma justificativa esparramada de que estaria atarefado com um projeto católico pessoal. sentiu até o peito pesar quando observou que as velhinhas se entreolharam e diziam “awn”, mencionando como ele era dedicado e um homem íntegro, quando o motivo verdadeiro era incrivelmente sujo, algo que elas nunca nem cogitariam que o padre enzo vogrincic pensaria.

enzo!padre que sentia como se estivesse no inferno durante essa semana, todas as noites acordando de madrugada depois de sonhar contigo: imaginando sua voz gemendo o nome dele, enquanto visualizava perfeitamente suas mãos ao redor do membro grosso.

enzo!padre que sentiu o coração parar de bater no dia que a velhinha, o filho do prefeito e a menina bonita sentaram no primeiro banco durante a missa, permitindo com que ele percebesse que a jovem tinha as mãos iguais a sua, também que o vestido era muito semelhante aos que você tinha usado durante as confissões, a forma que ela também mexia com os dedos - agora no anelar que tinha um anel de noivado - e parecia aflita, mordiscando os lábios ao vê-lo passear pelo altar. não, não podia ser… enzo pedia à Deus que não fosse você, rezava para que você fosse a mulher mais feia daquela igreja, não justamente o contrário.

enzo!padre que no final dessa missa, seguiu a moça bonita com o olhar enquanto criava justificativas e teorias para que você não fosse você. mas para a sua infelicidade, enquanto cumprimentava os fiéis na porta da igreja, sentiu os joelhos falharem quando ouviu a mesma voz doce que o assombrava desde a primeira vez que a escutou quando você disse “Paz de cristo, padre”. sua expressão era de quem tinha acabado de ver um fantasma, mas ainda bem que o seu noivo - alguns diriam extrovertido, outros metido - tomou a liberdade de o convidar para a festa que aconteceria na praça hoje à noite e falar que ele abençoasse e oficializasse seu casamento, fazendo enzo sentir um nó se formar na barriga, um sentimento novo para ele, que não conseguiu identificar que era inveja.

enzo!padre que demorou mais tempo do que deveria no banho, não fazendo as coisas sujas que o corpo desesperadamente necessitava ao pensar em você, e sim refletindo se realmente valia a pena abandonar todos seus princípios por alguém. mas porra, cada vez que pensava no fato de que você ficaria presa com esse homem para o resto da vida, quando ele poderia te oferecer tanto mais, poderia te fazer se apaixonar de fato por ele, poderia aprender como te satisfazer da maneira que você quer, da maneira que você merece. pensava se sua fé ainda estava intacta depois de você se tornar a maior devoção de enzo. não conseguia parar de pensar na forma como você o olhou, como o nome dele escapava dos seus lábios tão facilmente. a voz ecoava na mente já nublada de desejo, principalmente agora, que suas mãos inevitavelmente desceram até a ereção que palpitava toda vez que a imagem do seu rosto se contorcendo de prazer invadia a mente dele, decidindo se entregar ao pecado dessa vez, só dessa vez.

enzo!padre que decidiu não comparecer à festa da cidade que aconteceria essa noite, afinal, seria uma má ideia ir para o lugar que você estaria. por isso, depois do banho, foi em direção a igreja vazia e escura para acender uma vela enquanto tomava um chá, mas estranhou muito quando ouviu um barulho de uma mulher chorando. “olá?”, ele perguntou e ouviu a própria voz ecoar, pensou até que fosse mais uma peça que a sua mente estava pregando nele quando não obteve uma resposta e o choro baixinho não foi interrompido, mas depois de forçar um pouco a vista, percebeu que era você. sentada em um dos bancos centrais da igreja, acompanhava calada o homem que caminhava até ti, fungando e secando as lágrimas com um lencinho de pano.

enzo!padre que se sentou ao seu lado, por mais que você fosse a única coisa que o desviasse do caminho sagrado, não conseguia te ver nesse estado e não fazer nada. “desculpa, padre… eu achei que você não estaria acordado essas horas e… imaginei que vir aqui e rezar um pouco me faria bem…”, você disse entre soluços, o que fez enzo responder, “tá tudo bem… tem alguma coisa que eu possa fazer para te ajudar?”. você balançou um ‘não’ com a cabeça em resposta, ainda fungando o nariz e com os olhos molhados de lágrimas enquanto encarava o próprio colo. enzo se aproveitou da ausência da parede entre vocês para te observar atentamente: seu cenho franzido, como o peito subia e descia mais rápido que o normal, como você puxava as pelinhas no canto da unha, e mais rápido do que ele pudesse reagir, como tomou as mãos dele nas suas e pediu “ora comigo, padre? por favor…”

enzo!padre que rezou um ave maria contigo, e - por mais que estivesse atento demais na forma que o seu toque praticamente queimava a pele dele - quando você começou a chorar novamente antes mesmo da prece terminar, envolveu o braço ao redor do seu torso e sentiu o coração bater mais rápido quando você encostou seu rosto na curva do ombro dele. “shh… tá tudo bem…”, ele te confortava enquanto a mão grande fazia um carinho gentil no seu braço. “padre… eu preciso confessar…”, você sussurrou, tão baixinho que ele quase não escutou.

enzo!padre que quase desmaiou quando ouviu você dizer “ontem à noite… o meu noivo ficou até tarde em uma reunião, e eu me senti tão sozinha na cama, eu… pensei em alguém… e… me toquei… e eu sei, eu sei que é pecado… mas… foi tão…”. ele permaneceu completamente estático, não sabia o que dizer, principalmente quando você revelou que estava na mesma situação que ele: “eu sei que eu não deveria ter feito isso… e eu sei que a minha vida sexual só deve ser iniciada depois do casamento, mas… foi mais forte que eu… e agora, apesar de me sentir culpada, eu não consigo parar de pensar como foi… bom…”, você dizia em uma voz baixinha, com vergonha do que estava revelando.

enzo!padre que, por mais que soubesse que isso já passaria dos limites que a religião impõe, não segurou o pedido que saiu dos próprios lábios após alguns segundos de silêncio: “me mostra”. e quando você o olhou hesitante, ele segurou sua mão, te permitindo sentir a palma fria e suada, identificando que ele estava tão nervoso quanto você. as mãos entrelaçadas que estavam na altura dos peitos que subiam e desciam rapidamente desceram até o seu joelho exposto, e lentamente subiram até a pele da sua coxa que não estava coberta pelo vestido.

enzo!padre que encostou a testa na tua, e sussurrou “por favor…” depois de perceber que você estava ofegante que nem ele. você desentrelaçou os seus dedos nos dele, e ambos pensaram como esse era o momento perfeito de se levantar e ir embora, seria difícil fingir que nada aconteceu mas não seria pior do que pecar dentro da igreja. mas ambos estavam estáticos, não queriam deixar de sentir o ar que o outro liberava tão perto do próprio rosto, e muito menos deixar de fazer o que o corpo ansiou por tantas noites, então você segurou o pulso do homem e o guiou até a sua calcinha, fazendo com que os dois suspirassem ao sentir a mão grande encostando no tecido encharcado. ele inevitavelmente aplicou uma pressão por cima da calcinha branca, resultando em vocês dois exalando um ar entre os lábios em um formato perfeito de ‘o’ e, logo após, você movendo os dedos dele até o cós da peça íntima, permitindo que os dígitos explorassem as suas dobrinhas, a igreja estava tão quieta que era possível escutar apenas o barulhinho molhado e as respirações ofegantes.

enzo!padre que tomou a liberdade de fazer círculos com os quatro dedos que estavam dentro da calcinha - apenas o polegar estava para fora do tecido - e passavam pelo seu clitóris e perto da sua entradinha que já pulsava. “era assim… isso…”, você afirmava, o dizendo que o que ele fazia era exatamente o que você tinha feito. “enzo…”, ao gemer o nome dele, enzo voltou a realidade: percebeu que o que estava fazendo era completamente errado, mas, porra… o jeito que você gemia o nome dele, o jeito que seus olhos estavam cheinhos de lágrimas e desejo, o jeito que seus lábios estavam entrepartidos e mesmo assim segurava os gemidos, soltando um ar pesado pela boca. ele não conseguia parar, muito menos resistir, selou os lábios no seu. as línguas se esbarravam lentamente, sem nenhuma sincronização pois ambos já estavam perdidos demais no prazer, principalmente quando suas mãos pararam na coxa dele em um impulso, sentia que estavam perto demais de um orgasmo, “enzo… eu…”. “em quem… você pensou?”, ele te interrompeu, ofegante, fazendo você jogar a cabeça para trás ao ouvir a pergunta e apertar a coxa dele, perigosamente perto da virilha.

enzo!padre que quando ouviu você dizer “você… nisso… eu pensei nisso…” ofegante, não conseguiu controlar a resposta que o corpo deu. principalmente ao sentir você apertar a coxa dele mais forte para conter um gemido enquanto gozava, ele não teve outra opção a não ser se juntar a você, que de olhos fechados e com a cabeça para trás escutou um gemido falho e ofegante sair dos lábios do moreno, o qual apenas fechou os olhos que estavam fixados no seu rosto para se entregar completamente ao ápice de prazer que também se encontrava. enquanto você se acalmava do orgasmo, recuperou seus sentidos e conseguiu sentir a mancha melada que tinha se formado no tecido da túnica preta que ele usava. novamente, ambos estavam estáticos, ainda mais agora que o estrago já estava feito. mas dessa vez, antes que você pudesse falar qualquer coisa, enzo se levantou abruptamente e caminhou até seu aposento enquanto dizia “não volte mais aqui”. seus olhos seguiram a figura do homem que fechou a porta com tanta força que o barulho ecoou pela igreja escura e vazia, te deixando sozinha ali no banco, ainda incrédula com o que acabou de acontecer.

enzo!padre que, no dia seguinte, se sentia fora de si durante a missa. principalmente quando percebeu que você não estava ali, apenas seu noivo, o qual disse que a festa ontem à noite foi excelente, que ele deveria ter ido, e disse que sua futura esposa também não compareceu porque estava um pouco febril, mesmo motivo de não ter comparecido hoje de manhã. a resposta de enzo foi cheia de culpa, gaguejou ao dizer que iria orar por ela, algo que acabou passando despercebido pelo homem que não tinha a mínima ideia do que realmente se passou ontem à noite.

» oiee jah podi quebrar a quarta parede? 😛 só pra falar pra darem o play nessa música aqui pra ler esses próximos parágrafos 💞💐

enzo!padre que, essa noite, decidiu ignorar a ansiedade que sentia ao pisar na igreja escura, acendeu uma vela e logo após se ajoelhou em frente a escadinha em frente ao altar, rezando e pedindo perdão por ter desviado do caminho sagrado. enquanto orava, escutou um barulho de passos de saltinho. quanto mais alto o som, mais ele temia de ser quem ele desejava que fosse. quando ele percebeu que o barulho se cessou, hesitou em virar o olhar só acima do ombro, e quando fez isso, se deparou com sua figura parada no corredor entre os bancos, ainda distante dele. “não”, ele disse, ainda com os olhos em ti. “por favor…”, você suplicou, retomando a caminhada até o homem, o qual protestou novamente enquanto se levantava: “não”. “por favor…”, ele ao ouvir a súplica sair dos seus lábios novamente segurou a cruz do terço que tinha em mãos e o apontou para ti, “NÃO!”.

enzo!padre que queria correr de você como o diabo corria da cruz quando percebeu que você não se afastou, pelo contrário: se aproximou mais ainda, o olhando com o cenho franzido enquanto desfazia o laço do sobretudo que usava, finalmente expondo o vestido preto curto que vestia. mas enzo não conseguia se mover, por mais que os músculos do braço que erguiam a cruz falharam ao ver como a luz do luar que entrava pela janela da igreja te iluminava perfeitamente: realçando seu rosto e olhar repletos de desejo e como o vestido delineava as suas curvas. seus dedos subiram até o símbolo que te repreendia, segurou a mão que o terço envolvia e a guiou lentamente até o espaço entre seus seios, fazendo ele sentir como seu coração batia rápido. ele te encarava, a boca já estava seca e os pelos arrepiados só de estar na sua presença, principalmente agora em que os corpos estavam separados por apenas alguns centímetros de distância, mas não ousou em retirar a mão dali. você se aproximou mais do rosto do moreno, que agora tinha o cenho franzido que nem o seu e os lábios entreabertos numa tentativa de puxar mais ar para os pulmões, os narizes se encostaram quando você suplicou pela última vez: “por favor, padre…”.

enzo!padre que não conseguia pensar em nada mais além de você, e, por isso, selou os lábios nos seus de uma forma urgente, agressiva, até. as mãos grandes te puxavam para mais perto e simultaneamente apalpavam sua carne, te fazendo arfar dentro da boca do moreno enquanto as suas subiam até o os fios escuros e puxaram eles levemente. o beijo era desesperado, enzo desceu as palmas até a barra do seu vestido e segurou, puxando o tecido para cima e te deixando despida. ele tinha interrompido o beijo para que o vestido pudesse passar pela sua cabeça com facilidade, e antes que pudesse retomar, percebeu que você usava apenas uma calcinha e que seus seios estavam expostos, com os mamilos eriçados devido a brisa gelada que se chocou contra a pele pelando. os olhos passeavam pelo corpo que ele já tinha sonhado tantas vezes, hipnotizado como a realidade era melhor que qualquer produto do seu subconsciente, principalmente com você respirando ofegante que nem ele. você soltou um gemido falhado e ofegando quando enzo começou a beijar seu pescoço enquanto as mãos grandes passeavam pelas suas costas, e quanto mais os lábios desciam até seu colo, e depois para seus seios, as mãos também desciam até sua bunda e apertavam ela, com uma força que ele não tinha condições de medir agora.

enzo!padre que nem precisou te avisar para pular no colo dele quando te levantou do chão, você envolveu as pernas ao redor do quadril dele enquanto ele subia pelas escadinhas da plataforma que ele tanto profetizou as palavras da bíblia, caminhando até o altar enquanto os lábios não deixavam os seus e as palmas não deixavam de apertar suas coxas e sua bunda. ele te sentou na mesa e interrompeu o beijo para que pudessem respirar, mantendo o nariz encostado no teu. as mãos grandes subiram até seus seios e apertaram a carne macia, te fazendo arfar e chegar os quadris para frente, desesperada por qualquer estímulo. suas mãos desceram até a ereção do homem que voltou a te beijar desesperadamente, apertando levemente o membro e sussurrando contra os lábios dele dizendo “por favor…”, fazendo com que ele gemesse com os dentes cerrados e logo após enfiasse os dígitos dentro da sua calcinha, gemendo ao sentir o quão molhada você estava. ele tomou a liberdade de enfiar um dedo na sua entradinha apertada, a sensação nova com certeza doeria se você não estivesse completamente encharcada, mas mesmo assim você enfiou o rosto na curva do pescoço do moreno e deixou uma mordida ali para abafar um gemido, arrancando um dele.

enzo!padre que desesperadamente precisava estar dentro de ti, então quando você lambeu o pescoço dele até chegar ao lóbulo e gemeu “eu preciso… de você… por favor…”, retirou o dedo de dentro da sua entradinha e começou a levantar a bata que usava até os quadris, na altura suficiente apenas para liberar a ereção que doía, a outra mão se encarregava de retirar sua calcinha e jogá-la em um canto qualquer. as mãos grandes pararam na lateral do seu rosto, segurando firmemente enquanto te beijava de forma bagunçada, as línguas se esbarravam e vibravam quando gemiam um na boca do outro, enquanto a cabecinha suja de pré gozo deslizava livremente na parte interna da sua coxa, já molhada da sua própria excitação. você tomou liberdade de segurar o membro grosso que pulsava e guia-lo até sua buceta, esfregando a glande no buraquinho que queria engolir todo o comprimento logo, fazendo com que uma das mãos grandes de enzo parassem na sua nuca e apertassem ali, enquanto vocês gemiam com a sensação inédita.

enzo!padre que deixou você tomá-lo no seu tempo, o puxando pela bunda para que ele se enfiasse todo dentro de ti. e quando você afastou ele só para o puxar para mais perto de novo, instruindo ele a te fuder, os braços fortes cobertos pelas mangas pretas da vestimenta envolveram seu torso, enquanto a outra mão segurava sua nuca para que você não tirasse seus olhos do dele, que te encaravam os seus com desejo - algo que não se atreveria a fazer mesmo se ele não quisesse. as suas mãos puxavam o cabelo escuro a medida que ele saia e entrava em ti, a dor que sentiu por alguns instantes se transformou completamente em prazer, arrancando gemidos manhosos de você e que ficavam mais altos a cada barulho grave que saia da boca que beijava seu pescoço, seu queixo, sua bochecha e sua boca de forma desordenada. você envolveu suas pernas ao redor do quadril de enzo, os quais faziam movimentos cada vez mais desordenados, ele também fala frases sem conexão entre os gemidos, fazendo você segurar o rosto dele e colar sua testa na dele, novamente fazendo um contato visual enquanto ambos gemiam com cada estocada.

enzo!padre que voltou a te beijar quando sentiu que estava prestes a transbordar dentro de ti, soltando um ar pesado pelo nariz enquanto a língua envolvia a sua e se esvaziava dentro da buceta que pulsava ao redor do membro sensível. os braços de enzo te abraçavam com força enquanto a virilha dele ainda encostava e desencostava na sua, dessa vez mais lentamente, fodendo mais fundo a porra que ele tinha acabado de deixar no seu interior, o beijo também desacelerou para que vocês pudessem se recuperar do quão intenso tudo isso tinha acabado de ser.

enzo!padre que percebeu que, agora, a sua única devoção era você, que o único altar que ele queria louvar todos os dias era seu corpo. então, antes mesmo de sair de dentro de ti, disse ofegante “foge comigo”. seu rosto expressava hesitação, mas a forma que seu coração bateu mais forte ao pensar como seria viver com enzo te confirmou que era isso que você queria. “mas… como a gente vai fazer isso?”. “eu não sei… eu só sei que eu quero ficar com você pra sempre”.

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» wn2: gente infelizmente eu pensei em uma coisa aqui e preciso plantar essa sementinha na mente de vocês: E SE ele ficou completamente biluteteio das ideias e tudo isso só aconteceu na cabeça dele. makes u think fr 🚬 (no caso eu escrevi tudo isso pensando que aconteceu mesmo tá bem mas achei esse pensamento legal e quis compartilhar, MAS E AÍ GOSTARAMMM?!! ficou bem grandinho né mas oh well camila yapper = fork found in kitchen 😛☝🏻