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skinwalkingxana · 9 months ago

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Coffee Smell

From @creativepromptsforwriting 's September Monthly Prompts!

This one got away from me a bit (just over 1,000 words!). Featuring my OC from my MgiT/Isekai Dragon Age fic Chaos Theory! I may end up incorporating this into it one day ( or maybe not!)

Why the other three advisor's agreed to hold a meeting this early, Marisol would never understand. The sun wasn’t up yet, and even Chief had grumbled at her, turning around in his bed to go back to sleep instead of his usual demeanor while she got ready for the day. She almost took a blanket with her to wrap herself up in, but could already hear the lecture from Josephine about walking around . So, instead Marisol dressed in the warmest clothes she could and began her trek through Skyhold. The second she pushed the heavy wooden door open, all three sets of eyes fell on her.

“Sorry,” Marisol murmured, voice still heavy with sleep as she tried her best to shut the door behind her as quietly as possible. She failed- the door was so old the hinges let out a long and loud creak, causing her to wince, “ I’m not late am I?”

“No. You’re right on time, actually.” Josephine replied through an exasperated breath.

Marisol knew her well enough now to know that was code for ‘We almost sent a runner after you’. If you’re on time you’re late, if you’re early you’re on time. She hated being late, hated the feeling of making other wait for her, but it couldn’t be helped. She no longer has the luxury of an alarm, and Chief has a routine time he sticks to for his morning walk.

“Yes well, shall we begin?” Leliana took a sip out of her mug after she spoke, delicately cradling it in her hands as she raised an eyebrow signaling for Cullen to begin.

“As you well know, Arl Teagan has offered use of Mulligan’s Quarry so long as we can reclaim it from the bandits that have taken residence there-“

Marisol knew she should have been paying attention, but she felt exhausted. She’s fairly certain this is the earliest she’s ever had to get up. Normally there would be enough time for her to grab breakfast, but it would be some time before that would be served in the hall. It’s been months since she’s had a cup of coffee, too. She could finish an entire pot on her own before, an occasional habit that became more regular when she began her Master thesis. Abuelita used to send her care packages with bricks of Cafè Bustelo, even though Marisol could just as easily walk to the bodega to buy it herself.

Maker, she could smell the smoky boldness of it now, almost taste it even. The memory was so strong Marisol swore the whole war room smelled like coffee. She remembered getting headaches back in Haven from the lack of caffeine, but she’d never hallucinated smelling it. Besides, tea had just enough caffeine that it dulled any sort of withdrawal headache Marisol had.

Josephine had a cup similar to Leliana’s that she was carefully nursing. She brought it to her lips, took a sip, then closed her eyes as if savoring the moment. Suspicious. Marisol watched the two for a moment, then two, before the realization hit her.

“Wait, is that coffee?” Marisol blurted out, interrupting Cullen mid-report.

“It is. My mother just sent a small shipment from our family roaster.” Josephine replied .

“Roaster? Your family has their own personal roaster?” There was no sense in Marisol hiding her disbelief.

“Well… not exactly. The Montilyet’s may be known for our wine, but we also have a smaller investment in a specialty blend of Antivan Roast Coffee. “

Marisol wasn’t sure if what she felt was disbelief that coffee existed in Thedas, or if it was betrayal that it took this long for her to find out. All those months going through withdrawal headaches when there was a source for coffee standing right in front of her.

“Can I.. Have some?” Marisol managed to ask.

“Oh! Of course. Have you had it before? Is this something you had back in your homeland?” Josephine turned to a small tray on the table, pouring Marisol a cup, “I do hope you don’t mind it black, we still don’t have a steady enough supply line for cream but there is some sugar-“

“Josie, I used to drink a pot a day in college by myself.” Marisol took the plain cup in hand, breathing in the scent as she fought the urge to down it in one go. “ If I couldn’t drink coffee plain I don’t think I would have survived.”

“Truly? An entire pot?” Josephine looked surprised. “How did you sleep at night?”

“Well, when you get used to it doesn’t always have the same effect. Whenever I had to pull an all-nighter I sometimes had to have two pots to stay awake, or switch to espresso.”

“I... see. Well, in that case, feel free to help yourself.”

The smell alone was enough to invigorate her. Marisol inhaled the scent one more time, noting a faint nuttiness before taking a small, appreciative sip. It didn’t have as bold of a taste as she was used to, but it was still full-bodied, with a tender note of cinnamon-sweetness to it. It instantly brought a warm smile to her face.

“Oh sweet Maker, not you too,” Cullen rolled his eyes.

“The Commander does not like it.” Leliana bemusedly spoke over her own cup.

“Like it? I don’t know how any of you drink it! It tastes burnt.” He argued.

“Sounds like you haven't had good coffee then,” Marisol took another sip, “And this is good coffee.”

Cullen scrunched up his face in response. “There’s no such thing.”

“That’s fine with me, it means we don’t have to share.” Marisol protectively hid her cup away from Cullen as if he would take it from her as she finished it off.

She hip checked him,-ignoring the fact he was twice her size and wearing metal armor-, before immaturely sticking her tongue out in the process. She moved between where Cullen and the tray of coffee sat, then turned her back to him before topping off her cup.

“Josephine, I will name my firstborn after you if you can get us a regular supply of this.”

The proclamation brought a small blush to the ambassador’s cheeks, “I will see what I can do.”

Marisol heard a rustling of papers behind her before feeling a small whack atop her head. “Hey!”

She turned to Cullen, seeing him fighting a playful smirk behind mock-anger, “Need I remind you we have work to do?

“Does that work involve more coffee?” Marisol managed to raise her arm in defense before Cullen could swat at her again. “Kidding!”

#dragon age inquisition #OC: Marisol Ramirez #my writing #the advisors are all siblings #also Marisol is not Inquisitor #Evie's not here because she's out closing rifts or something I guess #I'm sure my half-antivan Trev would be upset to miss out on coffee #Josie get on the coffee supply chain #dragon age #cullen x oc #<- if you squint #they become friends long before they become lovers #i will finish Chaos theory at some point but this was a nice break from chapter hell #seriously I love Haven so much but intros are awkward #i just want to get to the interpersonal relationships already #but they gotta meet first

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arolesbianism · 1 year ago

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I love how consistent Olivia's fondness of lil critters is even as a printing pod with no memories. Tiny baby living its happy critter life, thank god Olivia can't work directly enough with them to get attached, critter care would become the only thing she'd want to do

#rat rambles #oni posting #its very fun to me just how much more affection she shows to animals than the ppl in her life #both just in general but also I like how it draws a fun parallel between her and jackie with both of them struggling to form bonds with ppl #it gives the vibe that the two clung to eachother partially because they felt somewhat ostracized from most of society #just like in combination with them spending most of their college years and early careers studying time travel and manipulation #they likely werent taken very seriously by their peers and found a strong bond in being the only ones whod take eachother seriously #but after the temporal bow was made and ppl started taking them incredibly seriously rifts started to form between them #especially with jackie as the desire to aim big now that she can took over her thought process #olivia on the other hand didnt have nearly as much power and despite being a respected scientist still had chains in her ambitions #so its kind of understandable that she returned to gravitas despite everything because as shitty as jackie is she is more likely to allow #ambitious projects and also allows work with the various technologies that olivia herself helped developed #anyways I like to imagine olivia liked digging for bugs in her back yard as a kid #and also make routine visits to places with nooks and crannies that lizards and stuff like to hide in

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yourlocalmushroom · 2 months ago

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The Amulet

dpxdc

Damian was nine when his brother died.

Danny had been twelve—older, taller, faster. Wiser, even. At least, that’s how Damian had always seen him. He was the one who ruffled his hair when he was annoyed, the one who taught him the best way to land a hit when sparring. The one who, even in their grandfather’s suffocating world, still managed to make Damian laugh.

And then, one day, he was gone.

Not just gone—erased.

By the time the grief had settled like dust over his shoulders, Ra’s al Ghul had made sure no trace of Danny remained. No files. No photographs. Not even a whisper in the League’s archives. It was as if he never existed.

But Damian remembered.

And he had the amulet.

A small, smooth crystal set into a metal frame, strung on a fine, worn chain. Danny had pressed it into Damian’s palm the night before he disappeared, closing his fingers around it like a secret.

“Keep it close, Dami. No matter what happens—don’t lose this. Promise me.”

Damian kept that promise. Through every sparring match, every mission, every moment he stood as Robin beside his father. He wore it beneath the collar of his suit, hidden but always present. When the world felt heavy, the amulet reminded him he hadn’t imagined it all—hadn’t imagined Danny.

And over time… it started doing more than that.

At first, it was just a feeling—a presence. Every time Damian found himself in danger, the amulet would glow, just barely, almost imperceptibly. He didn’t think much of it. Probably just a trick of the light.

But then the near-misses started.

A blade that should have sliced through his side—dodged at the last second. A bullet meant for his skull—tilted just an inch to the right. A collapsing beam during a mission—falling just shy of crushing him.

Every time, the amulet pulsed, and the next moment, he would move—without thinking, without reason. It wasn’t skill. It wasn’t luck.

It was something else.

And the family noticed.

Bruce had narrowed his eyes every time, watching him with the same calculating look he used when analyzing evidence. Tim had outright asked if he was cheating death. Even Jason—who didn’t believe in magic or miracles—had muttered something about the brat being “too damn lucky.”

Something was wrong.

But then, the real nightmare began.

It started like a whisper—stories of strange phenomena, ripples in reality, beings phasing in and out of existence in small towns and quiet corners of the world. Then the whispers turned into chaos. Entire cities blinked through moments of freezing cold, electronics failed, shadows moved when they shouldn’t.

The Justice League investigated.

What they found wasn’t a rogue metahuman, but an open wound in the fabric of their dimension—and something trying to crawl through it.

Ghosts. Entities. Creatures that bent light and space, beings of ectoplasmic energy that grew restless, aggressive. Some were merely curious. Others were cruel.

And they were looking for someone.

“The King,” one of them rasped through Zatanna’s containment ward. “He is here. We can feel him. His heart beats in this world once more.”

The JL pressed for answers. The ghosts spoke of a kingdom—the Infinite Realms—a place of dimensions layered like veils. Their king had fallen, and now the throne trembled beneath the feet of a usurper. The war had spilled over into this reality in search of the one who might reclaim it.

The king, they said, had been reborn.

But time was running out.

In the weeks that followed, the world became a battlefield. The League, the Titans, the Bat-family—all fought with everything they had. Cities were scarred. Skies turned green under rifts of swirling ectoplasm. And still, the invaders came, stronger, bolder.

Until one night, Damian found himself face-to-face with death again.

He’d leapt in front of a civilian—reckless, impulsive, the way he always was when his blood ran too hot. The specter’s blade moved too fast.

There was no time to dodge.

But the amulet around his neck blazed to life.

Light burst outward in a pulse that made the air shatter. The ghost reeled back, howling in agony, while every other entity across the battlefield froze. A shockwave rippled through them—not of force, but of recognition.

And fear.

Every spectral eye turned toward Damian.

The king is here.

Some screamed in fury. Others dropped their weapons and fled. Those who lingered felt the surge of power that poured from the boy—not his own power, but something ancient, something buried deep in the amulet that now burned white-blue against his chest.

Everything stopped.

The ghosts froze, eyes wide with horror.

"The King," one of them whispered.

Damian barely registered it.

The energy surged through him, crackling under his skin, pulsing with something ancient and vast. He could hear voices—distant, echoing, familiar. The ground trembled beneath him, and for the first time, the invaders fled.

The war was over.

And Damian collapsed.

The League called an emergency summit in the days that followed. Damage had been widespread, but miraculously, there were no major civilian casualties. As cities began to rebuild, questions remained. Chief among them: What exactly had happened?

Robin sat in the meeting chamber, surrounded by the most powerful beings on Earth, saying nothing. His fingers drifted toward his chest—only to find nothing there.

The amulet was gone.

His breath caught, just slightly.

The warmth that had always been there—the anchor to his brother, the quiet hum of protection—it was gone.

Panic swelled in his throat before he even realized he was standing. The conversation around him blurred. Someone called after him, but he was already halfway down the hall, footsteps echoing through marble and steel.

He burst through the balcony doors, heart hammering—and stopped.

The sky was clear. The stars shimmered like tiny mirrors.

And there, leaning against the railing, arms folded, gaze turned upward… was Danny.

Whole. Real. Alive.

He hadn’t aged a day.

The same snow-silver eyes. The same wild black hair that defied gravity. That same presence Damian had only remembered in fragments, in dreams.

Danny turned at the sound of footsteps. His expression softened.

“Hey, Dami.”

Damian felt like the world had shifted beneath his feet.

Danny’s voice was exactly the same. Not older. Not changed. As if he had never left.

"You grew."

The words were soft, fond.

Damian’s breath came sharp and uneven. His body screamed at him to move, to do something—to attack, to demand answers, to hit Danny for making him think he was dead.

But he couldn't move.

Because suddenly, that warm thing in his chest, the one he had ignored for years, the one that had flared to life when he had blown out the candle that morning—

It broke open.

Flooded through him like fire and light, grief and relief, memory and something else—something too big to name.

He had spent years pretending he didn’t feel the ache. Years telling himself it didn’t matter. That his brother had been erased. That he was alone.

And yet, here he was.

Standing in the moonlight. Smiling at him.

Danny existed.

The amulet—the core—had never just been a memory.

It had been Danny.

Waiting.

Returning.

And Damian didn’t know what to do with that.

So he did nothing.

Just stared.

Just breathed.

And Danny just smiled.

Like he had never been gone at all.

#dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp crossover #danny phantom #damian wayne #ghost king danny phantom

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chained-jones-fn · 2 months ago

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@vengeance-jones-fn they updated the list.

#you huge ass bitch (/silly)#rifts and chains #fortnite tumblrverse

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opencommunion · 1 year ago

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"The story of 'John Doe 1' of the Democratic Republic of the Congo is tucked in a lawsuit filed five years ago against several U.S. tech companies, including Tesla, the world’s largest electric vehicle producer. In a country where the earth hides its treasures beneath its surface, those who chip away at its bounty pay an unfair price. As a pre-teen, his family could no longer afford to pay his $6 monthly school fee, leaving him with one option: a life working underground in a tunnel, digging for cobalt rocks. But soon after he began working for roughly two U.S. dollars per day, the child was buried alive under the rubble of a collapsed mine tunnel. His body was never recovered.

The nation, fractured by war, disease, and famine, has seen more than 6 million people die since the mid-1990s, making the conflict the deadliest since World War II. But, in recent years, the death and destruction have been aided by the growing number of electric vehicles humming down American streets. In 2022, the U.S., the world’s third-largest importer of cobalt, spent nearly $525 million on the mineral, much of which came from the Congo.

As America’s dependence on the Congo has grown, Black-led labor and environmental organizers here in the U.S. have worked to build a transnational solidarity movement. Activists also say that the inequities faced in the Congo relate to those that Black Americans experience. And thanks in part to social media, the desire to better understand what’s happening in the Congo has grown in the past 10 years. In some ways, the Black Lives Matter movement first took root in the Congo after the uprising in Ferguson in 2014, advocates say. And since the murder of George Floyd and the outrage over the Gaza war, there has been an uptick in Congolese and Black American groups working on solidarity campaigns.

Throughout it all, the inequities faced by Congolese people and Black Americans show how the supply chain highlights similar patterns of exploitation and disenfranchisement. ... While the American South has picked up about two-thirds of the electric vehicle production jobs, Black workers there are more likely to work in non-unionized warehouses, receiving less pay and protections. The White House has also failed to share data that definitively proves whether Black workers are receiving these jobs, rather than them just being placed near Black communities. 'Automakers are moving their EV manufacturing and operations to the South in hopes of exploiting low labor costs and making higher profits,' explained Yterenickia Bell, an at-large council member in Clarkston, Georgia, last year. While Georgia has been targeted for investment by the Biden administration, workers are 'refusing to stand idly by and let them repeat a cycle that harms Black communities and working families.'

... Of the 255,000 Congolese mining for cobalt, 40,000 are children. They are not only exposed to physical threats but environmental ones. Cobalt mining pollutes critical water sources, plus the air and land. It is linked to respiratory illnesses, food insecurity, and violence. Still, in March, a U.S. court ruled on the case, finding that American companies could not be held liable for child labor in the Congo, even as they helped intensify the prevalence. ... Recently, the push for mining in the Congo has reached new heights because of a rift in China-U.S. relations regarding EV production. Earlier this month, the Biden administration issued a 100% tariff on Chinese-produced EVs to deter their purchase in the U.S. Currently, China owns about 80% of the legal mines in the Congo, but tens of thousands of Congolese work in 'artisanal' mines outside these facilities, where there are no rules or regulations, and where the U.S. gets much of its cobalt imports. 'Cobalt mining is the slave farm perfected,' wrote Siddharth Kara last year in the award-winning investigative book Cobalt Red: How The Blood of the Congo Powers Our Lives. 'It is a system of absolute exploitation for absolute profit.' While it is the world’s richest country in terms of wealth from natural resources, Congo is among the poorest in terms of life outcomes. Of the 201 countries recognized by the World Bank Group, it has the 191st lowest life expectancy."

#antiblackness #colonialism #imperialism #turtle island #congo #library

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lesbianwyllravengard · 3 months ago

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I think if Anders was the Inquisitor it would be super fucking funny for many reasons. I still don't know much da lore so pretend it makes sense lore wise even if it doesn't. I just think the Guy Who is On the Run for Bombing the Local Chantry accidentally becoming the Herald of Andraste is an insane idea. why was Anders at the Conclave. was it to make sure mages were well represented. was it to repeat Kirkwall if the mages weren't well represented. who knows point is, he's there and he has a plan but as he's roaming the halls he hears The Divine calling out for help and what the hell he has to find out what's going on. Domino effect of canon events happen and suddenly he wakes up in chains with Cassandra standing over him and asking for his name. And he says Anders because he still can't remember where he even is. And Cassandra is like oh my fucking God you're Chantry Bomber Anders from Varric's story. Of course you killed the Divine. And Anders is like wdym I killed the Divine. But he sounds a little too excited about it so Cassandra just gets angry. And then later they meet up with Varric and Solas and Varric is like holy shit it's Chantry Bomber Anders. What are you doing here Blondie. And Anders is like hey Varric, this scary woman says I killed the Divine. But again he sounds a little too excited about it so Cassandra gets more mad, but Solas uses Anders's mark to close the rift so now she has to keep Anders alive. And then the people of the Inquisition decide Anders is the Herald of Andraste and Cassandra has to believe Chantry Bomber Anders was sent by Andraste for some fucking reason. And Anders's faith was already rocky after Kirkwall but now this whole thing is a joke to him. Hi my name is Anders, that's short for Andraste's Herald. I am Maker Sent. Yes I blew up the Kirkwall Chantry, because God says to Free All Mages. And Cassandra still hates him and Cullen is still scared of him and the Chantry is mad that he's using Andraste's name but the people of the Inquisition believe he is Maker Sent so he has to stay and basically gets diplomatic immunity from Chantry retaliation. He sides the Inquisition with the Mages and tells the Templars to kill themselves so everyone is even more mad at him. Except the Mages who are finally accepting him as their revolutionary leader. imagine Cassandra's face when Leliana suggests making Anders the Inquisitor. of course he gets up there and is like I'm doing this for all Mages! And the mages are like Yay, we love Inquisitor Chantry-Bomber-Anders! And then Hawke shows up and she's like there you are Anders, my mentally ill wife, the children miss you. and Anders is like look Hawke I'm the Inquisitor now, and Varric is also here and he fights by my side again. And Varric is like no I babysit you for Hawke, there's a difference. And since Anders was a Grey Warden, when they're like we need information on the Grey Wardens he's like actually I can help with that personally. Of course I still hear Corypheus screaming in my head, but Hawke has yelled at me louder before so I'm fine. And he doesn't even get the choice between leaving Hawke or Stroud in the Fade because he wouldn't let Hawke die ever no matter what. There's also loads of chances for the Inquisitor to hate on blood magic and the chantry that I think really suit Anders. And he'd love to tell Cassandra that the Chantry sucks and should die. But anyways all that to say I think it'd be incredibly hilarious if the guy who is on half of Southern Thedas' shit list for bombing the Chantry suddenly became Jesus Part Two and more of a recognised religious figurehead than the Divine herself had been.

Edit: click the "Inquisitor Chantry Bomber Anders" to see me play dai as Anders

#Anders #Dragon age #Da #Handers #fhanders #Dragon age inquisition #inquisitor chantry bomber anders #<- tag in case anyone seeing this post wants to see me play dai as Anders

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cokoakeostuff · 3 months ago

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I noticed that you added Echoes of Wisdom Link to the lineup of Links on your pinned post.

First of all, I just wanna say that I love his design. I especially love the way you designed his cloak. Second of all, do you have any lore/info about him that you can share? Do you have any nicknames for him? And is there a lore reason for his eyes being purple, or is that just a design choice?

I WAS PLANNING TO INTRODUCE HIM IN THIS UPDATE BUT i just ran out of time whoops, I added him as an easter egg but im too impatient to wait for the next update to tell u about him.

When I started my AU I hadn’t played EOW yet but I finished the game in January so… I really wanted to add him to the chain, after all my au was born after the idea of what if every link meets? Without him this would be incomplete.

His eyes are a side effect of spending a lot of time in the rifts, so looking at his eyes is like looking at the void.

#the legend of zelda #keo’s ask box #link fanart #loz eow #eow zelda #tloz fanart #tloz art #tloz #loz fanart #hero’s paradox #tloz au #echoes of wisdom #eow link

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sulkingheichou012 · 3 months ago

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Into the Dungeon with You

Pairing: Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: RomCom, Action, Future Smut

Warning: Description of violence and profanity.

Summary: Jinwoo frowned as a new system notification appeared before him.

[Special Reward Successfully Claimed.]

Author's note: I'm happy that some of you are enjoying my silly work! Yes, if you're asking to be tagged—sure! 😊

This chapter’s going to be a long one—hope you’re ready!

Chapter 10

It was late evening. The world had bought itself a few hours of peace—no monster gates, no sky rifts, no screaming alarms. The S-Rank Hunters were either stationed or recovering, and Jinwoo’s shadows were patrolling the perimeter like silent guardians.

Inside Jinwoo’s apartment, it was oddly quiet. Y/N sat curled up on the couch, legs tucked under her, staring at the faint reflection of herself in the dark window. She’d been quiet like this since the last battle. Not just tired, but distant.

Jinwoo watched from the kitchen, leaning one hip against the counter. He held two mugs, debating if she’d even want the hot chocolate he made her. She loved it. She always said it reminded her of home.

But she didn’t turn around. Didn’t smile. Didn’t even react when Beru peeked his head through the door with an awkward little wave. (She usually laughed when Beru did that.)

He sighed and crossed the room.

“You’re thinking too much again,” Jinwoo said quietly, setting one mug down in front of her. She blinked, as if pulled from deep water. “Sorry,” Y/N muttered. She curled her hands around the mug but didn’t drink.

Jinwoo sat down across from her, elbows on his knees. Her silver eyes flicked up and met his for a moment. “I’m not from here,” she said. “I keep asking myself why I’m even here at all.”

“You’re here because I summoned you,” Jinwoo said, his tone carefully neutral. “You’re my reward.”

“That sounds so... dehumanizing,” Y/N said, a dry laugh escaping her lips. But it didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’re more than that.” Jinwoo’s voice was lower now. His fingers curled tight on his knee. “You’re not just a reward,” he added. “You’re my wild card.”

She snorted. “Yeah. A wild card. Something unpredictable. Dangerous.”

“You saved people,” Jinwoo said. She flinched.

“But,” she whispered, “what if I’m the reason people die next time?”

Jinwoo leaned forward. His gaze was steady, dark eyes holding hers like iron chains. “If anything tries to make you the reason people die,” he said slowly, deliberately, “I’ll destroy it.”

She stared. And Jinwoo realized—he meant it. Every word. He’d burn the world for her.

Y/N sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Her fingers tightened around her mug. “You’re dangerous, Jinwoo,” she whispered and chuckled. “You make it hard for me to think straight.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Why?”

She bit her lip. “Because... if I stay here too long, I’ll stop wanting to go back.”

She glanced away. “You have people here, Jinwoo. Jinah, your mother, Hae In, Joohee, Even Jinho and his weird crush on you.”

Jinwoo blinked. “What.”

She gave a breathy laugh. “My point is… I’m not really part of this. Not like they are.”

But Jinwoo was already shaking his head. “You are,” he said, voice low. “You’re part of my world.”

Y/N stared at him. And for the first time… she didn’t know what to say.

A few days later, the world was changing—and fast.

After the appearance of the mysterious Monarch, portals had begun opening at an alarming rate across every continent. Cities buzzed with fear. Hunter Guilds scrambled to protect people. Even the world governments were begging for cooperation from the Hunter Association. Every hunter, active or retired, was summoned.

Now, in the silence that followed, the world’s strongest Hunters gathered. The surviving Hunters, the lower ranks who had fought tooth and nail, watched in awe as legends stood together.

Choi Jongin of the Hunters Guild, cool and composed in his long white coat. Baek Yoonho of the White Tiger Guild, arms crossed over his broad chest. Go Gunhee, his presence still dignified despite his frailty. Thomas Andre of Scavenger Guild, towering and golden-haired, exuding raw physical power. Liu Zhigang of China—the Dragon of the East, as strong as an entire nation’s military, eyes as sharp as blades.

Among them stood Cha Hae In, her eyes calm and sharp, standing beside Jinwoo for a moment before stepping forward to help clear the battlefield.

Jinwoo’s sister, Jinah and his mother, were being evacuated with the other civilians. Yoo Jinho, always eager, had stubbornly stayed behind. His determined face peeked out from under his helmet, ready to assist wherever Jinwoo ordered. And then there was Joohee, who insisted on healing the injured despite no longer being active in raids.

Y/N stood quietly, absorbing the moment. Her scythe rested against her shoulder, black steel shimmering faintly. She inhaled, steadying herself. The adrenaline had faded, and in its place, a raw awareness of everything happening.

Her head was still spinning.

But her spirits lifted the moment she saw them. Her eyes lit up as if she were a kid meeting her favorite idols. “Whoa… they’re even cooler in person!” she thought, resisting the urge to fan herself. Her gaze lingered on Liu Zhigang. Tall, deadly, calm... “Mmm, no wonder he’s famous,” she mused. “And Choi Jongin... that coat! He looks like he walked out of an anime!”

Jinwoo noticed. Oh, he noticed. His jaw clenched a little tighter. His shadows stirred around his feet, darker, thicker, like an aura of smoke. He stepped a little closer to Y/N. Subtle. Protective. Definitely territorial.

“Focus,” Jinwoo said coolly. “I am focused,” Y/N replied innocently. She wasn’t, but he didn’t argue.

And then the sky cracked open.

From the red portals poured endless monsters. Wyverns, giants, grotesque insectoid beasts—an entire army descended on the city. Civilians screamed, Hunters mobilized.

But it was Jinwoo and Y/N who stood at the front.

Bellion raised his sword and led Igris, Iron, Beru, and Tusk into the fray. The Shadow Legion charged without hesitation, their numbers endless.

Y/N’ eyes hardened. She was different now. Gone was the nervous girl who clung to Jinwoo’s shadow for protection. She gripped her scythe, its black steel glinting with violet runes. When she stepped forward, her body was wreathed in shadows. Her aura flared—a deadly, cold presence. Her silver eyes burned bright.

The battlefield was chaos incarnate—roaring monsters spilling out of ruptured portals, hunters scattered across ruined city blocks, and Jinwoo’s shadows fighting to keep the tide at bay. Amid it all, Y/N danced in and out of the fray, a dark blur of speed and precision, her scythe trailing arcs of black energy with every lethal swing.

But even the best slip sometimes.

A massive wyvern-like beast, all jagged scales and gnashing teeth, swooped in from above. Its tail—spiked and heavy—whipped toward her with terrifying force. Y/N moved to dodge, but the tip caught her weapon mid-swing. With a resounding clang, her scythe was torn from her grip, sent spiraling through the air like a shooting star before it crashed into a far-off building with an explosion of debris.

For a split second, the monsters faltered. Then they saw her—empty-handed.

A guttural laughter rippled from their ranks. One of the larger beasts, an ogre-like thing with molten cracks in its skin, rumbled something that sounded like mockery.

“She’s nothing without that toy,” it sneered.

Y/N stood there, staring at her empty hands. Her chest rose and fell slowly. Too slowly.

Jinwoo, fighting further ahead, turned his gaze back for a heartbeat. His eyes narrowed, but he made no move to intervene.

Y/N flexed her fingers, curling them into fists. The air seemed to tighten around her. Crack. The sound of her knuckles popping echoed louder than it should have. Her shoulders rolled back in a slow, predatory stretch.

Then she smiled.

One moment she was standing there, the next, she was in front of the ogre. A flicker of shadow, a blink of speed that even the monsters couldn't track. She drove her fist into its gut, a bone-shattering punch that sent a shockwave through its massive frame. The ground cracked beneath them from the sheer force. The ogre’s mocking sneer twisted into something confused… then terrified.

Y/N didn’t stop.

A brutal knee to its jaw snapped its head back. She grabbed it by its cracked tusks and wrenched, twisting its neck with an audible snap that made even Iron—watching nearby—nod in silent approval.

The other monsters surged forward, but she was already moving again. Her fists and feet struck with terrifying precision. Every hit was brutal, efficient—calculated chaos. Ribs crunched beneath her blows. Skulls cracked under her shadow-step kicks. Her shadow synchronization was still faintly active, giving her speed and instinct that made her almost a mirror of Jinwoo himself.

She wasn’t fighting like someone trained. She was fighting like someone born for this.

A lesser monster lunged, and she sidestepped, catching its wrist and twisting it until bone jutted through its flesh. She kicked it away and then—

She raised her hand.

The air around her shimmered with invisible threads of power. Ruler’s Authority. A faint hum built up, like a magnet pulling something across an endless distance.

Her scythe.

From across the battlefield, buried in rubble, the weapon quivered. Then it shot through the air, spinning like a deadly boomerang straight into her waiting hand with a satisfying slap.

The moment it touched her fingers; it flared with dark energy. Y/N rolled her wrist once, spinning the scythe effortlessly around her back and over her shoulder like it was weightless. Her gaze flickered to the remaining monsters, her eyes glowing that familiar, haunting violet—the same as Jinwoo’s.

She took a single step forward and whispered to herself, “Time to clean up.”

And she did.

With one slash, the scythe cut clean through a row of monsters, their bodies disintegrating into shadowy ash before they even hit the ground. She twisted, shadow-stepping behind another group, appearing like an angel of death, silent and graceful, before slicing through them like they were paper dolls.

Somewhere in the distance, Jinwoo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He watched her—his wildcard, his queen—carving through the battlefield without hesitation.

“She’s terrifying,” Yoo Jin Ho muttered nearby, in awe.

Cha Hae In nodded quietly. “…Beautiful.”

Jinwoo nodded slowly, his lips twitching into something caught between a smile and a sigh. “Yeah… and she’s mine.”

But his gaze lingered on her longer than it should have, concern flickering behind his eyes. How much longer? he wondered. How long before she’s gone?

Y/N, meanwhile, was already moving toward the next group, scythe spinning in a lazy arc over her shoulder like she hadn’t just committed absolute slaughter with her bare hands.

And she was grinning again.

The other Hunters on the field—Choi Jongin, Baek Yoonho, even Thomas Andre—paused for a heartbeat to watch. Liu Zhigang narrowed his eyes with interest. “She’s dangerous,” he murmured. “Like him.” Choi Jongin nodded. “And efficient,” he added. “Like a Reaper.”

Jinwoo heard them. He smirked faintly. But his gaze stayed locked on her.

And then Y/N kicked.

“Damn…” Thomas Andre let out a low whistle.

A massive ogre charged her from the side. She didn’t flinch. She pivoted on her heel and launched a devastating roundhouse kick right into its temple. The blow was powerful enough to send the ogre’s skull caving in—and its massive body flew backwards like a ragdoll, crashing through two buildings.

“Woah…” Choi Jongin adjusted his collar. Thomas Andre cracked a grin. “She’s got a hell of a leg.” Liu Zhigang’s sharp gaze flickered back to Jinwoo. “No wonder you keep her close.”

Jinwoo’s lips twitched. Damn right, he thought.

“Impressive work,” Liu Zhigang said in his deep, composed tone.

Y/N turned. He was standing directly in front of her now, taller and broader up close. His arms were crossed behind his back, his gaze calm and direct. “You move like someone who’s fought for a thousand years,” he added.

Y/N froze. Her face went up in flames. “Oh! Uh—thank you! You, too! You look like... like you can support me financially!” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

For a split second, silence.

Choi Jongin choked on his breath. Baek Yoonho coughed into his fist. Thomas Andre let out a bark of laughter, clapping Liu on the back. Liu Zhigang tilted his head, amused. “Is that a proposal?”

Y/N, still furiously red, tried to backpedal. “I mean—! No! I mean—That’s not—!”

Jinwoo was right beside her in an instant.

His shadows flared ever so slightly, tendrils creeping like dark smoke at his feet. His hand landed casually on her shoulder—but the squeeze was firm. “She’s mine,” Jinwoo said with his usual cold tone. The words slipped out before he realized what he was saying.

Choi Jongin’s brow quirked. Baek Yoonho smirked knowingly. Thomas Andre chuckled deep in his chest. Liu Zhigang’s smile widened faintly, amused. Y/N, for her part, blinked at Jinwoo. “Yours?” He coughed. “I mean… part of my Guild.” he added when Cha Hae In glanced his way, eyebrow raised.

“Ah,” Y/N replied, unconvinced. She glanced up at him, noticing the faint muscle ticking in his jaw. She opened her mouth to speak—but decided against it. For once.

But just as the dust settled and Y/N took a breath, the air around her shifted again. No portal. No monster. Something… else.

Jinwoo’s sharp gaze caught it immediately.

A presence. Ancient. Cold. Watching.

Bellion froze mid-swing. Igris’ blade wavered. Even Beru, snarling with a wyvern’s throat between his claws, suddenly stilled.

“Did you feel that?” Jinwoo muttered.

And then Y/N felt it too. A weight pressing against her mind, like invisible fingers rifling through pages that were never meant to be read.

The world was still and silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

And then the portal opened.

A jagged tear ripped through the blood-red sky. From within, Raizel, Monarch of Origin, emerged—tall, imposing, and as eerily calm as before. But something about him had changed. His obsidian armor pulsed faintly with violet veins, as though it were alive. His silver hair blew gently in an invisible breeze, and his eyes—violet, deep, endless—held a strange sadness… and resolve.

Jinwoo’s expression hardened. He took one step forward, his shadow soldiers bristling behind him. Bellion's hand was already on his blade.

But Raizel’s attention wasn’t on them.

It was on her. Y/N.

“Are you ready to leave?”, Raizel asked softly, almost gently. as if testing her resolve.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Her hand reflexively gripped her scythe tighter. “I have a place here,” she managed to say, voice trembling but determined.

Raizel smiled faintly. “You still don’t understand. But we are leaving.” His next words slid in like a knife, soft but absolute.

Jinwoo moved without warning. He blurred into motion, crossing the space between them in an instant, his fist wreathed in dark mana. Raizel caught the blow with one hand, the ground cracking beneath their feet from the force. “You’re stronger,” Raizel murmured, his eyes flickering to Jinwoo. “But you still don’t know who you’re protecting.”

Jinwoo bared his teeth. “I know enough.”

They fought in a blur of motion and power, Jinwoo’s black flames colliding with Raizel’s eerie violet energy. Shockwaves rippled outward. The earth quaked. Bellion and the other shadows formed a perimeter around Y/N, but she pushed forward, her scythe raised.

She couldn’t just stand there.

But no matter how fast she moved, she couldn’t keep up with them. Their battle was on another level.

The air crackled with suffocating pressure as Jinwoo and Raizel faced each other once again. Shadows coiled beneath Jinwoo’s feet, swirling like a tidal wave on the verge of crashing, while an oppressive, ancient aura radiated from Raizel—cold and heavy as a funeral bell.

High above the ruined city, several S-Rank hunters watched from a distance, frozen in place.

“This… this isn’t a battle between hunters,” murmured Choi Jongin, sweat trailing down his temple despite the freezing winds Raizel’s power exuded. His fingers tightened around his staff, knuckles pale. “This is something else entirely…”

Cha Hae In pressed a hand to her chest, struggling to steady her breathing. “It’s like... they’re tearing reality apart,” she said quietly. Even she, who had fought beside Jinwoo many times, had never seen him release this much power.

Liu Zhigang grimaced, forcing himself to stand upright as his knees threatened to buckle. His lips twitched into a strained grin. “And here I thought I’d seen monsters before.”

Nearby, Baek Yoonho fell to one knee with a grunt, his beast-like senses screaming at him to run. “What the hell are they…?” he muttered under his breath.

Even Go Gunhee, watching through a monitor in the Hunter Association’s war room, let out a low breath. “This… is a clash between gods.”

The sky itself seemed to warp between them, dark clouds spiraling as Raizel raised his hand toward Y/N. Jinwoo’s shadow burst forward at the same instant, his killing intent a tangible wave that nearly drove the observing hunters to their knees.

And then, the rematch began.

Jinwoo struck with brutal precision, aiming to end it quickly. Raizel deflected and countered with equal skill, never losing that maddening calm.

And then Raizel was there—suddenly standing in front of Y/N, his hand outstretched. “Come with me.”

Jinwoo’s roar split the air. In an instant, he was between them, slamming into Raizel with a force that sent the ancient monarch flying into a distant ridge.

“I.SAID.DONT.TOUCH.HER,” Jinwoo growled.

Raizel returned, slower now. He brushed dust from his armor as if they were having a civilized conversation. “You don’t understand what’s coming,” he said to them both. “You are both children playing at power.”

Jinwoo advanced again, but Raizel raised a hand. “Listen. For her sake.”

Jinwoo stopped. Barely.

Raizel’s gaze found Y/N again. This time, his expression softened with something close to pity. “You were not meant to be here as you are now. You… are older than time itself.” Y/N blinked, completely lost. “I don’t—”

Raizel continued. “Ashborn chose you, long before you ever woke in this world. You are the Balance Keeper. The one who exists to prevent the collision of realms. When the Rulers and Monarchs waged their ancient war, there was one who maintained equilibrium between them. You.” He took a step closer, slowly, deliberately. “You were the reason why neither side could destroy the other completely. You kept the worlds in balance. But the Primordial Hunger—what they called the Devourer—wanted to consume all creation. You sacrificed yourself to stop it. You sealed it away and disappeared from existence.”

Y/N shook her head. “No… I was just an ordinary person… I… I lived a normal life before this.”

“You were reincarnated, Ashborn failed you. And you were left wandering… lost.” Raizel said simply. His hand curled into a fist. “Sent to a world outside of this war. But now that you’re here, the seal is weakening. The Hunger is waking.”

Jinwoo’s stomach twisted. Y/N wasn’t just someone lost between worlds. She was… necessary.

If Raizel was telling the truth, she was the key to the survival—or destruction—of everything.

Jinwoo’s grip tightened. Does this mean she has to leave? To fix this?

Y/N looked at him, panic in her eyes. “Jinwoo… what am I supposed to do?”

His heart ached at the desperation in her voice. He wanted to protect her, to keep her here, safe. But… Was his protection keeping her from saving everything?

Raizel spoke again, breaking his thoughts. “You belong with me, Y/N. I can show you how to reclaim your power. We can restore the balance together.”

Y/N took a shaky breath. And then she shook her head. “No.”

Raizel’s calm expression finally cracked. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

Raizel moved faster than before, his power surging. He aimed directly for Y/N. But Jinwoo was ready.

He slammed into Raizel with a vicious punch that cracked his obsidian armor. Raizel staggered but retaliated immediately. The two clashed again, each blow leveling the ground around them.

Y/N tried to intervene. She raised her scythe—but Raizel anticipated her. In an instant, he teleported in front of her, his hand inches from her face.

Y/N gasped.

But Jinwoo was faster. He Shadow-Stepped between them, his black wings spreading wide, and drove his fist into Raizel’s chest with devastating force. Raizel flew backward, skidding across the broken earth.

Raizel coughed, wiping blood from his lip. “You’re too late,” he said quietly.

“What does that mean?” Jinwoo demanded.

Raizel’s violet eyes fixed on him. “The Primordial Hunger is awake. You’ll both beg me to save you soon enough.”

A portal of twisting darkness opened behind him. Raizel took one last look at Y/N, his gaze filled with a strange sorrow. “Remember who you are.”

And he vanished into the void.

Y/N collapsed to her knees. Her scythe fell to the ground beside her. She stared blankly at her trembling hands. “What am I supposed to do…?” she whispered.

Jinwoo stood there for a long moment, watching her. He knelt beside her, his hand covering hers. “You do what you want,” he said quietly. “And I’ll destroy anything that tries to stop you.”

Y/N looked at him with wide, broken eyes. “What if I’m the reason the world ends? What if I’m the cause of all this?”

Jinwoo’s expression darkened. For the first time, he felt something deep inside him break. He pulled her into his arms and whispered fiercely, “Anyone who makes you cry… I’ll kill them myself.”

That night, Jinwoo dreamed again.

Ashborn stood before him in the endless dark. His hollow, ancient voice echoed in Jinwoo’s mind. “You are late, my successor.” And then he turned. Far away in the darkness, something moved. Eyes older than time opened… And the Primordial Hunger awoke.

Dear Diary,

I’ve officially peaked… or hit rock bottom. It’s a fine line. Today, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to practice my shadow-stepping. You know, teleporting like a badass. Poof, I disappear. Poof, I reappear. Super cool, right?

WRONG.

I meant to teleport into the kitchen for snacks. I was dreaming of those little chocolate pies Jinwoo hides on the top shelf (I see you, Shadow Monarch, hoarder of desserts)… but NOPE. I shadow-stepped straight into the bathroom. And not just any moment. Jinwoo. Was. In. The. Shower.

I swear the universe paused. Water trickling down. Steam swirling everywhere. His hair slicked back. Those ridiculous muscles. And he turned— HE TURNED AROUND. We made eye contact. I died. I ascended. My soul left my body.

Jinwoo: “…Y/N?” Me: “I… I WAS HUNGRY!” And then I panicked and shadow-stepped AGAIN… but guess what? I was so frazzled, I ended up outside. On the roof. In the rain.

After like ten minutes, he opened the window, holding a towel around his waist, looking way too calm, and just said, "At least knock next time?" KNOCK?! EXCUSE ME?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN "JUST KNOCK," JINWOO?! LIKE I'M ALWAYS INVITED TO—WHAT?! HELLO?! I CAN'T EVEN PROCESS THIS—ARE THERE RULES NOW?! WAS I JUST PROMOTED TO "CASUAL VISITORS ALLOWED DURING SHOWER HOURS" STATUS?!

Anyway. Moral of the story:

No more teleporting without supervision.

Jinwoo’s shampoo smells like cedar and danger.

I need to move. To another planet. Preferably one where I don’t have functioning memories.

Sincerely dying,

Y/N

Eyes? Blessed. Regretting? Not looking down. Y/N, you fool, YOU HAD ONE JOB.

<< Chapter 9 | Chapter 11 >>

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