#Poison Chance Active

[thesmokinpossum]

Gypsy Rose Blanchard is finally gonna be released from prison :')

[mywritersmind]

HE’S SICK OF IT? - LN4

summary : Lando’s had enough with your people pleasing attitude and goes off about it. And here you thought he just hated you…

listen up : reserve driver x lando norris!!!! people pleasing activities plus swearing. so i wrote this in art class

words : 785

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“You’re unbelievable.” I didn’t even realize someone else was in here. Dressed in his race suit, water in hand, Lando Norris shakes his head at me. What the hell is he doing here?

“What did I do now?” It’s been months of this shit. He doesn’t like me, never has. This fact only made me hate him more.

“You’re being pushed around so easily.” I scoff at the sudden attack, crossing my arms over my chest and realizing he just saw me accept intern work from a kid four years younger than me. “Are you that naive? Or do you just get off on doing other people’s dirty work?”

My guard is up in an instant. “You really want to go there? At least I'm not like you. Pushing people around when it suits you best-”

“That’s not what I do. Open your eyes and listen the fuck up. I know my worth.” His face is hard, staring me down now as he walks closer. “You just lie to yourself.”

I take a breath, “I am a good person.”

He nods slowly, his look filled with sarcasm, “Yeah you’re a great person who lets herself get beat up by someone below her.”

“Below me? Are you hearing yourself?” I know I shouldn’t be giving into his aggression but I can’t help it.

“Are you?” He shouts back.

“You are such an asshole! Just say you fucking hate me and move on!” I groan, running a hand through my hair, “It’s ridiculous, Norris! You barely know me yet all you do is bitch and moan about me!”

“Yeah because I’m sick of your people pleaser bullshit.” What the hell? He’s sick of it? He’s yelling now, “You’re a big fucking deal. Act like it.” His voice is stern, his face inches away from mine.

I can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t even yell at him because I know he’s right.

He breathes out, his volume lower as my eyes lock onto the floor, “I don’t hate you. I hate how I seem to be the only person who sees you as more than an excuse.”

His words hit me like a train. The one person I can’t stand, the one person who can’t stand me, is the one who’s sticking up for me.

It’s fucking pathetic. Tears threaten my eyes that are still glued to the floor.

A soft touch meets my chin, forcing it gently up so I'm looking at him. I blink and am met with his soft green eyes.

“You’re a driver, Y/n.”

I let out a shaky breath, “I’m a reserve.”

“Do you drive a formula one car or not?” He snaps partially. I nod. “And you drive it better than the kid in your seat.”

I can’t help but laugh now, tears falling down my face but not getting the chance to meet my uniform because they’re being pushed away by Lando’s thumbs. “You can’t say that.” I sniff.

“I can say whatever I want.” I roll my eyes at him, “You know why?”

I blink at him, “Because you’re a big fucking deal?” His grin is wide and mischievous.

“You’re getting it now.” He seems to remember his hands are on my skin, my eyes dry now and my face getting progressively hotter. He drops his hands to his side as if I was made of poison. “I uh- I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I play into it, “Well you did.”

“I’m sorry.” His words confuse me, I almost laugh.

“Is Lando Norris-” he’s already rolling his eyes, “The Lando Norris, apologizing?” He steps back but he’s smiling.

“Don’t get used to it.”

I stand up straighter, “I hope you won’t make me cry again.”

“If I do, it’ll be on track.” God his smile…

“I’m looking forward to you trying.”

“So uh…” he scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking nervous, “you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You were right.”

“Well I'm always right.”

I raise a brow, “Maybe we both need to work on our attitudes.” He smiles.

“Maybe we can over a drink.” He says it so casually that it doesn’t hit me until seconds later. Did he just ask me out?

“Hm…” am I dreaming? “You asking me out, Norris?” There’s a split second where I'm worried he meant it in an ‘i’m sorry for making you cry’ way. But then he blushes.

“Yeah.” He nods, “Are you saying yes?”

I shrug, “I’ll go with you.”

“Is that what you want to say… or what I want to hear?” I lean back against the wall, breathing out and whistling.

“I’ll tell you after you pay.”

[paracosmicka]

Primal Fears AU content but don’t worry it’s still sonadow

That last one is a repost from last year so if you saw the silly drawings but then read the thing in the bottom left corner and went “wait what the fuck”

It’s because it was an AU thing but I literally only had that drawn out and now you get some context at least:

In this universe Sonic is an assassin/bounty hunter/whatever you wanna call a guy that is hired to specifically to kill other Entities. He meets Shadow when they run into each other because they’re both following the same Avatar. Then they do the normal canon sonadow thing where the first interaction they have always ends with them fighting and beating the shit out of each other. And then they kinda calm down but then Shadow has a similar moment from the beginning of the IDW Sonic comics where he gets absolutely pissed that Sonic managed to distract him from catching the bad guy and zooms away before the two have another chance to speak again.

Here Shadow is a GUN field agent except in this universe GUN isn’t really military and it’s more focused on not only investigating (like the Magnus Institute) but also actively dealing with the Entities. Which sounds great except remember how I said they aren’t military well actually they kinda are because “dealing” with Entities and Avatars just means: throw it in the high-security prison that is guarded by other various Avarars that all work for GUN because it means they don’t have to get thrown in prison. So GUN is kinda like The Magnus Institute + Section 31 working together. So actually I guess it’s like the SCP Foundation.

One day Shadow goes into work and Sonic and there and I’m not really sure on what I’m gonna do in the plot to make him end up there (like maybe he’s undercover and just using GUN to get to his next target or maybe GUN does the “hey we’re gonna throw you in jail if you don’t agree to work for us” idk again not sure yet) but now he’s working with Shadow because they still need to catch that Avatar.

So now we’re sorta caught up, they’re at Club Rouge (and I realized I didn’t specify which Entity she serves in my drawing of her but people who guessed the Stranger ding ding ding here have some sonadow) because Sonic and Shadow need to kinda interrogate Surge and Amy, who are associated with the Slaughter. They have a band called Poison Rose and it’s basically just Grifter’s Bone but they perform rock music instead. And are also probably dating.

Anyway the Big Case™️ Sonic and Shadow are working on is investigating a bunch of spooky murders and they’re pretty sure whoever’s behind them is a Slaughter avatar. But not specifically Amy and Surge☝️ They’re kinda “allowed” to perform the Music That Makes You Die because GUN also has like an “informant” group of avatars they can rely on. These avatars don’t work for GUN, but they agree to chill out on the spooky stuff if it means they don’t get arrested for spooky crimes. So for Poison Rose, “chilling out” on the spooky stuff means that they have to force people to wear earplugs while they perform, which wasn’t specifically stated in MAG 42 if that works or not, not really sure of the magic rules of the Music That Makes You Die phenomena but yeah they gotta do that and probably some other stuff so GUN doesn’t arrest them. Like maybe no swearing or something lol.

Okay gonna stop there before this gets even longer explaining my AU because this was supposed to be just a normal sketch post but whoops.

Oh also I made a playlist for the kind of music Poison Rose performs but it was made private because I didn’t want anyone to stumble across it and be like “pshhhh this dumb person who makes public playlists of their AU that no one knows about what a loser” (me when I make up completely unrealistic scenarios in my head) but now here’s a post explaining that part of my AU so that person can’t make fun of me anymore

[hadesisqueer]

One thing I really like about RWBY as a show is that the heroes do not have a strict no kill rule. Like, obviously, they very much prefer not hurting or killing anyone at all, but if it comes to that, they do not hesitate.

-Tyrian is trying to capture Ruby and kill her uncle and her friends? The moment he gets slightly distracted, Ruby takes the chance and cuts his tail off without a second thought.

-Cinder is affected by Ruby's silver eyes in the Battle of Haven? Jaune doesn't hesitate and the moment she lets her guard down he tries to stab her in the face; had he gone for a slash instead, Cinder would be dead.

-Tock has blinded Maria and is about to kill her? There you go, Maria will decapitate her. Bye, Tock.

-Adam keeps trying to kill Blake and Yang? Oh, he gets stabbed by both of them. No more Adam.

-Ironwood tries to shoot Winter again with that weird gun even though she's a Maiden now? Winter just sends the blast back at him and leaves. Doesn't even check if he's still alive.

-Neo just pushed Yang to the void and they think she's gone? Blake WILL try to cut Neo's head off. And while they're fighting Ruby doesn't hesitate to push Neo off the bridges even if she thought that would kill her.

Which are all like, normal. Those other people are actively trying to kill them or their loved ones as well. Which is why I used to be really confused when I kept seeing some people complaining mostly about the Ruby with Tyrian and the Blake and Yang vs Adam things. Saying they are supposed to be the good guys and they should set an example to viewers instead of maiming or killing their foes.

What example do you want them to set? That letting others kill you and your loved ones is okay? Because that's what was gonna happen; Tyrian had just poisoned Qrow, actually he's lucky Ruby only went for the tail. Adam was not going to stop and he going to take Blake's sword to continue to try murdering her and Yang, who had no Auras either and were as vulnerable as he was. They either did it first or they could die, and they did. It's self-defense. Tyrian and Adam were trying to kill them and they were the ones who started the fights. You fuck around, you're gonna find out.

[merrinla]

DATV - FINAL BATTLE CUT CONTENT

What changed during the fight with the final boss. The Archdemon was supposed to die from a cannon shot in the Archon's Palace. Bellara or Neve would boost the cannon with the red lyrium the Venatori had pumped into them. Or Emmrich would cast enchantments on it. Solas didn't turn into a wolf, he was holding back a portal of blight. The wolf was his beast, which was supposed to be a distraction. Rook meanwhile fought the demons, and then Elgar'nan, who took on different forms of Pride, Envy, and Rage. There were more banters during the fight. I wouldn't say these dialogues are very diverse. But if someone wants to read it, here it is.

Soals: Rook. Our only chance now is to work together! Rook: Really? While you drown the world in demons? Soals: If you recover the dagger, I will do what I can to stop Elgar'nan! Soals: I must hold back the blight! My wolf will distract Elgar'nan while you take the dragon!

Soals: Rook, I will hold the portal as best I can!

Elgar'nan: The Dread Wolf? Elgar'nan: You cannot stop me! You never could! Soals: No! Elgar'nan: Yes! The portal opens! Feel the true power of the blight, Fen'Harel! Soals: You will not bring your poison into this world!

Rook: Let's move. As long as any of us are still alive, nothing gets to Bellara/Neve! Emmrich: We'll protect Bellara, no matter the cost! Lucanis: We'll give Bellara/Neve the time she needs! Neve: For Bel. Whatever it takes! Taash: For Bellara/Neve! Bellara: We'll keep you safe, Neve! Emmrich: We'll shield Neve, come what may! Harding: We've got her back! Lucanis: Just give me something I can kill! (if romance with Neve)

After the fight with the demons

Bellara: The cannon is ready and targeting the Archdemon! The firing panel should be nearby. Neve: Cannon's ready, and the Archdemon's in sight! The firing panel should be close. Emmrich: The cannon is ready and aimed at the Archdemon! The activation panel should be nearby.

Bellara: The mechanism for firing the cannon must have gotten damaged in the fight! Davrin: The mechanism to fire the cannon broke during the fight! Harding: The firing mechanism was damaged in the fight! Lucanis: The cannon must have been damaged. Neve: The firing mechanism—it got damaged in the fight! Taash: The demons broke the thing that fires the cannon!

Rook: Bellara/Neve/Emmrich, the firing panel's damaged. Is there any other way to fire the cannon? Bellara: Let me see.... Yes, there's a manual firing mechanism, but it's all the way over on the Archon's throne! Neve: Damn it. Wait—there's a manual firing mechanism, but it's over on the Archon's throne! Emmrich: Let me—Yes! A manual firing mechanism, over on the Archon's throne!

Solas: Rook, I cannot reach the mechanism while keeping the portal closed, but I can make you a path! Rook: Appreciate it.

Rook: Crystal's down there. Let's move!

Elgar'nan: Bear witness, mortals, to the power of a god. Bellara: Still not a god! Davrin: I haven't been impressed so far! Emmrich: History will record your fall here! Lucanis: Do you ever shut up? Neve: (Laughs) You think a speech will impress me? Taash: You talk too much! And your dragon is ugly! Elgarnan: You cannot harm me. All you can do is flee. Davrin: I've got a few moves left! They all end with you dead! Emmrich: Your fellow god thought so as well! Harding: This is for the Titans! Isatunoll! Harding: It is no longer your time, it is ours! For the Titans! For the dwarves! Isatunoll! Lucanis: We'll see about that. Neve: I run toward disaster. Bad habit! Taash: Davrin/Harding wouldn't give up! Neither will I! Taash: Lace is gone because of you! (if romance with Harding) Elgarnan: You will fail. You will fall. And then you will submit. Bellara: The elves will never bow to you again! Davrin: Wardens don't know how to do that! We fight to the end Emmrich: Neither the living nor the dead shall ever bow to you again! Harding: I am the memory of my ancestors. I am the heart of the Titan. I will never submit! Harding: I am the child of the Titans, and it is you who will fall! Neve: Not my style! Taash: You're not even that tall! Lucanis: Say that again when my knife is in your back.

Lucanis' last line gives the vibes of his narrative sketches.

Elgar'nan: You cannot win! Elgar'nan: I am your god! Elgar'nan: This world is mine! Elgar'nan: While my dragon-thrall lives, I am invulnerable. Yet still you fight. Pathetic. (ingame line) Rook: We killed an Archdemon at Weisshaupt, and we saved the Dalish at Arlathan. Rook: I don't need thralls. I've got a team. Rook: That was enough to take down Ghilan'nain, and it's enough to take down you.

Elgar'nan turns into Pride

Elgar'nan: This is my moment of triumph. Nothing shall interfere with the dawn of my empire! Bellara: What is this? It's more than just a demon! Davrin: What is this thing? Has he got a demon impersonating him? Harding: What is this thing? Did he force his form onto a demon? Lucanis: What the—? Is a demon impersonating him? Neve: What is this thing? Not a demon impersonating him? Taash: What is this vashedan? Has he got a demon impersonating him? Lucanis: This is no demon. This is Elgar'nan's will. Bellara/Harding: It's not a demon. It's a manifestation of Elgar'nan's will! Neve: It's not a demon. It's Elgar'nan's will—a full manifestation of it! Taash: It's not a demon! It's his feelings or some crap! Emmrich: This is no spirit. It's a manifestation of Elgar'nan's will!

Rook: Keep him off Bellara/Neve!

Reaction to Pride v.0.1 Taash: This thing's tougher than a regular demon! Bellara: That demon's going to be tricky! Davrin: That's one tough demon! Lucanis: This demon is not going down easy. Harding: This one's a lot! Why isn't it down yet? Neve: This demon's a damn pain! Harding: It's not a normal demon! It's Elgar'nan's will, in physical form! Emmrich: This isn't a mere spirit of pride, but a manifestation of Elgar'nan's will! Taash: I don't think it's just a demon! It's Elgar'nan's feelings or something! Neve: It's not your typical demon! It's a manifestation of Elgar'nan's will! Lucanis: This is not just any pride. This is Elgar'nan's pride. Bellara: Not just a demon! It's a manifestation of Elgar'nan's will!

Rook: Bellara/Emmrich/Neve? Elgar'nan's taking a personal interest in the crystal. We might be a minute. Emmrich: I'll ready the cannon while you see them off! Neve: You get that handled. I'll get us a cannon! Bellara: You can do it. I'll get the cannon ready!

Elgar'nan turns into Envy

Rook: Right. We got him. Elgar'nan: I am rulership. I am authority unchecked over all the sun touches! None who live will oppose me! Rook: Here he comes again! Elgar'nan: All who serve me are extensions of my will. My power is manifest across this world... while you stand alone.

Elgar'nan tries to mindcontrol Rook

Elgar'nan: "Goodbye, Assan." The final words of the elf who sacrificed himself for your failure. (in this version, Assan survived) Elgar'nan: "Tell my ma I love her." The final words of the dwarf who sacrificed herself for your failure. Rook: Oh, you really wanna do this? Rook: "Elgar'nan. I had such plans." Ghilan'nain's never gonna finish those plans, is she? Rook: She died a failure, because Harding/Davrin chose to give her/his life like a damn hero. Rook: And you're not saying anything about Bellara/Neve, are you? Because we got her back.

Elgar'nan: Empty words from a mortal who was little more than the Dread Wolf's tool. Rook: Yeah, I got played. And then my friends were there to help. Rook: But you have no friends. All you can send against me are copies of yourself, because you have nobody. Rook: And when we're done with you, you're gonna die alone. Elgar'nan: (Roars in anger)

Elgar'nan: (Straining) You will kneel! Rook: (Straining) Not today, and not to you!

Rook back

Bellara/Davrin/Emmrich/Harding: Rook, you're back! Are you all right? Taash: Rook! You good? Neve: Rook—Trouble! Are you all right? (romance line) Neve: Rook—you're back! Everything good? Rook: Never better. Neve: I'm done with his mind games! We're ending this. Neve: You don't give up, do you? So let's finish this! (romance line) Neve: Good! Now let's kick him out of Minrathous—and the rest of Thedas, too! Bellara/Davrin/Harding: Then let's finish this! Taash: Good! Now let's kick his ass! Lucanis: Then let's finish this bastard. I have a contract to fulfill.

Bellara: How's it going down there? I can't finish with the cannon 'til you destroy that crystal! Neve: Rook? Hate to bother you, but I can't do much with the cannon until that crystal's destroyed. Emmrich: Are you all right, Rook? I can't do anything with the cannon until you've destroyed that crystal. Rook: Soon as we're done with Elgar'nan!

Elgar'nan turns into Rage

Elgar'nan: I am fire and darkness! If you will not bow, you will burn!

Bellara: This feels like a lot of manifestations of will for one person! God. Whatever. Davrin: Oh, come on—how many forms does this guy have? Harding: How many of these shapes does he have? Lucanis: Mierda. How many shapes does he have? Neve: Another side of Elgar'nan—well isn't he charming! Taash: How many damn different shapes does this asshole have?

Solas: Rook! I cannot hold the portal much longer! Rook: Hey! You wanted this fight! Don't you dare give up on me now!

Bellara: Now! Take him down! Davrin/Emmrich/Lucanis: Now! Finish him off! Harding: Now! Finish it! Neve: Now's your shot! Take it! Taash: There! Take that asshole down!

Rook: Solas! We've got the dagger, but we still need to kill the Archdemon!

Solas: Rook! Here! Solas: With my power, you can stand against him!

Post fight

Bellara: Okay! Destroy the crystal before Elgar'nan returns! Emmrich: Quickly! Destroy the crystal before Elgar'nan returns! Harding: Get the crystal before Elgar'nan can come back! Lucanis: Now! Smash the crystal before we get more trouble! Neve: Quick! Destroy the crystal before he comes back. Taash: Come on! Destroy that vashedan crystal before that vashedan elven god comes back!

Crystal broken

Rook: Crystal's shattered! Bellara: Perfect! I'm finishing with the cannon. Just give me a minute! Neve: Knew you had it covered! I've almost got it. One minute! Emmrich: Perfect! I've nearly aligned all the enchantments. One more minute!

Rook: Solas! It's time! Solas: Ready when you are, Rook!

Solas: Elgar'nan! Elgar'nan: Nothing is over. I am eternal. You are an insect. Solas: Surrender now, and this insect will let you live. Elgar'nan: You cannot kill me. You cannot even hurt me. And yet you expect me to yield. Solas: No. Solas: I expect you to gloat. Solas: I was just the distraction.

Bellara: (Grunts with effort) Come on... Neve: (Grunts with effort) Damn it! Come on... Bellara/Neve: Almost got it... Bellara/Neve: (Final scream of effort) Bellara/Neve: (Breathing hard) Rook, the cannon's ready! The firing control is on the Archon's throne! Rook: Got it! before the shot Bellara: The Dread Wolf won! Neve: It's the only shot. Neve: I'll set the dogs on you!

[allpiesforourown]

I'm sorry but omega harem member Shen Yuan AU now has me in a choke hold-

Like,

Binghe is trying to find the perfect way to seduce Shen Yuan, because god knows he needs a miracle to unfuck up his entire 'I don't care for you, its just political' situation

Universe does its thing and sends a wife plot, Shen Yuan gets poisoned with some fuck or die plant when helping one of the wives meet with their family in a very dangerous section of the demon realm.

Binghe hears about his omegas poisoning and jumps at the chance to finally get closer to his A-Yuan. this! This is familiar to him, he's saved his wives from all kinds of poisons and aphrodisiac fueled heats before, he'd fuck him so good and show how great of an alpha he could be to him.

Only when he makes it there, Shen Yuans already been serviced by his bodyguard Liu Qingge. (its LITERALLY his job to save and service this omega, of course he fucked the poison out of him)

Turns out the news had reached Binghe far too late to be put to any use, partly do to Shen Yuan begging the wife he had been helping when he was poisoned to not bother Binghe with it. He just doesn't want to force Binghe to take care of him! (Binghe had just gotten back with a new wife too! Imagine how pissed he'd be if he interrupted them!)

The wife takes Shen Yuans insistence and worry as him being terrified of Binghe so of course she couldn't bring herself to tell the demon emperor (as should have been protocol). And if she actively helped hide his condition then it wasn't like anyone would rat her out for it, at least not after she told them how scared Shen Yuan had been of his Alpha husband. (Cue them believing that Shen Yuans wedding night must have been traumatising or something) rumors only spiral when an omega will take dealing with a deadly poison over fucking their literal husband.

So by the time the news reached Binghe it had already been a day. Bonus points if he walks in on Liu Qingge still inside his husband who's completely out of it from being throughly ravished for 12+ hours on and off to get the poison completely out of his system.

The stand off would be prime tea for the harem but absolutely terrifying to anyone who actually witnessed it. Binghe seething as his temper flairs to record levels.

"under what authority did you decide you could take such advances with MY omega."

"It's my job."

"No. its Mine."

"I was told you wouldn't be here"

"Well clearly I'm here now."

"Now is too late. he'd have been dead by now."

"...What?"

"He was poisoned yesterday. He'd have been dead by now."

And Liu Qingge isn't even being judgemental, I mean why would he be, this is a part of his job and a very enjoyable one at that. But Binghe is crumbling mentally as he tries to piece together how things went so wrong: Why wasn't he informed immediately? How had this been kept from him? Was someone trying to kill Shen Yuan? And now he wonders HOW exactly had his omega gotten poisoned?

The impulsive thoughts come too, he wants this bodyguard fired. But if he fired the man who saved his omega now, it would only seem like he'd wanted Shen Yuan dead.

An even uglier, more desperate part of him wanted to purposefully poison Shen Yuan with a poison only HE could cure, to have Shen Yuan need him.

POISONING YOUR HUSBAND AS FOREPLAY .... God I love binggeyuan and liushen, just the most emotionally dense people imaginable falling for each other

[ablobwhowrites]

Circle guard reader gives pills or medicine to the older players and gives hints to the next games. Cause of that a LOT of players survived. Or if the reader had enough and snap so they go the room filled with those people wearing the masks and killed them and had their money clear all the players Dept or problems and reaming money to them or put poison in the food and knock out the guards. Bro basically went John wick. I saw the mother and son duo and it broke me😭 did same to the reader.

circle guard y/n does try and keep most of the players alive even sometimes risking themselves to hide a player like when the game mingle was happening, they would try to lead some of the players to vacant rooms that players could go in but still they can't save them all and sometimes wishes to bascially go John wick on the people who started and kept this game running knows they can't. They are the lowest rank and yet somehow befriended half of the square guards and the triangles with some of the circles but they are stuck with this job, even if it kills them. They know they can't escape this web so might as well help the players survive to have them get out of this web.

A lot of the players do like circle guard y/n as they are basically the only one helping them have a more likely chance of survival and helping give medicine to the old players or ones that are injured. Even if it's not allowed the higher ups allow it because to the VIP's it makes things more interesting as they think it's random circle guards but the players kinda know which one is which but theres subtle hints y/n gives to the players. As sometimes when y/n has the duty of cleaning the beds the players have, y/n tries to put little things of extra food, medical aid or anything to help and tries to not get caught but of course they can't get to all of them and having to be subtle with the taking some supplies is a bit hard so not all the players can be lucky.

One of the square guards that y/n befriended is basically the only thing letting y/n continue this because if it wasn't for cube (it's what y/n kinda nicknamed the square guard) as cube knows the dangers of this and if y/n was caught then who knows what would happen. They could get killed or even put as a player as punishment and could be killed by the people they tried to help. But that doesn't happen on cubes watch as they try to make excuses for y/n to kinda get the others not suspicious of y/n's activity. Also circle guard y/n doesn't talk much and more uses some body language or movements as not much people hear them talk but cube knows what y/n says but they worry that y/n is getting way over their head. Cube just hopes that y/n knows that no matter how much they help, there can only be one winner to this game.

(HI! hopefully I cooked with this one but for now I'll continue to work on more DC and some squid game stuff but if you guys like this, don't be shy and request more if you guys like but for now. Please stay safe and drink water!)

[paradisewithinpain]

my take on "the hero would sacrifice you to save the world but the villain would sacrifice the world to save you" & tf141....

DARK THEMES, PLEASE BE WARNED

we all know these men are soldiers through and through. they put their lives on the line for the good of the world and they do it no questions asked.

but when it comes to you?

fuck that

there is nothing, and i mean nothing, that will stop these boys from keeping you alive and happy.

JOHN PRICE knows the power he holds. he knows the respect and fear that ranks both above and below him have for him. he knows that and he's going to abuse it when it comes to you.

you come to base and someone's bothering you? they're answering to a pissed off captain who doesn't give two shits about the morality of his punishment. as long as his love is happy, he's happy.

and who cares if he sends that idiot of a soldier into a situation where he's sure there's a good chance he won't make it out? price claims it to be "good experience". no one but him needs to know that it's more of an execution than anything

SIMON RILEY is the guard dog you never thought you'd need but boy are you glad you have him. walking places is a mindless activity knowing you have a giant of a man watching every single moving thing that enters your presence.

he was a weapon of mass destruction when he wanted to he. and when you came home crying, telling him about the store clerk who yelled at you because you tried to them that they over charged you for an item, he knew that his brute strength was needed.

and who cares if the store clerk was found outside in the alley by the shop, their face bashed in over and over and over again until they were almost unrecognizable? that's one less employ the store had to pay

JOHNNY MACTAVISH is a dedicated lover and an even more dedicated demolitionist. he's constantly showing you his silly little notebooks that are detailed with fun chemical reactions and ways to make green fire using sugar and boric acid. it's always fun to keep you entertained and a smile on your face brings a smile to his

but when you come home from work and that smile is no where to be found, he's immediately inquiring why. when you tell him about your shitty boss and the horrible way you've been treated, he's immediately pulling out his notebook and distracting you with silly chemical reactions and even putting on a small show for you to cheer you up.

and who cares if a week later your boss was found dead in his apartment, some type of untracable lethal poison infused in his coffee? you had always liked the assistant director better anyway.

KYLE GARRICK was a sweetheart through and through. he sweet talked his way into your life and you're glad you let him. his affirmations were always what you needed and when you needed. the way he'd hold you in his arms and whisper all the incredible things he saw in you never failed to warm your heart. he was observant and smart, seeing right through you and everyone else around him.

so when you had to delete a few nasty messages on social media after kyle made a post about you, he was less than pleased. he took you and your happiness very seriously. he posted you because he wanted to. he loved showing you off and he wanted the world to see how happy you made him. a few anonymous profiles weren't going to change that.

so who cares if their names, jobs, profiles, browsing history, and text messages were all exposed? the nasty information was all kyle needed to know that those men would never see the light of day again

[milkbobatyun]

a fallen star

pairing: zhongli x reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: to spend an eternity with him, was something you could only hope fate was kind enough to grant you in your next life.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i love archon zhongli smsm, im sorry to all the guizhong lovers for making her evil, but it's for plot purposes alr :( lwk ended up rewriting this like 3 times cus i didn't feel like it was good enough LMAO

when guizhong was there, morax barely spared a glance towards you. her beauty and skill easily outshone yours, rendering you a mere shadow in her presence. it made your heart ache with sadness. she was the sun, you were the moon, silently beautiful.

they were comfortable, guizhong laughing daintily at a joke morax made, hand placed on morax’s arm. she held his attention, like she always did.

“...what do you think, [name]?” the sudden question startled you from your thoughts as you blinked and smiled apologetically.

“sorry, i was lost in my thoughts.” your own voice sounded dull, not tinkling and pleasant on the ears like guizhong’s.

morax’s amber eyes swept over yours, picking up the dejection in your posture, how you seemed uncomfortable, every muscle tense, as though you were ready to flee at any moment.

“i was just considering some new activities we could introduce for the upcoming lantern rite.” guizhong piped up, cheerfulness lacing her tone.

morax nodded in agreement, “guizhong’s ideas were innovative, as expected from the goddess of dust.” he praised.

of course, guizhong would be praised for her brilliant ideas. she was the perfect goddess, flawless in every way. unlike you, whose body was adorned with imperfections, from battles with the enemies of war and your own inner demons.

standing next to her felt like standing next to the sun, bright and warm, while you were the moon, unnoticed, but trying your best. thinking back, you realised that it was a long time since morax glanced at you the same way he looked at guizhong.

to him, you were the reliable goddess of strategy, someone he could always trust to have his back. in his eyes, you were his world, the one who hung up the stars and kept the world turning.

like stone, his faith in you was immovable, he trusted your words and plans for the archon war, to train and teach xiao. but guizhong, she held a different type of beauty, her presence commanded attention, her creations and innovations new and intriguing. he found himself spending more time and attention on guizhong, pushing you aside.

like stone, he was dense. if he had known earlier, had accepted his own feelings and understood why, when he was lost in the sea of people at a festival, his eyes searched for you, how your touch sent sparks of electricity across his skin, then this, all this, could’ve been avoided.

poor cloud retainer. she pitied herself. how did she, the clever, unparalleled adepti, become chained down by two idiots for friends? it was clearer than day that the two of you harboured feelings for each other, but how did neither of you realise.

it was time for her to be the perfect wingwoman and start her matchmaking career earlier than anticipated, before she lost the chance.

the tea had been poisoned. from the faint curve of guizhong’s lips, her eyes, alert and watching as you downed the cup she had given you, it was so obvious a five-year old could guess.

but you were preoccupied, the slip of paper your messenger pigeon delivered sat on your desk, strewn about with papers on war strategies and your mind racing through all the reasons why he wrote that message.

‘come meet me at the pavilion balcony. xiao will come find you.’

xiao escorted you along the path, the two of you discussing his training, for morax had entrusted you, the goddess of strategy, to be his teacher.

the terrain to the pavilion was difficult, you found yourself panting for breath. halfway up the mountain, the path began to twist and turn under your feet, sweat beading on your forehead. you tripped, feet stumbling over the stones of the path, each step weighing down on your feet.

xiao reached out, brows furrowed in concern.

“is everything ok, shīfu?” xiao’s quiet voice cuts through the ringing in your ears.

you lean against the stone face, shaking your head.

“i must be too tired.” you assure him, though your voice was tight with pain. “you little rascal and morax, always keeping me on my toes, overloading my desk with work.” you jested, playfully poking xiao in the side. “let me rest for a bit and we can keep going.”

pausing, you take in several shaking breaths. xiao’s golden eyes remained fixed on you, concern reflecting in his amber eyes.

with an effort, you pushed yourself off the stone face, marching onwards. xiao crouched in front of you, offering to carry you on his back. you stubbornly disagreed.

“whoever heard of a disciple carrying their master?” you teased, though pain was etched in the lines of your forehead.

xiao hesitated, his eyes flickered between your pale face and the inclining path ahead, but he respected you. thus, he fell into step beside you, ever watchful.

shadows crawled into your vision, blurring the edges and twisting the view of the path. a sudden wave of lightheadedness forced you to your knees, the world spinning sideways. xiao’s quick reaction caught you, leaning you against his shoulder.

“shīfu,” his tone filled with a rare edge of worry and fear. “you’re in no condition to continue.”

you shook your head. “i can do it, it’s going to be fine.” you didn’t know if this was to reassure yourself or xiao, but the sentence repeated itself like a mantra in your head.

the sun slowly set, painting the surrounding mountains with stunning shades of orange and gold, before the deep velvet of night overtook it, stars twinkling in the sky, the moon a watchful guardian.

with xiao supporting your weight, you stumbled up the last few paces up to the pavilion, not noticing the tall figure already present.

your heartbeat raced in your chest at an uncomfortable pace. the hollow thuds rang in your ears, mixing into a clashing melody with the piercing ringing. it made you feel nauseous, bile rising in your throat. you clawed at your chest, hoping it would slow down.

with a heave and a wretch, you threw up, the scarlet liquid splattering on the pristine stone tiles underfoot.

startled by the noise, morax spun around, amber eyes falling upon your trembling figure. xiao’s golden gaze, usually so calm and steady, now radiated desperation a silent plea for help.

for a heartbeat, morax stood frozen with shock. then, without a second thought, his posture of elegance thrown to the wind, morax races towards you.

he dropped to his knees, sinking to the floor, gently cradling you in his arms, gloved fingers gently tapping against your cheek, desperate to keep you awake. his voice trembled as he chanted your name, praying to the stars you would stay with him.

“[name],” he murmured urgently. “wake up, look at me.”

through the fog of pain and exhaustion, you felt the warmth of his embrace radiating, a familiar voice cutting through the pain. his scent–earth, osmanthus and tea…no, the scent of home–wrapped around you like a hug. you squinted up at him, your body feeling impossibly heavy, darkness threatening to bring you under.

“morax,” you breathed, chest heaving as you fought for breath. “i came…to see you, as you asked.”

morax looked at you in confusion. “wasn’t it you who asked to see me?” he questioned.

confusion surfaced on your face, until you realised who the mastermind behind this meeting could’ve been. you chuckled, clear and bright, gave way to violent coughing, which left you gasping for air.

“it must’ve been cloud retainer then.” you wheezed, breath struggling. “sly crane,” you teased, voice devoid of malice or hate. “this is her way of meddling.” you manage a wry smile.

you don’t give morax a chance to reply before you’re speaking again, holding a finger to his lips as words gushed from yours like a fountain.

“you know, i’ve liked you for a long time,” you confessed, your words carrying the weight of years of longing. “so long. i’d always hoped that you would look at me the same way, but you never did. seeing you with guizhong all the time breaks my heart.”

your chest tightened painfully, each breath a battle, but you fought on. “you mean everything to me, but i dont mean anything to you. i see the way you look at her, i hope she brings you joy.”

you open your mouth to speak again, but cold droplets that land on your face interrupt you from speaking. with an effort, you tilt your head up, watching the tears cascade down morax’s face.

with a trembling hand, you reach up to wipe his tears. morax’s hand envelops yours, his warm hand contrasting against your cold, clammy skin.

morax’s breath hitched, as his amber eyes searched yours. you open your mouth to say something more, but morax interrupts you.

“no,” he breathed. “i do love you too, i think,,” he pleaded, “ if you give me some time, let me work this out slowly.”

“i want to,” you breathed out. “but i dont know if i have time left. i’m cold.” you snuggled deeper into morax’s embrace, uncertainty weighted in your heart. you could feel your life slipping away, the edges of darkness creeping closer.

“im tired.” you mumble, your voice barely a whisper. “i’ll just…sleep a little while…”

“shīfu,” xiao’s trembling voice broke through the silent night, “please, don’t leave me yet.”

you peel your eyes open, turning your head in xiao’s direction, motioning him to come closer. obediently, xiao approaches, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall.

“shǎháizi,” you breathed, voice light with teasing. “listen well to morax, he will be your new master from now on.” you instructed, hand reaching out to pet his head. “smile for me?” you mustered a weak smile that xiao reflected, his own sorrow mingled with hope.

a final bought of violent coughing tore through your body, each one sending pain sparking through your body. blood spilling from your lips. the metallic taste filled your mouth, mixing with the bitter taste of fear as darkness overtook you.

your eyes fluttered shut as the life left your body. in the distance, a star fell out of the sky, its tail trailing like a sorrowful goodbye.

“[name]?” morax whispered, voice raw with regret. “open your eyes, look at me.” his plea fell on deaf eyes. “you never heard my response, you can’t leave me yet.”

“i think…no, i know, that i do love you.”

fate was cruel, you had found your forever, but at the wrong time. someday, perhaps fate would grant us a second chance.

footnotes:

1. shīfu (师傅) — meaning master or teacher, this word is often used in chinese to express respect to someone who is skilled in a particular area or field.

2. shǎháizi (傻孩子) — "shǎ" meaning foolish (傻) and "háizi" meaning child (孩子), this word can be used as a term of endearment, meaning foolish child

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora

���,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024 / づ ♡

[blahaj-my-beloved]

I'd somehow forgotten that tr!Owen's character intro did NOT show that he was a friendly jester.

He's starting to show his hand now, at least to the viewers. It's becoming clear that Jester Owen does not have good intentions towards the King and his kingdom.

He started slow by trying to push Clown out of the kingdom at the beginning, but wasn't able quite able to because of King Foolish's surprising diplomacy. I feel like he did manage to give some doubts to Archmage Clown though, about King Foolish's competency and decision making.

Then, Jester Owen almost single-handedly broke the tentative alliance that blue had with the kingdom when he picked a fight with faction leader Aimsey. He's also building walls and barriers, saying they're for protection but also further isolating the kingdom. Making it feel to other factions that it's Yellow vs Everyone. And it's working.

Now, he saw that tr!Ros was vulnerable because one of her closest friends had just died. A friend that he has actively spoken against, in front of Ros and other kingdom members. He watched, invisible, as Ros stood silently at Aimsey's grave. And, when he heard Ros drinking poison, full of enough hurt and grief to hurt herself to feel even a little closer to the person she's lost. He... took his chance. To jump in, not to help Ros or to make her feel better. But to push her away from the kingdom.

Firstly by blaming Ros for his own two deaths to Pangi, saying that they were because she wasn't there. Taking Ros's own trauma of being alone while being hunted, like she was after the king's death, and making it about himself.

Then by casually dismissing Aimsey's death. Insinuating that it is a good thing, that Ros now has less distractions outside of the kingdom. Almost, but not quite, blaming Ros for Aimsey's death too! By saying that Ros being friends with a different faction member "led to them dying".

Ending the conversation by saying that, if Ros doesn't feel like she belongs in the kingdom, he can't hold her back. Knowing full well that he has made sure, that she doesn't feel that she belongs.

Jester Owen is trying his best to crumble the castle from the inside. Trying to isolate the King. For what reason? Who knows. But it's going to be very interesting to see where this is headed

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Kalim’s favorite food is coconuts because the coconut is the hardest food to poison. Meaning he likes it because he knows there is a very slim chance it would be poison for him. 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Kalim’s favorite food is actually specified to be coconut juice! This is important because (as I’ve speculated about in this post):

Aside from being a refreshing beverage, coconut juice has historically been used to reverse the effects of poisons and drug overdoses in both India and Africa. We know that Kalim has had multiple attempts on his life, including intentional poisoning of his food, so this may be why Kalim has acquired a taste for coconut juice.

But yeah, overall similar reasoning to what you proposed! It’s a way to fend off any ingested poisons and/or go minimize the chances of being poisoned in the first place.

When you think of it like that, it paints Kalim’s golden life in a darker coat. There’s the sinister implication that his preference for coconut juice originated from the anxiety of knowing anything else he put to his lips could end him. Recall that Kalim is also hesitant to eat anything that Jamil didn’t personally prepare for him or hasn’t been taste tested in advance.

Typically when we think of Kalim, we think of extravagance and perhaps the ignorance his insane wealth affords him. Those are valid things to associate with him. However, considering the numerous assassination attempts he has lived through, it’s possible to look at his opulence another way too.

Kalim appears to be acutely aware that others want him dead, yet he sparingly mentions it out loud and instead parties hard and tries to make others have fun with him. He lives every day to its fullest, because it may very well be his last. If and when he goes out—which could literally be any day now—he doesn’t want to live with any regrets.

I cannot imagine it’s easy to live with the burden of knowing people are out for your head simply because your exist or because you were born into the wrong family. Sure, you may be able to have any luxury your heart desires, but money ultimately cannot cover up or treat the ever-looming threat of death (and again, I must stress: for no crime you have personally committed but just the circumstances you are in). Yet whenever we see Kalim, he’s usually smiling and offering a helping hand to his peers. He’s still actively choosing to give his trust to others rather than be suspicious or condemn them. That’s a special kind of courage that I think Kalim doesn’t get enough recognition for.

[bartywinter]

number · @rosekillermicrofic · rosekiller · word count: 661 · cw: angst

Barty dialed the phone number with trembling hands and dropped it next to him on the mattress after activating the speakerphone. Evan would probably want to kill him for waking him up so late at night, but he didn't know who else to tell that his mother had passed away.

It hadn't come as a surprise when his father called to break the news. His mother had been ill for years, and in the last year she had gotten so far worse Barty almost preferred death would take her away rather than further her suffering. He had visited her in hospital every week —she had been a patient in a specialised clinic two hours’ drive from the big city—, and yet he had not had a fair chance to say goodbye as Barty Crouch Sr told him of her passing only after the funeral. His mother had been buried and he had not been able to see her for the last time. Did his father hold that much resentment to deprive him of something as precious as his mother's farewell? Fuck him and his twisted, rotten way of punishment.

The call was picked up at the last ring.

“Barty,” Evan groaned on the other end of the phone. “I hope someone died, because why the fuck are you calling me at three in the morning?”

Bless Evan and his ill-timed crude sense of humour.

“Actually, my mother died.”

There was an awkward silence in the call that was eventually interrupted when Evan sat up in bed.

“Where are you?” His voice sounded much softer than before. “I'll come and get you.”

“That fucker buried her without telling me.” He was staring at the nickname he had saved his best friend's contact number under. Rosie. “I hate him. I fucking hate him so much.”

Barty heard what sounded like hurried footsteps on the floor.

“Baby, can you tell me where you are?” Although Evan tried to hide it so as not to upset him, his concern was evident in his tone. “Are you home?”

The pet name distracted Barty for a few long seconds.

“Yeah, I’m home.”

Around thirty minutes later, a motorbike engine was audible next to the building where he lived. He listened as the noise was replaced by the ringing of his doorbell. He hit the open button directly and opened the front door to await Evan. When he appeared from the lift, he walked quickly and stood before him, his hair dishevelled, his breathing heavy and his gaze worried.

“Hi,” Evan whispered shakily. “I couldn’t come earlier.”

Barty had to repress the urge to kiss him.

“I know.” He stepped aside. “Come in.”

After Evan entered the flat, Barty closed the door and they stood watching each other. It was unusual for the atmosphere to be awkward between them since they always knew what to say. There was an exception, particularly for Barty: feelings. One of the few emotions he was able to express was anger, which poisoned the poor capacity for reasoning he had in such a state and drowned any other possible emotions that struggled to come to the surface. However, he felt something new, a great hollowness in his heart that distracted him from all other feelings. His mother, with her death, had carved a big hole in his soul and had left him to deal with it alone.

Except he was really not alone. Evan was right there.

“We could kill him, you know.”

Barty nodded.

“Not today, though. I’m tired.”

Evan closed the small distance between them and took one of Barty’s hands gently.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

Barty shook his head.

“I won’t sleep.”

“You don’t have to.” Evan smiled beautifully at him. “We can watch a film.”

As the butterflies fluttered in his stomach like a blissful nightingale in the early hours of the morning, Barty realised he was going to be okay.

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 24

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n hi. it's me. i'm back. i don't have any excuses to make.

please also check out daybreak, posting weekly from now on (yes i did write an entire smau instead of queenmaker and sit on it for almost six months)

previous | masterlist | next

---

Comeback approaches like a hurricane; it's there, developing in the corner of your eye just off the coast of your island, and then all at once it is here, and it is so all-encompassing that you're not even sure where here is anymore.

Comeback. Debut. The most important day of your life. One of those.

 Time starts to fly by; schedules and practice and filming and every so often the chance to sleep or to grab something to eat with the others. It drags at your coattails, sticks itself to your feet and settles like a weight upon your shoulders, but you can't stop. There are performances to film, and then there is a concert that you are missing so much of the choreography for, and even when all of that is over, you are headfirst into award season and special performances and group activities for the company and-

First, debut. Second, everything else.

The camera sits on the table in front of you, staring with one dark, unblinking eye as a brush darts across your face, erasing all your imperfections. It fills your stomach with a funny kind of fear, small but poisonous, stinging when you think about turning it on - you've managed to put it off so far, waiting until your face was made up to at least avoid having to see your own naked skin reflected back at you in the viewfinder. No one else wanted to see that either, you're sure, after the things you've read and...well, the experiences you've had in the past. It's good to know your limits, after all.

That excuse is fast running out now though, and the time to go up towards the stage is drawing closer with alarming speed, and if you don't capture any footage before that happens, you're in some real trouble, no matter how loudly Seungmin and Felix are churning out hours worth of content on the other side of the room.

It takes real, deliberate effort to lean forward and turn that camera on once the makeup artist proclaims you ready, your hands delaying still as they fiddle with the angle and the focus, following the motions the manager that had handed it to you had shown you before he left. It gives you a little red light to say it is filming, and you swallow down the stone in your throat and sit up straight, looking around at the room to avoid the stare of its lense.

The first minute of your vlog is very boring. It's probably only the thought of some stranger sitting in a room later and watching you sit there awkwardly for a ridiculous amount of time that spurs you into saying anything at all. 

"Hello Stay," you begin, because it seems the only way to begin. The words feel awkward in your mouth, your tongue stiff and undeserving of saying them, and your throat scratches and dries; you think, as you speak, that you do not sound like a singer at all. "It's nice to meet you...for the second time." 

A noise rises up from behind you, giving you pause just as you run out of things to say - Han, running his voice up and down the scales as he begins to warm up. You've gotten used to that by now, the volume of the boys around you, but you're grateful for the excuse to pause in your self-rumination anyway, the precious seconds it gives you to figure out what it is you're saying.

Act normal, you tell yourself firmly as you turn back to the camera.

"I guess I should introduce myself, shouldn't I?" you say, your fingers twisting in your lap. "I'm L/N Y/N from Stray Kids, and today we're at [] for our first performance of Back Door, and I have just finished with the makeup..."

In the corner of the viewfinder, you notice a face hovering over your shoulder; Jeongin, waving a peace sign just out of your field of vision. You turn to look at him, shuffling over so that he is in full view for the camera. "What are you doing?" you ask and he leans in closer, automatically fixing the angle for the camera.

"I just wanted to see what you were doing," he says, refreshingly peaceful compared to the chaos that is building in the rest of the room. "Is this a vlog?"

"Mhm," you answer, and he smiles and waves again to the camera. "Are you dressed already?"

"Nearly," he says, glancing down at his white shirt and the black necklace that dangles around his neck. "You have time still."

You glance down at yourself; hoodie and cargo pants, neat but not show-ready by any means. "Mine is cold," you say by way of explanation, thinking of the skirt and thin shirt that wait on a rack in the next room, a far cry from the long pants the eight of them are wearing; and you really do like the look you've been given, but the thought of sitting around cold before you had to was less than enticing. "I was going to go and change in a minute."

"Maybe you should swap with someone," I.N suggests slyly. "I bet Changbin would look good in a skirt."

"Changbin's pants wouldn't fit me," you throw back, and he has to turn away from the camera to hide the ugly laugh that snorts from his nose. "He's too-"

Short, you don't say, your eyes tracking the boy in question as he passes by. He pauses in the back of your video when he notices your eyes on him, looks between you suspiciously, and then dances his way out of frame, having decided, you guess, that you aren't up to anything worthy of comment.

The look you share with I.N almost makes you laugh again. "I'm going," you say, scooping up your camera as you stand, "before he realises we're talking about him."

---

"Why do you look nervous?" Chan asks, a shadow that suddenly stands beside you as someone clips a mic pack onto his belt. You eye him in disbelief to avoid turning to look at the hallway that leads to the stage again, trying to figure out if he's joking or not.

"I can be nervous if I want to," you answer after a few seconds, in a way that definitely doesn't hide how anxious you feel at all. 

"But you shouldn't be," he insists, "because there's nothing to be nervous about."

"You know that won't stop me," you scoff.

He cracks a smile despite himself. He almost laughs, except that he's busy turning to nod in acknowledgement of whatever the assistant behind him says on her way past. "It's going to be a good performance," he says, like the simple act of saying it is enough to manifest it into existance, like he would never believe otherwise.

"It's going to be good," you agree readily. "The concerts next week are going to be good too."

That smile flashes across his face again, his eyes lighting up. "You're excited?" he asks - and you almost feel guilty, that he would think that you wouldn't be excited, that you've worked so hard and put on such a stoic face that any of them might start to think this is a chore for you, rather than a dream coming true in front of your eyes.

"Of course I'm excited," you tell him emphatically, before he can get any ideas. "I can't wait to-"

"Y/N noona!" Changbin says as he strides across the room, stopping the thought halfway through. You turn to face him and the phone he waggles in his hand questioningly. "Take a photo with me."

"Right now?" you ask, looping your in-ears over your shoulders as if to demonstrate just how poor his timing is.

Changbin doesn't notice at all. "Why not now?" he questions. "I'm supposed to take a photo for instagram. Come and take one with me."

Beside you, Chan looks like he still has something to say, but when you glance at him, he only shrugs, turning away to fiddle with his own equipment. "Alright," you agree easily and follow Changbin, over to a bland enough piece of wall with decent lighting. You have a feeling someone has already scouted the room earlier for the best places to take photos, judging by how easy it is to find and how well it photographs.

It's a good distraction from the nerves for a few minutes, but it doesn't last much longer than that; especially not when Changbin barks and fusses over the angle and the faces, and then Hyunjin comes wandering over to take the camera out of his hand, and you realise that he's occupying you as much as doing what Skijigi have asked him to do. After that, you laugh and poke fun back at him with just the same vivacity, but it does nothing to assauge the anxiety that's planted deep in your gut, roots curling out to envelop you.

Somehow, when you're done, it is time to go up to the stage - and suddenly, you are engulfed within the group and walking that hallway you had been staring at what feels like moments ago, trying to swallow with a dry mouth and a stone in your throat and wondering if you'll actually be able to get any of the notes out at all.

Chan's hand touches your shoulder as you walk, appearing by your side in just the same way as he had earlier. You wonder if he can smell fear or something; or if you really are just that pale and drawn in the face, if your hands are shaking or something. Whatever it is, you're clearly not doing a very good job of hiding it. 

"You still look nervous," he tells you cheerily, and if he's aware that he's reading your thoughts, he doesn't give any indication of it, not even as he pulls you aside as you reach side-stage and glances up at the huddle of boys that continue to the bottom of the stairs, eyeing them as if there's something he doesn't want them to hear.

"I got you something," he says, when he's sure there are no eavesdroppers, and lets his lips curve in a secretive, delighted smile.

Your eyebrow raises in surprise, almost certain that he did not forget, but rather has been looking for the right time to bring it up - but he doesn't notice the look of disbelief, fishing a small, velvet bag out of his pocket. He offers it to you on an outstretched palm, a bridge to form the gap between you.

With timid, shaking fingers you take it, noting the pink that stains his cheeks and the way he cringes away from meeting your eye as you pull the drawstrings loose. "I saw you playing with the ones at K-Con," he hurries to explain before you can even see what's inside. "And you - fidget a lot. I thought it might help."

A ring tumbles out of the bag and into your palm, the full stop to the end of his sentence. It's only a plain silver band, softly curved at the edges and gleaming where the light hits it - nothing ostentatious or gaudy. Just a simple band for you to twist around your finger, the letters SKZ engraved on its inner circle.

"Thankyou," you manage to say as you slip it onto your finger - and then fiddle with it, twisting it and forth to distract yourself from the nervous hum that seems to hang in the air between you.

"Oh, no." He waves you away before you can even get the words out, that pink flushing his face. "Look, it works already." 

You glance down at your fingers and the twist of the ring, and feel the grin that bites at your face. "I like it," you admit, and try to breathe the nervous jitters out of your chest with the words. 

He looks...relieved? You're not sure, when the music blasts on stage and then cuts off and the crowd roars in response, cutting him off before he can say whatever it is that now lines the back of his teeth. It looks like relief on his face though; as if he'd been worried you wouldn't take the gift or something. Wouldn't see the sentiment behind it even if you didn't like it. What does he think of you, if that's how he thinks you might react?

The thought sends another thrill of fear down your spine, one that the scrape of that ring on your finger can't quiet. So does the scream of that crowd - adrenaline rises from your chest, wrapping its hands around your throat; that wild, senseless energy tensing in your body like you're about to run from a fight-

A hand claps your shoulder. "Are you breathing?" Seungmin asks, balancing on one foot as he leans around you to frown at your face.

You have to inhale to retort, and he smirks. "That's what I was wondering," Chan says behind that grin - but the brush of his hand over the back of yours is much softer; questioning, rather than the jolt of contact from Seungmin.

"I don't need to breathe," you throw at them weakly. "I'm a robot."

"How do I turn you off, then?" Chan asks, and then laughs when you stare at him, surprised. Betrayed, maybe, when you would have expected such a thing to come out of Seungmin's mouth rather than his.

You're distracted by the call of a staff member, waiting to usher you onto the stage - and there, again, are your nerves, returned in two-fold. Debut, you remember again for the thousandth time today. Your dream. Your reward. Your life's work, the only work you've ever learnt how to do.

The group huddle together, say some quick words of encouragement that float past you with registering at all. Your hand is warm in the centre of all of theirs, crushed by the weight of someone's palm as eight hands go down and whoever is on the bottom goes up, ruining the whole thing. You know that you laugh, between the groans and cries of retribution, but it doesn't reach right into your chest. All your attention is laser-focused on the steps before you and the buzz of the crowd waiting beyond.

You are not alone in your daze, at least. Many hands pat your shoulders, smooth your hair. Felix throws an arm around you until you reach the stairs, a one-armed hug while he talks about something in your ear. He lets you go while you climb, and follows on your heels out onto the stage.

The crowd is smaller than K-Con, to your mercy, even if they scream and cheer just as loud as that massive crowd had. It seems like a stupid thing to find comfort in a moment later, when the thought hits you again; of course the crowd is smaller. This is only a broadcast recording, not the concerts that leer at your from the near future.

Some of the boys are already at the centre of the stage, waving and talking to fans. You join them long enough for the official greeting - and then melt away into the background when Changbin immediately commands attention. You find Han there with you, arms swinging by his sides in one last warmup, but you can't think of anything to say other than the tight grin that offers itself to him, no doubt writing all you nerves right onto your face. The smile he gives you in return is sympathetic, and devoid of pretty words to go with it; just a flash of teeth, a puff of air that blows into his cheeks before exhaling. It's a little comfort, at least.

The call to begin shatters any calm it pulls over you just as quickly as it arrives though, the stage a hive of activity as everyone finds their places. For a long moment, no one moves and nothing plays, the tense, still seconds ticking by at an excruciating pace-

And then the music starts.

And then you dance.

And then you sing, loud and clear and bright - and steady, even with the complex movement of your body and the increasing cry of your chest for air. 

The finale rises and culminates with Felix's voice, standing at the end of the line behind you. You feel his weight bump against you as he shifts on his feet, hear the moment of silence and then the renewed cheer of the crowd when his ending fairy comes up on the screens. You can't see when it ends, so you count to five before you turn, ducking out of the line as requested and immediately finding the red light of the camera that was told to be waiting for you. Finger hearts, Felix had suggested backstage and Hyunjin had agreed, and so that is what you give them, angled just so by your cheek and the giddy smile that had been pulling on your lips before the music was even finished.

The stage goes silent, the few scattered beginnings of applause quickly throttled by the hands that remain in their laps. The seconds tick by at a glacial pace, the smile threatening to slip from your face. You glue it there with all the fire that remains in your veins.

You could swear the camera lingers, just to drink in your pain. Logically, you know it is the same time as Felix had. Somehow, the thought isn't comforting.

Finally, that lense clicks off and the boys move around you, giving the crowd something else to hawk and squeal at. Something they really want to see, you allow yourself to think acerbically, and carefully avoid looking any of them in the eye as you do your forced, casual wander off the stage. It is hard enough to achieve in your own bubble, to resist that urge to run, let alone if you catch anything like sympathy on their faces.

The first one below, you take one look at the playback monitor and excuse yourself to the staff, fleeing towards the bathrooms. You're dimly aware of footsteps behind you and the sound of your name, but they do not process and your feet won't stop - not until the heavy door slams shut behind you and the propel of your walk carries you in sight of the mirror over the sinks-

Beautiful, you'd dared to think earlier, staring vindictively at just the same image that looks back at you now. The careful fit of the navy shirt, the short skirt flattering the length and lines of your legs, the layered bangles and the diamonds that glitter around your neck...perfectly crafted to slip right in amongst the silk and patterns of the boys - and not unlike Midnight's dark queen concept either, the concept you hadn't had the right look for. You'd even liked your face, and the unearthly glow they'd painted into your cheeks, the perfect frame of your dark hair-

But something had displeased that crowd. Whether the look, or the dancing, or stupid, stubborn pettiness over girlish crushes - or all of it put together. It took a lot to silence an entire crowd. You knew that - you'd seen one refuse to be silenced before, but never nominally refuse to cheer. Never pass the sentiment around and come to an absolute mutual agreement.

It's a talent, to be able to do that by yourself, you think as you stare into your own eyes in the mirror; and you don't have it in you to deny the rush of feelings that wells in your chest this time, or the hot prick of tears in your eyes. Your thoughts are swept off in the storm, the questions clamouring, crying, begging for one answer; why, why, why, why. Why do they hate you, why are they so mean about it, why didn't you just go home? Why did you ever come to this country in the first place? Why id you think you were good enough to be worth their love?

A soft knock on the door precedes the tentative entry of an assistant; one of the girls from JYP that always travels with you on schedules. You know her name, but you should know her better; instead, you've just been keeping to yourself. Another point of failure, probably.

"Y/N?" she says, daring to put one foot through the door as you blink and nod in acknowledgement. "Sorry - we need to start heading back now. You can have another moment - if you need-"

"I'm coming," you hurry to say; and it is shame that colours your cheeks and gives you the strength again to swallow it down like a hard stone. The tears burn as you blink them away, as you stare at the mirror and decide that no more will fall except for the traitorous three that have already escaped. You'll have to go back on that stage - you won't go red-eyed and puffy, won't give them that satisfaction.

You'll have to do that ending again too, though. Weather that storm a second time. Well, you'll just have to make sure this take is perfect, and then no one will ask for a third. You'll be able to go home and hide.

Your moment is up. You know that, and so you turn yourself away from the mirror, to the girl that waits. She willingly averts her eyes as she steps out, holding the door for you until you grip the edge of it with your own hand and follow her.

Chan is waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall and staring at nothing as he waits. There's a dark anger in his eyes when he turns, but it isn't for you - no, the tissue box in his hand is for you, offered like a bridge that spans the gap between you. 

Warily, you draw one and turn aside to dab at your eyes and try to cool the burn in your cheeks. You want to cringe away from yourself and hide in the bathroom again, to put off facing him until he goes away - but if you do that, he'll know you're hiding, and the hovering assistant will bear the blame of not bringing you back, and those fans will think they know why it's taking so long-

Stupid. They already know that they've won. Chan can see you crying. There's no one left to make a fool of except yourself.

"Are you alright?" Chan asks - and just like you thought, there is none of that anger in the gentle voice that asks.

"It's fine," you answer, biting at your tongue agains the tears that threaten to stir anew. "Sorry. I just needed - a moment. I'm ready to go again."

"Take another moment," he tells you.

"I'd rather go," you say, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to - but it is only the tears that you are fighting, that horrible, gut-wrenching wave of emotion that wants to wash over you. "I'm fine. Really."

The tissue crushes in your palm. You wonder if the sceptical look he gives you is because of the makeup you've surely smudged, or if he just doesn't believe you. "Are you sure?" he asks, and you steel yourself as you breathe in.

"I will be if we don't talk about it," you tell him tightly, and then you take the lead before he can disagree. He falls into step willingly anyway, thoughtful or maybe brooding as you weave your way back to the stage.

"We're not doing the endings again," he tells you as you approach, right as the flock of makeup artists engulf you. Like they knew you'd be crying, you think acerbically, and then banish the thought before it can unbalance you again.

"Were there any notes for me?" you ask as a brush dusts your cheek. The dancing; that's the only thing you need to focus on. The performance. Do it perfectly, and you can escape. Subconsciously, you fingers find the ring, twisting it around and around.

"Not for you," Chan says. "Just try to enjoy it again, yeah?"

Several choice comments come to mind as you gaze at him, each one as dry and hurt as the last, but a look at the occupants of the room stills your tongue. Assistants and stylists and employees of the show - people that you shouldn't be caught speaking ill of fans or members in front of. You've read your contracts and the company ethics, seen the bill for your training attached to your name. You know how far fans and a good public image takes even the most insidious people.

"I'll try," you promise instead, firmly holding your tongue to your principals. No point complaining about hardships anyway. This isn't an industry that takes pity on those who are too weak to survive it.

Even so, the answer seems vapid and contrived the moment it spills out of your mouth. Chan doesn't have time to contest it; the others are already returning to the stage to entertain that undeserving crowd, and so you must follow too, side by side in silence. His microphone passes restlessly from hand to hand, even when you step on stage and his brow smoothes out. You wonder how long that rage will simmer beneath his skin.

Until he can do something about it, a little voice whispers to you with a thrill, watching his receding back.

The stage sweeps you away after that, Chan disappearing into the midst of the others with just one last glance over his shoulder to make sure that you're following. Seungmin replaces him, appearing unobtrusively in your shadow as Felix slings an arm back around your shoulders and bats his hand away from messing with your hair. They flank you until you drift into your position, and then the stage goes quiet so that the music can start again. 

The dance flies by; chorus, verse, bridge, dance break. The fans cheer and chant along as dutifully as they had the first time, but the sound resonates hollow in your chest this time, the faces that you give the camera manufactured rather than brought on by the music. It's hard to forget, now that you know the truth, that those cheers aren't for you; only the boys that surround you, their bodies moving in unison with yours. Part of them, and yet set apart. 

You'd come six years ago expecting to be the jewel in that kind of crown, you think. This crowd has made you the flaw, ugly and unmistakably out of place.

It's a relief when the song ends and you can let go, your shoulders slumping and your chin dropping to your chest as you stare at the floor and try to breathe. A hundred emotions sweep by you, there and then swallowed again by the storm that churns in your stomach; you flinch away from the crowd's laughter at something Han does, and then laugh when Changbin's face appears upside-down in your field of vision, his body contorted strangely in an effort to meet your eyes. There's still something hiding in Chan's eyes and Felix is openly angry, but Minho gives nothing away in the nod he gives you as he passes by. Changbin talks about what to get for dinner on the way back down the stairs, but the words just wash over you; you're not hungry anyway, after all of this, just hollow and restless and tired.

Your third filming trudges by much the same, correcting a small mistake by Han in the pursuit of perfection. The boy looks apologetic as he passes you by, but it's not him or the dancing that you resent. It's just a thing you have to do, until all nine of you are pleased, until you can finally leave that stage and draw the hoodie you'd worn here on a very different kind of morning back over your head and climb into a car to go home.

You don't win any awards. The boys hide their disappointment, but you know it is there. You know, too, where the fan vote went and why that trophy was stolen away from them. 

You're not really sure what anyone expects you to do about it.

---

TAGLIST

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@keepswingin

[space-blue]

You know what time it is: Arcane trailer dissection time!!

Just your old Arcane obsessed terminally online person reviewing the most interesting screens (biased) from the teaser that just dropped.

Mamma Medarda just looks DOPE as FUCK in this mask, nothing else to say. She seems to be speaking to Mel, which would indicate she survives, which I hope for. We're clearly dealing with a soft Noxus invasion given the prevalence of Ambessa's troops.

Very interesting to see these troops activating. You have to wonder if they're a failsafe to Silco dying, or if they are being activated by Silco loyalists.

Not doing our girl any favours with that one.

VERY interesting to see Singed getting arrested in a teaser, because that hints it'll happen early on. I figure then that Warwick's escape would probably happen early as well. We may be looking at Singed and Heimerdinger old pal reunions weee

Gotta wonder if he ACTUALLY gets captured though, because Warwick might be a great get out of arrest card.

SEVIKA!!! WITH!! jINX'S GUN!!! I first though for SURE she must have stolen it, or found it, but do you know what?? She has a custom made Jinx arm!!!!

It doesn't seem haphazard, even if it's ungainly. There's a non zero chance that these two are united by Silco's death, instead of split apart!

This strike is clearly showing Medarda's fist. Mommy will be VERY active in this early on.

The previous fist image with projectile launch happens right after those shots. I wonder if that contraption has anything to do with Medarda instead of Jinx or someone else, because poison (spilling from the mouth?) is also a very Noxian thing (thank you, Singed)

What's with Smeech getting SUCH a highlight? What a dope design. Also that shot is the same colours and location style as Sevika shooting with her Jinx augment, so I am wondering if Sevika won't be the one killing him.

Freedom fight Jinx style art? Wow. With blue haired minions behind her? Unexpected! I wonder what Ekko and his firelights think about this, and whether they'll take her in despite everything. This seems to be very Zaun vs. Piltover now.

Our only proof of Viktor in season 2. He's in the Zaun depth with caped figures, most likely shimmer addicts. I wonder if the explosion is him saving them and starting his machine cult, or him defending himself. Anyway, he survives, and I also wonder how many physical augments he needs to heal himself from the explosion, courtesy of the hex core?

Of course the only proof we need that Jayce is alive is that Cait has an Arcane sniper rifle. I don't see Viktor making her one after the explosion........

All in all, interesting stuff!!

[forsaken-headcanons]

I had a simple idea: what if the survivors and killers swapped roles? And that idea proceeded to snowball into a full-blown yap sesh. I’m so silly when it comes to Forsaken, y’all 😋

(This is a VERY long post, so it’s been split up into two sections. Hope you don’t mind, mod!)

“KILLERS”

Noob - Picture a lone noob, lost in the spectre’s domain. No food. No shelter. Nothing. They finally come across another survivor…or should I say sustenance. That’s right. I took Noob’s whole ‘eating snacks’ thing and turned them into a cannibal. How fun! ☺️ Kind-of takes the role of Jason with a hint of Guest 666? That comment will probably change when 666 comes out, but for now, their kit revolves around tracking down survivors one by one. They can turn mostly invisible for a short period, too.

Chance - Two Face with a touch of Jigsaw. Gambling has completely overtaken his life, with his favourite being betting on lives. Never his, of course. And gods forbid he loses… Doesn’t really take the role of anyone. They specialize in ranged attacks, but he has a melee attack, too. He still has the coin flip, but it’s used to give him a random effect (can be anything from speed I to blindness III) and the only way to get rid of said-abilities is Hat Fix. But use it wisely, as that gets rid of the good abilities, too. The only way to earn bullets is by hitting survivors. He can store a max of 3, just like before. No misfiring (🎉), but the gun attack is probably hella telegraphed.

Guest 1337 - Gotta love a corrupt police officer! Well, soldier. But still- I regretfully can’t say who this guy’s main inspiration was, but I can imagine him working closely with Builderman to enact their shared (and crooked) sense of justice. His gameplay loop revolves around running down + stunning survivors. He doesn’t need to block to do a punch anymore. Instead, his block will actually give brief slowness + a highlighted aura to anyone foolish enough to hit him while it’s active. His punch (still) has a delay, but considering how it stuns survivors, I’d say it’s worth it.

Two Time - So obsessed with death/rebirth, they drove themselves mad and proceeded to go on a killing spree to ‘share this truth amongst the nonbelievers’. Mildly inspired by the Cult of the Lamb bishops, and takes the role of Jason (aka the free killer). Bro just runs around with a dagger lol. Though they have a considerably low health pool for a killer, TT makes up for it by gaining access to their second life form upon dying. They move much faster while in this state, so it’s actually advised to NOT stun them all willy-nilly, lest you unintentionally buff the killer.

Elliot - Hell hath no fury like an overworked minimum wage employee. Elliot had enough, and now EVERYONE’S gonna pay for it. Especially vengeful towards c00lkidd, and would play a special theme upon him being the last survivor. Sort of takes the role of John Doe? I mean- he revolves around dropping poisoned pizzas/other pizza-themed traps to slow down and weaken survivors.

Builderman - Oh, shoot! He has his banhammer! Oh no! He’s using it on everyone! Builderman believes that his ticket out of here involves purging the spectre’s domain of evil…but has since developed the morality of a corrupt judge. How lovely! As previously mentioned, he works closely with Guest 1337 to achieve his goals. A mix between John Doe and c00lkidd. He still builds machines, but they act like motion sensors for the most part.

Shedletsky - A self-proclaimed master swordsman, with an ego to match. Shed let the power of being an admin get to his head. He’s the most important person in the room, and will strike down anyone who says otherwise. Takes the role of 1x1x1x1. He’d use different SFOTH swords to do different attacks (Venomshank for basic swinging, Icedagger for Entanglement, Darkheart for Mass Infection,  Illumina for Unstable Eye, and Ghostwalker for Rejuvenate the Rotten). Oh, and someone snatched his chicken. I wonder who? 🤔 

007n7 - Slightly inspired by Bacon General from The Last Guest, this version of 07 wasn’t quite ready to retire, even when a baby was left on his doorstep. If anything, a child meant that he could pass down his skills to someone else. And thus he continued to reign chaos all around him, all the while pressuring his son to do the same. As a killer, he still uses scripts and exploits to give him an unfair advantage. Takes the role of c00lkidd, and uses the same moves as OG kidd for the most part. Instead of summoning clones, he instead teleports to the closest survivor (which briefly stuns him upon arriving, just to nerf it a little).

— Respawn Anon

I think you absolutely cooked on all of these. Specifically Guest 1337, Shedletsky and Builderman. These are so creative.

[chaeyoei]

Helooo, I’m back with more Jing yuan food. Imagine a Jing yuan that turned into a cat because some assassin accidentally mixed up the poisons with a transformation potion. So you have to take care of him since well…ur his partner. If I was taking care of cat yuan, I’d tie a red ribbon on him just like his human form. Cat yuan food fur u. Bai <33

Lmao you're keeping my mediocre writing spirit up oh well. Grammatical mistakes obv.

"Honey.. where are you?" You searched through your house. Getting slightly concerned as Jing Yuan was nowhere to be found. He could be in his office due to an emergency but he took a day off today.

"Meow."

That startled you. Did he bring home a cat?

You opened the bedroom door to be greeted by a white cat standing ontop of an unconscious body.

"Jing Yuan!" You rushed forward thinking that the person was Jing Yuan but upon getting closer and closer, your brows furrowed and your steps hatled.

It was a man dressed in black, not to mention he had a weapon. You crouched near it, trying to see the face underneath. There's a chance it could be him.

"Meow!" The cat jumped on you. Occupying your plam by jumping on it. It was so befuddling.

Something told you that this feline was your husband. The suspicion rose when you realise that cats don't have an eye covered by their hair. "Jing Yuan?" You hoped that this cat could understand you and he actually nodded with a meow.

Well whatever that was, you called the Knights and the man caught was an assassin. It took a day but you connected the dots and confirmed that the white feline was indeed your husband.

Cat Jing Yuan.. oh boy. Im going to keep it short because I have to sleep.

After coming to the realisation you had no choice but take care of your now cat husband. But for Jing Yuan..

This was a vacation he never knew he needed.

Getting to lay in your wife's lap all day, getting hugs, kisses and pats and having to not worry about work. Sign him up.

"Meow." The cat purred feeling your fingers glide through his fur.

"You're really enjoying this, huh? The assassin that mixed the chemical is being held in the shackling prison."

Honestly, he loves that stupid assassin now for giving him a free vacation. Maybe, he can ask the dude for one more....

Fu Xuan and Yanqing.

"Lady Y/N, do you know where General Jing Yuan is?" The blonde child asked, in search of his master.

"..."

"He needs to get back to work. Everyone's asking where he is." The Master Diviner grumbled, distressed by the intense questioning she has to answer.

"He... umm." You glanced at the cat who shook his head no. "So, Jing Yuan was poisoned by an assassin in his sleep, he's in no state of working."

"What?!" Both of them shouted in unison.

"General is bed ridden?" Yanqing was concerned.

"..That's not good." Fu Xuan sighed. Her frustration having turned into somewhat sympathy. "I need to keep my omnisa activated every now and then."

"I'll tell the other generals about that situation." She added.

Watching this in your arms, Jing Yuan felt a little guilty. This was becoming his guilty pleasure at this rate.

"Oh Lady Y/N, did you get a new cat?" Yanqing changed the topic.

"Yes."

"..Strange. It almost looks like him." The Lady Diviner was catching on.

Now to the thing you were talking about.

"..Jing Yuan, would you mind a red collar?" You asked the fluffy feline occupying your lap. You had to ask because it would look cute on him but did he want it as well?

"Meow." He agreed after a minute.

You giddily put the collar and ofcourse had to take a picture. Maybe you can collage the photo of human him and cat him and use it as phone wallpaper.

Lingsha. Idk why but I had to do it.

"Hmm.." The lady giggled. "Almost amusing to see the Loufu general be reduced to a mere cat."

"How long do you think the postion lasts, Lady Lingsha?"

"It's been 2 days, you say. The potion's effect lasts for a week so 5 more days remain until the Loufu General becomes himself." The Cauldron Master answered with an amused look.

Fu Xuan.. Again.

"So it was you, General." Fu Xual glared at the cat. Jing Yuan hid behind your figure.

"I apologise for lying, Lady Fu."

She sighed. "I suppose there's nothing to be done. How more until he turns back?"

"4 more days."

The pink haired woman shook her head in defeat.

I know it makes no sense.

People were beggining to question you as well. It was a bit overwhelming at times. But luckily, your cat husband was there to be your plushie.

Things he doesn't like as a cat.

Now being pampered is fine and all but it started to get boring when he had nothing to do but laze around. He also couldn't embrace you or keep you in his arms and lap anymore (obviously). It was.. irritating to say the least.

Yep I'm not happy with this. I'll update this if I can.