#“don't read schemes into it”

[dmagedgoods]

Imagine the father you hate sends you a talking sex toy

It may be born from expecting some cunning and twisted games from devils (where is the fun, otherwise?), but to merely take Raphael's and Haarlep's relationship the very way it's presented without further thought appears like signing the line without reading the words to me. What they do there clearly has layers. Raphael is smart, he has to be for those contracts, the manipulations, and his little ambitious plan. Furthermore, it's essential for him to stay careful. He, more than anyone, should know not to trust Haarlep. And he most certainly is highly aware. Imagine you want to surpass your fiendish father and he gifts you a toy incubus. What would you do with them? I, at least, know what I would not do with this gift: Order it to take the form(s) of those I most desire (or, worse, cherish to a point) or even fuck it. Now, Raphael is a devil (with a strong human side, fight me, but still a devil): of course, he fucks Haarlep anyway and maybe not to appear ungrateful too (after all, you want Daddy to think you appreciate his gift or at least paint the surface-level impression of it). But he only fucks Haarlep in quite a special way, does he not? - In the one and only way that gives nothing away about him. Or at least it gives nothing away about him that his father (and anyone, really) doesn't already know (or is supposed to know): That Raphael has a very high opinion of himself. Maybe it's even an abstract little joke. I, for my part, see some dry humor in it: His daddy sends this shapeshifting, form stealing incubus spy to get some information on how to pressure his son, should it become a necessity. But all he gets from said incubus spy is the statement that his son only ever fucks himself. "Raphael only loves Raphael." That definitely is what I would want my incubus sex toy to report back to my detested father. (If I was a devil, mind you.) Now Raphael doesn't put that much effort into the act, it seems, but that's not truly necessary after all and only serves him further: I don't think he fancies Haarlep gossiping about his actual sexual preferences with Mephistopheles either. Ah, now maybe Haarlep and Raphael despise each other or maybe they developed a fondness for each other, I can picture both, but it stays true that Raphael doesn't seem like the kind of man who would willingly allow someone to gain an advantage over him by allowing personal information to spread to those he's determined to outsmart. Of course, I guess, it's also a possibility that this 1000+-years-old cambion truly only ever lazily bottoms for his father's incubus toy and only ever while it looks (more or less) like himself because that's all he wants in this regard. Maybe devils are immune to boredom. I, for my part, strongly assume it's a game with daddy dearest.

[hinamie]

"I'll show you every day that choosing to live was worth it"

some of my favourite scenes from @hijinks-n-lowjinks' fic things i would miss from the other side . this fic tore my heart out fr but like in a good way and i wanted to pay it homage the only way i know how <3

[mumblesplash]

part 2!!!! [read part one here]

transcript below the cut arranged into stanzas to help show where the rhymes are:

“that’s why they brought gem in? as a failsafe?” as a pawn. we were told to point her at whoever we need gone

“gem won’t hurt her allies. …yet.” the curse she carries will it’s had its eye on her since she lost the other eye she was specially selected for her hunting skill it’s quite the high honor. “wow. how generous.” we try

think about it: why does almost no one fight the curse? “given how fast scott killed skizz last season, i can guess.” [“any pain you spare your friends, you’ll have to suffer worse”?] it’s designed to shut down higher reasoning with stress

[ridrawsart]

Always your sword, my umbral sovereign.

[fromtheseventhhell]

"It's normal for siblings to fight" Okay well it's not normal to be extremely classist and look down on your sister for being non-conforming. Or to go to the woman who ordered the death of your pet to tell her about your father's plans, when he specifically warned you against doing so, because you want to marry the boy you saw attack your sister and her friend (contributing partially to said father's death and your sister being unable to escape on the ship he chartered). Or to think of your sibling as unsatisfactory in comparison to another when you believe her to be dead. I notice that none of the "Sansa and Arya are going to reunite and instantly have no issues" crowd ever acknowledge any of this, which makes it seem like they don't actually believe what they say about their relationship being normal and easily reconciled. People wanting them to have no issues simply because they're siblings is another example of how fandom likes to flatten complex characters and relationships. They get reduced to being bickering siblings when their conflict runs deeper than that. If the author is telling you that they have "deep issues" to work out [X], I don't understand being so adamant about ignoring said issues. I also get the sense it's about ignoring the capacity for a certain character to be flawed, but that isn't going to change the fact that her "slip of the tongue" is very likely to be revealed and a source of further conflict 🤷🏾‍♀️

[lily-lilou]

Aaravos and his grand plan

Hi everyone, it's my yearly apparition on Tumblr after s6 finally being released. Hope you're all doing okay since last time I was here :D

Hehe! (... sorry I only ever come here every 7th tuesday of the month T.T)

So! Guess you'll have noticed our dear Startouch never actually said anything about his "new purpose" after that trial and its ghastly conclusion, and I'll also guess you (like Terry) can already say it's not something pleasant.

I mean, we all knew, to some extent, that he had to do what he was doing for a "good" reason. I think I remember saying (ages ago >_>’’’) that if he really wanted power, he could have taken it or something. Or more likely that it was uselesss because he already had that power : he was respected, powerful, practically a god amongst mortal.

Now we know why:

First, we have a motive, the cutest little bean ever :

(the art guys! The ART!!! Leola bring adorableness to new hight and Aaravos is such a dad and it hurts my poor heart u_u)

(also, I'll totally admit I had many ideas but I really didn't see that one coming. I should have, this IS a story about relationships, especially between parents and children)

Second : he acted the way he did, only moving from the shadows, always pushing others to do what he wanted, very probably to avoid triggering the eyes of the cosmic order. They're all about seeing the grand scheme of things, the general picture (Callum's book and also their arguments during Leola's trial are proof of it). Aaravos more than anyone would know their flaws, especially them missing tiny little details.

Anyway! We can guess that whatever happened with Luna Tenebris, Queen Aditi, Sol Regem and a lot of other people was either for vengeance, or, at the very least, a way to remove potential obstacle in said vengeance. And I'm impressed with his way of killing two birds with one stone, like we saw with Sol Regem : Aaravos made him kill his own mate, allowing him to avoid being noticed/reprimanded by the cosmic order by interfering, AND ensuring a hard vengeance on the archdragon (because losing someone you love is hard, learning you killed them yourself is worse).

(We'll have a minute of silence for Mr Witness and the hell of a price he paid for what he did... and we'll remove at least 50 seconds because I had HOPE for him, when he refused the Sun Seed to heal his eyes… and then he went about healing his wings and I thought “Just go die already!” And guess what? He did!)

But now, what about his "new purpose"? His Grand Plan?

Ooooh, nothing, really...

...

Well, guys... everything is the title.

I mean, the title's panel!

What?

We learned with the last episode that, apparently, stars can fall, nah?

And in our dear picture above, we have a LOT of stars falling, don't you think so?

[moregraceful]

It feels like getting pulled underwater—the sharp sideways tug, the slight drag of resistance, then falling, falling, till the waves close over his head. But Logan can breathe when he rights himself again, even if the light has a watery filter to it and the voices have a distant echo. // Sometimes Logan gets a glimpse of guys who've been long gone from the teal, clustered at the far end of the bench or sitting in the box across the ice. He heard Jason's voice in the hallway loud and clear, that infectious laugh. And he could have sworn he saw Raffi fucking Torres getting out of a car in the players' lot. Something tells him not to look up the rosters.

Commissioned @impmakesart to make a painting based on the Sharks' Cali Fin hype reel + the flip side by frausorge. Imp was amazing to work with and I could not be more emotional about this piece and so, so pleased with how it turned out!! 🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️ Commission him here. Thank you Imp!

[jihef03]

Reformed private detective Riddler is like my favored Riddler's arc tbh

[dylanlila]

it's cool that you think l'amica geniale isn't actually about friendship. you can go fuck yourself

[sysig]

Hey, hey! RnR not requested! (Patreon)

[ship-colour-scheme-showdown]

Ship Colour Scheme Showdown Round 0.5 Match 22

Speculation about ships is welcome, but please do not reveal the identities of ships you submitted!

[drakon-star]

i'm only a beginner at photoshop but i thought it'd be fun to make a movie poster for a movie that definitely doesn't exist

instagram | my website

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[stellarsightz]

🌠wip whenever🌠

Tagged by the lovely @priafey 🫶 thank you for the tag and sorry for replying so late hahah

I think my cicerlyn hyperfixation is starting to leave me, but i keep thinking about them all the time lol. Enjoy a handful of snippets i particularly like that i found in my notes app

Tagging: @azures-grace @cicerosfavouritelistener @abstractredd @vestigme @rustyram035 @v1ctory-or-sovngarde + anyone who wants to join <333

1a.

Fire and smoke. Long wooden beams snapped in half, crumbling to the ground. Lynwallyn gritted his teeth and dragged himself up, fighting off the sweet lull of unconsciousness as it threatened to claim him. He couldn't afford to pause.

He dragged himself out of the rubble, barely stopping to inspect his injuries. He wrenched a sword out of the nearest corpse. He snagged a pile of clothes he found in what he assumed were the barracks. He took anything his bruised and charred arms could carry. He left and didn't look back.

Days blurred. He found an abandoned shack in the middle of a forest. He used the bedroll, took everything he could and left.

Rinse and repeat.

He slept through most of the day. At night, he prowled the forest and searched for unsuspecting prey. He let himself get lost in the hunt, savouring the feeling of warm blood running down his hands. A few stray dogs tailed after him as he walked back to his camp, licking their teeth and eyeing the mangled corpse of the poor animal he just caught. He snarled at them and watched with satisfaction as they whimpered and scuttled away.

He took what remained of his meal to his hideout and skinned it, slicing it into smaller parts and making what passed as a meal for the next day.

He was gone as soon as the sun rose. He soon found a small village, River something. He sold the few pelts he got from the animals he caught. He ignored the curious, if not apprehensive, looks the locals cast his way.

He exchanged the stolen sword for a set of daggers at the local blacksmith, humming appreciatively as their familiar, comforting weight settled in his hands. His last stop was the general goods store where he purchased a single healing potion and some rations. He left without a word.

[Lynwallyn travels for a while]

1b.

Cicero whined for what must have been the fiftieth time, fists clenching and unclenching as he paced.

It wasn't fair! The cruel, awful farmer refused to help in spite of Cicero's pleading and begging. Oh yes, he had done lots and lots of pleading and begging, he had even offered coin! He had seen that look in the farmer's eyes when he produced his purse, gleaming and scheming. Trying not to show just how much he wanted to reach out and snatch it. And yet, he refused to even lift a finger. Anger coiled in Cicero's stomach, burning so bright it made his hands shake. He let out a strangled groan.

"Awful! How awful! Cicero and his poor, poor Mother are stuck! Oh, how will Mother get to her new home now?"

He spun on his heel, shaking a fist in the direction of where Loreius' house stood.  "That damn farmer is of no help! So are those stupid guards!"

1c.

The Mer stared at him with a strange expression. His brow creased, eyes flitting over Cicero's face. "You could have killed me. But you didn't. Why?"

Why didn't he indeed, Cicero pondered. He remembered his fingers tingling as he reached for his knives, but something stilled his hand. He still has no idea why.

"Cicero is just a poor, humble jester, he knew a beast such as you would look for something different to eat. Yes, yes, Cicero imagines he would not be very tasty," he lied smoothly, giving the other man a wide grin. The Mer laughed softly.

The rope fell around his ankles before Cicero could react. The Mer closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. Cicero yelped, wriggling, as he was lifted off the ground and slammed against the nearest tree.

The man's eyes were even more impressive up close, his gaze almost burning into his skin as he leaned forward. Appraising. Analysing. Hungry.

[andguesswhat]

Okay, why the hell not? For the Dune promo, my head had come up with a story about Jack without asking, for various reasons though it never made it completely onto paper.

But now that it's Jack's birthday... I thought maybe I'd just post the beginning as a birthday present… lol

But don’t worry, Jack, it’s rather harmless, I would say.

The shield that you own

*

Jack grabbed Tim under the arms to hold him better. Even though Tim was as light as a feather, they were all uncontrollably heavy when drunk. Tim giggled at the contact, his head falling heavily onto Jack's shoulder.

"What kind of bodyguard are you? ... Are you trying to tickle me to death? You should know by now that I'm ticklish!" Tim's voice was slurred and mumbling and the tone became childish and provocative, when he continued, "You could carry me...?"

Without responding, Jack dragged Tim further through the hotel room door, half supporting, half pulling, under his arm, around his waist, just where his balance was giving way, while trying not to lose Tim’s jacket that he already had taken off. Of course, he could have carried him instead, this skinny little creature who was nevertheless lighter when drunk than some when sober, but there was more than one reason to avoid it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim curl his lips into an exaggerated pout. "You're never any fun, Jack!"

Jack raised his eyebrows as if to say "Really?" but ignored Tim's comment apart from that as well as Tim's far-too-close lips, from which a whiff of tequila emanated, and concentrated instead on getting Tim to the bed.

They were in Mexico city, a huge premiere of Dune 2 in this huge city had just taken place this evening and the after party hadn't been wild, but it had apparently been enough to make Tim giggle uncontrollably. Sometimes it didn't take much for the adulation of the masses to get him drunk. First the senses were hyped, wide smile, wide eyes, wide talk, than followed giddy drunkenness.

At the bed, Jack let go of Tim so he could fall onto the bed, but Tim didn't let go of him, so Jack toppled over with him. He tried to catch himself with his hands, but he couldn't catch his whole body, so his face brushed Tim's cheek and his nose buried deep down in those god damn dark curls.

Tim giggled beneath him. And Jack decided to give himself a millisecond. They were familiar with each other, very familiar, also physically, and yet this closeness always did something to him.

The soft tickle of the curls on his skin and the smell of Jamie's hair styling products in his nose made Jack close his eyes for another millisecond.

Then the two milliseconds were over and he sat up again, ignoring the vague tugging in his body, heart as loins, instead lifted Tim's legs onto the bed and set about removing his boots while Tim rolled on the bed and grumbled like a drunken teen.

It wasn't that often that Tim got drunk, but it wasn't the first time either. Jack knew Tim liked the buzz, even if he was too worried to indulge in it too often.

In a fit of energy Tim humped the bed, “Goddd… Austin was looking sex-ayyy tonight, right? Wanted to fuck him right there.”

Jack ignored the comment, pulled on the second boot and placed it next to the bed.

Tim lifted his head and looked at him, "I can't believe you put them on the floor, instead of just letting them fall!" He sounded somehow shocked, admiring and teasing at the same time.

Jack laughed. He liked it when Tim made fun of him, it was always... affectionate.

But then Tim closed his eyes again and Jack could see the buzz working in his head. He let his gaze linger on Tim's face.

The face of an innocent angel. He resisted the impulse to brush a curl of hair from this face. The angel was not meant for him.

It was time to go.

Jack adjusted his jacket, "Do you need anything?" With the last of his strength, Tim straightened up, grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him onto the bed so that Jack ended up lying next to him. "Don't go," Tim's breath hitched against Jack’s face. Again Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He had been so determined that it wouldn't happen again and now he had to admit to himself that he had only deceived himself.

For a while they just lay there, Tim breathing, searching his way through the grogginess, Jack watching him, feeling the gentle ripples of air on his face with every breath Tim took…

When Tim's head carousel seemed to slow down a little, Tim laid his hands on Jack's face. "It was awesome, wasn't it?" His eyes opened briefly before closing again. "All those crowds..." Yes, the fans, the crowds, the masses... Tim loved that. Bathing in the crowd, being admired by the masses. The crowd electrified him, turned him on. Made him horny. And now the thought of it was apparently enough to reawaken his sex drive.

Tim rubbed his crotch lightly against Jack's thigh. An audible gasp.

Jack bit his lower lip. Then another rub.

Tim's breathing a little louder this time, Tim's cock noticeably harder.

The desire spread through Tim's tired body, waking him up, making him more alert and horny by the second until it finally took over. Tim swung himself over Jack, propped himself up with his hands to the right and left of Jack, his head lowered, his curls in free fall, and looked at him with a glazed expression. He looked so beautiful, so hot. Jack couldn't say it any other way. It wasn't his fault he was getting weak. Tim lowered his pelvis, rubbing against his, pressing their hard cocks together. Almost automatically Jack went to Tim's cock, squeezed it through his pants and Tim groaned. Jack knew what this was all about, what Tim wanted. And even if Jack didn't necessarily want to admit it to himself, he wanted nothing more than to fulfill Tim's wish. Tim humped into Jack's hand, moaning, and Jack's fingers eventually found their way into his pants, under his underpants, feeling the warmth, the soft skin, and wrapped around Tim's hard cock as Tim's moans vibrated louder and louder through his body. Tim's glazed look was both present and absent. As if he wanted to take Jack back there to the masses again. They had both experienced it, had both been there, how the crowds had loved Tim, had wanted him. If it had been up to them, they would have all wanted to touch him, grab him, tear his clothes off, and if it had been up to Tim, Tim would have wanted that too, to feel that love, on his body, hands on his bare and naked skin, fingers reaching for him, digging into his flesh, mouths kissing and tongues licking every inch of him, wanting him, loving him, bringing him to climax. Jack was sure Tim was having sex with all those people in his head right then when Jack pumped him hard, Tim’s gaze dark, his lips moist. It didn't take long now, Tim was exhausted, this wasn't about maximizing pleasure, about extensive sex. What had built up had to come out. Jack felt the hard cock twitch, smelled the sex already, and Tim came with a loud moan. "Ahh!" The cum was warm and sticky on Jack's fingers. Jack knew what it tasted like. Tim dropped down close to Jack and again the damn curls tickled Jack's nose. Tim reached tiredly and lazily for Jack's cock.

It wasn't half-hearted, but it was far from promising either. "You don't need to-" Jack said. "No, I don't want you -" "No, it's okay." Tim rubbed his nose tiredly against Jack's shoulder. "Sure?" "Yeah..." "I'll make it good for you another time, okay?" Jack laughed softly. Tim snuggled up to him. "Sorry, I stained your suit." "It's okay." It wasn't the first time. Jack tried to straighten up. "But I should go now." Tim's heavy arm across him stopped him. "No… Don't be stupid." Jack took a deep breath, for a while wondering if he should insist. For his own self, which would only nag him again tomorrow.

But he was pretty inept at letting Tim down. Always had been. "Can I at least take my jacket off?" He tried to take it lightly. "Yeah sorry..." Tim took his arm away. Jack took off his jacket, half rose from the bed to throw it over the back of the chair, took off his shoes and deliberately dropped them on the floor. Tim chuckled with half-closed eyes. "Good for you!" Jack smiled, albeit a little melancholically, and lay back down in bed a little away from Tim, but Tim immediately moved and cuddled up to him. "Did you see the girl who wanted the tattoo and what I wrote?" Tim asked quietly and dreamily. "Of course." Tim always wanted Jack to hear everything funny he said or did. "Man, I was shaking so much..." Yes, Jack had noticed that.

It was always fascinating to Jack that some things never changed. Of course, Tim was an old hand on the red carpet by now, and even if he knew by now how to hide it very well, the crowds not only electrified him, they also still intimidated him as hell. "I felt you behind me," Tim whispered quietly. "You know when I leaned up to that fan? You stepped up, too. I was so glad that I had you in my back." "It's my job."

"You took care of me."

Tim looked Jack deep into his eyes, not drunk, but not sober either, and gently pressed his lips to Jack's. "I couldn't do any of this without you, you know that, right?" Jack held his breath, looked at Tim, although he wanted nothing else than to close his eyes.

And he didn't know if he hated Tim more for saying that, or himself for wanting to believe it. ***

[fallloverfic]

I am legitimately confused by repeated comments that ORV's opening is slow or boring or uninteresting, especially people who say you need to read [insert some very large number of pages/chapters] to get to the "good" parts. I've seen this on multiple socials at this point and I originally wrote this post months ago, but recent potential news has brought back people saying this again, particularly in recommending it to other people/trying to get other people into it.

I would personally argue that ORV has a good opening. A very good opening. And the early part of it is very good, too.

ORV opens with a literal train of angst, attempted friendship, workplace harassment (Sangah getting harassed by her boss), some neat Korean folklore (dokkaebis hello), graphic violence (remember when Bihyung just kills the president on TV?), a group of people in a subway attempting to beat an old woman to death, Dokja winning a pissing contest with a teenage edgelord, a bunch of people getting murdered, bonding in times in despair over a really unique form of problem solving, a man breaking open subway doors with his bare arms, young love, and magic, fleeing onto a bridge that gets exploded to bits by an evil gremlin, a horde of zombies appearing, the protagonist getting new magic powers, and then his getting held by the neck over said broken bridge in a complex back and forth with the "true" story protagonist before getting dropped into the mouth of a giant sea monster.

It covers topics like the limits of human compassion in times of strife, the complicated presence of the military (Dokja hated his time being drafted v Hyunsung's military leadership doesn't save anyone), international relations (Sangah is learning Spanish), trope subversion (I mean it is and isn't the entire book and Dokja's character, but he's constantly trying to be 5-10 steps ahead of what's going on, including literally fleeing Joonghyuk until Joonghyuk grabs him by the collar), workplace harassment, bullying, and it's all taking place during multiple apocalypse scenarios.

This is the like first 11 chapters of the book. And it never stops. There are "slower" moments, moments where characters take a breather (like it takes a while for Dokja to negotiate his contract with Bihyung, which is slow if you ignore the fact Dokja is arguing with an interdimensional being/alien for the limits of his own life and autonomy in the most dangerous streaming event imaginable, knowing he may still die if he gambles wrong on his personal wikipedia brain), but it's still frequently confrontational, whether that confrontation is about what characters mean to each other, what lives are at stake, finding your purpose in life, adaptability to complex circumstances, overcoming trauma and self-doubt...

And it's more intense in a way in the manhwa adaptation because you can clearly see most of it visualized (e.g., how visually wrecked the characters get, how young the kids are, how terrifying the monsters are, how scary the odds are, and how dangerous Dokja's gambles can really get with a fickle streaming audience), and Sleepy-C's art is gorgeous.

I just have to wonder (though this is more of a rhetorical question), what on earth do people consider fast? Because I am quite honestly terrified of what the answer is.

Like I get that ORV is long. It can be hard to recommend very long books to folks (and as the manhwa keeps going, long comics). To each their own, everyone is different, what appeals to me won't appeal to others. But there's a difference between "it's hard to recommend a very long work to someone" and "it's hard to recommend something that's long and takes a while to get into", and maybe folks are just writing the former a bit weirdly. I completely understand having trouble recommending long series to people. Also ORV has a very complex plot and I don't blame folks having trouble recommending that. I'm writing fic for later parts of orv and other manhwa and I dread explaining all the context for all that to someone who hasn't read them.

That being said, ORV has a very good introduction. Both chapter 1 of the novel and episode 1 of the manhwa are very good. They're not perfect, I can't say I was hooked from the immediate moment I started reading the page, but both of them have good introductions and it doesn't stop, and there's stuff to love in just about every chapter/episode, and I was definitely hooked enough by the time I finished to keep going to chapter/episode 2. Chapter 1 of the novel has great angst and character building, and it's funny and sweet and tragic. When I first read Dokja trying, earnestly, to recommend TWSA and getting harassed about it and worrying it will hurt this art and artist he cares about, but not being able to do much else to give thanks for this experience because of his circumstances, I cried. The first page/episode of the manhwa has them delicious boys love vibes and gorgeous art (and cute baby Dokja, I die for him), and the promise of a fascinating story ahead, and then the following page/episode has more gorgeous art and angst and great characters (combining them cause the first page feels sort of more like a teaser than a first page, though Episode 0 ends with a spread of Kimcom that makes me tear up). We'll unfortunately never know if I'd have loved ORV as much if I'd read the novel first, but I like to think I would cause ORV's opening is just that good.

I just truly, truly do not understand the sentiment that idk the opening and the first [insert large number of pages/chapters] aren't good or interesting or engaging enough. Maybe I'm out of touch. To each their own on what appeals, maybe I'm built different (doubt it though) but it just feels kind of dismissive of ORV's opening, in both the novel and the manhwa, which are both really good. Will it win over everyone? No. It's fine if you weren't grabbed by the opening or the first [insert however many pages/chapters/arcs]. It's fine if you took a while, even a long while to get into it, or never really did, and maybe don't like the manhwa, which is a great gateway into the story, or don't like the novel for whatever reason and prefer the manhwa. And at the end of the day it's just random opinions online, we all have different ones. Make the posts that appeal to you on your blog, complain on your socmed, whatever. But the opening is good, it keeps you very engaged with a lot of difficult scenarios, the characters are great and fun and funny, in those parts especially, and idk why I'm supposed to pretend that's not the case.

Anyway I don't like writing complaint posts. The opening and general start are excellent and Imma go back and cry over Dokja again ty singNsong for my tears.