#Igris has two hands

[jdah]

how come there isn’t any bellion x igris fics / arts 🥹 the time they spent together while serving their liege, bringing down their foes together, leading the shadow army together, watching their liege fuck up another being into submission/death together… old man yaoi… couple goals

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Isekaid! Artist! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 044 ✦ ┆・

[Tw: I think this fall under depictions of depression and panic attacks. Please, if you're not in the headspace, do not read this. ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ My Muse] ¡! ❞

Isekaing to Solo Leveling is one thing, but living in this world is just... Way too brutal for your poor heart.

Why is that? Anxiety is a major enemy.

What do you mean everyone else is living normally not having little paranoid moments that lead to panic attacks with overtaking at the possibility of a gate opening somewhere near you and monsters would come out?

Sung Jinah's school wasn't even safe. How are you gonna live?

Anyway.

You have a job to do.

Even though you just wanna spend all of your time crying in the corner of your room and praying to god to protect you when technically you aren't even religious.

But what are you to do?

It's not like Sung Jinwoo will swoop in and save you from misery.

...Hahah, if only.

You are one of his more delulu fans, like every other girl in this country— You are a big fan.

Well, except the fact that you know far more things about Jinwoo since you came from a world where he is fiction.

The flex you have is that you know how awfully adorable that petty bastard is when he was still an E-ranker. Those Jinwoo simps will never know the fact that Jinwoo has the fluffiest and softest looking cheeks ever.

Not to mention, you have all of his powers memorized to even the titles those powers have. You can name a lot of his shadows.

Of course the easiest to name are Beru, Igris, Bellion, Kaisel, Tank,.... And the easiest,... One, two, three, four.... Yeah, you get it.

But why are you being so smug? As if you 're not the same fool who secretly buys Jinwoo polaroids. Coming from this country full of fangirls is a haven for you since there is quite... The plethora of Jinwoo trinkets.

And you, being a lovestruck fool, went all in and took "Take all my money" to the next level even though the man you're obsessing over is 10x more richer than you.

But ah, this isn't the time to fawn over your Jinwoo merch paradise.

You have work.

Thankfully enough, this world has given you mercy. Despite it preying on your paranoid self, it gave you the blessing of living the life you've always wanted.

And that is to be a freelance artist.

Not doing your average 9-5, crying about the lack of fame you receive that hinders the pathway to making a successful art career, not having to listen to family members berating your love for art as low as a drug abuse.

In this world, no one is going off about your craft, no one is belittling your passion to something akin to a crime.

Like it's just a pathetic hobby and there's no meaning to all the hard work you put in the past years improving your skills, there's no value to being able to draw squares and circles more impressive than others, there's nothing note worthy of being able to pick and choose colours— There's none of that.

To be honest, there was even lots of moments where you wanted to give up, where you realized maybe they're right.

Even if you had starved yourself just to save up for your art materials, even if you work hard micro-analyzing your artstyle, even if you spent hours studying the algorithms, even if you shed blood sweat and tears just for the glimmer of hope that maybe you can turn your art into something more— It's all just delusions.

Like how you hope to be one of those big artists who inspire other people to create their own pieces. Like how you secretly hope that maybe your artworks can bring a smile to anyone's face if they come across it. Like how you silently pray to every single star that may your wish come true.

You wanted to keep hoping, for the slim chance of having a single magnus opus that will instantly put you in the limelight— You wanted to keep having your hand outstretched to that tiny light.

But everyday, with each piece, you start to realize that your dreams are all for nothing.

You had been so focused on art that it's the only thing you have that defines who you are as a person and as an individual.

Art is what made you human.

Slowly, your innocent dreams molded itself into a twisted and vile poison that ate you from the inside out. Your love for creating backfired and now it's a blur if your passion stems from adoration or you just ran with it because it's the only thing that made you feel relevant in this world.

Maybe you should give up.

Even if there is a drastic improvement in your art with each piece, what good is it if it can't guarantee that career you oh so desperately want? The big artists say that you should make art for yourself, well yeah, they're right. But what if even if you do that it doesn't work?

Colour theory, shape language, line language, composition— All of those improved out of sheer love to learn. You've seen other people around you get careers out of it so it will happen to you?

Right?...

Right?

You're not a problematic artist, you don't make trouble, you don't make enemies, you don't participate in drama, you stay humble and eloquent.

Surely it will work... Right?...

Hahah.

In that world?

No it didn't.

It did not.

You died in your deathbed after being involved in a hit and run.

And after a long period of slumber, you have awoken in this world where somehow you are a renowned artist.

It felt shallow, really.

Suddenly having all of that in a snap of a finger through death?

Hah.

It felt like it mirrors Jinwoo's life. Except he had rightfully earned the flory of his powers.

Truthfully, you love him because of that.

What was it?

Ah yes.

"Because I was rock bottom, I longed for the highest peak."

That was the line that made you love him.

As someone who had no future in your art career, it was that line that made your heart yearn for him.

Two unfortunate souls who struggle in the same thing in different dimensions, except one managed to create that dream into reality.

Sure, you have the glory now. And although it made you so happy, it still felt so shallow because you didn't achieve this through hardwork. You just had to die.

You had to be dead.

It took dying to be given the mercy of having your dreams be granted.

And that just made you feel so... So awful.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

With a canvas on one hand, your painting materials neatly arranged in a bag in the other hand— You take a deep breath and enter the party.

Brilliant golden lights twinkle above your head coming from the magnificent chandelier hanging above. Cameras flashing, the clinking of glasses as hunters and celebrities discussed amongst themselves dressed in luxurious outfits and blinging jewelry.

The sight made your stomach sink and a lump in your throat forming.

This is an entirely different world you knew from the lonely greys and blues.

You look around frantically, almost panicking at the overwhelming chatter and blinding lights.

"Ah, you're here" A voice snaps you out of it.

You turn to see your sponsor, Choi Jong-in flashing a polite and handsome smile. You bow your head politely.

"Please," Jong-in simply shakes his head, "No need to be so polite. I am pleased that you have arrived in time. Champagne?"

He extends a glass towards you and you shake your head, sheepishly saying "O-oh... I'm not really an alcohol enjoyer. I'm fine."

"Ah, I see" He nods apologetically before gesturing you to a clearer space.

Jong-in escorts you to a less crowded area of the ball, the lessened crowd and noise calming your accelerated heartbeat down.

"If there is anything you need, please feel free to call me or the waiters" He says kindly, "You are also free to eat food."

"Thank you, Mr. Choi" You bow politely.

Before he could even reply, Jong-in was called over by a beautiful blonde girl you knew all too well.

Cha Hae-in.

She's as lovely as she was in the manhwa panels, with that red dress and her neatly tied hair— She was a sight to behold.

But as soon as you see a tall man clad in black, you feel a distinct thump in your heart, a twisting kind of small pain that made you feel like it stopped beating along with the way your lungs stopped breathing— You knew who it was.

"A guest?..." He inquires, making your heart thump even harder at the sound of that deep voice you only heard through the speakers of your phone and laptop.

"Mr. Sung, I'm glad you could make it along with my vice master" Jong-in hums, "This is an artist I'm sponsoring, I thought it would be a good idea to commemorate this important event celebrating humanity's win against the gates"

"Ah, I see" Jinwoo's handsome grey eyes would sweep onto your anxious form who is fidgeting uncontrollably in her hands. "I'm Sung Jinwoo,"

He extends a hand, making you look up at him with an even nervous look. It took you a while to extend your hand, and the moment your palm touched his— You felt as of you're touching someone from a different species. Something too unreal and dovine.

You barely had even managed to speak your name out with how much of a nervous wreck you are. Shaking his hand didn't happen if it weren't for Jinwoo gently doing it and letting you pull your hand away.

Your palms may have been trembling, but now it's even more erratic as you step back, not meeting his gaze.

Thank gods Jong-in decided to start a conversation to pivot Jinwoo's attention away from you.

As you attempt to calm yourself with a persistent panic attack, you feel a soft tap on your hands.

"Thank you for coming, I-I hope you enjoy your time" Hae-in says in her hesitant voice.

And you, who cant mutter a single word after your very first encounter with Jinwoo— Only muster a polite nod at her as she turns away to join Jong-in and Jinwoo in their conversation.

You were on a trance for almost five minutes, before finally deciding to set up your easel and canvas. You took out two different mason jars and filling them up with water; the gouache paint you will be using as a medium; the ceramic palette you have been using for quite a while now; and finally gently arranging your brushes.

Jong-in didn't specify what you should be painting for this event. But decided to paint the stage. An hour into the event, Jinwoo would start giving his speech as he is the main hero of the war against the gates and monarchs—As well as the person this whole event is dedicated to.

You had to pause in your process of painting the canvas, just to give respect to Jinwoo.

Your idol.

Your role model.

The man of your dreams.

His words aren't even registering as you can't help but be lost in a trance as he continues with his speech. Unconsciously, your hand raised itself and started to paint carefully, your eyes fixated on the hunter as your hand moved with a mind on its own.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jong-in was extremely worried for the artist he had hired, he could tell from earlier she was having a panic attack with the hesitance. And when Jinwoo came into the picture, it seemed to frighten her all the more. He quietly called for his secretary to add at least 40% more of the initial payment that was planned to compensate for the unintentional distress he had put her onto.

While Jinwoo was giving his speech, he couldn't help but check on her by glancing from the distance.

In that canvas, he saw the stage, and in that stage was Jinwoo.

The artist was carefully painting Jinwoo.

Delicate strokes despite her eyes not on the cloth and brush. She was just mindlessly moving her hand as she looks at Jinwoo.

"Ah... I see it now."

Jong-in quietly smiles to himself.

It wasn't that she was frightened of Jinwoo's intimidating presence. No way does someone scared of a person have that same intense look with such dilated pupils.

With a determined hum, Jong-in knew exactly what to do.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It had been three days since that event, and Jinwoo was attending to paperwork when he was informed of Jong-in's visit.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a bit of worry that his 'senior' might scold him for renting out gates in territory of Hunter's guild.

To his surprise, Jong-in entered carrying a rather large thing into his office.

"???" Jinwoo cocks up an eyebrow, silently inquiring Jong-in at what is the thing he brought in.

"Take a look, hunter Sung" Jong-in simply says and the hunter reluctantly stood up from his chair to approach the item his senior placed down.

When Jinwoo pulled off the protective cloth, he was met with a brilliant painting that felt like it was straight out of a renaissance era painting.

The red curtains were blood red and shaded softly. The wood is delicately painted, with even tiny specks that indicates the painter's exquisite attention to detail, but most importantly— His eyes were drawn to the middle, where a man stood center.

It was him.

His face was delicately painted, even his tousled black locks were intricately painted to imitate the way his strands behaved, his body language was painted in a relaxed but still managed to somehow translate the undertone of authority and power he held over the crowd that was purposely painted in a blurry manner to give more focus to him. Even the lighting of the stage was expertly imitated on the canvas.

The piece looked as if its goal was to put emphasis on his—the man who is standing in the golden limelight. As if it were trying to put him on a divine pedestal, to show him off as this some sort of god woth the painting.

"Who?..." Jinwoo finally manages to inquire.

"The artist chose you as her muse for the painting" Jong-in says, fixing his tie as he does so. "Quite the talent, no? Even us hunters who have quite the skill in the art of combat, are taken aback by such craft. It was as if she had magic on her very fingertips despite being just a civilian."

"Her muse," Jinwoo repeats, not knowing what to feel about it.

"It would be... Quite indecent of me to keep a portrait of a rival in my guild, no?" Jong-in coughs out, making Jinwoo awkwardly nod. "Consider it as a gift and a thank you for assisting my guild in jeju raid as well as your role in the war."

"I have quite the awards really, no need" He shakes his head.

"Yes," Jong-in glances back at the painting. "But I think that you, as the painter's muse, must see for yourself this piece created on your image."

"Mn...."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo quite frankly grew curious of the little painter he met and made him the centerpiece of her painting. He was honestly worried at first, she was so small compared to him and she was trembling at the sight of him. It didn't help that he noticed how she grew more shaken after they exchanged pleasantries.

Maybe he had gripped her hand a little too much.

Beru on the other hand, was visibly very pleased at the painting as well as the other shadows who wont shut up about it.

Throughout his monotonous days and hours, Jinwoo would often think of the painter.

It feels... Weird to be in someone's painting.

It's unreal even.

But ah... By chance, he met that pleasant little painter again.

She was in the bookstore, picking up several heavy books. When he approached her, she was flustered and nearly dropped the books she was purchasing if it weren't for him assisting her.

Just like their first meeting, she was clearly bashful and anxious. So Jinwoo made space between them and made small talk.

Somehow, their small talks would develop into long and meaningful ones with the days passing of them having frequent encounters.

There is this tiny, tiny warmth in Jinwoo's heart whenever he finds himself in the presence of his painter.

His heart whom he thought had lost its capability to harbor affection— Is beating fast whenever he crosses paths with her.

There is... Something about her.

Her little habits, her never ending curiosity, her childish habits and her love for everything beautiful. Somehow, everything in her eyes has the potential to be a piece of artwork.

Jinwoo was never a creative soul, he's only ever creative at insults maybe.

So to see someone so dedicated to her own craft, to see someone so full of love for something... It's like peering into a different world he never thought was there.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Go Gunhee decided to visit Jinwoo, it was to thank the hunter again with coffee beans and two— Just to visit Jinwoo.

"Ah, hunter Sung," Gunhee smiles as the person he waited for appears. "I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to pop in"

"Not at all, director" Jinwoo smiles politely.

"That piece," The old man's gaze drifts to a painting hun by Jinwoo's side. "What a magnificent work of art. I heard Hunter Choi gifted it to you after the artist he hired decided to put you as the centerpiece. Truly such remarkable talent by a younger lady."

"Yes, hahah" Jinwoo awkwardly rubs his nape.as he serves Gunhee a cup of tea.

"My father told me that artists have a special kind of love" Gunhee hums, reminiscing. "He told me that having an artist love you is different. A writer glorifies you into pleasant words, a musician translates your beauty into compelling music and a painter immortalises all of you in a single painting. A blank canvas is a tool by painters that they use to communicate. All the ugliness of the world can be put into ink, and all the beauty into wonderful pops of pleasant colors"

He continues, "And through my years, this is one of the few most magnificent pieces I've ever seen that shows the painter's love for it's muse"

"Her muse," Jinwoo repeats it, "I've been told the same thing."

"A lovely feeling, no?" Gunhee chuckles, "To be loved by a person so full of love."

"...So that's what it means"

"..."

The old man's face wrinkles into a happier smile.

Young love, truly beautiful, isn't it?

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"That colour is really pretty" You mutter absentmindedly glance at the flowing water underneath, as if trying to ingrain the memory and behaviour of it.

"Thinking of a new artwork, again?" Jinwoo asks, glancing down at the direction you were staring at. "I can't wait to see what you'll make."

"Your pieces are always so beautiful"

It felt as if something struck an arrow at your heart, you glance at Jinwoo— Completely frozen in state.

When he noticed the heavy silence, his eyes would befall on you before his mouth going a little agape.

You're crying.

"Did... I say something wrong?..." Jinwoo asks and you panic, immediately tearing your gaze away.

"No, no, no" You shake your head, hiding your shameful tears from Jinwoo.

Compliments with your art were never really foreign, but you, being the insecure sad soppy excuse of a human being would always downplay it most of the time.

You were never truly satisfied with yourself and anything you ever made. Mostly because you came from a household where everything is never enough.

Ultimately, that system has been fully ingrained into your body that it became your personality.

Colors are muddy, the lines aren't steady or too thick or thin, the anatomy is off, the composition isn't fluid and the harmony is all over the place.

You were always, always, critical of yourself.

Nothing is ever enough.

Your works aren't beautiful enough, and you thought they never will be.

But when Jinwoo told you your art was beautiful, it caused something to crack inside and burst open.

Maybe it's because you loved him so much. Maybe it's because he is the person you admire the most in your sorry, lonely life.

It was always Jinwoo who was in your mind whenever you had those bad episodes of just having silent mental breakdowns.

It's his image that became your most beloved saviour.

Perhaps you're sobbing because you're finally able to hear the words you've imagined he would during the times you daydreamed about him.

Or maybe... Your body reacted because you knew deep down that Jinwoo was never a liar.

That he didn't say those words out of empty praise, that he said your crafts is beautiful because they simply are.

In your broken, shattered heart a heavy yet soft warmth swelled. Swelling so much that you felt so overwhelmed and couldn't control your emotions.

That kind of validation just felt like it washed away all the doubts that plagued you for years.

As you cried uncontrollably, Jinwoo would instinctively reach his hand out and pull you in for a searing kiss. His tongue gently nudges your lips before shoving itself into it.

One flick.

Two flicks

Three flicks,...

Until you yourself cant even count it anymore.

He pulls back slowly, but still not far enough for you not to feel his hot breath fanning over your cheeks.

"I only said your paintings are beautiful and yet you are crying like this, sarang?" He rubs his nose against yours, "Just what happened to you that you're this emotional, hm? Did you not think what you make is stunning? Did you never once think that your pieces are captivating? Why are you crying like this? How hurt have you been that it feels like you're crying out this kind of sorrow I can't seem to understand?"

"Why does your sobs feel like you've been dealing with such loneliness that a simple sincere compliment breaks you to this extend?"

"Everything about you is beautiful. All of you is beautiful." Jinwoo says in that ever so gentle voice of his, "Never doubt that for even a single second."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: what started as another simple fluffy idea turned into something more... Personal :'DD. Sorry guys hahahahsheshdg. Idk when I will have the free time to make the second half of the cai bots yet but please look out for when I do. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[steel-and-fire]

character sheet

REPOST, DON’T REBLOG !

Stolen from: @cosmosoracle

Tagging: Honestly everyone

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

FULL NAME. Igris'Ir Fireborn NICKNAME. Igris'Ir, Igris for friends GENDER. male HEIGHT. 220cm, 7'3ft AGE. 24 ZODIAC. Leo SPOKEN LANGUAGES. Common, Draconic

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

HAIR COLOR. Fiery, ranging from light orange to dark red, and it looks like moving fire in the sunlight. EYE COLOR. Bright red with a hint of orange hues in the water BODY TYPE. Athletically muscular, wide shoulders and chest, powerful limbs and slightly wider hips than average for a man VOICE. Strong, solemn, not heavy but has a subtle vibration to it. When he loses control, it becomes very heavy and hoarse, as if burning charcoal are in his throat. DOMINANT HAND. Right. POSTURE. Upright, standing tall and watching the world from as high as possible. SCARS. Igris'Ir only has a single scar that his regenerative body could not fully heal in time, and it's on the left side of his chest TATTOOS. He used to have no tattoos, the people of his tribe are born with unique birthmarks that show their heritage, and tattoos are believed to hide or alter that unique patterns, so they avoid them...But as of recently, he has a large tattoo of the sun on his back BIRTHMARKS. Talking of which, he has red tattoo-like marks over his eyes, that each fall into a sharp, tear like line. He has a second on his nose, a third on his chin, two more on his shoulders. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). Pale/Ashen skin, fiery hair, two large curved horns, and a strong, draconic tail from the end of his back

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

PLACE OF BIRTH. In a village of dragonborn in the mountain range of the Icepeaks HOMETOWN. Doracis, said village SIBLINGS. Igris'Hyl, his twin sister, and Ifrit'Ar, his younger one PARENTS. His father, Rasga'Sol died in a storm in the see when he was young, refusing help in order for Igris to be saved. His mother is Stella'Ris is alive in well in Doracis

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

OCCUPATION. Mercenary, adventurer CURRENT RESIDENCE. Doesn't have one, as he keeps traveling. He hangs out a lot in Shurima, as well as Ionia, as he has good friends there. CLOSE FRIENDS. Evangelia, who he hasn't seen in very long, and Sivir. I won't mention more, since i assume this meant to be the very tight circle he can open his heart to and would trust with his soul, and while he has many good developing friendships, he is still rather closed up. RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Single FINANCIAL STATUS. Quite wealthy, his constant monster slaying and bounty hunting has amassed him quite the small fortune. DRIVER’S LICENSE. We don't really do liscenses on the wild mountains, but he can ride a direwolf(?) and a cart decently well CRIMINAL RECORD. None official, he has made sure to always stay within the extend of the laws of the region he operates on....At least, as long as there are witnesses. There is nothing good from being on the run, and noone in their sane mind would try to arrest him over punching someone. He might soon make one though... VICES. Alcohol, and occasional smoking, although neither really affect him much at all. Anger release is a more real one, as when he loses control and unleashes his bloodlust, he is 'rewarded' by an incredibly pleasurable feeling. He is also entirely reckless, and it's been a problem for his close ones in the past.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Pansexual, female lean PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch LIBIDO. High TURN ON’S. Physical touch, affection, dirty teasings TURN OFF’S. Disrespect and disregard of boundaries, unsavory behavior, lack of hygiene LOVE LANGUAGE. Acts of service, quality time, words of affirmation, physical touch, gift giving..All of it. He is very expressive with his affections, and appreciates all of them in return RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. He enjoys staying around the person he loves, sharing moments with them, making dreams and plans..He is often genuinely afraid to express his feelings, and is often content with sharing affections. Even if his feelings aren't returned, he will still give his all of this person and value them eternally, because to love them in the first place, they were special. If they are returned, and something blooms, he will give his all for them, and will change his life path to be compatible with theirs, share common dreams and aspiration. He becomes very expressive and affectionate, and is just a big silly teddy bear for them.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. I dont have set ones yet, but i've been listening a lot to Two Steps From Hell - Star Sky, and Against My Tide | Divide Music when i write him lately HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. Tribal jewelry crafting, reading romance literature LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. Left PHOBIAS. Abandonement, Insufficiency, LARGE AMOUNTS OF WATER (very large lakes and open seas) SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. 8.5/10. VULNERABILITIES. As of now, Igris'Ir will go to great lengths to protect others, as well as avenge them. It is not something he can easily, if at all, fight against, and it can be used to lure or trap him. He also has a few people in his life his would lay his life, soul, or worse, for without hesitation, disregarding any sense of self-preservation. He is reckless, and will punch above his level if it means to protect others.

[inzsanewrites]

Idk but imagine sung jin woo behind reader signing their 79th authograph for the day definetely tired because of the simps who love reader because of their good look and mainly because their so mysterious and is rare to even be glance at by reader and reader is a S rank who's just tryna go to the cafe with their bf and has sleep deprivation definetely asked sung jin woo to cover for them

Attractive S-Rank S/O

At this point in your relationship, Jin-Woo could no longer be surprised.

Even when you two were in middle school and you hadn’t become a hunter yet. People would crowd around the windows of the school, desperate to catch a glimpse of your beauty when you were walking the grounds hand in hand with Jin-Woo.

He hadn’t expected things to change as your beauty bloomed and your secluded world from in size. And he didn’t expect to two if you to go down the hunter path and you to be a revered S rank hunter.

At the time he was the World’s Weakest Hunter so it was quite often for you two to try to go in dates only for crowds of adoring people to separate you. You had learned that keeping things like your social media, activities, hobbies, and events private. You even began speaking little during public events only wanting to do your job properly and maintain you private life.

He had understood your reasons and was often the only one to notice your discomfort but could barely do a thing as he was often ridiculed for being your significant other. After his second awakening, people had noticed him more and called you the “Ideal” for couples worldwide after his S rank evaluation.

That still didn’t change the fact people tripped over themselves and others just to see your back profile. Even when paparazzi did just about anything to see him in action, when you entered the picture everyone else was discarded faster than their camera flash.

You had wanted to relax for quite some time now because of the excessive attention and the increase of gates, so Jin-Woo like the great significant other he was, set up a date for the two of you in a relatively secluded cafe downtown.

You two had been enjoying yourselves sipping the unique drinks and eating a small lunch. Until you had to take your mask off to eat. If Jin-Woo didn’t catch everyone’s attention, your gorgeous face did the trick within minutes people were surrounded the cafe and forming a line for your autograph and look at your face. Some were even there to propose but the glare from Jin-Woo quickly threw that thought out of their head.

Now here you were a strained smile on your face as the 79th fan squealed away with their autograph. Jin-Woo was behind you brainstorming ways to get you out without seeming to rude and from the length of the line that wasn’t going to be anytime today.

But seeing the next person to your hand shaky from all the autographs and absurdly long messages, he said screw it to manners and switched you with Igris in an instant leaving him with the line.

Since he was still the Sung Jin-Woo many still wanted his autograph but seeing you were no longer there nearly half the crowd left

Although it was going to make the next hours of his life easier it didn’t override the screams of fangirls in line and some joining

He doesn’t want you to thank him when he goes home at 2 am but if you do he’ll make it known you can show him your gratitude in the morning

A/N: (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[straykidsnerd255]

Hello o was wondering if you could do something’s about fem reader in a relationship with sung jinwoo getting jealous about cha hae in (like in chap 113 when she comes to the guild and the fight to test her) some fluff please

Here you go! Hope that it was to your liking love!!<3

When Cha-Hae in came to the guild, you were not bothered by this in the least. You knew that Jinwoo loved you. However, you noticed the not too subtle flirty looks she was throwing towards Jinwoo. She would stare at his lips or his hands. She would touch his arm when you were standing right there. He would simply shrug her off and wrap his arm around your shoulder. You looked up at him and smiled softly. “If you want to join, we will have to test you.” You said looking at Cha-Hae. She looked at you and glared. “You are not the guilds ma-” “She is the second master of this guild. She has the same authority as I do.” Jinwoo interrupted Cha-Hae. 

You looked up at him and smiled. You leaned your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his middle. Cha-Hae nearly had smoke coming out of her ears at this point. (I love Cha-Hae but for the purpose of this story she is gonna be mean) As you were walking down to the training hall, Cha-Hae stepped on the back of your shoe causing you to lose balance. She jogged up to Jinwoo’s side with her hands behind her back. She smiled sweetly as he began talking to her about the training. Beru and Igris appeared at her side. Igris, being the gentleman he was, helped you up and Beru fixed your shoe. 

You smiled at the two shadows who bowed and stayed at your side. When you reached the gym, you could feel your blood boiling. Cha-Hae was literally pressed too close to your man. You turned to Igris. “Tell Jinwoo Beru and I went home.” You said. Igris nodded his head and returned to his master's side. Beru looked down at you sadly but he walked with you back to the house. When you were safe inside and the doors were locked, Beru returned to Jinwoo’s side. You changed into pajamas and grabbed the tv remote. You climbed into bed and turned the tv on not caring about anything else.

With Jinwoo:

Jinwoo looked everywhere but the fight that was going on. He hadn’t seen Y/n since they entered the gym. Igris had told him that she had gone home but he was sure she was joking like she normally did. However, when Beru came and said the same thing, Jinwoo knew something was wrong. He was getting annoyed when Cha-Hae would hang off his arm or press too close to him. He didn’t like her that way and he had told her that many times. Jinwoo clapped his hands and Igris and Beru stopped fighting. Cha-Hae stopped and jogged over to him with a big smile. 

“You can join the guild. However, you are to listen to my girlfriend. She is the acting Guild Master when I am away on business. Understood Cha-Hae In.” Jinwoo said. He watched the girl stiffen when he used her full name and glared when he mentioned girlfriend. “Fine.” She said and grabbed her things and left. Jinwoo rubbed his temples before turning to Beru and Igris. “Let’s go home.” He said. They nodded and before Jinwoo had time to blink, he was standing in front of the door to his home. As he entered the house, he could hear the tv in yours and his shared bedroom playing.

He took his shoes off and placed his jacket on the couch and walked towards the bedroom. “Y/n.” He called out. Not a single sound was heard so he opened the door and looked towards the bed. He felt his heart clench in his chest. Y/n was curled up on the bed with dried tear stains on her face, and was sound asleep on the bed. The tv, still playing the cringy love story. He turned the tv off and walked to the dressers and grabbed his pajamas and quickly changed. He climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you.

“Y/n, I’m sorry for what happened. I tried to ignore her and I’m sorry for not trying to stop her more.” He whispered. He buried his face in your hair and the crook of your neck. He took a deep breath before falling asleep himself. You turned in his hold and curled against his chest. Your hands pressed to his chest as your head fit underneath his chin. A smile appeared on his face and his fingers began running through your hair. “I love you more than anything.” You whispered, pressing your lips to his. He smiled. “I love you too. More than the world.” He replied, kissing you back.

[laryna6]

The AU where instead of rewind Ashborn stays awake, they save the dad, head out to pin the monarch’ forces between the shadow army and the rulers’ forces and earth doesn’t get wrecked -

Jin-Ah has Trauma and Sung Jin-Woo knows his parents would have liked him to be able to get an education instead of... this, so when Jin-Ah goes to university for pre-med Sung Jin-Woo enrolls at that same university for languages/linguistics (basically Jin-Ho goes over and offers them a big check). This way, she knows he’s there on campus/in screaming distance, but they’re in in different areas so overprotective big brother hovering doesn’t bother her.

Ashborn is auditing Jin-Woo’s classes since that seems interesting and they want him occupied with stuff bc the suicidal thoughts re. wanting to ‘sleep forever.’

The problem is: Freshman Composition/the required course that’s there to protect teachers against students who don’t know how to essay.

Jin-Woo has forgotten everything he learned in high school about how to essay. Explanatory writing? Getting his thoughts across? He spent the last several years doing absolutely none of that. It is a plot point that he can’t communicate shit. Also he’s unaware of general social stuff to the point where there is so much accidental sexual innuendo in his first handed-in essay. So much. The poor TA is terrified thinking he’s flirting.

So. Uh. How do you tell the most powerful hunter in the world who everyone knows the experts are sure is a monster lord at this point that he has to take remedial classes?

The obvious person to consult is Woo Jin-Chul, as this is his job, so the essay gets slid across his desk and he’s O.o remembering how people were bitching about Jin-Woo not talking to reporters and not explaining shit and going THANK GOD THAT BOY KNEW WHAT HIS LIMITS WERE because imagine if he HAD talked to people/done interviews, IMAGINE HAVING TO DO DAMAGE CONTROL ON THIS LEVEL OF COMMUNICATION FAIL and all the weird ideas people would have gotten from the miscommunications.

So he’s like yeah... the media would be all over remedial classes... a private teacher is easiest to keep private because Jin-Woo doesn’t deserve people mocking him for the damage he took trying to keep his family alive...

Also Jin-Ho can help! He’s a good communicator/proposal writer etc, he knows rhetoric.

As per the canon epilogue Igris is... trying to help, but he was a career soldier so.

Ashborn’s essay on the other hand gets ‘wtf is this sentence structure?’ but the head of Gate Studies or w/e at the university who is getting consulted because p sure these two are monsters is like ‘this is translated from runic/monster tongue.’ Since Ashborn knows conversational basically-every-language from turning tons of people into shadows in prev timelines, but prose language is different from how you speak conversationally and all his experience writing stuff is from back when he was the Greatest Fragment, so when he’s composing formal writing he thinks in his native language and then translates into Korean.

Which. All human languages follow like, certain instinctive grammar patterns? They’re aliens, theirs is different. So yeah, there’s going to be a lot of stuff where ‘literally no human language does stuff this way only runic.’

But in addition to that, even in translation Ashborn’s writing is obviously a different dialect from what they’ve found in the dungeons because a. dungeon stuff is all from monster culture and b. dungeon stuff is informal graffiti/notes/maybe journals while when asked to do formal writing Ashborn is going to be doing formal legal writing.

Since rulers are concerned with rule of law as per how they were designed, which raises the possibility that the gov’t they were running was constitutional instead of being based on ‘bc we said so.’

Anyway, the scholars are *grabby hands* so despite risk of death asking Ashborn if they can get the untranslated version, which he likely has on him/in a binder bc wrote that out by hand before typing up translated essay.

Monsters are made to destroy and rulers to preserve, and that likely shapes their worldview and therefore how they perceive and describe things, so like... very obvious differences in like, how sequences of events are described, the optimum change being natural growth rather than forcefully imposed.

Also base 9 counting system? Everything they’ve seen has been base 8 - monsters from the eight monarchs. While the ruler side counting system used to be eight rulers and then the creator... but after realizing the creator was a dick they decided to switch to base 8 and no one told Ashborn bc he was dead at the time.

[imagineryupfuckedworld]

My best friends Shadow Soldier

Fandom: Solo Leveling Genre: I tried fluff, I am not good with fluff I am sorry Warnings: None Characters: Platonic!Igris, Platonic!Sung Jin Woo, Reader

having Jin Woo as a best friend has many, many advantages

Okay, not that many, but a lot

Jin Woo is reliable, a good listener, his sense of humor is sometime ehh but that is okay

the best advantage are his Shadow Soldiers

he planted one into your shadow, like he did with other people who are important to him

you found out late

you always felt watched and it creeped you out (even more after horror movies, but they are soooo good, urgh!)

you begun to get paranoid, Jin Woo laughed it off after you told him knowing damn well why you felt like that

he cursed about your good senses, even if you weren't a Hunter

Jin Woo felt bad for you and thought about telling you but he thought that it might freaked you out more

Well, maybe it would have been better to tell you

It would have saved you from a almost heart attack after Igris emerged from your Shadow to scare a burglar who broke into your apartment

The mess was.....well, a mess

You first screamed at the burglar, after Igris scared him off, you screamed at Igris, taking the next best thing you had next to you (a book) and begun to hammering down onto him

he just stood there, taking the book from you and trying to calm you down

He needed more than two hours to calm you down and signaling you who he belongs to

If Jin Woo had informed you he would have saved himself from you calling him angrily at 3 in the morning just to cuss him out

After that, it begun to get awkward at first

you were very aware of him. Like, when you changed your clothes or went into the shower.

But after Jin Woo explained that he don't watches of you like ALL the time you begun to get used to him

He got to be a part of your life somehow

Watching movies every other night

helping you with studies sometimes like pointing out obvious things

Talking to him about the newest gossip from your university

he even played with your pet when you couldn't because of your studies!

To say Jin Woo was tired, was an utter understatement. He was so tired that he went to crash at your place. His teleportation was on cooldown and his own apartment was way too far away. His tired limbs limbs wouldn't carry him that far anymore. The Dungeon was easy for him. The Monster were low but there were many and his teammates were....incompetent to say. He was mentally and physically tired and your place was the one who was near. The tired Hunter wasn't prepared for the sight in front of him when he opened the door to your apartment with his spare key. There you were, sitting in the bedroom. In front of your mirror. Seated in Igris lap. Telling him something animated, gesticulating like there is no tomorrow while Igris was doing your hair in.....ways Jin Woo never knew that would be possible. It was quit a sight and funny to see Igris nods and gesticulations to show you how he reacts to some things. The way he lifted a hand in front of his mouth like he was surprised or how he eagerly nodded. He even seemed to learn the gesticulation for "crazy". "What....?" "Oh! Jin Woo! What brings you here?" you and Igris seemed totally unfazed by the Hunter who just looks at you as if you have grown a third limb. His General just winked him shortly and went back to doing your hair. "I...uh..." the Hunter was at loss for words for a short time. Way too tired to really get what is happening "I...just wanted to crash here..if it's okay?" "Oh sure! Just sleep on the bed! I can totally sleep in Igris lap." ".....what?!" "yeah! He is really comfy. Already happened in the past while we watched horror movies. Oh by the way, Igris! Do you want to watch the new Godzilla movie? You know, the one with that huuuuge lizard we watched last time." The soldier just nodded while you jumped up. Making the bed ready for Jin Woo and giving him spare clothes of his that he left by you in case he comes to visit. "I....uh...thanks.." you were already out of the room when he thanked you so he looked confused at his General who just stared at him "And...you are okay with this?" a nod was his answer and the hunter sighed before smiling softly "It seems like you two bonded really quick, huh?" the shadow Knight rubbed his head sheepishly. "Well, that isn't so bad I guess. Now I know they are in good hands..not that I did not know this before." again a curt nod "Does she....always involves you like this?" "Like what?" you came back to the room, wondering where Igris is. "Like, in your day and all." "Yeah sure, why not? I mean, he is almost all the time with me when you don't need him and I bet it is boring just being in my shadow." "I...don't know if he even can get bored." "I bet he does! Anyway, aren't you tired?" You left him seconds later alone after saying this. Dragging Igris to the living room to watch a movie together like you do every night.

This was a request from @sung-jinuwu Thank you for your patience. I hope you're doing okay and I hope you like what I did there.

[internalsealpanic]

Hug Tutorials

summary: Constantine is stuck baby sitting. Not exactly his area of expertise. So how is he supposed handle a feral 8 year old? Help comes from an unexpected source.

A/n: I am pretty new to the Hellblazer fandom so forgive the characterization. I own nothing except Ruta (in all his bratty glory) and the plot. Maya belongs to the wonderful @birdy-bat-writes who is a wonderful human being. This thing is kind of part of a crack au me and Riya have been brain storming.  I will probably edit or rewrite this later.  Yes, I need a better title. 

warnings: awkward hugs, implied child neglect, and a lot of swearing

word count:  1,709 (This is actually really short.)

Ruta knows it hadn't started out like this.

He remembers when his mother used to try and help him read. She tried her best but the shapes on the page just made no sense to him. Not the way it did for Raffie or Mimi. 

He tries memorizing the words she said to him and parroting them back to her. It works! For awhile...  

He also remembers the walks to the park and how they'd listen to him about transparent people. 

They probably think he's too young to notice the change. 

His mom's slowly cut back on their nightly reading sessions opting for game night with his siblings. They were playing monopoly and that required a little too much reading for him to play. 

They haven't read together in months. Maybe he's the only one keeping track. 

He still tells them about the transparent people and now he tells them about the shadowy people but now they simply nod out of time with what he says. They used to be better at pretending and nodding in time with what he said. 

His dad got mad at him once when he started crying about the shadow people when they were at the market. He shook him, just a little, just enough to make him feel woozy, looking red with embarrassment. Ruta felt bad about it. He felt really horrible about  embarrassing his dad that he decided never to mention them again even when they got too close. 

The good news is he now had Count Von Bon Bon who listened and read aloud to him. He wasn't allowed inside the house because he was such a big bird but when they went outside he kept the shadow things away.  

He doesn’t need anyone else. He’ll be ok. 

-------------

If you asked John Constantine how on Earth he found himself in the mess, he'd likely give you a dumbfounded look, shrug, and mumble something about being too sober. 

But in all honesty, how does one find themselves watching their 8-year-old charge about to throw hands with not one but two Green Lanterns who should know better? 

Ruta stood , small and imperious, with his little arm crossed and his head thrown back after a great laugh. "I'd like to see ya do it, dumb carrot headed shit!" 

Guy, looking as red as, well, Sinestro, looks like he's about to deck the kid.  "Oh, I'm gonna,"  

John with all the good sense he's got fumbles over to the tiny terror.  "Sorry 'bout that lil' Ruta 'ere's just a bit nippy from 'avin' to wake up early. Yanno 'ow kids are,” He grabs the kid by his sweater who makes a little squawking noise not too different from his devastatingly posh familiar who would have been really helpful right now.  The kid wriggles a little, trying to claw John's hand away from the sweater.  He pauses and John thinks that maybe, just maybe, the kid had gotten some sense knocked into him.

Unfortunately for him, John Constantine is one unlucky bastard.

With the smarmiest grin plastered on his little face, Ruta slips out of the, admittedly, ill-fitting sweater. The kid basically sprinted back toward the lanterns who, by the way, still looked pissed as all hell. 

"Oh for the love of-" John is honestly going to pop a blood vessel.  He grabs the kid's arm since the kid despite his speed hadn't made it far. 

Ruta did not have the expected reaction.  He froze. Breath seizing. Body going rigid. John thought about letting go but thought better of it. 

"Ruta-" 

Ruta begins to thrash violently and make petulant noises. John rolls eyes even as the kid snarls a few colorful words. "Yer gonna hafta do bettern’ that lad if-"

CHOMP

"Sonuva! Zee, a little help would be appreciated, love,"

"Sorry John, I’ve got no clue about how Maya usually gets him to settle down,"

Well, that helped.

Justice League members gather in bewilderment as they watch Constantine let out a string of curses as he tries to pry Ruta off his arm. The kid's teeth were actually digging into his flesh.  John is pretty sure he would rather be fighting off all the demon's he's encountered over the years than be here, right now, getting his flesh torn.  

Bats and Supes enter the room. Now, John normally didn't give a rat's ass what those two thought but there was a special kind of embarrassment that comes with a tantruming child.  He now had a little more sympathy for people with kids in grocery stores. 

The next few seconds are hard to process. 

Bats discussing something about Earth's defenses with Supes wordlessly walks over to John, pats Ruta on the head,  the kid- miraculously- relinquishes his death grip on John's arm, and in a disturbingly fluid motion Bats scoops him up into his arms, settles Ruta on to his hip, walks back to his conversation as if nothing happened. 

The kid makes a brief distressed noise and a weak attempt at fighting before huffing and wrapping his wreathy little arms around Bats’ neck as Bats rubs circles on his  back. 

God, the kid looked so small all of a sudden. Had Ruta been that tiny this whole time? 

He looked a little relieved aside from his face which was red and screwed up like all his effort  was being devoted to trying not to cry. His breath is still uneven but it was settling down. He’s limp against Bats. For once, he looked like he wasn't about to turn tail and run or to tell someon to fuck off or  bite someone's face off.

Fuck, when was the last time the kid looked so relaxed?

The newer league members watch with a mix of awe and confusion while the older ones shake their head and murmur something about not seeing that in a while. 

It takes a few minutes, the entire conversation actually, for Batman to realize that all his kids are too big for him to comfortably carry like this even with his size. He panics thinking he accidentally kidnapped a young child.  It takes him a moment longer to realize who it is. 

"How the fuck did you manage that?" John finally stiffles out, awe clear in his voice.

Batman glares at John for cursing in front of the kid.

 "Wot? He’s said worse,"

"That’s cus you’re a fucking cunt," Ruta mumbles his cheek still smooshed into Bats' shoulder. Bats looks as stone faced as ever but from the frown tugging at his lips he seemed mortified but he made a grunt that sounded more nostalgic than reprimanding. Batman adjusts his hold on the kid looking like he was honestly debating on whether to keep carrying the kid around and keep working or give him back to the clearly inexperienced Constantine. He decides it was probably best to give him back to Constantine but a part of him just really wanted to keep holding the little one trembling in his arms. When was the last time he held someone this small. It kind of reminded him of when Jason was small right down to the fowl mouth. 

Ruta clearly also doesn't want to let go. Bats is sturdy and surprisingly warm.  He looked like he would cry if he let go. The kid’s knuckles were white from gripping Bats’ cowl for Christ’s sake. Sadly, Igris, his annoyingly posh familiar, shows up from who the fuck knows where. 

 "Little prince, this is no way to behave," He admonishes in an eerie vernacular that was only barely understandable due to exposure. Ruta's face grows hot from embarrassment and with a nod he extricates himself from the caped crusader's arms. 

The kid definitely looks like he's about to cry but he mutters a glum ‘Yes, Count Von Bon Bon’.  

 "Where the bloody hell have you been?" John asked. God, he needed a smoke. 

"I've been watching over Maya as the little prince had asked," John gives him a questioning look. "I got bored" The bird adds, shrugging in an oddly human manner.  

Ruta extricates himself looking sheepish but mostly tired. Kid has probably been stressed and on adrenaline for a while. The sudden feeling of safety just made him crash.  

John hesitantly wraps his arms around the kid. The kid freezes but hugs back hesitantly. John tries to lift the kid but the kid stiffens. John honestly had no idea how to hold this kid. He maneuvered his hands clumsily around the kid. Ruta made no objections but he was clearly uncomfortable. 

 "No. You have to support both of his back and legs. Sometimes you have to lean back a bit to get them to so he leave into you- yeah just like that,"  Bats instructs, sounding oddly gentle. His usual gravel absent. It kind of scared  John, to be honest, so he did his best to follow along.  

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

At some point, Maya shows up after her ‘date’ with Damian- not much of a date when there are a bunch of people watching you- and finds Bruce coaching John on how to hold a tired elementary schooler who was drooling on John's favorite beige coat. She tried her best to stifle a laugh. Thankfully, she didn't have to try too hard. 

 "EXCUSE ME????? B, since when were you a child whisperer?" Dick exclaims as dramatically as humanly possible. Damian and Tim radiated second hand embarrassment while Jason just plays it like he doesn't know his older brother. Maya guessed that if Bruce wasn't used Dick he would be cringing too. 

 "Nightwing, I've had more than 5 children. I believe I know how to handle children,"  

"Uhuh- sure, B.  Whatever you say,"

Bruce makes a neutral grunting noise. 

"Please tell me you're not adopting that one,"

"Of course no-"

"Yeah sure, B,"

"He's- He's Constantines,"

"Tt, father, you are a terrible influence,"

It is a spectacle to watch Bruce's kids team up on him. 

Maya shakes her head and laughs before heading over to John. 

“Well, bring me a biscuit and call me Christy Bats’ was right” He mutters rocking the feral child.  Ruta’s little arms wrap around him a little tighter. 

“‘Course he is, Christy. He’s Batman,” Maya drawls smiling innocently.

"Please never leave him with me again,"

"Dunno, Christy. Looks like you're doing fine,"

tag list:

@idkmanicantenglish (You said any DC content)

@birdy-bat-writes (You enabler)

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[steel-and-fire]

Tagged by: @bells-of-black-sunday <;3 Tagging: @nameaprice, @poisonflowrs, @thegoldentigress, @thornicidxs and whoever wants, idk, i just looked at the dash and picked 4 of you xd

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE?

Of ashes and smoke. Blood, sweat and screams... Okay, but seriously, Igris'Ir has a rather unique scent, it's almost like smelling aromatic smoke, mixed with a light hint of brimstone. He washes himself regularly, and does like using soaps when in a city's comfort, so unless he is drenched in blood, he smells rather nice.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE?

His hands are a little rough, a mixture of his natural texture and hardness of skin, and the years he grew up in the mountains and forests. That said, they aren't harsh, for his natural regeneration prevents calouses and skin deformations from remaining long.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?

Igris'Ir's demand on calories is very heavy. Other than his naturally large body and demanding lifestyle, his bodily magic also demands that he eats a lot. Even magic operates under rules, and the energy to sustain it has to come from somewhere. Starving would severely weaken him and would halten his regeneration. That said, he is a warrior and a hunter, and is trained to survive on minimal food for days, relying on dry meals and rations if he has to. For a healthy day though, he needs a good amount of meat, which he will either buy or hunt himself. He isn't a big vegetable fan, although he likes fruit a lot, and will snack on them often. He additionally enjoys alcohol, but also milk and milk products, and they are often a part of his meals.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE?

Oh, absolutely not. His voice is too hoarse, and attempting to singwill often lead to him spitting a few sparks. His sense of rythme is also attrocious in his normal verse too. His twin sister is a very good singer, but him? Not at all.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS?

Hmmmm...well this asks for bad habits, not traits..So only one comes to mind really strongly. Igris used to have a tendency to not believe in people's care for him or his presence, and so he often disappeared without a word, returning much time later as if nothing happened. It always baffled him why people were pissed at him too, but he is trying hard to improve it now. He doesnt have any real nervous ticks either, other than being an impatient mess of stress when something really concerns him. Which happens rarely, but when it does, it shows.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR?

He can most often be seen in his traveling attire. Carrying spare cloths is difficult, so he only has underwear and sock change with him. He just cleans and buys new cloths regularly, or has a mage clean/repair them. To the point, his attire consists of a sleaveless undershirt, a breastplate with fur collar, gauntlets and gloves, pants and a half skirt over them, and lastly, heavy leather boots. He carries his backpack with essentials on his back, and most often has his axe on his hand when moving around.

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO?

In general? Not at all. Like, not one bit. Igris'ir maintains a certain respectful distance from those around him, and he doesn't like his personal space invaded much. This changes in two occasions. If he is with a partner, or he cares about a person a lot. Then yes, he becomes a ball of insatiable affection, and good luck enduring him. He can suffocate you with it. It is rare, but strong.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?

Due to his horns, he cant sleep on the side, not without a special pillow. So he most often sleeps on his back, sometimes on his stomach, but most often on his back.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM?

Funily enough, no. Despite his size, Igris'Ir is a hunter, his steps are rather silent. He isn't one with the shadows or anything, but his steps are certainly surprisingly quiet, and someonet can easily notice it if they stay around him for a bit.

[laryna6]

I’m not going to start posting Lichverse yet even though I finished the novel because there’s worldbuilding stuff that needs to be changed after the reveal that Igris’ species are born from fruits of the world tree instead of being creations of the Monarchs as per monsters (or maybe the creator made monsters to serve the monarchs but canon doesn’t say so I can have fun) and also while I HAVE figured out when to have Jin-Woo’s chest open so people can see he has two hearts I haven’t given up on working in the creepy cute aesthetic and other stuff I want to do earlier.

Also the reveal that in previous timelines Ashborn zombie apocalypse’d humanity (probably bc we were too squishy to survive being ground zero and he couldn’t protect us so he wanted to gather our souls before we got slaughtered more painfully by other monarchs’ armies and ceased to exist - also bc needed larger army to fight other monarchs and keep Antares from killing him and all his shadows with him) as soon as he took over his new host body. So it makes sense that the rulers would ask a human to find a human host and like Il-Hwan would agree - his family lives in a major city. In the case of shadow blitzkreig, they’re all gonna get turned into undead mind-controlled into adoring Ashborn, nothx. Also the Architect didn’t want to pick Jin-Woo, Ashborn insisted, in times where Jin-Woo wasn’t Like That the Architect would have gotten to pick and would have picked an asshole. So Il-Hwan goes looking for the stuff an asshole would have done to level up in a setting where what happens in a dungeon... and then the monster who has repeatedly slaughtered Il-Hwan’s species like cattle is using his son as a host body.

So yeah, Dad has been highkey Suffering.

But, anyway, here’s the current draft of the first chapter of lichverse. Warning for like, canon-typical stuff + also frottage.

Abandoned by everyone, about to be crushed like a bug…

It seemed as though the stone blade paused for a moment, but maybe it was his perception of time slowing down as his death approached.

It was finally over. His sister… mother! The pain would stop… but Mother would die, and Sister… Sister would have to scrabble like he had. A teenage girl?

He’d sold his body to keep his mother alive. Jin-ah…

As the blade crashed down he fell and was caught. Was cradled.

Darkness… a soothing, cool darkness. No more pain, no more fear. But still… warm. This darkness didn’t have a beating heart, but still…

Jin-woo knew the heart of someone who had lost too much, far too much, and would do anything to protect the precious little they had left. He saw someone like that in the mirror, when he couldn’t avoid it.

This person… would never hurt him. Never let him be hurt. He was safe.

“Return to me,” he heard a voice he knew calling for him, and he knew he would always answer.

A black-armored figure before him, flickering with black and purple light. Too large to be human. A monster. A monster and still when Jin-woo found himself on his feet he took a step towards him gladly, eagerly. A step and another. This feeling… like when his Mom or Dad came home and called his name and he ran to them, happy to see them.

He stopped when he had to crane his head back almost painfully far to meet those glowing eyes – an undead – he was an undead…? And saw the concern in them. For him, for a weakling, for nothing, and he knew he was safe. He’d been so scared, everyone had left him to die alone. But someone… someone came. Someone saved him. The relief sent him to his knees as the last of the stress that had kept him on his feet for so long left him.

Slumping even further forward, he bowed his head and pressed against those armored legs. He trembled, the pain and fear he’d had to suppress for so long escaping his body. Day after day, knowing he was already far, far past his estimated life expectancy. Knowing he was going to die and it was going to hurt, and even if he lived he was going to hurt but he had no choice. There had been no choices since Mom was taken from them too.

And that great figure knelt and put a hand on his head.

That mana… it was terrifyingly powerful, but he knew why it didn’t terrify him. Something he’d tried not to think about for years: the moment he’d awakened, feeling mana, power all around him. Power that dwarfed his, could crush him. But it had never even occurred to him to feel fear, because this was his father. Of course his father was the strongest! Of course he would save everyone!

Instead he’d been so happy, running to his dad and saying he could be a hunter now! Like him! They could beat the bad guys together! And his Dad had patted him on the head and said, “Sorry, but you have to wait until you’re a little older before you can fight anything, and by that time I’ll have already beaten the bad guys that are making the gates appear. So you’ll never have to fight.”

“I won’t get to fight?” he’d asked, disappointed.

“Sorry,” his dad said, patting his head apologetically, but not sorry at all.

His dad… they hadn’t invented the measuring technology until a year after he vanished, so Jin-woo didn’t know how strong he was. It wasn’t until Mother was spending long enough asleep that Jin-woo could go get measured after school that he found out why his dad had fought so hard to keep him from ever having to hunt. He’d been proud of his Dad, believed he would have been an s-class, but… would an s-class really have had such a worthless son? But the mana in his memory, it was so much stronger than the a-class he’d seen once.

His father… His dad really was… tears fell from his eyes, and that hand remained to steady him, that mana still cradled him, as pathetic as he was.

He didn’t know how long he cried there, with loss and pain and fear and gratitude. No one… no one since Mother would have held him as he cried. He couldn’t burden Jin-ah or a stranger like that. If someone reported he wasn’t able to provide for Jin-ah…

That made him open his eyes. “Jin-ah…” he said, a plea. Part of him knowing that this person – monster – would understand how precious she was, how he couldn’t bear to fail her.

“You can return to her,” a deep voice promised him. That… the monster language. Was he still speaking Korean?

“Monsters attack humans,” he said, looking down at his hands, how they flickered with darkness too.

“Because they’re controlled by the Ruler’s crystals… but even without them the subjects of most Monarchs would see your kind as resources to exploit.”

Food.

That hand withdrew and the glowing figure shrunk until he met his own eyes, heard his own voice – speaking Korean this time. “You don’t need to be afraid. You know you will never hurt your sister. Or any of those you love.”

“I won’t hurt her?” he asked again, craving reassurance like a child. Like a weakling (the weakest of the weak).

“Never,” he was promised again, without a trace of irritation at having to repeat himself in his voice.

“I shouldn’t believe you.” Shouldn’t take that risk, with Jin-ah.

“Believe yourself.” This time he was scolded a little. “You went out there to die for her, over and over. You would never hurt her.”

It meant nothing that he went to hunt because it really didn’t do anything… he’d fail her eventually, and then she’d… “I failed her.”

“That was…” the other him – monster – the one who cared for him sighed. “That was my fault. I watched you, and how hard you fought to protect them, the wounds you bore… There was someone I wanted to protect. I fought knowing I would fail them, and yet… but you haven’t failed those you love. I am here because of all your struggle, all your pain and sacrifice.” A bottle appeared, was pressed into his hands. “I watched, I saw you, earn this a thousand times over. With this, you can cure your mother.”

Jin-woo drew in a breath, looking up with startled hope. The other him nodded, and he felt the promise. “You won’t have to be afraid anymore. You’re one of mine now. A human would have to gradually adjust to higher mana levels, but as a shadow I can fill you with my power. That wasn’t…” he sighed. “I was going to possess you, but when the Architect began to cast the curse meant to bring about your death, I couldn’t let him. …but I didn’t have enough of a foothold in that dimension to keep the stone from crushing you.” He scowled at himself. “I should have waited until you were safe, then killed the Architect and undone his curse. I have not done right by you. I’m sorry. You deserve better than than what happened to you. The least I owe you is making sure you can return to your life and your loved ones.”

Jin-woo’s eyes widened. An apology? An admission of fault? A being even stronger than his father, lowering itself to apologize to him? A nothing? The weakest of the weak?

Why? Who could force him to do it? Even S-ranks were beyond the law. He didn’t gain anything from it: his power could crush Jin-woo so easily, and if he could shape-shift then he could take Jin-woo’s place as he’d said he’d planned or maybe send another undead?

His hands curled around the bottle, pulling it to his chest as he began to believe it was real. Because the only reason he could see for this monster to apologize was if, if he really did think that Jin-woo deserved better. And if he deserved anything, then his mother deserved to wake, to live.

“The dungeon will close with the Architect dead. You need to return there and escape, or it will take some time for me to get another foothold in the human world and transport you there. My br-the Rulers are doing their best to shield it.”

He had to hurry. His mother… if it took too long they would take her off life support, and for her to die now, because he didn’t bring her the cure in time…

His mirror image nodded. “Go.”

That mana curled around him, bore him elsewhere, and he heard stone groan and topple to the ground a moment before he opened his eyes to find himself on the altar. Oh no, his foot…

His leg was still there!

…Why was he so surprised by that, when his entire body had been crushed, and yet here he was, intact even if he flickered with black and purple. He started to push himself up so he could get off the altar only for the altar to crumble beneath his palm. He stared down at it.

“…Ah. Humans wield strength only through channeling mana, but as a shadow the strength I’ve given you is yours. Until you can learn to control it, there are artifacts that seal all but a fraction of someone’s power, for negotiations. If I give you a few of them… and I know the curse the Architect designed, perhaps I can modify it…”

A window, like on a computer screen? Appeared before Jin-woo, then changed to show equipment? He felt weight after weight settle on him, then become as light as a feather, as thought it had vanished entirely.”

“The closest I can come is still half again as strong as you were before.”

He was stronger than before and this person was apologizing for it? At any time that thought would have stunned him, but how people treated him didn’t matter, not next to what he held in his hands. “That’ll only make me faster,” JIn-woo said, desperate to go.

The window swung out of his way and he jumped down off the altar. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it change once, then again. A bunch of squares. Inventory, it said? Two rows of those squares filled up with a graphic of.. he looked down. The same bottle he held. And in the lower right corner of the image of that bottle? x999

Was that… a thousand of these bottles per square? A potion that could cure Eternal Slumber? They, they’d be rich! He’d never have to run a dungeon again!

“With your power sealed like this, you’re vulnerable. I’ll send you Igris.” He felt another flare of mana, and a red-armored figure kept pace with him easily. “He has been my right hand since long before I became the Shadow Monarch.”

That feeling… Like Jin-ah. ‘One of the few precious people I have left.’

“He will protect you as if you were me.” Jin-woo turned his head to see an image of his mirror image running beside him. The other nodded to Ignes, who nodded in return.

Next to the other Jin-woo saw the status window. His status window. “So I am an undead… You can bring back the dead?” he realized belatedly. “My, my father…”

“He’s not dead,” the other told him. “He was the vessel of one of the fragments of brilliant light, he wouldn’t have died within a space they control unless there was a monarch there, and I’m keeping track of all of them.”

Jin-woo froze, skidded to a halt. “He’s not…” He trembled. His mother, enough money to secure Jin-ah’s future, even… even his father…

“I will try to find him, but I can’t promise anything.”

Jin-woo shook his head quickly before the other could apologize. Even a chance his father could come home, that he, his mother could see him again! “Yours,” he swore. “I’m yours.” Anything, for this. He sold his life and death and pain over and over just to buy time. To have, to have his family… His soul wasn’t enough. He could never repay this.

Was this why a part of him had felt nothing but devotion towards the other as soon as he fell into has grasp? Had he sensed this in the mana? Or not even this, just… the kindness that made someone willing to give him so much, to give a nothing like him…

“You are not nothing,” the other him insisted as Jin-woo fell to his knees, his gratitude overwhelming him again. “Igris.”

Igris scooped him up easily as breathing, and practically flew to the dungeon exit, carefully placing him on his feet, steadying him the way the other and holding him up when Jin-woo tried to go to his knees again.

“You do not kneel before me,” the other told him. “You never have to kneel before me.”

“But…” but then what could he give? What could he offer? He looked at him with desperation.

“I need you,” he was promised. “I need for your will to protect your family. But I’ll explain later. You should be with your family now.” The other him – the one who felt the same desperate wish to protect – looked down at Jin-woo’s shadow and it filled with hundreds of eyes. “You and your sister should get to see your crea- Your mother again. That’s… You should get to have that.”

And Jin-woo knew that the other would never get to have that, never again.

“You won’t fail them,” his other promised him, forceful and desperate and yearning, and Jin-woo heard you won’t fail them the way I did. “We can talk later, there’s time. Take him home, Igris.”

And giant arms held Jin-woo tight until he found himself in front of his apartment door.

He scrambled for his keys, turned them, flung the door open – half again as strong – “Jin-ah!”

“Jin-woo?” he heard her throw herself out of bed, scramble for her bedroom door and through the living room. “JIn-woo? Are you okay?” she asked him.

That wasn’t important. “Mom,” he said, holding open his arms. “Igris, can you take us both?” Red darkness tried to rise from his shadow but the hall was too small and Igris was forced to appear outside. “I found something that can cure Mom.”

Jin-ah stared at him, mouth slipping open as if to ask him if he was serious but he would never say that unless he was. When she could move, she flung herself at him. As a hunter he could already lift her easily, but it wasn’t just his strength that made everything feel so light right now. “Igris… do you know where she is?”

The red-armored giant shook his head.

“I can give you directions.” He went out the door and Igris lifted them both as if they weighed nothing.

“is he a summon?” Jin-ah asked, breathless. “A healer’s summon? Are they going to cure Mom?”

“That way.” A blur, and when Igris was still again, Jin-woo said, “Sort of? I don’t know how to explain, I want to get to Mom. That way.”

Jin-ah didn’t interrupt again, vibrating with eagerness. She didn’t want to make this take any extra time either.

“That window, there,” JIn-woo said when they were outside of the hospital. Igris sat them down, swept his cloak over them and there they were, in the room.

Jin-woo lifted up the bottle to look at it and a window with a description and directions appeared next to it. She just had to drink the entire bottle? That easy? They were that close? He dodged around Jin-ah to get to the bed, then stopped, forced himself to go slow, to open her mouth carefully. He was stronger than before. He couldn’t hurt her, not like this. Not when they were this close.

A progress bar. Lists of ailments – muscular atrophy, eternal sleep… And everything finished counting down as Jin-ah shook him and asked, “Is it working? Is it working?”

And then she opened her eyes. “Jin-woo…” A moment more, an intake of breath, “Jin-ah?” he saw his mother realize how long it must have been. “Then…” He saw her look past them. He knew who she looked for, who she had watched for for so long.

“He’s alive,” he told her. “He’s alive and I’ll bring him home, I promise.” He could make a promise like that, as weak and pathetic as he was, because he had help.

He saw her look at him and frown, the way she’d frowned when she found out he was doing dungeons. The, ‘Are you kidding me? I’m an adult, we take care of things. Your job is to stay safe and study.’

Study… those potions, they had money, he wouldn’t have to do low-level dungeon runs.

His other self needed him for something and Jin-woo would make it happen no matter what, do anything for the person who gave him this. But… tomorrow wouldn’t be like today. Tomorrow his mother would be home.

A nurse finally arrived, her head downcast and shoulders slumped, and he saw her look up, then stare when she saw his Mother sitting up instead of lying there dead. “I found potions in a dungeon,” Jin-woo told her to forestall questions. “I’ll give you five of them if you let us leave, now.”

“My clothes…?” Mom asked the nurse.

The nurse blinked, “Ah, we returned your clothes to your family…” Because they’d known she was never leaving that bed.

And Jin-woo hadn’t brought anything. He went to the window, yanked it open, jumped out. “Igris?” he asked, then hesitated. He’d just ordered around something – someone – so powerful? Was that really okay? But Igris appeared and swept his cloak over Jin-woo again, and Jin-woo found himself in the entryway at home.

He’d forgotten to even close the door, let alone lock it. Clothes! Right, his mom’s clothes! He threw some of everything into a bag, then ran out and looked up at Igris hopefully. “Thank you,” he said as the cloak swept over him again, putting him in the hospital room.

The fact he’d screwed up by forgetting clothes for his Mom… That was, that was the kind of thing that happened in real life. This was, this was real. He dumped the bag out on Mom’s bed, throwing the clothes down hard enough to make the mattress bounce a little. “Sorry,” he said, but found himself grinning. He hadn’t… He hadn’t failed them

They were okay.

He…

Anything.

Anything.

He’d do anything for them. For this. Maybe he’d been turned into a monster, maybe he was going to be used to kill humans, but who cared as long as Jin-ah and Mom were okay?

He wanted the inventory screen open and it was. Reached and pulled five bottles out, one after another, as the nurse pulled over a curtain so Mom could get dressed.

“They just have to drink it all, every drop,” he told the nurse. “That’s it.”

“Potions are a thing now?” his Mom asked from behind the curtain.

Questions.

Oh shit.

Um.

He did not give a damn what was up with the other him or exactly how dead he was or anything like that, but he could not tell Mom that he died. He was not going to do that to her.

“I think Jin-woo reawakened and he’s a spatial mage now, Mom,” Jin-ah said helpfully. “Pulling those out of thin air is spatial magic, and he’s got a summon that can teleport us.”

She didn’t mention the flickering black and purple at all? Not that Jin-woo was going to bring up anything else he’d have to explain! It seemed ungrateful to claim that Igris was his summon, take credit for everything the other him had done, but it was better than making them worry.

The mana that was in Jin-woo now wasn’t his, but it felt like it could have been his, because the feelings in it… they were all feelings he knew. A lot of them too well. Someone so powerful wasn’t ‘another him,’ but… there were things that were the same. They were akin? Kind of like family.

So he said, “Igris can take us home.” They could be home, instead of having to wait torturous minutes on the subway. For him and Jin-ah it had been too long since Mom had been home. He needed to see her there, and then he’d be able to believe a little more that this was real.

But it helped, when she came out from behind the curtain. It helped so much when she wrapped her arms around him.

When they were home at last one of them wanted to go to sleep. Jin-woo desperately didn’t want his mom to go to sleep, but eventually she told them to get to bed and they went.

Shit. Did he have a bedtime again? He wouldn’t have to ride on public transit out to gates?

…when had he last gotten eight straight hours of sleep?

He’d been trying not to think about it. But he’d known. That he was wearing thinner and thinner. That it was only his youth letting him get away with how hard he was pushing himself. That he couldn’t keep this up forever.

…He lay down in bed and realized he didn’t feel tired at all.

…Did he need to sleep anymore? Mom had fed them, so he knew he could eat, but did he need to? He raised his hand to look at it. How energy flickered around it, but the hand itself didn’t flicker, as though he was solid or real or alive.

Thank goodness he still had body heat, or Mom and Jin-ah would have noticed when they hugged him.

…when had he last been hugged?

He wanted the menu thing open again. The status page. Sung Jin-woo the Enduring. General-class Shadow, Lvl. Max.

Shadow, was that what he was? Igris had appeared out of and vanished into his shadow sometimes, he recalled. ‘General…’ was… so he would need to fight. Something about protecting humans? If that wasn’t a lie.

He knew it wasn’t a lie. His hand went to his heart.

But he wasn’t an idiot, and things too good to be true… There had to be a catch somewhere. The fact he was so certain, the way he loved the other him the way he’d only loved Jin-ah, his mother and his father… He didn’t trust people like this. They knew he was worthless (he was worthless), so they treated him like that and he knew they were going to treat him that way.

But… someone who hadn’t wanted him to die… like his father had wanted to protect him, like his mother had wanted to take care of him, like Jin-ah had decided to be a doctor because she wanted to get better at patching him up… Someone who apologized to him like he was worth apologizing to.

The way his mom had apologized to him for being gone so long, for putting so much on his shoulders. She told him he was strong, was amazing, for bearing it, for doing so well.

In his status screen. ‘The Enduring,’ like he was worthy of a title, of anything.

The other him was something from the gates. That meant a monster. An enemy of humanity. But the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he could trust him. Like family.

Jin-woo frowned.

…No, Dad would absolutely not have had a kid with a monster or something. He felt like he needed to say sorry even for thinking that.

“Igris?” he asked, and the knight appeared, sitting next to his bed in order to fit in his bedroom. “How do I talk to him again? Should I go inside a gate?”

Igris shook his head and raised his cloak again, tilting his head questioningly.

Jin-woo got into a sitting position and nodded. “Thanks, Igris.”

Instead of tensing up he relaxed when he found himself in the darkness, surrounded by the other him’s power. When he saw him. “Thank you,” he said. “I can’t ever thank you enough.”

The other him shook his head. “I’m glad you could have that. Your family, safe for now. I’m glad I was able to help bring it about. There’s still someone missing. I’m limited in what I can do without revealing I’m active. I’m sure the Rulers know since they’ve been using the blood they shed to time-travel, but the monarchs… The Architect was still willing to work with me, but the instant they realize I won’t help them loot your world they’ll go back to trying to make me stay dead.”

“Can they?” Sung Jin-woo asked, eyes widening. Could he lose this person? He couldn’t… to have a chance at having everyone home, and then lose the person who made it possible…

“No power is limitless. Even that of our creator.” The other him touched his replica of Jin-woo’s chest.

“…Do you have a name?” Jin-woo asked, to change the subject. Even if it sounded like he’d need to know about that eventually, he didn’t want the other him to have to try to explain it when there was so much Jin-woo didn’t know that an explanation wouldn’t help when he didn’t have the context for it.

“Ashborn, now. The Monarch of Shadows.”

“So I’m a shadow, and my class is General?”

“Not a class, but a rank.” Ashborn was silent a moment and then said, as though confessing. “Igris’ counterpart was trapped inside a barrier in the last battle. She couldn’t return to my shadow when her body was destroyed and her mana was torn apart. Unless you’re trapped in such a barrier, I’ll be able to bring you back no how many times your new bodies are destroyed. I sent Igris with you in case one of the humans hosting the power of the rulers finds you and realizes you’re mine. He can summon himself, but I must teach you how to quickly remove the limiters reducing your power and call your forces from your shadow.” He waved at the eyes gazing up at Jin-woo from his shadow. Or what pretended to be a normal shadow. “Once you know that much, it should be safe to let you return to the human world. For now. Once you have a serviceable knowledge of necromancy, Igris will teach you to dodge-tank, and after that you can choose your own combat training.”

“So I’ll be fighting?” Jin-woo asked.

“I’m sorry,” Ashborn said, as though that was anything to apologize for. “You will be attacked by all sides for being one of mine.”

And Jin-woo felt Ashborn’s pain in his mana, the pain of an old wound. How many of his had Ashborn lost…?

“But you’re good at surviving,” Ashborn told him, rallying. “I hope… Humans are so peaceful.”

There was soft longing in Ashborn’s voice, so Jin-woo didn’t say anything like, ‘what planet are you from?’ Jin-woo had attended that much school. Even before the gates, humans had huge wars and shit. But if idealizing humanity gave him something to hope for, then Jin-woo wasn’t going to burst his bubble.

“Compared to us,” Ashborn added, and Jin-woo realized that Ashborn’s mana was flowing through him and back into Ashborn. Right. So Ashborn would know his emotions too. “You hope that Jin-ah will never have to fight, not even to defend herself. The fact that you consider this a possibility… But I will show you how to assign her bodyguards.”

Trying to find out what exactly Ashborn wanted from him so he could deliver it on a silver platter could happen later. Protecting Jin-ah? He needed to know how to do that now.

“I will send an army with you, and show you how to summon them. If they are killed, they can be revived again and again, as long as you have mana. Let me give you this, to be sure you won’t be left unprotected.” A still beating black heart appeared in Ashborn’s hands, bleeding white flames.

He stepped forward. He’d had his ribs cut open before. For Mom, for Jin-Ah. Ashborn could do whatever he wanted to Jin-Woo, and he’d just be grateful he could be useful to the person who saved him. Who chose him.

But those hands and the heart just passed through his chest like a ghost’s, and there was no pain, just warmth in his body like drinking a hot cup of coffee on a cold night, and Ashborn’s mana flooding into him now that he could hold so much more of it. “Ah… Ah…” he gasped for breath, feeling that care melt him away, filling him so full it felt like he couldn’t take anymore and then something in him gave way – opened, and he jerked, head flung back, and panted even harder when there was more, the warmth in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach sparking heat that drove him to take a stumbling step forward. Seeking Ashborn, needing him. So amazed at arms around him, someone holding him up, helping him stand and he needed Ashborn. He’d needed someone, so desperate for so long, knowing no one cared but Jin-Ah and he’d die to keep her from having to bear this.

He craved Ashborn desperately, two hearts pounding in his chest loud enough to drown out all other sound.

For so long he’d felt so empty, so numb to everything but the pain of survival and dread of the inevitable, but now he was full, full of love and he wanted, wanted more, wanted to drink down more of what Ashborn gave him and drown in it, drown in him. He pressed against him, panting against his lips, moving his hips as he tried to bury himself inside the body that matched his – Ashborn thought he was pretty enough for it to be worth wearing that face himself, even if Jin-Woo didn’t have the money for plastic surgery and that was one more reason it was impossible to find a job that paid well enough to replace hunting.

Fire filled his veins and only Ashborn could quench it, and his liege held Jin-woo, warm arms around him, warm body against him, giving him everything he needed, letting him have everything he wanted, and more.

More and more, and then without warning white fire burned everything away.

When it receded, Ashborn was still holding him in his arms. “I could feel that you were alright, but you sounded like you were in pain.”

“It was good…” he moaned, hips jerking again, and then horror tried to penetrate through the warm lassitude. Had he just, just rubbed himself off against, against… the one he owed everything?! “I’m sorry!”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should apologize. I knew Baran conceived when his battle-lust reached its peak, I just didn’t realize that the pounding of his heart was connected.”

“Con- con-“

“The Monarchs and Rulers were made capable of bringing forth armies. I… After… I am no longer capable of that. All I can do is preserve what’s left of my children, and shelter the fallen children of others.”

“Am I….?!!” A terrified shriek escaped Jun-Woo.

“I thought your body wasn’t the type that created children?” Ashborn looked down at where their bodies were joined. “Your mother and Jin-Ah are the same type and you’re a different type, yes? Or was it your Dad who created the children and that’s why no more workers were produced to help support the hive after he left?”

“I’m an undead now, so, um…” He buried his head in his hands, feeling really stupid, and in front of Ashborn. He wanted to die. Again.

But Ashborn still held him, Ashborn’s affection and admiration for him still poured through him.

“I’m sorry,” he said though.

“I think it’s admirable, how dedicated you are to taking care of your family. Of course you would want to be sure you hadn’t created a child when you’re still learning to control your own strength and might not be able to protect them.”

Like when people assumed he was some kind of thrill-seeking idiot, Jin-Woo thought ‘I could explain, but I don’t want to have that conversation,” and kept his mouth shut.