#anyways any assistance would be HIGHLY appreciated

[savrenim]

OKAY my fellow svsss peeps I have some scum villain/ general xianxia questions if anyone wants to help a pal out

this is mostly bc Naming My Beloathed

my understanding of how courtesy names work are that in general, courtesy names are given at the age of 20 bc that's Reaching Adulthood. cq sect ALSO does a thing where each generation of peak lords ascends together, retires together, and get cool matching peak lord names.  (a) is it the case then that they do things weird and don't get courtesy names until they all become peak lords, independent of age? (b) related does anyone know what age they are becoming peak lords bc my assumption is that peak lords would want full adults who were already immortals and had been training for the position for at least a decade or two, not barely-more-than-teenagers who given min age for joining had been at the sect for a decade at most 

does anyone have name-picking resources besides the standard "go to wikipedia and look up the longest list of real historical figures, and then any name that you like the Vibes of make sure that person wasn't famous and if the name has a meaning that it's a meaning that also you like the Vibes of, and then go with that" bc that works well but the more options I have the better I'm So Bad At Names

again similarly are demon names in svsss clearly distinct from human names to anyone who is used to xianxia/wuxia naming conventions or would the same strategy for finding human names work for demon names

Is there a generic name that means "No One"? I'm searching for something like Naasade is in Mando'a in Star Wars, or like in a setting that pulls from Latin and Roman names saying your name is "Nemo", or probably more the vibe of going with "John Smith" rather than "John Doe" in English but that sort of "I am telling you a name but it is very clear that it is Not My Name because it is the commonly understood Generic Name in this language"? Or does that not exist / you would just go by a title like daozhang if you're a cultivator etc etc?

Is there any particular distinction between/ reason why you would pick one over the other of using xiao', a', or -er if giving someone a cutesy nickname?

Is there any clear canonical timeline for events that took place before Luo Binghe's birth, besides the relative order that they took place in (ie number of years between events, how old the supporting cast was when they happened, etc) or even a partial timeline or even common accepted fanon for what ages people were when various things happened?

[o4i0n]

do u guys think miguel gets hard if ur nice to him ., miguel nation what do we think 

reblogs, comments & likes r highly appreciated !

it’s not like you being nice is anything out of the ordinary—if anything, it’s one of the things that comes the most naturally to you and what others notice whenever they catch you around. your care comes in the form of small, gentle reminders, shared smiles when your eyes meet another’s, or asking how things are when you pass by someone else to make simple conversation. nothing special, really, but it’s sweet. 

miguel o’hara thinks that it’s too sweet, but it’s more of a ‘him’ problem, if anything. he’s not even supposed to be this worked up over something as careless as your hand brushing against his shoulder to let him know that you’re there for him that’s coupled with a chipper ‘bye!’ thrown his way before you turn around and leave, but he is. every time you leave him be, the throbbing ache that settles between his legs grows a lot heavier, and he knows that if he deals with it, it would just make things worse. 

it’s not like he has any plans to stop, though. he may be growing tired of the countless times he’s caught himself thinking about you, the image of your pretty self occupying his mind so much that he swears he sees you even when he closes his eyes, but the scenarios that he’s so keen on turning into a reality make the job a whole lot easier. there may be a twinge of guilt that crosses his mind after he spills into his hand once he’s done fucking himself raw into his fist, but he tries not to thinking about it too much. even when you’re not there, you’re still assisting him in some way. 

which is why he thinks that the universe is playing one massive, fucked-up prank on him when you chose the worst time to drop by his office—that dark, secluded area away from everyone else that he considers an office, anyway—and get greeted with the sight of him biting down on his fist while he furiously ruts into his hand in an attempt to get off. the need that emanates off his body is palpable; no matter how fast he’s stroking himself or how desperately he’s letting his fingers swipe over his leaking tip as pre-come trickles down the remainder of his length, he still can’t come. right now, the sounds that he’s making have more emotion than in any of the words he’s spoken to you, or to anyone, for that matter. it doesn’t make it easier that he’s suddenly terrified of how you’d treat him after seeing that spectacle of pure desperation on his part once he notices you’re there. 

but you, being you, are nothing short of understanding. when miguel asks you to leave (well, he kind of shouts at you because you were never supposed to see anything like that), you’re so caught up by what you saw that you stupidly offer to help him out, your voice and demeanor taking on your trademark shyness. 

miguel is many things, and you know him to be an incredibly efficient man. everything that follows is a blur, and you end up sprawled out on his desk, your clothes haphazardly tugged out of the way so that he could take up up on your offer. 

“you’re too fuckin’ nice,” he whines, wasting no time to peel away your panties and drag his fingers over your entrance. it almost sounds like he’s complaining at the fact that you are the way you are, but he doesn’t say anything. as his fingers curiously prod at your pussy to spread you nicely for him, his free hand is wrapped around his cock, dripping with his own arousal as it lays heavy in his fingers. 

a soft whimper slips out of your lips as he toys with your body, and it’s only sinking in now that you’re not sure if you can take all of him. but he needs help, right? he needs to feel better, so you keep your legs apart for him while he rubs the head of his cock on your sensitive clit. 

when he hears that, it takes all of his self-control to not sink his cock deep into your sweet little cunt right then and there. “i just—s’too much for a guy to take,” he mumbles, trying to push his tip past your soaked folds, because he’s so nice to let you off easy for now since he knows he’s big. “i never know if you’re teasing or not.” and it’s true; the way you tread so carefully and so gently with everyone, especially with him, makes him wonder whether or not this is your way of being coy. “it’s like you’re begging me to fuck you.” 

miguel doesn’t know where all these words are coming from because he knows for a fact that he’s not all that open with anything, much less with things this personal. however, there’s something about the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes and being completely exposed in a way he’s fantasized about for so long that it sends him reeling. 

you’ve been so nice for him, going above and beyond for something you don’t even need to do; of course he needs to return the favor by making you feel good too! it’s only fair, after all, that he shows his very specific way of thanking you. 

the moment you give him the go, he slides right into you, your wetness and his pre-come making it easier for him to finally feel what it is he’s been dreaming about for so long. he can’t stop the low moan that escapes him when he feels your warm walls enveloping his cock, your pussy so accommodating and welcoming, just like you. he’s so relieved that it’s not his hand that’s making him feel this way anymore; immediately, he wants to bottom out, to bury himself so deep inside you that he’s positive his tip nudges against your cervix. he never thought that you’d be so kind as to let him fuck you, and he’s so eager to draw out all those sounds and reactions when you let him take you. 

he pushes in deeper, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit because he knows it’ll make you whine. “don’t think i can control myself, pretty girl,” he groans out, all the sensations hitting him like a ton of bricks, and he’s resisting the urge to move right after as you’re adjusting to him. you’re equally as fucked out as miguel and he’s not even all the way in yet. “i won’t stop until you’re crying for me, okay?” 

first time dabbling into smut writing so please be kind nyahaha also if there r grammatical errors no there aren't haha wdym

[sanjisboyfie]

∞ SNSTV : first year, first mission

this is the first chapter of my series "sensitive" (SNSTV = sensitive). since it's a series, this first chapter is going to be pretty "boring" in terms of romance, but it still full of satosugu interactions with reader...but probably not favorable ones as you'll see soon lol. anyway ! stay tuned for the next chapters because i will have a lot of fun fleshing this out hehehe

first year satosugu x male reader

-> prev

( if u squint )

“since shoko is a very valuable sorcerer, she must refrain from participating in highly dangerous missions,” the only girl in the room smiled at the information, sneakily flipping off her male classmates. satoru was annoyed, suguru was indifferent, and [name] seemed to be the only one with half a mind to care for the woman’s safety.

“her abilities are quite special,” he compliments, making yaga hum in agreement and shoko wink at him in appreciation.

satoru pretends to barf in his mouth.

“that leaves the three of you, [last name], gojo, and geto — this mission is going to be your first one without supervision. it should show to be easy enough. you are to simply monitor and oversea a specific section of the closed down mall and exorcise any curses that are roaming. it has been closed down far too long and kids are starting to wander in there without any idea of what they’re walking into. for the safety of the people and the community, you must exterminate every curse that dwells there. you are all permitted in using any cursed tool, if you wish, but we highly encourage you learn to harness your abilities as soon as possible.”

satoru pretended to barf in his mouth again. doing things for “normal” civilians was never his most ideal way of spending his time. but unless he wanted to hear a nagging from yaga, he had to suck it up. formal missions were hard to dodge, anyway. meanwhile, suguru hummed in understanding, seeing why this would need an urgent team.

and [name] was just excited to finally get his hands on his cursed tool again.

the three were escorted to the abandoned mall via their driver, who told them to call him if anything were to happen and they needed immediate assistance.

“i don’t get why crybaby over here had to come,” satoru huffs, looking at the mall with disinterest. it’s unclear whether or not he’s talking to himself or his other classmate. either way, it got a reaction from [name] who was within earshot.

“why don’t you just go fuck off gojo,” [name] snarled, holding onto the scythe in his hands with a tight grip. he expertly twirled it around, using the weight of it and basic understanding of gravity, to make it so that the sharp blade was pointed right at gojo’s neck.

hiding his surprise at the sudden action, gojo just smirked and glared at [name].

“you’re just scared because you know i’m right. the moment things go to shit, you’re gonna go running with your tail in between your legs like a poor puppy. and i’ll be there to laugh,” gojo said with a taunting cackle, the ugly sound rising from his throat making both suguru and [name] cringe.

“i’ll slice your throat open, i mean it.”

“love to see you try, piece of shit!”

“alright! enough fighting, the both of you! seriously? are we on a mission to exorcise some curses or is it my personal responsibility to babysit the two of you?” suguru sighed, rubbing his forehead in stress, “can we all just do this and go home? i think it’s obvious neither of you want to be here any longer,”

satoru rolled his eyes at suguru’s “nice guy” perona, internally calling bullshit on his entire personality. god, satoru hated those type of guys the most. the ones who think they’re superior just because they’re more mature. it pissed him off that suguru had an ability so strong too...talk about waste of potential!

well, too bad for both [name] and suguru because the one who was most superior was obviously him! he was gojo satoru, after all.

“whatever, weaklings. why don’t you sit back and just let me take care of this? there’s no need for your abilities when i could exterminate every curse in the vacinity,” satoru was confident when speaking his words, but if you were to tell him to actually do that…he might not have been able to.

hey! he was a first year and just recently allowed to go completely “ham” on using his powerful abilities. he didn’t have the bestest grasp on control or output, but he did know that his technique easily overpowered the other twos’.

“hm, to make it interesting, why don’t we have a competition?”

the competitive side of [name] and satoru shone bright after suguru said that. taking their perked up heads and attentive ears as a sign to continue on, he proposed, “whoever exorcises the most curses won’t have to do chores around the dorm for a whole week and all that responsibility will fall onto the losers.”

“a whole month,” [name] bargained, earning a shrug of approval from suguru. and satoru laughed that obnoxious laugh of his again, shouting a “bring it on” before putting on his sunglasses.

“you two are going down!”

“what does cockiness get you besides hateful stares, gojo?”

“geto-san’s right, you gojo bitch! bite your tongue and choke on your own blood, fool!!”

on the count of 3, the three students were setting off into separate directions of the mall and finding as many curses as possible to exterminate. for how vast the entire property was, this could take as long as a couple of hours…if the three students were normal jujutsu sorcerers.

but when you put a narcissist, someone with a superiority complex, and a hot-headed individual in a high stakes competition, you get the mall that was full of curses being free of said curses in under two hours (an hour and ten minutes, to be exact. to cover a 800,000 square feet land full of extremely lower grade curses).

at the beginning of the competition, [name] would lure out the curses by simply baiting them with his “naivety” of them being there. they’d pounce to attack, happy to find an unsuspecting prey, before [name] would slash them across their forms and kill them with his cursed tool. he imagines by the end of the hour, he had already taken care of over a couple dozen very low grade curses.

just as he was about to maneuver around and slice another one up, something had already took care of the problem.

“gonna need to try harder than that, crybaby,” satoru taunts, smirking from a floor above as he easily blew up the curse that was about to attack [name]. the man grits his teeth in annoyance while the white haired individual just shrugs in pride, “you can’t even look out for yourself, need me to save you, huh?”

“fuck off!” [name] sent a strong gust of wind satoru’s way via swinging his scythe towards satoru, creating almost a slash of air. his tormentor only laughed at the attempt in attacking him, flipping out of the way and then walking past [name] with a smug grin.

as he disappeared from [name]’s sight, he felt himself get more and more annoyed and angry at his predicament. of course, he had to be stuck in an abandoned place with his bully and not be able to leave until the ending of their mission. [name] huffed, feeling an unfair amount of tears reach his eyes.

at least satoru wouldn’t be around to see him cry like a pathetic loser, he thought to himself. he shook his head a couple of times, forcing the tears down with a clearing of his throat and rough wipe of his face. it was a pain to live such an emotionally unstable life — as if he had any control over things like that.

“so you really are a crybaby?” suguru’s voice broke his silent sobs, making him whip his head up and glare at the man approaching him. seeing his obvious apprehension to him being there, suguru put his hands up in surrender to show he meant no harm, “there’s no reason for you to be crying, why are you crying?”

“obviously i know i have no reason to cry, idiot, how annoying do you think it is for me to have to do it when i have no reason to?!”

suguru blinked, confusion panted on his face, “you have to cry?” putting emphasis on ‘have’ it was obvious suguru didn’t see a point in such a thing, especially right now.

“you wouldn’t get it, so just leave me alone,” [name] said, waving his hand and turning around to look for more curses. suguru had an odd look on his face as he watched [name] walk away, an unreasonable amount of cursed energy surrounding the previously crying man.

the ravenette truly wondered what his life story was, he was just so intriguing. a sorcerer coming from one of the strongest clans in the jujutsu world was walking away from him with his head held down, shoulders shaking, and tears dripping onto the floor.

“what’s his deal,” suguru hums to himself, flicking his wrist in the direction of a miniature curse that was coming towards him and easily eliminating it from the picture.

[name] continued expertly swinging his scythe around whenever he saw a curse coming towards him, not flinching as it died in front of him each time. it was obvious he was most comfortable with such a weapon, despite it being a couple times larger than his smaller frame. with how easily he handled it, though, it was somewhat obvious that he had been training with the weapon for a long time.

“oiii!!! i finished up on my part of the mall,” satoru shouted, his whiny voice echoing in the empty walls.

“same here!!”

[name] looked down at the pathetic curse that was shyly standing far away from him. it had an odd figure, a spherical body that was being held up by skinny blue legs that were wobbling from the abnormal amount of weight that they had to hold up. it was muttering some stuff about the fitting room and how the clothes weren’t fitting, making [name] believe it probably formed from the stuff people would feel about themselves in the fitting rooms.

he sighed, walking ahead and crouching in front of the curse. the scythe remained unmoving as it was leaning against his shoulder, weakly swinging in the air at the heavy weight of the blade hanging behind his head. he kept it secure with his arm over the handle portion, making sure that it didn’t fall over.

the curse reached its arm out to touch him, but with a simple shifting of his head into the opposite direction, [name] stopped the possible contact. instead, he just put his finger to the pudgy flesh of the curse’s body, grimacing at the feeling. and with a simple “shot” coming from his fingers, the curse began to flail in pain and agony. until it turned into nothing but ash and dust, being blown away by a passing breeze.

“hey, what was your total count?” satoru’s voice taunted from behind him, not really reading the energy in the room. [name] stood up, a completely dead look in his eyes. it almost shocked satoru enough to shut him up, but it would take more than a miserable face to ever make him close his loud mouth.

“i came up to about 60,” suguru said, “a bunch of small insignificant ones, really,”

“and i got to the eighties,” satoru grinned, roughly shoving his shoulder into suguru’s. the black haired man only rolled his eyes, “what about you? i doubt above thirty, am i right?”

in reality, [name] had killed more curses than the two combined. but he susposes that he had an advantage, wielding a cursed tool rather than using his actual technique. well, except to kill that last one. plus his high sensitivity in reading where the curses were gave him an advantage in finding the prey faster than the other two.

but instead of telling the truth and gloating, like he should have done, he just shrugged, “i didn’t keep track — i guess you win, gojo,”

that made the strong sorcerer pump his fist into the air, chanting about how [name] and suguru were going to be stuck doing his laundry for a month. he was too caught up in his celebration to notice how sunken in [name]’s face really looked.

it wasn’t just his eyes that appeared dead, but it was as if the color drained from his face, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he was weakly walking towards them.

suguru noticed, though. and it intrigued him as he peered behind [name]’s subtly limping figure, catching a pile of ashes that was blowing in the wind. he couldn’t connect the dots completely, but he did know that the two things he noticed were connected in some way.

“feeling alright? losing sucks,” suguru asked, trying to talk about more light hearted things in the face of his incredibly sullen classmate.

“yeah, it’s whatever, i guess,”

there was definitely a difference. less colorful choices of vocabulary were being used and suguru thought that was the most noticeable change in [name]’s demeanor. he wasn’t cursing satoru out for being an egotistical piece of shit with the biggest ego in the world. he was just blankly walking past the bragging man with not a care in the world.

suguru bit his lip, stopping himself from asking more questions and instead reaching into his pocket to contact their original driver to tell them that the job was done. and while suguru was theorizing all of these things to himself, it was obvious satoru didn’t even spend a second thinking about it. if anything he welcomed the new, depressed [name]. it made for perfect bullying material for him!

that sadist, suguru grimly thought in his mind as he listened to the phone ring. he informed the driver to come pick them up before turning back around to watch satoru and [name] interact with one another. with how off he was acting, it was a surprise to see satoru still adamant on tormenting [name]. wasn’t it obvious already he was not himself? couldn’t gojo just give him a break? but then again, why wasn’t [name] sticking up for himself? he wasn’t a little kid that needed suguru’s saving, but at this point, he might as well.

“c’mon, gojo, quit it already,” suguru spoke up, lightly slapping the man’s shoulder. satoru didn’t like that, though, obnoxiously stomping over to stand toe-to-toe with suguru.

“hah? c’mon, geto, you’ve got to see that this is a real pathetic scene, isn’t it? he can’t do anything in his life but constantly lose. it makes you wonder how it’s even possible for us to exist in the same world as him; the strongests and the weakest standing to be in the same jujutsu class? what a joke,”

suguru grimaced, pushing satoru backwards to create some space in between them, “that’s not even funny, what’s your issue, gojo? can’t you just shut up for a couple of seconds? would it really kill you?”

satoru pretended to barf, glaring at suguru, “oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re one of those righteous folks that sticks up for the weaker people?”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you — i don’t even know you,” suguru mumbles, not wanting to entertain him further. creating an argument would only make their moods worsen and become more bitter towards each other. in the midst of his annoyance, suguru glances towards [name] and scoffed to himself.

it was a bit pathetic of [name] to not even speak up for himself, he’ll admit that. but he wasn’t going to bully him just for that. he just wished that he had spoken up for himself in this moment, it would’ve at least been a sign to satoru that he wasn’t to be messed with. that he was strong, to some extent. but instead the man just stood there and took all the insults.

it made suguru both annoyed and angered.

why couldn’t [name] stand up for himself now? he was doing so before so easily and naturally. but now, it was as if all the energy was sucked out of him…

the ride to the jujutsu high was silent. and [name] seperated from the two the moment they stepped foot onto the school grounds. suguru remained stoic as he watched [name] walk away while satoru next to him only hummed in disinterest.

”i’m telling you, suguru, to not waste your time defending him. he’s got no place in the jujutsu world, weak sorceres like him that prove to be useless have no place standing next to us — or even shoko for that matter. she may not have fighting prowess, but her natural ability is remarkable. with [name]…there’s nothing remarkable about him. it’s as if he’s a normal human, he’s ordinary and dull. don’t waste your breath with him.”

that was all satoru said to suguru before walking off, his hands behind his head as he walked in such a lax position. suguru stood silent for a couple of moments before snapping himself out of his stupor and going to his room.

he looked at the room a couple of doors down from him, [name]’s room, and his lips were drawn into a thin, straight line. he entered his comfortable room without wasting another second.

he didn’t know that behind [name]’s door, the man had his knees brought up to his chest as he sobbed his heart out on the floor. the screen of his small tv was blaring back at him in the dark room, the screen being the only source of light. he was watching his favorite show, one that made him laugh and happy. but tears streamed down his face as he had to choke back on his sobs.

he tried forcing a smile on his face, making an unsettling expression a couple of times before he gave up.

he always hated this part.

but he had to persevere. he moved to his small music player at his bedside, grabbing the headphones that worked alongside them and falling onto his bed. he put the flimsy over-ear devices on, sighing as he looked up at the blank ceiling. soon, a compilation of his favorites songs filled his ears and he tried to be content with the feeling.

‘immerse yourself. and you’ll be okay in the morning.’

it was a mantra he repeated to himself until he felt himself fall into sleep.

he really hated his innate cursed technique.

-

sorry if u hate emotional mcs...this guy is gonna be one. but for explainable reason, trust! he's still going to be strong, too, though, so look forward to that! i can't wait to make him go #insane <3 but other than that, really fun to write since it shows the dynamic i imagined satosugu to have in their first years of jujutsu high !!! since the whole incident happens in their second year i rlly wanna focus on building the relationships in the first year and stuff, so things might be a lil slow to start, but when it starts ... it'll start, trust. tysm for being os patient w this even if it is short affa. i look forward to writing longer, more deeeeeep chapters in the future. much love <3

[shippy-pjo-shipper]

Liper (Leo x Piper) headcanons?

(I am a "Piper's memories with Jason really happened but Hera replaced Leo by Jason in them" truther, just so everyone knows. So I'll go with an AU where they realize that)

They're the funniest, no debate. I hate how little we saw of Piper's mischief potential and it always shined at best with Leo. Nothing mean and always done with an idea of justice behind it, but always aiming at being the funniest they can.

Leo would be the best support Piper could have dreamt of to support her when she discovers her powers. He knows the feeling of scaring yourself with your godly powers and fearing that you could unintentionally lead to the demise of innocent people.

My favorite headcanon about Liper might just be them stranding on Ogygia together. I LOVE the concept of it. Maybe when they both still doubt the worth of their feelings after they forgot them, maybe when they doubt their young relationship because of the stress of the quest. Anyway the banters/jealousy/bitching would be priceless in this scenario. No idea how it'd end, but I can see Calypso being such a good friend to them and helping them strengthen their bond.

I see them enjoying cooking together. They both were often alone growing up and had to find ways to take care or themselves. Piper had more resources growing up so she might have the better recipe ideas, but Leo is always a great assistant (when he's not wasting all the preparation away to play with it and mess with her).

Festus and Piper have a great bond too. I can see him only listening to her beside Leo, and often just to mess with him.

Highly protective of each other, HIGHLY. Piper kind if always was, back when he was her only friend and it carried on. Leo's thing at first is more to take the attention away from her when she's in trouble, but mainly back when their main troubles were high school bullies. But once they enter the halfblood world and that he learns to have a hold on his power, Leo can become crazy frightening if someone frightens his beauty queen.

Now listen to me, listen to me : ....shopping trips. Just picture the shopping trips. Piper learning to appreciate that more when she's with Leo who spends his time goofing around, improvised photo sessions, challenge "who will put together the most hideous outfit" or "the one recreating Jason's style the quickest wins". They'd spend days at the mall goofing around, probably to end up buying not even half of what they put on though.

Everyone knows they're each other's home. Piper never felt at ease with her father, neither in the Aphrodite cabin, and on the other hand Leo of course never had a great relationship with his family, and even if he loves his halfblood siblings, has a hard time considering family sometimes. Piper is the one person he chose and will always choose. And for her, Leo is the only one she will tell anything. He j ows everything about her, because she told him or because he just reads her like no one.

Leo is Piper's first and best cheerleader whenever she fights. Piper is Leo's loyal assistant whenever he works in his bunker, always very instinctively giving him the tools she slowly learnt the name of whenever he asks.

The mainly train together. Piper is better with a weapon, Leo with his power. Thanks to Piper he starts to be really good with a spear, which he likes because he can light it on fire to scare people away easily.

Road trip pals! Piper loves to drive, Leo has the means to pimp any car at its best and more. It's always a lot of fun to travel together, no matter the monster on the way.

Annabeth is the one most often trapped between the two. She's very close to both of them for different reasons: Piper is a confident while Leo is a work partner. But very often the other joins in on the fun when it was supposedly a one on one moment. Sometimes it can get annoying, but you quickly have to accept that the two are a pair.

They're each other's shoulder to cry on and ear to listen. But they often don't need to talk to understand each other, just laying their head on the other is enough, and just listening to their heartbeat eases their nerves.

Liper might just be the easiest ship to write for cause they just have everything. They're supportive, fun, have a special bond, had a relationship before the books so we can build a lot around them. They're definitely in my top canon brotps and I'm sorry but I stick to the opinion that they're better than Jasper

[warabidakihime]

Lost in Paradise

★ characters: uzui tengen x reader X sanemi shinazugawa | modern au

★ plot summary: what happens when two people are left alone in a deserted island with no way of communicating with the outside world? they fall in love, of course.

★ fic playlist: TBA

★ content warnings : smut, profanity, implied adultery/cheating, slightly graphic.

a/n: this was just an idea that came up to me randomly and i immediately want to write it, so here it is. i know i have a lot of fics uploaded at the moment and i'm so behind on updates, but i can't help it. i also miss writing for tengen, but don't worry, once things have finally calmed down, i will get back to writing. i also really don't want to force myself to write as it will affect the quality of the story so i opted to write only when i'm in the mood.

anyway! i hope you enjoy this one the way you enjoyed parallel lines and invisible strings! also, speaking of tengen, the epilogue for invisible strings is currently underway so keep an eye on that too.

as always! comments and feed backs are highly appreciated! &lt;3

--

“Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Rome. We are now inviting those passengers with small children and any passengers requiring special assistance to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes. Thank you.”

"That's our cue. Let's go, babe." You looked up from the book you were reading, still a bit dazed as you were so deep into the novel you were reading. Still, you held out your hand to your fiance, to which Sanemi gladly intertwined your fingers as you walked and boarded the plane.

He looked over to you with a loving smile on his face and said, "Let me guess, you want to sit by the window?"

You giggled, "You know me so well."

"I learned my lesson the last time I took the window seat." Sanemi chuckled

It was during your first anniversary trip to Peru when your fiance took the window seat. You said you didn't mind, but it was written all over your face that you were slightly upset at that time. Since then, Sanemi has let you sit by the window on your succeeding trips.

Window seats are universally loved by nearly everyone, but you have a very specific reason as to why you prefer to sit there than anywhere else. You're a writer yourself, and when you travel, you like to look around as much as possible in hopes of finding your next inspiration for your next novel. It can be something as miniscule as a street sign or something grandiose like witnessing someone get proposed to.

Your last novel was inspired by a woman jogging with her golden retriever, and as usual, your book was a success and was hailed as your best-selling piece. You won multiple awards, held multiple book signings both locally and internationally, and guested on multiple interviews. Just a few years ago, your debut novel was turned into a movie, and it was a blockbuster hit.

"And that's why you're the best fiance ever." you said as you gave him a smooch on the cheeks after settling down on your seat.

"I used to love being called the best boyfriend ever, but being called the best fiance is better."

"Wait til I call you the best husband ever after we get married." You said with a chuckle.

"Oh, I would love that. Can't wait to see you walk down that aisle; just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes." Sanemi confessed as he sported a dreamy look on his face, to which you responded by giving him another kiss, but on his lips this time.

"Me too, baby."

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 89B with service from Tokyo to Rome. We are currently third in line for takeoff and are expected to be in the air in approximately fourteen hours time. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays be in the upright position for takeoff. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for choosing  Japan Airlines. Enjoy your flight.”

You met Sanemi through a mutual friend when he tagged along on your trip to Okinawa. He was the best friend of your best friend's boyfriend. You didn't like him at first because he was so grouchy when you first met, but as you got to know him more over the trip, you realized he was just as soft as he was gruff; it's just not his style to be upfront about his emotions.

Sanemi was the first to confess.

After your trip to Okinawa, you gave each other's phone numbers and social media profiles and have kept in touch ever since. You're not one to spend ungodly hours on your phone, but after meeting him, you would check your phone for any notifications from him. It came to a point where you would check your phone first thing in the morning after waking up.

Sanemi fell first, but you definitely fell harder.

Mitsuri, your best friend showed no mercy in teasing you when you first opened up about your budding infatuation towards his friend because you really did dislike him when you first met him.

You were so hellbent on not associating yourself with Sanemi ever again, but here you are, three years later, happily engaged to him.

Love truly moves in mysterious ways.

Sanemi kissed you back, "I love you so much. Thank you for saying yes."

Feeling your own tears well up in your eyes, you tried to brush it off by giggling, "I love you too, Sanemi."

*

Three hours into your flight from Tokyo to Rome, your book had been forgotten, and you were now snuggled close to Sanemi, who was reading the newest reports about his favorite basketball team on his tablet. He was also doing some extra work to kill time. 

You don't know shit about basketball or sports in general, but you don't mind listening to him babble on about his hobbies the way he would listen to you fangirl about the novels you've been reading.

While he watched the video, he had one arm comfortably wrapped around your shoulders, lulling you to sleep as he urged you to take a nap because you wouldn't be able to reach your destination for another eleven hours or so.

You were finally sound asleep when the pilot's voice broke out across the plane, his voice clearly tinged with urgency.

"Good day, everyone. I'm sorry to interrupt your peaceful trip, but I'd like to let everyone know that we will be experiencing some hard turbulence, but don't worry, we will do our best to keep everyone safe. Make sure your seatbelts are properly fastened—"

Everything unfolded so quickly.

You were about to turn to face Sanemi when he seized you in his arms, and everything went black in an instant.

*

“Y/N!!!”

You screamed as you bolted awake from your deep slumber

"Oh, you're finally awake."

--

taglist: @milkyybuns trishiepo0 @babygirl-panda19 @hypnocountrymusicfunnyfan @exodarkwolf16 @qdreamueen @vesta-ro

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Next Chapter

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Read my other Tengen Fics:

Parallel Lines

Invisible Strings (Parallel Lines Sequel)

[lightlycareless]

Yo but nerdy incel gammer naoya x bimbo reader 🫦

Heya anon!

I'm sorry this took me far longer than anticipated 💀 I still remember I got this ask when I had a friend over and in the middle of the busiest season of the year lol

But I did not forget! I just had the plotline sitting there... waiting to be written by me lol.

And now, it's here :> I don't think I've ever written a bimbo or incel character in my life, so I beg you to go easy on me 😭 This is what I was able to write with my understanding of those terms 😂 (probably raised to like the nth power but hey, who doesn't like extreme methods 🥴) it's also somewhat long, it's either all or nothing anon!!! so thank you for waiting 🥺❤

anyways, here are the warnings: MINORS DNI. misogyny, objectification, mentions and slight depictions of sexual acts, as well as sexual implications (? I hope that's the right term). A tiny, blink and you miss it kind of fluff. Derogative name calling, but good name calling as well. Overall, Naoya is very... ugh. and Y/N is oblivious as ever 😭also if there's some typos, or weirdly constructed sentences... I'm sorry 🥺.

As always, reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ❤❤ Happy reading!

Naoya is on a mission—a stealthy one, evident by his dark sunglasses, dark hoodie, which he wore specifically to hide his distinctive bleached hair, and finally a scowl on his face that would let any onlooker know he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances.

Necessary measures so as to avoid being recognized. But what was the reason behind those safety procedures? Surely, a man of his wealth could afford to hire an assistant to do his errands if he was too… “busy” to do so himself.

But it wasn’t a question of being busy, pretentious, or even uninterested—it’s a matter of secrecy, his identity to remain a mystery; and all because he didn’t want to, or couldn’t be seen indulging in one of his favorite pastimes: gaming.

Thus, a circumstance that had to be dealt through him personally. 

So, with all safety steps in place, he makes way towards the nearest video game store closest to his work, conveniently (or more like unfortunately) located in one of the most frequented malls of the city, in hopes of getting his hands on a brand new copy of whatever popular long-awaited first person shooter came out that season.

He considers himself to be a highly determined and focused person when it comes to pursuing a goal by swiftly evading upcoming crowds of obnoxious shoppers, annoying bystanders that can’t take their business to the sides of the passageway to avoid hindering traffic flow, to finally enter the store and zero-in on looking for his desperately sought after game through the many shelves on the walls.

But the act drops immediately upon noticing a sweet and resonant smell of a perfume, likened to strawberries or cherries, he can’t decide which one, drowning all of his senses.

It’s enough to snap him out of his purposeful trance and send him into an angry mull of just who the fuck thought it was a good idea to spray the store with that awfully distracting smell.

He swirls his head onto the direction of the perpetrator, but just as he was about to silently judge them to death, he notices you.

No, stares at you, wide eyed and speechless upon connecting the dots.

Not only was your scent one to be remarkably notable, but your presence accompanied well the intensity of such perfume, as if that weren’t enough to set all eyes on you.

The first thing that everyone notices, and perhaps what catches him off guard the most, is your stupidly short, off-shoulder, long sleeved pink dress, barely ending just underneath the crease of your bottom. From there, the second most noticeable thing from your attire had to be your thigh high boots. One would think that you were perhaps trying to cover your legs without the actual use thighs, but that assumption would be soon discarded when noting your clothes to be essentially to be a second skin, successfully accentuating each and every one of your curves, leaving nothing to the imagination, and prompting him to dumbfoundedly wonder if you didn’t consider, even for the briefest of seconds, that perhaps this wasn’t the best outfit to go out with.

When he’s able to overcome his initial shock, Naoya proceeds to do what he always does when he finds himself noticing the presence of a woman: attack your presence in the confines in his mind.

First of all, why are you in a store like this? From the very moment he stepped inside he noticed the lack of women—aside from mothers accompanying their sons, much to his relief, for he never correlated one thing with the other, seemingly belonging to two widely different worlds.

It was set from the very start that videogames were supposed to be for male consumption, thus, there's no way you knew what was being sold there.

Did you perhaps think this was some kind of movie store, where you’d be able to find your idiotic romcoms or whatever it is that females watch? Most probably yes.

Secondly, if you somehow knew this was a video game store, it was so obvious that you weren’t here for your own merit. Nuh-uh, women didn’t play video games, without being terrible that is. Or maybe they do, but it’s solely to obtain attention from the other sex and—

Oh, that has to be the reason why you even attended such a place dressed up like that, didn't it? Why would you choose a perfume so striking and an eye-catching outfit, if it wasn’t to get as many eyes on you as you could get?

And you did. In fact, within seconds of silently announcing your arrival, the other shoppers couldn’t stop their glances from sticking onto you as you walked into the store, seemingly unaware of their glimpses and hushed whispers to one another, as you looked around for something to buy. 

«Nothing more than a attention-seeking bitch» Naoya mused as he went back to the shelves before him «As if I were to fall for something that’s clearly bait»

An outstanding contradiction, for as much as he wanted to put himself over the men that were undeniably ogling your figure, he was forcing himself to go back on his search to avoid idiotically looking at you. 

Because with all the berating words he silently attacked you with, he still had to admit that as dense and indecent as you were, you were incredibly attractive.

Another wall that would collapse when he catches your moving figure from the corner of his eye, instinctively making him turn his head towards your direction, breath hitching at his throat when he sees you bending downwards and… flashing him the sight of your white and pink striped panties that has him frigid with bewilderment.

His perverted mind immediately takes him down the three following paths: 

The remembrance of the stereotypical anime girl panties, with a rosy twist that, far from being classic, he can’t help but find intriguing. 

The slight twitch coming from his groin, which he had to control immediately by focusing on everything but you, so as to not look like an impressionable teenager watching porn for the first time—only to fail miserably.

And the notion that you really were oblivious. 

Maybe you were. Because it was apparent to innocent minds that you were only trying to get a better look at the games on the bottom shelf—it wasn’t your fault that your skirt creased upwards and flashed the people around you; but they wouldn’t complain either.

Eitherway, after everything was done and said, Naoya was officially hooked on your presence, because as soon as you leaned back and upwards to your full stature and made way to the employee on the cash register, his gaze followed each and every single one of your steps.

“Hi!” you cheerfully greeted the less-than-deservingly paid employee.

“Yeah?” The young man responds, his head turning from the endless paperwork before him and up to you—his indifferent facade of having to tend to another nameless customer falters for a second when finally noticing you. His eyes widen for a fraction, before going immediately back to his everyday stance when finally composing himself. 

“I have a question…” you say, a slight pout on your lips and a coy look in your eyes, almost as if you were ashamed to be bothering him with your concern, instead of the outfit you were wearing that day.

“Yeah?” He says, and Naoya, who has not removed his undetectable gaze (thanks to his shades) from you, is able to catch his not-so-subtle mocking tone. The young entrepreneur wonders if you noticed such connotations, but judging your cheerful response and your lifestyle, he doubts you to be capable of acknowledging social cues. 

“I was just wondering if you had this game!” you smile, pink manicured nails pointing to the small poster on the counter, the cover art of the newest game in season, coincidentally, the same one Naoya was looking for.

“Oh, that one?” The man taunts “I don’t know, it’s quite popular”

“I know!” You joshed “I was hoping to get one as soon as the store opened, but I had to do some errands first… hope I’m not too late”

“I’m sure you did” He murmurs, now glancing at the screen before him while typing a few words into the keyboard here and there, as if to give the impression that he was checking the availability of the game you wanted, when in reality, he was randomly clicking buttons around the system “Which one are you looking for, the green one or the blue one?”

“PC” You answer directly, and the man’s brows slightly furrow at your tone before going back to his sneerish ways.

“Uh… yeah, sorry miss, looks like we don’t have that one anymore” he shrugs, and Naoya blinks. He was sure to check online to avoid taking on a fruitless trip, there were many copies available due to the pre-order… had he underestimated the popularity of said release? “Should’ve pre-ordered it if you wanted it that badly”

“Aw… don’t tell me that” You sigh, deflating your shoulders and pursing your lips onto another pout. “Do you think you can tell me when you’ll be getting more?” you then plead, no—whine, puppy eyes included, to the man before you. “I really, really want this game…”

The cashier didn’t think that his “playful” actions would lead you into an imploring position, but he can’t say he’s not satisfied with seeing this submissive side of yours.

“Fine” The sight of your body pressed against the counter, gifting him the modest sight of your cleavage is what has him folding to your pleads “I’m not supposed to tell you, but due to high demand we’re getting another shipment overnight, come tomorrow for a copy”

“Oh, thank you so much!! You’re the best, thank you!!!” You grin, excitedly jumping on your axis due to your excitement, and gifting another sight for Naoya and this random employee to enjoy “I’ll be here tomorrow then! I actually have a nail appointment right now, since I don’t like this color anymore—look! It’s quite ugly, isn’t it? I want a brighter color!”

You show him your nails, and he, who isn’t getting paid enough to entertain customers… and isn’t interested in the mundane aspects of his life that don’t entail staring at your figure, just gives you a tight smile and a curt nod.

“I just wanted to see if I could get a copy before my appointment, that's all. See you tomorrow….uh…”

He tells you his name, and you give him another grin.

“Cute name!” You giggle “See you tomorrow then!”

And just as you entered the store, you disappeared. Leaving nothing more than your sweet scent to linger behind. Less than a second after that, everyone goes back to their previous behavior, aside from a few murmurs of disbelief and surprise, as if nothing happened.

Naoya, on the other hand, couldn’t help himself from following you with his eyes as you stepped out of the store back into the mall, but just as you were about to disappear from his sights, a small crowd of people suddenly intercepted you. 

The image is… confusing to him, to say the least—were they your friends? That would’ve explained their sense of familiarity, as well as your all too happy disposition to entertain them, but if so, why didn’t they accompany you?

He wanted to keep starting for a bit longer, at least until he was able to figure out what kind of relationship you had with this surrounding horde, until one of the people behind him snapped him back to reality thanks to the sound of someone clearing their throat, as to remind him he was hoarding a large part of a shelf, so either step aside or… or step aside.

Naoya briefly glances at the annoyed person behind him, before rolling his eyes and heading towards the same cashier that attended you, intent on confirming the words he’d told you.

“Are you out of copies for that game?” Naoya asks, gesturing to the same poster as you.

“This one?” The cashier refers to the large banner behind “Nah, we still have lots of copies, for what console do you need it?”

“Playstation…” Naoya caution, confusion slowly setting in his mind as the employee goes to the back of the store, eventually coming back with his copy. It’s then that he decides to confront him “I thought I heard you say you didn’t have any”

“Oh, that?” He says, scanning the box before placing it on the counter “I was just having a bit of fun, really. You don’t really believe she knew what she was looking for, do you? Probably a gift for her boyfriend or something”

At the mere notion of you having a boyfriend, something likened to disappointment stings Naoya’s core.

“Wouldn’t mind having her come around more often, though” the young man says to fill the silent void between the two. 

Naoya remained silent, but not impassive. Just as he paid his purchase, his mind began the mental work of what he could do with this new angle he hadn’t considered before.

Did this mean you’ll be coming back tomorrow?

Absolutely—you essentially promised this random guy that you’ll be coming back tomorrow, and if you really wanted that game, then you would. 

So, with the determination that your promise provided, he came back again the next day. Discreetly as he’d done the day before, silently awaiting your arrival just a few feet away from the store’s entrance: for the moment you’d grace his sight with your presence.

An hour passed, and you were nowhere to be seen. He’s dangerously close to finishing his break, and past the limit of cursing and berating his naiveness of believing that your ditzy self would actually keep up with a promise you made to a complete stranger.

Naoya is more than ready to head back to his work and forget all of this, until you finally make your entrance.

And with an even skimpier outfit than before—a pink v-neck crop top, a low waisted denim skirt, resting just beneath your belly button, and white boots. 

The way his mind is able to whip away from anger and into perverted intrigue is outstanding. When he was reprimanding himself for being a foolish time-waster, he was now wondering if you were wearing completely white panties, or perhaps blue stripes…? Naoya didn’t bother to think about your bra. It’s obvious you weren’t wearing one anyway, just as the day before, evident by the way your nipples poked through the fabric, so why waste energy thinking about that?

After a few seconds of indecent thoughts, Naoya makes his way towards the inside of the store, hoping to catch a better glance of you—all while putting up the act of an absorbed shopper, and not of a debauched young man.

You didn’t use much of your time to look around, much to Naoya’s dismay who hoped you’d gift him another peek of your panties, instead, you went straight to the cashier, which you excitedly greeted upon recognizing him to be the same from yesterday, followed by asking for the copy he promised to have today.

“Oh, sorry—sold out already” he says matter-of-factly, and your eyes widen.

“What??” you breathe “Oh, don’t tell me I was late again….”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll be getting another shipment overnight, though. Why don’t you try tomorrow? I might be able to hold a copy for you”

“Oh, would you really do that?” You ask, eyes glistening with hope “Thank you sooooo much!! You’re really the nicest guy ever…”

And so, you leave.

Naoya wants to scream at the man for seemingly letting you go so easily—but he’s quick to remember that there are a few things that he can’t get away with, especially if they aren’t employees under his company, so instead, he swallows his resentment and leaves the store as well.

His eyes darted across the crowds, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and maybe… well, he wouldn’t consider it stalking if he was just seeing you at a distance, but all technicalities accounted for, he would be “observing” you for a bit.

However, you're nowhere to be found—not even the group that stopped you yesterday was there! You were essentially lost between the crowd, leaving behind yet again, your lingering scent and the flimsy promise of coming back the next day.

Tomorrow came by, to Naoya’s relieving expectation and personal satisfaction upon seeing another skimpy outfit on your body, but to your detriment, for you were received with the same excuse. 

I couldn’t hold the copy, I wasn’t sure if you were coming so I sold it. It’s what he said to you when approaching him. And yet, you didn’t say anything—you didn’t appear to be upset, if anything, you just took it, and came back tomorrow.

Once again, Naoya was there too.

Oh yeah… I told you that, didn’t I? Yeah, we didn’t get any more today. Maybe tomorrow!

Naoya couldn’t really care less about this guys toying intentions with you, however, he’s getting tired of this senseless chase. It was entertaining, sure, he had to admit that he was looking forward to the moment he’d see what kind of outfit you’d wear that day.

However, it was slowly becoming annoying how he had to go out every day, get covered up so no one from his family or business-ventures would catch him essentially hunting an indecent woman, and wait for you as if he were some kind of pet, when it should be the other way around.

And while that may be the primary reasoning of his newfound path, the other subconscious underlying argument was that he hated seeing you give this scumbag all of your attention—and quite stupidly so. A sensation that would’ve been described as anger, if not… jealousy.

No, it couldn’t be jealousy, of course not.

Naoya was never jealous. However, he was protective of things he thought were exclusively reserved for him. And just as it was as noted before, he was one to act firmly and directly when it pertained to something he wanted.

So, having had enough of your endless goose chase with this insignificant man, he decides to put an end to your misery by buying a copy and handing it to you personally, so you can finally set your sights on a man of higher caliber.

“Wait… you… you got this for me?” you faltered while carefully receiving the box from his hands, as if it were the most sacred item in the whole world and could break easily even by an unsuspecting gust of wind, before looking up to him in awe “I—I thought they were gone… How… Did you know I was looking for one?”

“Guess I’m just lucky. Although I’m not sure that’s the console you wanted” Naoya responds, feigning ignorance so as to not reveal he’d actually been stalking you for a while. 

“It’s perfect! You hit it right on the money!” you giggle, giving him a sweet smile that has Naoya growing a bit uncomfortable for the sudden tightness in his pants. 

He tries to distract himself by thinking how fortunate he was that you didn’t ask any more questions regarding his… mysterious assumptions.  But by the way you thankfully offer yourself to him, unknowingly inviting, he’s finding it to be an incredibly strenuous effort. 

“I… I don’t know what to say! Thank you so much!! I’ve been wanting to get this game forever now!! But now I can finally play it, my followers will be eternally grateful to you, kind stranger…” you swoon, and Naoya… Well, he remains speechless, but for another reason now.

“Followers?” Naoya skeptically repeats. He can’t help but judge by your attire that you’re most possibly inclined to have those kinds of followers, but if so, what kind of use would you have with a game of all things? Well, guess he’d just have to find out…

“Oh, right” You sheepishly chuckle as a subtle blush appears on your cheeks. “I’m a streamer! I broadcast whatever game I want to play that day, or what my followers tell me to”

“Streamer” Naoya says to himself, he never thought that this game was actually for you to consume. Guess he misjudged part of the female population. But at the same time, this revelation brings him a much needed lifeline without having to put much of his effort: somewhere to unadulteratedly watch you, and without having to worry who sees him in turn. “Where… Do you stream?”

“On twitch” you reveal “I used to have business cards but I ran out of them a while ago and the new ones haven’t arrived yet… Oh, I know! Do you have social media?”

“I… rarely use it” he responds honestly. His father told him to keep his personal image to the cleanest possible, if he didn’t want to ruin his chances of inheriting the company, that is. 

Didn’t stop him from doing what he wanted, of course, just led him to be more… discreet.

“Eh?! That's impossible! A handsome man like you must have at least an instagram! … Or a girlfriend” you whisper the last part, almost as if you were talking to yourself, but his focus on you allows him to intercept your words as if they were spoken to everyone in the vicinity, and it makes him feel… 

“I… don't” Naoya responds, but he doesn’t know which of your questions. 

Thinking back on it, he was to have a girlfriend—more like an arranged marriage with a daughter of some rich family, or something like that— but it never went through, the family deciding to back away out of nowhere. 

He thinks himself too young to be tied down to difficult commitments anyways, such as women tend to be, so the sudden change fit him well.

And even though it’s been a while since he’d seen her, he can’t help but compare you to that thwarted woman.

While you socially didn’t fit the eccentric criteria of the Zen’in men, far too lewd to fit the traditional values of an old money family like his, Naoya is not cut of the same fabric as them, not entirely anyways, and he knows it wouldn’t have taken much before he found himself seeking you, for his wife wouldn’t give you the entertainment you would undeniably prove him.

“Really? That’s quite a shame…” you wistfully sigh, and just like his answers, he doesn’t know which question you’re responding to. “Well, if you ever decide to open an account, you can find me like this”

You show him a screenshot of your social media handles, and Naoya, quickly, if not desperately, writes down your information.

“Thank you so much, um…” you say once he puts his phone away, pressing your lips together as the pink in your cheeks turns red.

“Naoya” he responds, admiring how a woman as shameless as you could still feel something likened to embarrassment. A delightful… and cute realization. 

“Y/N” You say back “It was nice meeting you, Naoya-kun”

It’s a simple, innocent gesture, the formality of two people becoming acquainted with each other. A straightforward social interaction, but for Naoya, this was nothing but the start of his demise.

From the moment he went back to his office and searched you up on all of your available social media, he started an addiction consisting of keeping up to date with all of your movements.

Whether this be through your instagram, he’s set up notifications to let him know whenever you posted something new, a post, a story, a livestream, it doesn't matter. And he cares even less about what he’s doing when he’s notified about this—he could be in the middle of a meeting with an important client, but if his phone vibrates, letting him know you posted something, he would unlock his phone and check.

And it's with the intricate of his obsession that he began to stalk you whenever he virtually could, and physically as well.

If you tagged yourself to be going somewhere, he’d pull whatever strings he had to pull to be near you. Silently, distantly watching you and your outfits that he’d continue to spend his time guessing just what kind of underwear you’d be wearing, perhaps even lingerie? When he wasn’t “admiring” your outfit, of course. His favorite instances during these outings were when you were alone, away from the small crowd of people he assumed to be your followers, seemingly doing the same as him by hounding you as some kind of piece of meat, to those that acted somewhat civil near you; your friends, which he found surprisingly normal compared to you.

But when you streamed… that’s when it was officially recognized that he had an addiction.

It wouldn’t take him long to figure out that just as how you acted in person, it was heightened x100 times online. It was a mystery as to why you haven’t been banned from the platform for dressing so scandalously, but even if you were, he would personally hunt down the CEO at his HQ to demand the reinstitution of your channel. He needed, wanted, desired to see you everywhere, anywhere.

But just as most addictions go, one day he just couldn’t fill his need.

Naoya didn’t like being pushed to the side, as his useless brothers had always been when it comes down to matters of the company, when he knew he was capable of achieving so much more.

And specially, he didn’t like how you were giving others—your followers, attention.

But he found it hard to approach you for some strange reason. There was something inside his mind that filled him with a sense of fear that had him believing that if he wasn’t careful enough, important enough, you’d disappear from his life.

He had to stand out, he had to get all of your attention on him, as to avoid sinking down into the forgetfulness of your memory, but above all, he needed to be reciprocated with the same toxicity he was giving you, or he'd fail to continue on existing.

So, like any rich man with spending issues his age would do, he started to spend large, ludicrous amounts of money to your persona: either through donations your streams, or by the wishlist link you posted in your description box, carefully selecting the outfits he’d thought would benefit you the most, before adding the entire list on his shopping cart and checking out.

He’d been a silent observer of yours since he began to follow you, but when you dedicated a stream solely to open the uncountable number of boxes that were delivered to your apartment one day, that’s when he finally stepped into your spotlight.

“Naoya… Naoya… it’s familiar to me but I can’t pinpoint where….” you say as you continue to carefully cut another box open, setting your cutter aside and revealing the contents to your followers, which, far from admiring the nice things you’ve gotten or relishing on the fact that someone was kind enough to buy them for you, couldn’t help but show their concern for this sudden big-spender of an admirer.

One even reminded you to be careful, but that message was soon drowned by the swarm of messages from the other side of your fandom that asked you to model the clothes you were showing off.

And you, too distracted by the nice and pretty things this mysterious Naoya guy got for you, remained completely oblivious to the other’s concerns.

“I swear, I had it on the tip of my tongue!” You frown, looking through the box to check there was nothing left behind.

Naoya knew that you wouldn’t read his message, at least not through the large stream of messages that seemed to push down whatever new comment managed to get past your moderators. So, he took it as his personal mission to talk to you via donations. That way, he could ensure you would read what he had to say, and set him aside from the lowly scum that seemed to follow you.

Thus, he sent you another donation of $5000 dollars, with the following words:

“From the store”

You lifted your eyes from the box and onto the screen. Carefully reading the message attached. Naoya felt an indescribable feel of realization upon seeing your smile widen and your eyes glistening with excitement on what seems the moment you finally remembered who he was.

“Oh! That Naoya!” you gasp “You’re the one that got me that game! Oh, how could I forget your kindness! Well, it has been a while since I saw you… so please don’t be too harsh on me”

The chat is quickly inundated with questions of who’s Naoya? And when did that happen?

“I thought I told you guys about him, but I didn’t say his name out of privacy, so it would make sense why you wouldn’t remember—well, that doesn't matter! I think we all owe him a thank you for all he’s given me!”

The chat box is once again inundated by comments of random followers thanking Naoya—a gesture that he paid little to no mind to, for he didn’t do that to get their recognition, at least not theirs. Your undivided attention is what he wanted, but if this is what it took to get there, he’ll take it.

Upon detecting motion on your side, Naoya’s eyes dart away from the messages and back to you, only to be received with a surprise that has his heart skipping a beat and his lungs emptied of air.

You’re closer to the camera, your body slightly leaning forward, enough to reveal the mounds of your breasts, before suggestively looking at the camera and cooing.

“Thank you, Na-o-ya-kun”

It’s so intoxicatingly sweet the way you unknowingly seem to murmur his name. Enrapturing him, and your thousands of followers, by the way look at the camera with those e/c bedroom eyes. Even the way you’re flaunting your body…, it’s almost as if…. As if you were seeing him on the other side of the screen. 

It’s all so personal, so… intimate, that he disconnects from reality at the moment, his mind only being able to focus on the now imprinted image of your body and sound of your voice, and the fiery need building up in his crotch.

He’s done it before. Touched himself at the sight of your image, but never during your streams. He thinks it’s… foul, dirty, and often prefers to do so in the privacy of his bedroom. But when he sees you acting so alluring, and just for him, it was the hook, line, and sinker he needed to chase his release. Even if it somehow manages to stain his keyboard, he doesn’t care, for all that he needs is you.

Naoya doesn’t even realize the moment you ended the stream, but when he does, it's past the third time (or was it fourth?) time he already came to your visage. Upon seeing the familiar offline banner, he thinks it’s time to turn off the computer and head to bed—not without checking the following post you always did when ending your streams, that is.

But just as he’s about to log off for the day, he receives a notification. 

A private message… from you.

[username]: Naoya? I hope I got your username right…

He doesn’t care that you didn’t even bother to check the name of your highest donor of the day or lifetime if he was being noisy about it. All that he can think of is that, after all of his efforts, you finally approached him!

[naoya]: Yeah, it’s me.

[username]: Yay! I’m so glad I got it right! …

Anyways, I just wanted to thank you personally for all that you’ve donated to my streams and… well, once again for the game you got me that one time! I was so tired of going to the mall everyday… you really were like some kind of guardian angel ❤

A guardian angel might be the wrong term—he’s more like a predator, and there’s not a step that he hasn’t meticulously calculated to lure you into his trap.

Which you were doing so easily, as expected from an easy prey like you.

[username]: I don’t know how I can ever repay your kindness, Naoya-kun, but I do think this will be a good head start ❤

Naoya intently stares at the chat box as the three dotted symbol, the one to indicate you to be writing, continues to flicker before him.

Anticipation rises from within him as seconds pass— He doesn’t know what to expect from your silence, perhaps an extensive bible to describe your feelings of appreciation? Women were… mushy like that.

His thoughts were immediately terminated upon seeing 6 files attached to the chat, pictures labeled for Naoya, with a suggestive subject “for you ❤” that hastily prompted him to download your archives as soon as they were safely scanned. 

When the photographs pop up on his screen, his heart skips a beat and his cock twitching  slightly back to life.

You are presenting yourself in a way that’s borderline explicit. And it’s now that he realizes that you are, truly, an oblivious vixen that doesn’t know the dangerous game you’re playing with him.

There was a recurring theme with all photographs, and that was your presence before a mirror, however, each and every portrayal was different: in one, you were sitting down in what seemed to be your bed, phone covering your face, wearing one of the outfits he got you from your wish list: a white skirt, a white crop top and some white bunny ears resting on top of your head.

With your barely distinguishable dainty look, this would’ve been nothing more than an innocent picture, had it not been from the pornographic demonstration you were doing with your delicately separated legs which allowed him to see you were wearing nothing underneath your attire.

He could almost see the intoxicating color from your pussy peeking through your lips, but alas, that wasn’t meant to be… yet.

The next picture had effectively sprung against the painful constraints of his pants: it was of much less sensuality, but inciting nonetheless. You were once again covering your face, this time however, you were far more… assertive when it comes to your posing. Wanting to show off your newest light pink lingerie… you adjusted your body to highlight all of your delicious curves to him… alongside the subtle “peek” of your nipples.

His heart was beating out of his chest when he went through all of the photos, with a grin parting his lips when he came to the dawning conclusion that you were giving him a sample of your body, a tease of what’s his, to ignite his continued interest in you. 

«It seems I might have underestimated you, Y/N…»  he says as his mind produces just all of the nasty things he would do to your body if he only had you underneath him… «But if you want more from me, you’d have to do better than that»

As much as he feels the burning desire to snatch you away from the public eye and keep you locked away just for his use, he knows that’s not the right thing to do for now.

Naobito has taught him many times that part of being a successful man is to know how to play their cards correctly, only to relax once victory is assured and undeniably under his court.

To not be brash and impatient, if he is to see the fruits of his efforts.

So, with great effort, he pushes his lustful desire for you deep inside his essence and sets the next trap.

[naoya]: I didn’t do any of these things for that—although I must admit that you look very cute in all of the outfits.

He’d modestly say, as if he hadn’t furiously jerked off to your pictures seconds prior and subsequently planned his ownership over you.

[username]: Oh no! I didn’t mean to offend you… did you not like them?

[naoya]: Far from that, I liked them greatly, but I was hoping for something else.

[username]: I’ll do anything that you want.

He smiles, he can’t wait for you to say those words in a different context.

[naoya]: How about we go out, get something to eat? 

[username]: Would you really do that for me? I don’t want to abuse your generosity…

[naoya]: I don’t think a beauty like you could ever do that…

[username]: Naoya-kun… you’re too kind to me! And I barely even know you… are you sure this is ok?

The way you described him, act hesitant towards him… it was all energy that if you’d bothered to know him on a more personal level, would never dare to use on him. 

But you don’t need to know that, not right now anyways. Not when he still had to secure the catch.

[naoya]: Set the date and I’ll pick you up. And don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’m actually… excited to see you. 

[username]: Ah! You’re too smooth for me!! Are you sure you don’t have a girlfriend?! But if it’s no problem… See you the day after tomorrow?

[naoya]: See you then, Y/N..

And so, 2 days pass, and you see him on what turned out to be the first of many “dates” you’d begin to have with Naoya. 

The first place that he would take you, in efforts to impress you and seal your interest in him, was a small restaurant located on the wealthy side of the city, a place known to be prestigious for the likes of him, yet secretive. 

Emphasis on the last word, the main reason why he took you there: You didn’t really fit with what many socialite’s would consider… adequate, more so due to the attire you’ve decided to wear that way—A hot pink mini skirt, with a slit on your left side, and a white long sleeved off-shoulder top, which Naoya quickly noted to be your favorite style. 

Luckily there was no dress code required at the restaurant… not that they would dare kick the Zen’in heir out, but still… 

Either way, as much as he wanted to get in your pants, he didn’t want to be seen attempting to, so he requested to be seated in the most distant part of the restaurant.

Luckily for him, you didn’t question his decision when he ordered the server to place the two of you in a private booth—far too enthralled by the fancy aesthetic of a place you never been before, and never thought you would, to even care.

You felt like a fish out of water, intimidated by this new aura that seemed to provoke a sense of departure from you, but Naoya’s striking golden eyes and handsome smile managed to keep you by his side, as well as the distracting ice-breakers he used to get you to open up to him and become comfortable around him.

Not that he really cared about your personal background, but if he wanted to play the part of listening and caring friend, and see if he had to deal with any loose ends once he finally made you his, he had to commit.

And you obliged, revealing to have a family of living parents which were still married, an older brother who studied accounting, an older sister who studied engineering, both having successful and thriving careers, and… you. The younger sister.

“Do they agree… with your lifestyle?” He has the sudden urge to ask, which makes him immediately regret not being able to control his words, however, his worries escape through a subtle sigh when he hears you respond nonchalantly.

“Oh, I don’t live with them. And it’s been a while since I last saw them, or had contact with them, I guess they’re just too busy to do so!” You giggle, completely oblivious to the information you just disclosed.

«Why am I not surprised?» Naoya silently snickers. If he had to fill the blanks, he assumed that you were kicked out of the house for acting like the whore you are. He had no evidence, but no doubts either. «I have to commend them, really. They unknowingly set you on my path… But don’t worry, I’ll take you under my wing. And who knows? Maybe I'll be able to mold you into a woman they’ll be finally proud of»

“What about you, Naoya-kun? What’s your family like?” You’d ask, and he frowned.

You didn’t need to know of his highly prestigious background, or the wealth that he owned.

Why did you need to know anyways? So you could attempt to suck out money, more than he’s already given you, from him? No, you don’t need to know that—you had no need for that; if you wanted to suck off something it would be his cock, not his family’s riches.

But even then, it doesn’t bother him that much, because he knows because he knows that you’d take whatever it is that he gives you, like the sleazy obedient girl you’re beginning to promise him. So he just gives you the following poor excuse of an answer.

“I don’t like talking about work, baby, it’s stressful and boring most of the time and I don’t want to ruin my time with you bringing that up”

And just as how he expected, you ended up falling for his charm—no, more than falling for him—completely succumbing to his act, evident by the way you pressed your body against him and reached over to softly kiss his cheek, redness in your face as you sheepishly murmured:.

“I’m sorry, Naoya-kun. I didn’t mean to upset you…” you say, resting your head against his shoulder as you inched as close as possible to him and wrapped his arm against your body.

The way he’s able to feel your breasts has him tense and hot in his seat, speechless as you ignorantly continue on with the conversation “We don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to! How about… what’s your favorite meal from here? Or what do you like to do as a hobby?”

He swears he can feel himself falling in love with your idiocy. He didn’t have to do much to have you folding to his misdirection. If he keeps on this path, it wouldn’t take long before he could claim you as his and finally have fun. 

In fact, he thinks he might need to do less than that, because why else would act that way, if deep inside, you weren’t expecting the same?

That had been his popular belief, until one day, after going out on a date and subsequently bringing you back to your apartment,  he realized he miscalculated your lascivious behavior.

It was after a silent ride back home, late at night, but his mind was anything but quiet. 

The two had gone out to get a few drinks that night, with Naoya hoping to soften you enough to finally get what he wants from you, and you… well, wanting nothing more than to spend more time with the man you eventually labeled as your knight in shining armor.

You had taken perhaps a bit too much to drink to even notice the way Naoya’s gaze was basically eating you from head to toe. And he couldn’t wait for the moment he’d stop the car and finally claim you as his—he initially planned on having you in a more secluded, comfortable area for maximum enjoyment, but the way your body was unknowingly inciting him, by either rubbing against him, even “unintentionally” brushing your ass against his crotch while dancing, he guessed he could take a raincheck on that idea.

When he finally arrives at your familiar apartment complex, he’s quick to turn off the engine, unfasten his seatbelt and lunge himself over you, clashing his hungry lips against yours in such a hurried way that you’re unable to do anything else but whimper against his mouth out of surprise by the sudden action, before melting against his touch.

You moan, indulging in the lustfulness Naoya’s desperation once apparent when he coveted your lips, pulling you as close as possible to him as he continued to devour your mouth. 

It’s almost as if he wanted to imprint your taste in his tongue, giving you little to no space to breathe, no energy to react, aside from whimpers and moans when his lust became too much for you to handle.

Subduing completely when it was time for his thumbs to imprint your figure on them, roaming each and every curve he could get his hands on, areas you never thought were capable of bringing you goosebumps, less jolts of pleasure.

However, as much as Naoya confidently declared his enjoyment of this advancement, you were still struggling to receive his affections as openly as you were supposed to. 

Your mind was struggling to come to a conclusion, for everything happened so suddenly.

A few seconds ago you were looking forward to getting back home, changing into something more comfortable and maybe asking Naoya to stay and watch some movies, but before you were even able to process your arrival, he’d attacked your lips.

To say that you didn’t feel… good for his desire would be a blatant lie, which made this whole ordeal even more difficult.

It was obvious that he wanted you, why else would he do all the nice things he did with you? Yet, it was also obvious what he wanted to do with you, becoming clearer and clearer by the second as he continued to attack your lips, and now, the waistband of your skirt.

However, your indecision would come to a screeching halt when his hands landed on your breasts, groping and pinching the sensitiveness of your mounds, which caused you to gather all of your strength onto your arms and push him away.

His sudden departure is one that goes undetected by Naoya at the first instance, believing it to be nothing more than a reflection of your overwhelmed senses and is quick to attempt to latch back to your body, but when you repeat the same gesture and with a startled face no less, he’s finally able to recognize this as anything but an incident, subsequently discarding any leniency he had towards your initial lapse and look down at you with irrefutable indignation.

“What the fuck?” are the first words that flow past his lips, and this, being the first time you’ve seen his anger, you don't know how to react outside of shyness and regret.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Naoya-kun” you begin to murmur, looking down to your lap “I… well… I—”

“What?” he scowls “Look up to me Y/N.” he orders, and you, hoping to lessen the gravity of your actions, do as requested “What the fuck was that about?!

“I… I don’t know” you confess “I just… I was just startled, that’s all”

“Startled” He repeats mockingly. Naoya wishes to bring the explicit pictures you’ve sent him throughout the duration of this… arrangement, as evidence of your quiet compliance, but he also desires to know what your stupid mind fashioned as a justification to your action, so, he goes down another path. “Did you not expect this to happen one day or the other?”

You remain quiet, unsure what to respond.

“Answer me, Y/N!”

“That’s not… That’s not what I meant” You cry, shaking your head as tears now begin to form in the corner of your eyes. Naoya had never been this… intimidating to you before, but even with this short demonstration, you’re able to say that you never wished to see this ever again. “I just… I just don’t want to ruin what we have”

“What we have…. And what is that, hm?” he sneers, finding your responses to be more and more laughable by the second.

“...I feel like… if we go too fast… you… might not want to see me anymore”

“Huh?” Naoya is, once again, baffled by your seemingly stupid conclusions. Or perhaps you caught on to his intentions? “What are you even talking about”

Silence envelops the two, a crushing stillness that has you feeling more and more hopeless before him and his penetrating gaze.

You wished things would’ve proceeded differently, happening in a much more… wholesome way, as you always imagined your first love to be. 

But you console yourself by remembering that all relationships had rocky moments, and all of them were different. Maybe yours was to have one from the very beginning. 

Whatever the outcome, there’s no denying that you’d been dying to tell him something for a very long time, in fact, you feel it slowly fighting its way out from your heart and onto your throat at this very moment..

And while his actions were a bit unexpected… there was no other way to perceive them than reciprocated feelings, and subsequently, the right moment to tell what you’ve been aching to confess to him….

“I really like you, Naoya” you declare, through ruby-red cheeks and flickering gazes between your trembling fingers and his golden eyes, silently fighting with two sides of your emotions: fear of rejection… and suspense for acceptance. “I’ve… I’ve known for a while now, and there’s nothing more than I would like to be with you! I always look forward to spending time with you, going out with you, and… obviously doing these things too… But… I want to take it slow… because I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want you to think I wanted something else from you”

Naoya’s eyes widened, and the anger he felt for your unwanted disruption was quickly replaced with surprise.

Did you… did you just… confess your feelings for him?

Oh.

Oh, he doesn’t know what to say, how to react—outside of the sweet relief of accomplishment.

This was way better than he imagined things turning out to be!

Had it been any other woman under this situation, she would’ve pulled out the stops and exited the car, especially after the slightly degrading way he spoke to you just now, and he would’ve naturally set his eyes on a new endeavor, not bothering to mend something unsalvageable.

But that’s not what happened, at all. If anything, you essentially revealed yourself to be captured by his ambitions. 

Not only that, but to be deeply infatuated with him!

These observations bask him with nothing more than a perverted variation of fulfillment a narcissistic person often gets when efficiently manipulating others. The signs of your compliance, even through your slight offense and his disrespect, gave him the understanding that you’ve handed yourself to him to be exploited.

Sure, still somewhat far from what his ultimate goal is, but there’s always something good to rescue out of the bad.

The pieces were finally falling into place and it could literally not have been any more perfect.

“Oh… Y/N” Naoya would eventually respond after a few seconds of silence. His tone is low, soothing, and his face sorrowful, as if attempting to show his regret and pain for having treated you the way he did. “I didn’t mean to scare you, princess…”

You don’t respond, outside a slight pout on your lips and your watery eyes looking up to him.

“Truth to be told… I also have feelings for you. And how couldn’t I? Whenever we go out I have the best time of my life… I did this because I thought you liked me too… but I guess I misinterpreted our relationship”

“Naoya—!”

“It’s ok, I understand. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did... We can just act like this didn’t happen at all and move on, or… stop talking to each other completely”

“No! That’s not what I want!” You gasp, guilt starting to settle in your heart, a sign of Naoya’s manipulation taking a hold of your conscience. “I was… well, startled. It’s my first time feeling this way… so I didn’t know how to react. But I really do like you! I like you a lot! And I want to continue seeing you… if you let me”

“I like you too, Y/N” Naoya murmurs, softly rubbing his thumb against your cheek, wiping away a tear, an endearing distraction to hide the devious intent behind his following actions. “But I’m too hurt by the way you reacted to think about anything else right now”

“Naoya… please don’t say that! I’m very sorry!” you plead as another wave of tears falls down your cheeks “Please don’t be sad… There's nothing more I want than to see you happy! ...Is there…. Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”

Naoya fights as hard as he can to push back a smirk from parting his lips.

“There is something” he threads, slowly, carefully, like a predator ready to pound its prey. “But… I don’t know, it’s stupid—nevermind”

“No, it’s not! It’s not stupid…. Please…. tell me” you whine “please”

“I was just… wondering. As long as something isn’t touched, it means it’s fine with being seen, right? Just like in the museums”

“I… guess that makes sense” you agree, tilting your head to the side as you struggle to understand how that correlates with making him feel better. “But what do you mean?”

It’s painfully obvious that he’s setting you up, but your naïve mind prohibits you from perceiving danger from your beloved Naoya. Making you an even easier target for his immoral desires.

“Your tits”

“W-what?” you blink, perplexed.

“Show me your tits” He repeats, as if it was the most natural, obvious thing to tie in with his analogy, certainly so after a slight argument. “As long as I don’t touch you, it should be fine, right? That way, we can both be happy—I’ll get what I want, and I’ll respect your limits”

“Oh… I don’t know, Naoya… it’s so… sudden”

“Ah, I should’ve known.” he laments, looking away from you. “It was something stupid after all”

“It’s not stupid…”

“No, it is. Forget about it, I shouldn’t have asked you that” he sighs “... I just assumed that… well, since you already send me pictures, you know, the ones where you always look so pretty, I thought it wouldn’t be that much of an issue to ask my girlfriend to do the same but in person”

You were no stranger to generous rain of compliments when you performed rather amicably or dressed up nicely, always seeming to relish on the attention to make you feel appreciated and loved.

But when they came from Naoya, a person you’ve grown to cherish and admire, it gave you a dosage of recognition you never received before. It’s why you were so eager to comply to his requests, whether to go out with him and let him decide each and every location of this outing, taking no consideration to your preferences, stopping a stream simply because he wants to play with you privately, or ultimately changing your schedule to fit his, much to your followers discontent… These were just small sacrifices for him to be happy and perhaps take your relationship to the next step.

You never thought it capable to like Naoya any more than you already did, but you were earnestly proven wrong when he implicitly declared the formalization of his courtship with you.

The apex of your longings makes your heart soar, and just like you’ve always done, obliging to his request.

“Close your eyes” it’s what you tell him, and for the first time in his life, Naoya obeys orders that do not come from him without questioning.

Without seconds to waste, you carefully hook your fingers underneath your top and lift it, stopping just by the beginning of your collar bone and keeping it there as you muster the courage to lay bare before your now boyfriend.

You take a deep breath, swallow your nerves and proceed:

“Open your eyes”

No amount of pictures, or imagination, could ever compare to the reality before him: the pair of soft breasts that he’d been dreaming about for weeks now, were finally revealed to him. And much better than he could’ve ever thought so.

He’d always been one to judge women’s bodies, whether it being an addition or subtraction of something so they would fit his impossible criteria.

But with you, he finds himself admitting that there’s nothing to change—although he wouldn't mind taking a physical test to remove all doubt.

Your breasts were of a perfect size, enough to benevolently fit in his hands. Your nipples, the ones that you’d incessantly tease him with whenever posing for selfies, were protruding just slightly thanks to the cold atmosphere inside the car, which caused him no concern if you wanted the heater to be turned on—if anything, he was grateful you’ve decided to not wear a bra for the day, prompting him to make a mental note on you to eradicate the undergarment from your closet all together.

Naoya wished to defile them in all ways imaginable—mark them as his own, fill them with hickeys, bites, use them as de-stress toys after a long day of work, prohibit you from ever wearing something to cover them from his eyes whenever present, and who knows? If he persists long enough, he just might force something out of them—whatever it took for your little mind to understand these weren’t yours anymore, but his. 

It was highly paradoxical how timidly you were behaving a few minutes ago, even more laughable to see that all that he needed to do was guilt trip you to still get a piece of what he wanted.

The longer he observes you, the stronger the desire inside him to caress you becomes, to the point where he’s no longer able to keep his side of the bargain, and like second nature, his hand begins to approach your skin.

But before he’s able to brush your warmth, you playfully smack his hand away, snapping him out of his trance and looking up to your flushed face.

“You said no touching” you remind him with a giggle, before a shiver bolts through your spine “...I’m cold” 

“Right” Naoya addressed, now observing how you pull your top back in its place before rubbing your arms with your palms. In a way, he was glad that your voice was able to put a stop to this madness he felt slowly growing in the constraints of his pants, because if you didn’t… he didn’t know what he would’ve done. He tested your limits just enough, he knows how to be patient.

“...Did you… like it?” You ask to fill the awkward silence between the two.

“Of course I did, baby. I knew my good girl could never disappoint me”

At the usage of good girl, a nickname you’ve never been graced with before, and the soft smile decorating his handsome face, your heart skips a beat. You seem to be surprised over and over again on just how much you’re able to love Naoya, a realization that prompts you to gift him a sweet smile of your own as you reach to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“I had fun” You say, your thumb softly rubbing his knuckles as you reflect on tonight’s date “I always do whenever we go out”

“That’s good to hear. I also enjoy the time we spend together” Naoya responds with a statement that’s surprisingly genuine coming from him “Let’s get you back to the apartment before it gets too cold”

You nod, and he gets out of the car first. You stay inside, waiting for him to go around and open your door. 

This wasn’t a common agreement, at least not at the beginning; the first time you exited the car without his help he seemed to get pretty upset about it, reminding you that it was his duty as a man to do so. His dedication to chivalry on the subsequent days is what perhaps led you to believe you felt something more than just friendship for him.

Naoya then guides through the apartment complex and onto the metal door you recognized as home.

It was a decent place, your boyfriend noted, not too shabby—with a few adjustments here and there to be done, but nothing urgent. It went well with your income… although he could get you something much better, but for that you’d have to be more than just eye candy.

He watches you put the pin code of your lock, opening the door and stepping inside the apartment. Once he considers you to be safe, he bids you farewell.

But just before he’s able to leave, you tug him by the hand, moving him to just a few inches away from him and pulling him by the collar down to your level, and then, you place your lips onto his for a kiss. 

It lasted for only a few seconds, and it was nothing if not sweet and soft. Your rendition of a farewell, to pour your feelings onto it and remind him just how much you care for him.

And most importantly, your first kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Goodnight, Naoya” you whisper once you pull away from his face, eyes flickering from a black space next to him and back to his eyes. “I…—Thank you… for… everything. For all the gifts you’ve given me, the places you’ve taken me… and most importantly, for being patient with me. I really am the luckiest girl in the planet for having someone like you”

You peck him on the lips once more and with that, you turn around and vanish into the safety of your home.

Naoya is left behind to deal with the aftermath of today’s successions. He wouldn’t say that it was something he expected, but certainly it’s not something he would complain about.

This could’ve really turned out for the worst, but fate wasn’t to go against those that work hard, just like Naoya had done. Even with this slight delay.

If anything, your sweet kisses were the signal that he was looking for to indicate him he was going down the right path.

He just has to keep watering you, like a flower, and it wouldn’t take long before you finally bear fruits. 

And that’s what it seemed to occur from that day forward.

With the limit of your sexuality already reached, Naoya was able to kick things up a notch: he’d begun to demand far more explicit things from you, things that would literally get you banned from any social media if you even dared to post them. There was no more coy playing, no more teasing: he wanted the absolute exposure of your body for him to indulge in. 

He’d order you to spread the lips of your pussy so he could see the cute color of your insides, showing him the rim of your tight little ass, asking you if you’ve ever touched yourself there, to which you’d deny in embarrassment, for how could he ever assume you’d do something like that! To straight up send him recordings of how you’d play with yourself, if you hypothetically did such a thing.

All things that you obliged without questioning, because there was nothing to be ashamed of, after all, wasn’t he your boyfriend? He was just preparing you for the moment this would eventually happen, so you wouldn’t be too squirmish when he was finally ravishing you.

And his greatest achievement yet, he even managed to convince you to do certain things when you were before him, without the obstacle of a screen between the two. The epitome of his influence would be the day he got you to rub his cock, with the pretense of getting familiar with what would basically be inside you, so as to lessen your tension.

You complied to everything, although shyly, and with hesitance that could be compared to inexperience. But Naoya didn’t care, that was something that could be easily fixable, all that you needed to do was let him guide you and you’d soon be a natural—you already had the theoretical part of what it takes to be a whore thanks to your streaming career, you just needed to nail the practical part with him.

But as close as he felt as he was, he couldn’t be any further away from his goal.

It was only a matter of time before Naoya began to realize that no matter how many gifts he gave you, how many dates he took you to, or how many times he’s tried to convince you that he wants more than just simple touches here and there… you were not succumbing to his needs.

He’d unknowingly bumped into a dead end, and he began to grow desperate.

He’s never had to struggle so much with a woman before—he never had to, his good looks, prestige, and money often did the job. He just had to flaunt it to whatever catch he wanted to obtain and that was it.

But you… you’re fighting back against him. 

You’re confusing, you’re flirtatious with him when online, but when the two of you are together, it is as if you’re a completely different person. Often pulling out the excuse that you want to take things slow with him, that you’re afraid of ruining whatever relationship the two of you have going on, or that you’re too inexperienced and want to feel a bit more confident before going all the way.

He was only willing to play the game of patient, kind, and loving boyfriend without getting anything in return for so long.

His patience was inching dangerously close to its limit, but it wasn’t until one late night after an unfortunate losing streak from his favorite video game that he would begin to lean towards detonation. 

“Oh… um… looks like we lost again” you say as the defeat banner flashes across your screen. This had been, yet again, another loss to add to the countless list of defeats of the day. You were bummed, disappointed. Believing to have all the advantage to win, but as the system marked, it was not to be your fate.

However, these setbacks hold little to no space in your mind, not when you’ve long accepted these are things that happen regularly when playing online. Besides, you were playing alongside Naoya, and you wouldn’t let this minor inconvenience sour the time you were having with him!

“But I still think we did pretty good!” you’d say, attempting to lighten up the mood upon noticing his silence. You might’ve been a bit more easy going when it came to accepting defeat, but Naoya, always the competitive one, had a harder time doing so. Luckily for him, you were there to balance his anguish with your liveliness, just as you hoped by suggesting the following. “Wanna play another match? Or maybe we can take a brea—”

“This is fucking bullshit!” Naoya’s voice suddenly thundered through your headphones, cutting through your words and silencing you subsequently.

It’s not uncommon for Naoya to curse whenever he’s feeling unlucky, so you don’t react much to it. Gaming was one of his few escapades after all, and he lives a rather stressful life thanks to his job (or so you presume, he doesn’t tell you much), so you allow him to do whatever he needs to do to vent out his frustrations.

However, his rage has never extended onto the physical realm, and when the sound you assumed to be his hands slamming against the keyboard became apparent through your speakers, you decided it was necessary to intervene.

“Naoya-kun… hey, it’s ok—” you’d begin, only to be interrupted once more.

“There’s no fucking way we lost!”

“Babe… it happens! Sometimes you’ll get paired with a team of a higher rank, especially after a winning streak, but that’s alright! I’m sure we can win the next one, and if you want, I can bring one of my friends to he—”

“I don’t think the other team was the problem” He suddenly says, grabbing your attention almost immediately upon implying something that went against your common belief. “In fact, I don’t think they’re the problem at all”

“What do you mean?” you cautioned, mind scattering to find a justification behind his wording.

This is only the third day you’ve played this game —which he coincidentally pre-ordered for you just so the two could play together— so it would make sense as to why Naoya would consider you as the reason for this loss, however, this is nothing different from other games from the same genre, if not from a different dynamic here and there.

So, to think you’ve actually cost your team the victory was something you still had trouble accepting completely. “I… still think we did good”

Nonetheless, Naoya’s words were never direct, an ulterior motive always underlying, but your rose-tinted glasses never allowed you to detect such fallacy from your beloved partner. Which would ultimately be your demise.

“God, you’re so stupid, aren’t you?” Naoya accused, having stopped listening to your soothing words from the very moment you opened your mouth. “It’s so clearly obvious and you just can’t fucking see it”

“See… it?” you faltered, feeling even more confused than before “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, Naoya-kun… our stats are pretty good, I mean, maybe I could’ve focused a bit more when we—”

“Unbelievable, you’re always like this” Naoya mocks, finding your naïve mind to be… incredulous, as he’d always have “It’s always the fucking same, you’re too dumb, too distracted to notice what is going on around you. Why am I even wasting my time with you?”

“Then tell me” you say, trying to fight against the pain his stinging words bring to you—they feel like needles against your heart, but you think of them as him trying to get out his frustration for a long night of defeats, nothing more, nothing less. “Tell me so I won’t do it again”

And he was, in a way. But the percentage relating to his anger before the game was minuscule when it came to the general frustration he’d been carrying towards you for the last few days, and your inability to give him what he wanted. This was nothing more than a cover for his true feelings, which, thanks to your urgency to please him, would finally come undone and plunge him into losing all of his inhibitions.

“Hah! I really do have to spell it out, don’t I? I give you money, I give you food, I give you clothes, and still, you can’t think anything with that stupid little brain of yours, can you?” he’d begin to rant, disclosing the inner thoughts he’d always had when around you.

“I know you’re angry, Naoya-kun, but you don’t have to say that…” to say that you were agonizing due to his words would be an understatement, but even with the pain he’s merciless inflicting on you, you still find it in you to defend his excuses under the basis that he was just angry and that deep inside him, he loved you.

Oh… if only that were true.

“Oh, really? Then how do you want me to say it to you? By ordering you to open your legs and show me? Because that’s the only thing you’re good at—no, not even that!” He laughs “You won’t even do that! Because you’re too afraid, too scared to do something that might ruin what we have” 

He’d said mockingly, using what you trusted him with against you. A clear tactic of a narcissistic, someone that can’t see beyond their own nose. 

This unexpected side of Naoya has you bewildered, disoriented, that you didn’t even notice when you’ve began crying, only that your cheeks were already soaked.

“Stop it, Naoya! You’re being rude!”

“Ah, of course, because when I’m not giving you attention and money, I’m being rude”

“That’s not what I said!” you cried. “I’ve—I’ve never said that! Never!”

“I’m wasting my time with you” He repeats, a sentence that plummets down onto you like a bucket of ice cold water. “I’m giving you all that you want, and yet, you don’t give me what I want, because you apparently want to take things slow—but you're not slow when you’re being a whore to your followers!”

“Naoya!” You bawled “Why—why are you even saying this? It was just a game! We can still play again and win another match! You—you don’t have to get all this angry and ugly with me—!”

“I’m done with you” He says coldly “I’m done spending my fucking time and money with you. I should’ve seen this coming the moment I set eyes on you. Whores like you are only for a good time, but you’re not even good for that”

…

…

…

“...Is that what you think of me?” you manage to ask through a constrained throat. It’s a miracle that you were even able to speak a whole sentence without crying or stammering.

But it was all for naught.

And when time passes, and all that you could hear from Naoya was the occasional exhale from his nose—too consumed by his anger, alongside the sensation that there is nothing more to say— you hang up the call, exit the lobby, and log off.

Naoya somehow manages to go to bed that night: not without repercussions of course.

He’s angered and frustrated when his head hits the pillow. But not because of his actions towards you, no, if anything, he thinks what he did was a long overdue reality check.  

He was upset because all of his efforts officially concluded in fruitless results. For a man as successful as he’d always been, this was a rather unwanted turn of events. He never had to struggle this much to obtain what he wanted, it had always been a matter of just asking and he’d receive it. 

But you, a simple woman with nothing more than air in her head, proved to be more of an annoyance than he ever thought you would be. 

You were promising at first. There was something that pulled his attention to you whenever he found himself with free time to think. 

Yet, that had been a grave miscalculation on his part. Thus, could you blame him for being frustrated? It was only natural that after pouring so much effort, gifts, attention, money onto you, you’d give him something back.

And yet, you didn’t. 

It’s why he allowed himself to last out the way he did. That, and because Naoya knew that you’d be running back to him after your insignificant emotional charade was over. 

After all, he essentially ensured his place in your life after becoming the sole income of your commodities. You were dumb, but not that dumb. And you wouldn’t risk losing all that just by running away, would you?

So, he’s able to go to sleep and move on with his life when the sun rises the next morning.

Taking into consideration his train of thought, the first thing that he does once completely awake is check his phone if there’s any notifications from your part. He doesn’t keep his phone connected to the wi-fi throughout the night under the excuse of not wanting to receive messages from work—if it was urgent, then they’ll have to wait until he’s at the office.

Something that you knew perfectly, which led you to message him directly to his personal number first thing in the morning. A short good morning! Text which came either before you went to bed after a long stream, or when waking up…

He glances at the “messages” app in hopes of finding a red circle on its corner. It’s there, but...

There’s nothing from your section.

There are no new messages from you. The only ones filling his inbox are those of his brothers demanding an explanation regarding his bank statement which had suddenly been plagued with incalculable expenses from a few weeks ago to now.

The answer was obvious, everything pertains to you, but he’s not one to tell them things that aren’t his business so he limits himself to rolls his eyes and deletes their messages before moving onto your social media.

If you haven't messaged him there, he was sure he’d find you to be active on your instagram. It was your most active social media, the place you’d spent most of your time, right after twitch, under the pretense of wanting to share a bit of your personal to your large following. He considered it to be… redundant, nothing more than to show off. But as the businessman as he was, he had to commend your commitment to keep them hooked on your “brand”

Naoya once attempted to get you to stop posting all together, so as to keep you solely for his eyes, but you denied his request, citing that “you couldn’t defraud your faithful followers!”

Noting this to be a senseless battle, he lets it go.

So, he rightfully assumes that you were already posting shit about being hurt and betrayed and whatnot, all in an attempt to obtain pity from them, because he’d be damned if he decides to allow it from himself.

But… he’s wrong.

There’s nothing new coming from your side. No new story, no new post, not even a livestream—nothing but complete radio silence.

He wants to admit that this is somewhat concerning considering how active you are throughout the day, but his pride is all too powerful to even let him feel anything else but anger, tricking him into believing that this is nothing more than a cry for attention for your followers, or more specifically, him.

So, he closes the app, gets ready, and moves on with his day. 

He goes to work as if nothing happened, finishing up some projects that his family has been pestering him about for the past few weeks, a timeline that he could’ve easily spent focusing on his job instead of you, but for someone as talented as him, it was only a matter of focusing for a few hours to get done with all of them.

It’s during his lunch break that he finally decides to check his phone for traces of your presence. Naoya expects you to have already messaged him, probably hungry trying to get a free meal out of him—only to be surprised that you remained quiet. There isn’t an update to be found anywhere from your social media, not even directly to him.

You were essentially off the grid for well above 12 hours and he… he can’t help but start to feel worried. But his concern doesn’t flood him until you missed your scheduled stream for the day and the subsequent ones.

Your followers were also aware of your sudden silence, but their assumptions are not confirmed until you went a whole week without posting anything. It’s only then that they decide to flood your posts with comments to reflect their concern, and hopefully… an answer to this agonizing mystery.

It’s rare for you to miss so many streams like this, I hope you’re ok, Y/N-chan 🙁

What happened?? Are you sick or something? I was looking forward to tonight's stream! It’s the only day I get to see you!

Maybe she forgot about it??

Nah, that’s impossible, she never does that, not without telling us anyways.

Did she get hacked maybe?

Don’t think so, all of her things are still here. If she were hacked, she would’ve started posting some crypto shit.

Did she go missing?? Can someone ask any of her friends if she’s ok??

It was only a matter of time she would ditch us after getting all that money from us. She scammed us 🙄

Scam?? Are you an idiot??? She’s giving us free content, the least you could do is support her! Besides, this is very rare coming from her…  Something must be going on; if you don’t have anything to say, then don’t say anything at all.

She could be in danger for all we know… should we call the authorities?

The last comment makes something daunting resonate inside Naoya—agitation strikes his chest as he plunges for his phone and types your number. 

He… he doesn’t think you’d actually do something just because you were upset with him… right? But there’s nothing wrong in making sure either! 

But what if you did? What if you did do something because of what—

For the first time in his life, he finds himself indecisive when it comes to you, sinking deeper and deeper into his despair when the phone continues to ring and you are yet to pick up.

At least you haven’t blocked him, he attempts to console himself, or discarded your phone because either option would’ve sent him straight voicemail or the warning messaging of a disconnected number.

Alternatives that did nothing to ease his concern, worsening when each attempt continued to give him the same results.

His apprehension is eating him alive, and by each passing day, each passing hour, he can’t stop thinking about you, that is, until he finally concludes that he needs to know if you’re alive, or that at least still living in the same city, or he won’t be able to live anymore.

A newfound determination Which leads him to muster up all his courage and make way to your apartment once and for all.

He jumps out of the car as soon as the engine is turned off, not caring if he locked the doors or if he parked in the right spot—the neighbors could call a tow truck, or rob him for all he cared for. All that he wanted to do was see you again.

Naoya runs towards your apartment complex, skipping through the steps until he arrives at your recognizable door, frantically ringing your doorbell to urge whoever’s on the other side of the door to attend to him. 

His heart is beating painfully against his chest, ears ringing as nobody seems to answer his call—a dark premonition becoming a reality.

Did you really leave? Did his words really hurt you that much, that you decided to just leave everything behind and disconnect from the world? No. That couldn’t be—you wouldn’t dare leave him without saying a word! He… he gave you everything you ever wanted, how could you let a few words he only meant at the heat of the moment change what the two of you had? What you felt for him?! It didn’t matter, if that was the case, then the only thing he had left to do was to find you. Bring you back to him even if it means going to the end of the world to do so.

His family had connections all across the country, he was sure he could set some kind of bounty on you to find your whereabouts, and once you’re back with him, he would never—

“Coming!” A voice comes from the other door. It’s soft, distant, but carried an urgency as if the owner had been busy prior to their visit and was now rushing to tend to the door. It’s enough to quiet his rambling mind, at least for a few seconds. Unfortunately, his body continued to tremble with uneasiness, more so when quick footsteps were now heard within the vicinity.

The lock clicks open, and the door slowly slides to the outside.

Naoya’s blurry gaze falls onto the figure before him, releasing a heavy breath once he realizes who it is.

It’s you.

Naoya feels both elated and relieved to see you still living in the same apartment, and seemingly safe and sound, but you don’t hold the same sentiment, in fact, your intrigued face is quick to change into one of anger once you realize it’s your ex-boyfriend visiting you, and in accordance to your feelings, you’re quick to reach out for the door knob and slam the door shut on his face, that is, if he hadn’t been fast enough to see your reaction coming from a mile away and put his foot between the door and the frame, trapping you into confront him.

“Wait!” He huffs, placing his fingers on the edge of the door (while silently hoping you wouldn’t crush them) and pulls it back “Don’t—Don’t close the door on me!”

“Leave me alone!” you cry back, tugging and pulling at the door as hard as you can, almost as if you were intending to crush his fingers, or foot, or maybe even both. But having the upper hand when it comes to strength, Naoya is finally able to pull the door away from your grasp, forcing you to react with a quick gasp. “I—I said leave me alone! Why are you even here?!!”

“Isn’t it obvious?!” He cries back, pushing his way into your apartment. “I wanted to see you!” 

“And what for, huh?! Why—Why would you even want to see a stupid woman like me?!” 

Naoya is hit with a slight wave of regret upon being on the receiving end of his mistreatment. It has his conscience vacillating for a quick second before latching back to reality and refocusing on you.

“I just want to talk” He frowned “You were basically gone for a few days, don’t you think that’d be concerning for anyone?!”

“Why would it?” you breathe “You said I was nothing more than a whore—no, less than that! Why—why would anyone care—care about someone as worthless as me?!”

“Because you’re not worthless to me” Naoya blurts, and now it’s your turn to waver. It’s like whiplash after the last conversation you had with him—a sensation that naturally has you doubting his words.

“That’s not what you—”

“Yes! I know what I said!” He groans out of frustration, the harsh tone of his voice makes you flinch and take a step away from him. Naoya quickly notices your jolted eyes, and in fear of pushing you into another vanishing spiral, his eyes soften. “Just— please, I want to talk”

Whether to hurry this whole ordeal to an end, or because you never expected him to come seeking you… you allow him to stay.  

Naoya would’ve never assumed something happened to you by the looks of your apartment—it looked cleaned, organized, and decorated with things he recognized to be part of your hobbies.

An easy expectation to have, for he’d never visited your apartment in the short time he was dating you.

Had he been there before, he would’ve noticed that the cups were no longer in their respective cupboard, or that you have been eating nothing more than what you considered comfort food, an unhealthy lifestyle to reflect your unhealthy thoughts—but even if he became aware of that, you doubted he would’ve even cared.

However, your… “casual” attire stepped in where your home failed to do so. You were wearing nothing more than a light blue fleece tracksuit, a makeup-free face and a hairstyle that implied your need to stay inside the house, caring less if you looked good or not, you just wanted to be comfortable… and alone.

And if none of these things helped him understand your feelings, the somber look in your eyes, nothing but a shadow of the joyful glint they would usually carry, would.

Guilt sinks deeper inside his core as you proceed to close the door behind him, making your way back to one of the couches in your small living room and sitting as far away as possible from him.

By the way you refused to speak to him, not even to show common courtesy and offer him a glass of water, Naoya soon realizes it’s your method of telling him to start the conversation. After all, he’s the one that wanted to talk, no? Why shouldn’t he be the one to do so?

He’d been in situations where he’s the one leading conversations, through different and tense meetings that often entailed important deals that could either make or break his company and the legacy of his family.

In other words, Naoya is no stranger to stress and public speaking.

However, none of those nerve-wracking moments could compare to what he’s feeling now: he would’ve never imagined that talking to a woman, of all things, could have him shaking like a leaf.

But you weren’t any woman— you were the one he’d been fancying for a while now, invested so much time, so much energy… as well as gravely wronged.

All things that he’s never had the fortune of encountering before, but he wasn’t raised to cower away from the face of uncertainty, and just like his father taught him, he decides to approach the situation with the obvious.

“You… you’ve been gone” He begins, tensely looking at you as he debates whether to sit by your side or remain on his spot “And you’ve been avoiding me too”

“I needed a break” is all that you say, perhaps to deflect facing the truth. However, both knew this was nothing more than a fallacy and it wouldn’t take long before he calls it out.

“That’s bullshit!” He argued, a bit too loud for your liking, and you frown. Upon seeing your scrunched face, he’s washed over by another wave of guilt and retracts his words. “I mean… that’s not true. You never go absent on social media”

“What do you want me to say, Naoya?”

“The truth, for a start”

“If you’re going to act like that, you can leave my apartment—” you say, intending to push yourself up from the sofa, but Naoya walks over to your spot before you can do as much as lift an inch away from the furniture, followed by sitting by your side to keep you there.

“Fine, fine!” He breathes, holding your arm “I was worried, ok? You didn’t even answer my calls”

“I didn’t think you would care—I mean, who would care for a less-than-a-whore person like me? And don’t touch me!” you tug your arm away from him. 

“I didn’t think you’d overrea—”

“Shut it, Naoya!” you scolded “Is this—Is this all that you came here to do? Make fun of my feelings?! You—you hurt me!! I didn’t want to take your words at heart, thinking it to be nothing more than your anger speaking but when you started calling me those awful names…. that’s when I knew everything was a lie”

“What do you mean by a lie?” He counters “I gave you all you ever wanted, didn’t I?!”

“That’s not even the point! And even if it was… I—I thought you did it because you liked me. Me! Not…. not the person I was before the camera or in my social media, but because you wanted me. But… you don’t like me, do you? You don’t like me at all” 

Naoya blinks “How did you even get to that conclusion? We basically spent all of our free time together!”

“Because you don’t tell me anything about you! About your family, about your work. You don’t let me visit you at your office, you don’t want to go to public places, you haven’t even introduced me to your friends! It’s like you’re ashamed of me!” you sobbed, hiding your face with your hands to avoid embarrassing yourself before him any further “You made me feel ashamed of myself, that I—I thought maybe I… I shouldn’t even bother being here”

“What?” Naoya sputters, inching closer to you and grabbing your wrist in hopes of pulling them away from your face, but all that you do is turn away from him. “You can’t possibly be serious—”

“Am I lying?!” you shriek “Do you not avoid the topic whenever I ask you about your job, or your family, or when I tell you about places we could go, but you just shut them down because it’s too frequented?!”

“Now it’s a problem if I want to go somewhere private?!”

“Just admit that you don’t want to be seen in the public with me! That you’re ashamed of being with a whore like me! Why—why did you even stick around for so long if you don’t even like me?!”

If he was to answer that question, it would be an easy, direct “I just wanted to fuck you” explanation.

However… his conscience can’t seem to formulate that thought at the moment, because the reality was that… he no longer felt like that towards you.

In fact, he didn’t feel like that for you for a long time. now.

What initially started as just another “high-maintenance” hook up, nothing more of a relationship of benefit slowly became… something else.

Truth to be told, he was in complete agony the days you were absent in his life. He tried to focus on his job, get projects done, hold meetings, interview new candidates… but he couldn't. His mind always found himself back on your silent social media, or your non-responsive messaging chat, the vacancy of your cheerful good morning! That would greet him before anyone else.

The congratulatory cheer when he’d occasionally confide in you of a job well done after a long day at work, or the euphoric glint in your eye whenever you opened one of his gifts, followed by a hug and kiss on the cheek as a thank you before showing it off to your followers.

The silly videos you'd send him thinking they would make him laugh, or the long gaming sessions you’d give him, and only him, even when you have a large following that would literally do anything to be in the same room as you…

Or how you’d remember the little mundane details of his hobbies by gifting him items relating to such details, such as the newest manga book from whatever series he was currently reading, or a shirt that you saw one day at the mall and thought would fit him nicely.

Attention that none of the other women had bothered to give him, at least not as heart warming and genuine as you’ve done. 

They might’ve been appreciative of what he’d done, but it was clear that there were no intentions of appreciating him as a person. As Naoya, and not the heir of a rich company.

But you didn’t. He felt seen with you and…

And he didn’t know what he had until he’d lost it. When his hot headedness led him to discard you and subsequently, to the prospect of never seeing you again.

It’s now, found in your warm presence after so many cold absences, and in the reflections of all that you’ve done to him, that he realizes that you’ve always given him what he wanted and that he’s unequivocally fallen in love with you.

“I see” you murmur upon noticing his silence and… taking it as an affirmation to your painful suspicions “...please, leave me alone. And don’t look for me, I won’t be staying here any longer”

Naoya can’t move.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I have things to pack” you say as you stand up “I would appreciate it if you left me to do what I need to do”

He can’t believe your words. Or more like, he doesn’t want to believe them.

His worst fear, a life without you, is just moments away from becoming true. You had… had decided you no longer wanted him to be in your life—you were more than ready to toss him away, and… leave, never to see him again.

And that—that hurt him.

Is this how you felt when he told you all those things?

Oh… how could he ever do this to you?

He—he can’t let this end that way. He can’t let you go, not… not like this.

So, just as you were walking away, presumably heading back to your bedroom, Naoya jumped up from the sofa and ran towards you. You yelp as he pulls you by the arm and into his chest, quick to wrap his arms around you as he holds you as tight as he can without hurting you.

You thrashed and pushed him as hard as you could, wanting nothing more than to be away from the man that broke your heart in a million, irreparable pieces and never see him again.

But he can’t let you go, not until you hear what he was now absolutely sure of.

“I don’t like you” Naoya says, and you believe your heart to crumple once more, that is until… “I love you”

“W—what?” you gasp the only words that could escape your lips in this moment of incredulity.

“You heard me” he remarked “I… love you, Y/N”

“Don’t lie to me! I can’t—I can’t deal with more pain… please”

“You’re none of those mean words I told you” he continues on “I was angry, misguided for what I thought you wanted from me, what I thought I wanted from you, but these days without you have been nothing more than pure agony”

“Then why… why would you call me that?” you whispered against his shirt, quieting down your attack against him. “Why would you push me away?”

Because he was afraid you weren’t as interested in him as he was in you.

A materialistic world was all that Naoya has ever known in his life—give people what they want, and you’d be getting what you wanted.

But it seemed that no matter what he did, you just… never seemed to completely give yourself to him, almost as if you were holding off because… because you didn’t want him.

“I got… jealous… and scared” is what he’s willing to admit “I get jealous when I see you get all that attention… I just… I just think that maybe—”

“I might look at someone else?”

Naoya doesn’t respond, and you take his silence as a positive answer.

“Oh… Naoya….” you finally look up to him, soft eyes landing on his watery ones. “I would never, you know I would never”

He doesn’t want to respond, too ashamed to have believed you capable of pain, when all you’ve given him was happiness.

“It… also hurt me to be away from you… because… because I—I love you too”

Naoya freezes. It was now his moment to doubt his ears.

“Do you… do you mean that?”

“Of course I do” you smile with a sniffle “I thought I told you before but I’ll tell you again—I’ve never felt the way I do with you with anyone else. With you… I feel loved, safe. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you… so it pains me to hear that you’d think I would ever leave you”

“I'm just worried… you have a large following that seem to adore you”

“Well, that’s my job” You remind him “And… It's how we met… If I didn’t stream video games, we would've never met at that store… and subsequently, I would’ve never fallen in love with you. But… if it’s something that you don’t like… I can’t stop it all together”

“Would you do that for me?” Naoya asks, surprised by your sudden suggestion.

“...I didn’t like being away from you” you admit, pressing your cheek against his chest and listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. “You’re the only one that… has ever treated me like this. How you do… as nicely, lovingly as you do”

“...does this mean you won’t leave?” Naoya asks, and you shake your head.

“... I wasn’t planning on doing so permanently… I just wanted to try something differently”

“And your followers?”

“I… can arrange something. I know they’re not going to take it well but… I’m sure they’ll get over it” you grin “But I’m not sure how I’m going to pay for this apartment if I’m not working anymore”

“Come live with me”

“Wh—What?”

“... I can get something just for the two of us, away from our family” Naoya explains “The reason why I kept you away is because they’re not known for being very… friendly. If I told you just the amount of shit they get me into because they’re jealous of me”

“You don’t have to tell me anymore” You chuckle. “I believe you”

“Well, we should get back to packing your things if you want to move to my apartment”

“Now?!” You gasp “But I can’t leave if I have a lease!”

“Leave that to me, I’m sure your landlord wouldn’t mind getting an extra for your release”

“Oh, Naoya… I… I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all of this!”

“You can start… by doing my lunch” he sheepishly suggests, and the way your face lightens up has his heart fluttering.

“Does that mean…?”

“On certain occasions, there are days I have to go out”

You don’t let him say anything else as you pepper him with kisses all over his face. A gesture that Naoya takes with great pleasure as he reciprocates it with kisses of his own.

And so, this seals your acceptance of his apology. Followed by packing your things, changing your clothes, and leaving the apartment as soon as you were ready to go into his car and face your new life alongside him.

And how couldn’t you? He’s kind, loving, attentive, the kind of person anyone would want as a partner. He even looked for you to recognize he had messed up. 

It might also help that he’s the heir of a prestigious company, but you don’t think that influenced much when it came to forgiving him. 

Had you known he came from an important family, you would’ve treated him differently. You would’ve never set eyes on him after seeing him in a social event. You would’ve never approached him at the mall one Friday afternoon, under the pretense of looking for a physical copy of the newest release once you figured out he liked video games, or venerated him in the way you knew men of his kind often enjoyed to rope him into your claws, play coyly around him to get him to obsess over you, convince him that you love him and you could never imagine a life without him, and subsequently ensure a lifestyle of comfort for the rest of your days.

No, you could never do that.

After all, you’re nothing more than an oblivious woman, incapable of ever harming anyone, just as Naoya believed you to be :) 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

weird question but do you know any place i can find a summary of chapter 5? or if you have one? i dont like vil so i cant really make myself sit and read the whole chapter but i wanna move forward and read chapter 6 but ALSO feel like i should know the important plot points so im not like "wtf is going on"

I mean 🥲 I don’t like Vil either, but I’d still highly encourage you to read episode 5! Getting a summary isn’t really the same as experiencing the story for yourself; the visuals, songs, and voice acting really helps to sell the emotions and the stakes. Who knows, maybe you’ll leave episode 5 with a little more appreciation for Vil (or the other characters; they all have various cute or heroic moments)? He’ll come back to play a major role in episode 6 anyway, and his character moments won’t hit as hard if you didn’t read 5. For example, there’s a particular line of Rook’s in 5 that Vil repeats in 6 which really hammers home his character development since 5.

… Although I won’t lie, episode 5 has veeery slow pacing because it’s basically one long, dragged out training arc 😂 so I’ll summarize what happens anyway; just know that I’d still recommend actually playing through the story yourself, especially if any of these plot points seem too cool or too interesting to not witness yourself. I’ll be glossing over things that aren’t relevant to the main conflict, so 💦 please keep that in mind!

Sooo Yuu starts off Book 5: A Beautiful Tyrant by finally starting to put the pieces together; they visit the Great Seven statues and confirm their own suspicions that the figures in their dreams are the same as the people depicted in the G7 statues (though their actions are framed as more “evil” in the dreams).

Yuu tells Adeuce and Grim about Mickey! They suggest that Yuu takes a picture of Mickey with the Ghost Camera so they can use it to investigate who or what he is.

There’s a dorm leader meeting to give exposition about an upcoming event. NRC will be having a two-day cultural festival in about two months! They will put on a bunch of activities, as well as showcase their clubs and give presentations on the art and research their students have produced.

One of the biggest events is the Vocal and Dance Championship (VDC). In EN, this has been changed to Song and Dance Championship (SDC), so I will refer to it by the English name to avoid confusion. It’s basically the music industry equivalent to what the Magical Shift/Spelldrive tournament was in episode 2; it’s a golden opportunity to launch many people’s singing careers in the entertainment industry. (A lot of talent agencies will apparently clamor to sign you on for a professional debut if you’re a SDC finalist!) The favorites to win this year are Vil and Neige Leblanche (twisted from Snow White).

I won’t mention every single time this happens, but throughout the chapter Vil has these segments where he asks his phone assistant Mira (TWST Alexa or Siri, basically) who the fairest of them all is. Mira always replies with “Neige Leblanche”, which seems to greatly frustrate Vil.

Anyway, Adeuce and Grim are interested in entering SDC because if the team representing their school makes it to the finals, they’ll get a cash prize of 50,000 thaumarks (5 million madol in JP).

Ace and Grim are pumped about trying out for NRC’s team, but Deuce is hesitant and bails.

The group eats lunch and then chills in the courtyard; it’s here that they hear singing and follow the song. It was Epel who was singing down a well (a Snow White reference), because he thought the well would help project his voice more clearly.

Deuce recognizes Epel as the crying boy he ran into at the end of episode 4! Epel says he recognizes Yuu and co. from the Magical Shift/Spelldrive tournament; he also heard about them from his classmate Jack.

Epel tells them about how his dorm leader Vil wants him to practice singing and that he’ll be a part of the SDC auditions. However, it seems that Epel isn’t eager to do this (which Deuce notices).

Vil comes to check on Epel and catches him talking to Yuu and co,; he is disappointed in Epel for “slacking off” and tries to drag him off. When Epel resists, Vil reminds him of a promise they made, which makes Epel fall into line.

Ace, ever the nosy one, picks a fight with Vil (because he doesn’t think he should be bossing Epel around). Epel begs everyone to not do it, but they fight anyway and Vil is, of course, victorious.

This reinvigorates Deuce’s motivation to be in SDC; he wants to help Epel, who seemed to be so hesitant about taking part.

Adeuce and Grim practice dancing on the basketball court. Here they run into Kalim and Jamil, who are also planning on auditioning since they already enjoy singing and dancing. The Scarabia boys give some pointers on dancing to Adeuce and Grim.

Azul shows up; he needed to find Jamil (they’re classmates) because Professor Trein needed his help with handing papers out. The boys banter a bit and Azul reveals that he was bluffing in episode 4 about live streaming Jamil’s breakdown and OB to the world. Only the Scarabia dorm members are aware of the incident.

Tying up loose ends from the ending of 4!! Kalim was able to convince everyone to let Jamil stay on as vice and to give him a second chance. Jamil claims that he is behaving for now to atone what he did, though he also says he will work hard to prove his worth.

The Scarabia boys tell Adeuce to sign up for SDC auditions via a “Rook Hunt”, who is in class 3-A. They go and do this and uh (well, Leona cameo but that’s not important) 🤡 well, Rook does what he does best and spooks them.

Cut to the VDC auditions! We see other competitors, one of which is Lilia (who delivered a holiday card from “M.D.” to Yuu) and Cater! They share some tea about the mysterious Shroud brothers, who enrolled at the same time and seem to do everything together.

Cater wants to show Grim a video, but he’s forced to sit through an ad first. It’s an advertisement for an apple soda featuring Neige (who, if you’ll recall, is one of the favorites to win SDC).

We get to hear various characters (Cater, Ruggie, Kalim, Jamil, Epel, Ortho, and Lilia) sing part of TWST’s opening song, Piece of My World!

Auditions wrap up and at first Vil wants to pick only the best performers, a she believes this will give him the greatest chance of beating Neige. However, Rook stops him and suggests that he instead pick people who are rough around the edges so Vil can polish them to perfection. Rook points out that he sees a lot of potential in Adeuce in particular.

Rook shoots an arrow at Adeuce with a letter attached to it letting them know they passed auditions, so they should report to Pomefiore dorm. Yuu is also told to come along.

The gang pulls up to Pomefiore and meet Kalim and Jamil there. Turns out the Scarabia duo have also passed!

A bunch of Pomefiore students start attacking them, but they manage to battle their way to Pomefiore’s ballroom where Vil is waiting. This was all a test he arranged so they could prove their worth to him.

So the SDC team is: Vil, Rook, Epel, Jamil, Kalim, Ace, and Deuce.

There’s only a month left until SDC. Crowley wants Yuu to let the NRC team hold their training camp at Ramshackle, since he is convinced that living together will help them build teamwork. He originally thought of holding the camp at Pomefiore, but he didn’t want some students to feel out of their element. They get bribed with a cut of the prize money and the promise of Ramshackle renovations 😂 so Yuu’s like “Okay, sure. C’mon in.”

Everyone moves in, and Vil starts imposing new rules on the SDC team members. For example, he takes away their snacks (including an apple pie and chocolate cake that Trey sent with Adeuce) and says he has designed low calorie yet nutritional meals for them. (I want to be clear here: some people misinterpret this part as “Vil is starving them like Mama Rosehearts starved Riddle!” which is NOT true. Rook says that this is not a diet in that sense, but to help them be in shape. Vil wants them to eat healthily so they can perform at their best.)

Vil gets a phone call from his manager who says he has been offered a role in a biiig movie production… as the villain. The hero for this movie will be played by Neige. Upon learning this, Vil becomes irritated and insists his manager reject the offer. He doesn’t care how much money he could earn from this, he says that all he wants to do is “stand the stage until the very end”. Vil then tells his manager to not contact him again until SDC is over.

It is revealed that the voting for SDC is done via audience poll, not by professional judges. This is an important detail to keep in mind for later.

Vil shows the group an original song (Absolutely Beautiful). In EN, he says he commissioned it but in JP he is more vague with his wording, which has led some fans to conclude that Vil personally worked on producing this song. (Uhhh, they also sing Piece of My World at some point.)

He tries to show them a video to help everyone get a feel for the dance choreography, and another ad featuring Neige plays. The boys talk about how Neige is such a popular celeb these days, and how he’s a student of Royal Sword Academy so that makes him their rival. Vil says something cryptic about how he’ll finally defeat Neige this time.

Vil picks himself, Epel, and Jamil as the main vocalists. Jamil is surprised and starts to say that Kalim should be picked instead of him, but Jamil stops himself and accepts the role.

Epel says he isn’t sure about being picked, but Vil again brings up their promise which makes him comply.

They keep practicing and Epel pisses Vil off when he says the dance is too girly. Vil chews Epel out for having outdated views on gender and then places him on a solo ballet regimen. Deuce asks to join Epel for his ballet lessons!

A ghost delivers 10 crates of apple juice to Epel. This is unsold stock from his family’s business, which is struggling at the moment. They all chill and sip on the apple juice!

Vil interrupts to lecture them on skincare. Ace asks isn’t there magic to make them instantly beautiful? This seems to annoy Vil, who says that he’s not interested in “beauty that only lasts until the strike of midnight”.

Yuu wakes up in the middle of the night to find Kalim singing outside Ramshackle. He confesses that he’s frustrated about not being chosen as a main vocalist. Kalim’s so used to having everything handed to him that the experience of being overlooked surprised him. He says that he wants to try hard so that he will genuinely be picked for something because he’s actually the best choice for it.

It’s revealed that Jamil was listening in on Kalim!

Adeuce sneak bites of Trey’s apple pie and chocolate cake. Vil catches them in the act 🤡 Adeuce suddenly fall over and can’t move!! Vil tells them he put a curse on the baked goods using his unique magic/signature spell. Fairest One of All allows Vil to lay a curse for anything he touches. The conditions he sets must be fulfilled, for even the original caster cannot lift it. (Vil cursed the pie and cake so that if anyone eats it, they cannot move until morning comes.)

Yuu sees Mickey in the mirror again but fails to take a picture of him. They begin to wonder how their original world and Mickey’s may be connected.

This isn’t relevant in the story of 5, but it may be important overall lore-wise. Apparently it is possible to transfer into NRC; Kalim originally did not go to NRC but the dark carriage came for him one month after Jamil enrolled.

Epel becomes frustrated with practice and wants to quit the team. He fights with Vil and loses, prompting Epel to run off.

Deuce suggests maybe Vil be nicer, but Vil snaps that Deuce has no room to be worrying about others or taking back when he’s falling behind the rest of the team. Vil compares Deuce to Ace, saying that the difference between them is too obvious. Ace tells Deuce to focus on himself more, and Deuce gets mad because someone naturally gifted like Ace wouldn’t understand him.

The team is really fractured at this point, so Jamil suggests taking a break. During this break, Rook advises Vil that he show Epel “the power of beauty”, to which Vil agrees.

Rook and Kalim give Deuce a pep talk! It leads Deuce to nabbing a magical wheel (blastcycle?) from Ignihyde and driving himself and Epel to a local beach. (They also see RSA on the way!)

The two shout their frustrations at the sea, and Epel’s dialect comes out full force which shocks Deuce. Epel then explains how he doesn’t want people to underestimate him because of his looks. On his first day (before he was sorted into a dorm), Vil tells him to button up his shirt and comments on his cute face, which causes Epel to instigate a fight.

Vil wins and tells Epel that “the weak obey the strong”, so until Epel is able to beat him, he has to listen to everything Vil says. This explains why Epel usually hides his dialect; Vil says that he doesn’t have a problem with Epel’s love for his hometown, but that there is a time and place for the dialect and his rude attitude. In this case, he must address his superiors properly.

The two first years have a heart-to-heart! Epel talks about wanting to become stronger, and Deuce talks about how how his own strength is how amazingly stupid and stubborn he is.

Epel gets a phone call from his mom!! Their business was suddenly flooded with orders from all over the world, and she says a customer told her it was because of “Vil”, whom Mrs. Felmier recognized as Epel’s dorm leader. She asks him to thank Vil for her.

Vil made a Magicam post featuring the Felmier family apple juice! All of his fans want to try the same juice, so they’re buying it en masse. This is the “power of beauty” Vil wanted to show him, that being beautiful and being strong can be powerful in their own rights, and that until Epel understands that, he can never defeat Vil.

They’re interrupted by some random NPCs that want to ride on Deuce’s (borrowed) ride. The NPCs get aggressive, but Epel is able to catch them off-guard with his cutesy looks. This lets Epel get some hits in!

The NPCs are beating them 😔 but suddenly…?! Deuce’s magical power overflows…!!

We cut to a later point that day when Epel and Deuce return, apologize to Vil, and rejoin the SDC group. Deuce confronts Ace and swears to him that he doesn’t plan on losing to him!

Crowley gives everyone in the team tickets for them to invite people to see the show. Yuu gives their ticket to Malleus.

The cultural festival has arrived at last! Yuu spends some time looking around at the attractions with Grim. We get a bunch of cameos from other characters.

While looking through some of the exhibitions, they see some NRC mob students bullying some short RSA students. The NRC boys intervene, and then Chenya comes to pick up the short kids (which are twisted versions of the Seven Dwarves).

Yuu and co. go to the SDC location (the Purple Stage) for rehearsals. Surprise?! Neige appears!! Vil is curt but professional with him.

NRC does their practice run and, for a brief moment, Vil is considered “most beautiful” (he checks with Mira). Buuut then Neige and the dwarves do their practice run (EN removed the song Minna de Yahoo), and Neige is on top again 😭 (Their performance isn’t even that well-executed, they’re very clumsy and everything. The song also isn’t very unique; it’s an arrangement of a popular children’s song from the Shaftlands. However, it still makes the filming staff feel nostalgic and they gush about how cute Neige is and how pure he makes them feel.)

Vil gets a scary look on his face and leaves; Rook, Kalim, and Jamil notice the look he made 👁️ 👄 👁️ Errr, Vil shatters his phone (“mirror”) in a fit of rage.

Yuu follows Vil backstage because they have a bad feeling. They see Vil offering apple juice from Epel’s family to Neige.

Neige is about to drink it until Rook intervenes and tells him (his “Snow White”) to hurry away because the staff need him. Rook takes the juice for himself and tries to drink it, but then Kalim cuts in and knocks the glass out of his hand.

It starts bubbling on the ground 💀 Vil cursed the apple juice! Kalim says he recognized the face Vil was making; it’s just like Jamil before he went mad over winter break.

Rook says he wanted to drink the juice even knowing it would harm him because he wants to believe that Vil wouldn’t tarnish his beauty and hard work by stooping so low.

The spilled juice vaporizes into a toxic mist, and Vil begins to Overblot 😔 He is different than the previous Overblots in that he is somewhat self-aware of what is happening to him (he shouts at everyone to not look at him, at his “ugliness”; the ugliness here is not literal, Vil is most likely referring to his “ugly” actions (ie the attempt to poison Neige, perhaps even kill him).

Jamil comes on the magic carpet to whisk everyone somewhere safe! He lets them know he used Snake Whisper to get Neige to put on a performance. This performance lured people away to watch him (plus, the first years went around getting rid of loiterers), so the SDC stadium is empty except for OB Vil, Grim, Yuu, and the NRC SDC group.

Deuce saves the day by directing the damage he has taken so far back at Vil…! This is the unique magic/signature spell he unlocked on the beach, Bet the Limit (Double Down in EN).

In the post-OB flashback sequence, we learn that Vil’s dad was a famous actor as well! It seems that Vil has consistently been casted as the villain ever since he started his own acting career. He resents this, because according to him, “a villain never stands on the stage until the very end, they can only watch the happy ending from the sidelines”.

Vil was also bullied in the past, although it is a different kind of bullying than Azul suffered. Other kids assumed he was as cold and cruel as the villains he portrayed in films, dramas, and musicals. (We see young Jack defending Vil!) He worked very hard in hopes of landing a hero role—but he was still never chosen.

Vil wakes up and finds himself upon a ruined Purple Stage. SDC can’t happen like this…

Malleus shows up with his ticket and uses his magic to repair the stage—he came to see their performance, after all. (It is also here when Yuu finally learns who “Tsunotaro/Hornton” truly is.)

SDC happens!! More cameos from characters in the audience as they vote.

RSA wins by one vote. That deciding vote was… Rook! Now, he gets a lot of hate for this move, but 🥲 he explains that he couldn’t lie to himself; he was genuinely moved more by Neige than his own group’s performance. Additionally, he says that even if they technically didn’t win a competition or get the most votes, so long as Vil has the strength to believe in himself… then no matter how old or disheveled Vil is, he will always be fairest of them all.

Vil collapses and cries…

Neige comes over and??? Turns out that Rook is a HUGE Neige fan 😂 (When first moving into Ramshackle, Vil remarks on a thick book Rook brought with him. They never looked at what was inside, but it was a bunch of Neige bromides.) Neige says he recognized Rook as his fan (“R”) because Rook called him “Snow White”.

Aaand Neige says everyone should sing together :)) (Again, this was removed from EN.) Vil suffers a lot :)))

Crowley is mulling over another loss to RSA and encounters its headmaster, Ambrose the 63rd (twisted from… Merlin???). Ambrose remarks that he senses strong magic in the area (probably residual from either Malleus or OB Vil) and that he’ll have to keep an eye on Crowley’s students.

Yuu finally grabs a picture of Mickey, but then notices Grim is missing so they leave to find him.

They see Grim on the Purple Stage eating Vil’s OB stone. When Grim notices Yuu there, he attacks them.

We finish off on a preview to Ignihyde. Idia gave a presentation at the cultural festival that made a lot of people interested in having him as an intern. Ortho offers to read the email opportunities to him, but in a resigned tone, Idia says to delete them all because he thinks he “doesn’t belong anywhere” so it’s not worth trying to.

[deathinfeathers]

As soon as he landed with the assistance of her bass, he hadn't exactly given her any option to try and move them- not right away, anyway. And while it was highly likely that the garden's guard would find them eventually to do their own rendition of rough escorting out, he was content for the moment to hunch aching shoulders and limp wings around her in a golden cocoon as he nuzzled in and out of a light nap at the nape of her neck.

"...y'know, I probably got those enchiladas still in here...somewhere." He mused, wondering if they were still any good. Wouldn't be the first food he tucked under his vestments and forgot about. They both needed food soon after a whole week, but even that whim seemed not as important to him than curling in deeper to close what little gaps remained of their jagged edges joined.

"...don't skip your lunch break so much, huh? Hindsight's a bitch."

"There is actually no conceivable way that I am going to take a week old enchilada out of your pocket and put it inside of my body, Adam."

Nope. Not happening. Nor is this balancing act happening for any longer than the sixty or so seconds it takes her to recapture her bearings and oh so carefully ease them down onto the ground. The reeds bow their heads beneath their weight and the grass rustles in unison like feathers fluffing before a well earned roost. All is well and good and right with the world. Not even the knowledge that she might be jumscared by an overripe tortilla roll at any given moment can chase away this sense of all encompassing bliss.

Quick to wiggle his helmet off and send it rolling into the foliage, she drapes herself overtop his upper body and captures his face inside her palms. A brief moment spent appreciating the sight which had been veiled from her for much too long, of his face, more tired than usual but no less precious to her equally weary marigolds.

Beautiful. Always so beautiful. If she wasn't starving so miserably for the touch of his lips she could easily stare at him until the guards boot them out on their asses. But she only has so much self-restraint left in her. So she dips down, carefully ensnaring his mouth beneath the feather-light caress of her blackened petals.

[nameless-brand]

Pinned Post:

Sato / 18 / she/her. I have moved on past an MS paint icon to a photo of myself.

Owner of an enterprise originating from New Jersey trying to get said company settled into where the Nameless City used to be, now called Gotham.

First thing that greeted me was some ugly Gothic tower from a big-shot company planted right where I died.

Rude.

Anyway, it's been an utter pain in the butt.

----

OOC:

Sato finally gets her own Tunglr blog. Only took the timeline to break to do so. This is the "A Lilium At the End of the World " timeline!

She's the only one that remembers the "Dream's Descent" timeline, given her identity as < Myriad Lights >.

The Dream doesn't exist here because in their first confrontation / the Dream's betrayal, Sato sacrifices her Spark of Godhood to banish it for good. She dies afterwards but not before she manages to set up contingences.

As a result, there's quite a few changes in the new timeline.

No gods, no masters.

-------

Law

No password.

Common decency applies. Don’t do something that you wouldn’t appreciate being done to yourself. We’re all here to have fun.

No sexual NSFW things here or any of my other blogs. Not really my thing.

Multi-fandom and crossover friendly. OC Friendly. 

I am Hika / Lilac. I am an adult!

If you need things tagged, please tell me so I can do so. I will try to preemptively tag for common triggers, but I can’t account for everything.

Given this is an in-character blog, most posts will be short. However, face-to-face will likely be multi-para length.

As I'm double-downing on the Gotham setting, Sato will not know Bruce Wayne is Batman and in fact will be highly resistant to the idea. To her, it's like hearing Elon Musk declaring he's Batman (not to mention other rich people claiming to know or assist the superhero). She doesn't particularly care about supervillainry and superheroism beyond it hurting her bottom line as she's a mostly normal person now.

------

Name: Sato

Moniker: koi, Myriad Lights

Age: 18

Pronouns: She/her

Personality: Determined, she's always been determined. Sure, she's a bit of a ditz and a blabbermouth - okay, more than a bit, but she's always been sincere. Her desires, her dealings with people, her affection.

She still thinks people can be better and be happy, so long as they have the environment to do so.

Problem is she's living in a world in late-stage capitalism, where companies, now giant insatiable organisms of their own, try and grow uncontrollably with no one to check and balance them out. It was like that in the prior world too, but it was so much worse here.

Of course, she already has a lot going on like trying to find her friend who is off god knows where, not to mention the others who are probably living very different lives in this new timeline. And now she has to tackle an enormous societal problem that encompasses the world?

Well, she'd know Levant would want her to do it. And the other factor is that she maaaaay have accidentally blown herself up in a fit of fury against the Dream, so she isn't really a Goddess anymore. But she could still accumulate Faith - and with it, she'll be able to do something to help save Levant when the opportunity reveals itself.

Furthermore, she needs to find the rest of the Nameless Church somehow. Find Lillian - or is it Chi again - especially - Lev would want that. She suspects Mirielle and Sasha escaped the timeline. Well, she knows. She had to literally push Mirielle out of the timeline before she strained it further trying to save her.

In any case, the best way to achieve her goals was to make a massive company on her own - money and resources to find the Nameless Church and Faith to gain the power to find Levant. She knows what major stocks will get big - she also knows all the market trends like Crypto and NFTs - and knows what to avoid too like Mt. Gox and Enron. And while she's at it, she'll be doing something about that rampant capitalism destroying people's lives thing.

If she can't kill it from the outside (without inciting mass deaths anyway), she could try to do it from the inside instead. No, she doesn't have a plan. She doesn't even know how to run a company, but she can learn.

What better way to gather Faith is to have a whole bunch of people grateful to you for providing a decent livelihood in this world?

Appearance:

[theduckeminence]

So I believe I have decided Piandao’s fate for the Avatar!Pakku au (made some alterations to the au so here we go)

WARNING: This contains references/mentions of pro/stitution, r/ape, and death.

In this au, Piandao is the son of footsoldier Masao of the Fire Nation and an earth nation civilian named Citra.

Masao met Citra in the Gaojing Red Light District within the fire colony of the Hu Xin Provinces. Citra was a low-ranking prostitute in the impoverished parts of the district, hence why Masao was able to afford spending the evening with her.

When Citra found out she was pregnant, she couldn’t afford any sort of medicines or proper remedies in order to rid the child. So she had no choice but to go through with it.

When Piandao was born, his mother decided upon caring for him anyways, hoping that maybe if she can work harder, she can care for both her and her child.

Unfortunately, when Piandao was only 5-6 years old, he found his mother brutally assaulted and dead in her room after spending the evening with one customer. He recalled her yelling, but wasn’t aware that it were yells for help.

Following her passing, he became an obedient, silent ghost—wandering around and accepting any sort of small job offered by pitying House owners. Usually as a very minor Wakaimono or male servant. He rarely ever interacts with the courtesans and mainly cleans.

During his time as a servant, Piandao could only earn just enough to feed and shelter himself, hence constantly working hard everyday. He only wore the baggy uniform given to him by his bosses and the rags he had been wearing since he grew out kg a bundle

He never really interacts with other kids since he had mostly seen girls attending to the courtesans and rarely any boys his age. Either way, most kids found him too quiet or shy to talk to.

He could never speak, no matter how hard he tried, though it wasn’t so much of an issue as long as he does his work and earns his pay. There were a few occasions however some adults would complain about his lack of word (He was nonverbal at the time, but didn’t know).

Piandao admired and loved listening and watching the Geishas play/sing their songs as well as other types of performing arts. He finds that it helps motivate him to do work and appreciate the arts more (a small part of him wished to learn something like that).

At the age of 9, Piandao meets a man by the name of Master Eun-U—a highly regarded swordsman. When upon seeing the young boy work, Eun-U asked the owners if he may have the boy.

The owners, of course, were not too easy on handing their servant over to a stranger (as Eun-U was in disguise). But with a nice sum paid to them, the owners happily sold away their servant boy.

Eun-U brings a confused, yet quiet Piandao home to the small town of Nashikami—which close by to the hidden Herbalist Institute. From here on, Eun-U has Piandao work as his helper/assistance—while allowing him to live within his small, yet comfortable home.

The older man also teaches the boy how to read and write in both western Earth Kingdom Dialect and Fire Nation. This is what later on leads to Piandao to speak out loud.

This is remarkably the first time Piandao had ever fitted into cleaner, more fitting clothing while also eating a hot meal with better quality tea on the side. The boy sobs when he realizes this one night during dinner.

Eventually, at some point, Eun-U decides upon teaching Piandao how to swordfight in case of defense and combat—wanting the boy to reach for that unused potential.

Over time, as Piandao stayed with Eun-U—the older man saw Piandao as both a pupil and a son, whereas the boy viewed the swordsman as a father figure.

[arti-cat]

incinerator au info!

i think i'll edit this as i think of more stuff or just like. reblog but i wanna write down what i have for it so far ! before i forget ( update 31/07: renamed the arsonist to bunsen burner! since i've seen a few named the same and i wanted to avoid any confusion :] there's so many fire-based scugs i love them all ) the incinerator au essentially focuses on the story of a fiery slugcat called bunsen burner, who was created by [golden ochre, longing desires] (aka gold) to assist him in his work. though he didn't care for her much at all, so she left to create her own family, one which she eventually lost due to the rot.

bunsen burner decided that she'd make it her life mission to destroy every last piece of rot. to spare herself and other creatures from that same fate, at a hefty cost. much of the rot came from iterators, so they ultimately ended up as her main target (out of an apathetic malice rather than hatred towards iterators in particular, though she heavily dislikes gold and destroys any overseers' of his that she finds)

i think it would tie together a few smaller plotlines rather than follow one massive plotline? so for example, gold is trying to locate an unknown iterator that sent out a distress signal. around this time, [five pebbles'] structure is heavily damaged and so he *needs* help (whether he likes it or not). and when gold eventually realises that the iterator he's searching for is in a rot-infested region, he needs to figure out how to get to the iterator before bunsen burner does? something like that!

i think another pretty big difference to the standard rain world formula is that. one of the oc iterators, known as for a [dream true, on cloud nine] (nine), is an engineer! a highly skilled individual that knows how to repurpose iterators' puppets in order to let them leave their structures. with high-risk but high-reward stakes; i don't think every semi-local iterator went through with their experiment, such five pebbles, but i like the idea of some of them being able to walk around :] and i think nine helping moon out after her collapse would be sweet.

time-wise i think it takes starts off just a little after the survivor-monk timeline? before rivulets, so the rot within five pebbles' structure isn't as severe, but still a massive threat to his well-being. bunsen burner is an older slugcat, she was small when gold first started his search but left for a long time shortly afterwards

i'm not sure who i entirely want to add but im sure i'll figure it out! i think having my own au versions of the favourite iterators would be cool since i love them so much. + NSH i could easily fit in if i give him some form of rot, given it's already a known and researched topic, and he *was* the one that made hunter. i just want moon to be happy and to be able to gaze at the shoreline properly this time too i think she deserves it

the main canon iterators are probably in one local group while the oc iterators are in their own local group, nearby their region. then there's also the wastelands rather than the shoreline for the oc iterators, where a lot of residue, rot, and general dangerous waste ends up dumped in.

this is a. ramble! but i wanted to get that out there anyway plus. writing it out helps me figure out what i wanna do for the au in my head. reading all of five pebbles and moons' lines and all the broadcasts makes me appreciate the iterators so much more than i already did so i'd love to make use of their communication styles ...

extra information / drabbles:

a bit about upgrades and rivulet

bunsen burner design?

golden ochre, longing desires drawing

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

"Howdy, Lena! What's kicking?"

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "Please don't trouble yourself about me, sweetie. I was just hoping to make a call, but the Whirling's phone line isn't working."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - A faint smile tells you she appreciates the effort, but at the moment her mind is on more serious matters...

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "The Union office probably has a phone, but I can't really get there, or to the phone booth down the coast... And Gary's phone is dead, too..." She sighs.

"Wait, what's wrong with the phone line?"

"Why did you need to use the phone anyway?"

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "The manager was vague about it." She frowns.

INTERFACING [Easy: Success] - Why would he be *vague* about phone problems? This is something to look into later -- ask Garte maybe.

"Why did you need to use the phone, anyway?"

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "To let the young woman who's house-sitting for us know that we may be delayed. Morell, my husband, and Gary were supposed to get back by Monday night, but they're still missing and I haven't heard from them..."

"I was also hoping she'd heard from Morell…" She looks down.

"Okay, I'll bite. Has your husband gone missing before?"

"This sounds more like a side thing. I need to take care of my *main thing* -- then I'll get back to this." [Leave.]

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "That's just it! This isn't like him at all. He always plans his expeditions so carefully..."

“But you have more important things to worry about.” She glances out the window toward the bay.

"What is this *expedition* your husband was on?"

"So your husband is some kind of scientist?"

"Tell me more about Morell. Looks, character, your relationship..."

"That's all for now, ma'am." [Leave.]

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "Just some field work, sweetie. Morell is a highly trained scientist. He and his assistant, Gary, are studying an *extremely rare* species of insect..."

But they should have returned by now. They were just going down the coast, across the water lock, to set a few traps. He said they'd be back on Monday…" She sighs. "What could be keeping them?"

"Wait, who's this 'Gary' person? Do you trust him?"

"Are they in a *rough neighbourhood*?"

"You mentioned traps. Could there be some problem with them?"

"Maybe your husband went off on an adventure?"

LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "Oh, sweetie. It's nothing like that..." She smiles.

"Gary's as loyal as they come. I'd trust him with my husband's life any day."

[thespacelizard]

Hold Your Colour

@fluffbruary day 7 - i've made it a whole week this time! this is going suspiciously well. Anyway, have some more Jarlaxle/Artemis fluff (up on AO3 here)

The wizard was dead. Artemis had already gone through her pockets and turned up nothing of use, though now Jarlaxle had decided to rummage as well, citing the dubiously existent extra-sensory benefits of his eyepatch. Artemis left him to it.

He leaned in the doorway of the ruined tower they’d finally cornered the mage in and stared out at the darkening sky. Tomorrow they’d venture back to town and throw the wizard’s corpse at someone in charge of civic purse strings—no more magical harassment on the roads courtesy of Jarlaxle and Artemis, everybody say thank you very much. It was an interesting feeling, this being vaguely helpful business.

“Hm,” said Jarlaxle. Artemis pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What did you do?”

“I did nothing, it was the wizard.”

Artemis cast a doubtful look over his shoulder. Jarlaxle stood over the dead wizard, holding out the edges of his cloak with an expression of utmost distaste twisting his face. The rainbow sheen of the material was running, the colours blurring into one another, and as Artemis watched, a splatter of colour dripped to the floor, narrowly missing Jarlaxle’s boot.

“Why is it doing that?”

“Because of the wizard, abbil, keep up. Now come and help me get this off before it gets any worse.”

“Take your own clothes off.” Artemis turned back to the grey sky.

“It is melting in my hands, Artemis, I would appreciate your assistance.”

With a heavy sigh, Artemis pushed off from the wall and took his time crossing the few feet to where an increasingly agitated Jarlaxle plucked at his cloak. It was indeed melting—when Artemis tried to pull it off, it clung to his hands like bad dough and, what was worse, left smears of colour on his skin. Grimacing, he dug his fingers in and yanked, and between his tugging and Jarlaxle’s squirming, they managed to get the damn thing off. It hit the ground with a wet slap, splattering a rainbow across the floor and their shins.

Artemis glared at the reds and purples and bright blues coating his hands, the emerald and orange streaks up his forearms. A splash of eye-searing yellow stained his leather cuirass.

“At last we get some colour into your wardrobe,” Jarlaxle said.

“You can have it back.”

Before Jarlaxle could stop him, Artemis snapped his hand out and wiped a palmful of magical colour over the drow’s chest, bare as it was beneath his high-cut vest. Jarlaxle let out a highly undignified yelp he would later deny was a shriek, then darted forwards.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Artemis backed away—not fast enough. Jarlaxle grabbed his face in both hands and smeared his thumbs over Artemis’ cheeks, then dragged his palms down his neck.

“Beautiful, abbil, you make a perfectly lovely canvas.”

Artemis tackled him. He went down with a yell and a drow curse that would have made Lolth blush, and the two of them rolled across the tower floor. The magical stains of colour did not lessen, no matter how many times Artemis swiped his hands over every accessible inch of Jarlaxle’s skin. Quite how they were going to get clean afterwards was a concern for later, however—right now the only thing that mattered to Entreri was getting as much of it on his idiot peacock of a partner as possible.

Jarlaxle gave as good as he got, and by the end of it they were flat on their backs, rainbow-drenched and panting. Artemis suspected he had multi-coloured handprints on his ass; certainly he’d left his own on Jarlaxle’s.

“Truce?” Jarlaxle asked. Artemis glanced over—he was grinning beneath the paint, and there was a great hot pink streak bisecting his face, brow to jaw, right across the eyepatch. Annoyingly, it suited him.

“If I am still covered in this stuff in the morning—” Artemis started. Jarlaxle rolled his eye.

“Yes, yes, knife, uncomfortable places, unimaginable violence upon my person—stop flirting and kiss me already.”

Artemis fervently hoped the colours would fade by morning. The handprints Jarlaxle left him with next would take some explaining, otherwise.

[random-tree]

Re: Among the Imposters: The part I'm talking about is an incredibly minor part of the book. The book itself is the 2nd installment of the "Shadow Children" series, which is about a dystopia where having more than 2 children is highly illegal and the Population Police will hunt down and kill any third children. The PoV character is a 3rd child who's assumed the identity of a dead boy his age so he can go to school. Bc of his limited life experience he doesn't immediately realize that the school is actually not a "normal" boarding school, and most of the attendees have intellectual or developmental disabilities, severe phobias, or are other third children in his same boat. He notices that most of his classmates are "rockers," who don't engage with or seem aware of anything that happens around them or participate in class or socialize at all etc, they just rock back and forth endlessly, staring into space. They're repeatedly described as not seeming like human beings, having empty and soulless eyes like animals, etc and are essentially just used as background props for how "unsettling" the school is supposed to be. At some point another character does eventually bring up and explain how unusual the school actually is, and might in fact refer to the rockers as having autism specifically, or it might just be described as having something wrong with their brains, I don't remember exactly. As far as I can remember, at no point in the story are any of the "rockers" given names, much less any sort of role in the story. All of the main characters are the relatively "normal" third children who are attending school using fake identities, or people whose role in the story is to either assist them or to try and hunt them down.

IIRC, this is the only book in the series that has anything like this. A lot of them, I don't remember super clearly, but I did overall enjoy the books (as well as the rest of Haddix's works) when I was ~8 to 12 years old. They're much more willing to get dark than most books targeted at that age range, with child characters regularly being killed, tortured, imprisoned, etc. and dealing with the psychological and social impacts of having been raised in hiding, which is always something I appreciated as a kid (and still do). They were no Animorphs, but I did like them. Unfortunately the "rockers" in that book still haunt me and fill me with a really deep-seated self-loathing and internalized ableism every time I catch myself stimming, especially rocking or swaying, and so even like 15 years later I'm still unlearning that. Not to say the book is wholly to blame, I'm sure a lot of it came from the rest of society, and if that weren't the *only* depiction of autism in a book I liked, I'm sure it would've done a lot less damage. Sorry if this was wordier than you were interested in!

No worries, I like this sort of in depth discussion.

Anyways, even if it's a minor part I can definitely see how this would mess with someone. To describe a subset of students like that and then toss out the fact they're autistic without bothering to let these students be their own people is not only careless but also incredibly callous. It kinda sounds like the author just saw them as a set piece.

It's seems like a trend in media that involves autistic characters is that they only seem to exist as writing devices rather than as full characters. It brings to mind a book I read in my early teens (I think written by Jaquelin Wilson?, I read a lot of her stuff back then) about a girl with a younger sister that is obviously implied to be autistic (as in the author read the Wikipedia article kinda obvious) that is being drugged up by the nanny to keep her docile, with the entire book is about the older sister trying to convince her parents that her little sister should not be drugged up and about the older sis going through her own troubles (including a romantic subplot that frankly shouldn't exist), rather than showing anything about how the little sister feels about this entire situation??

The little sister is basically just there as a narrative tool so the parents and the older sister have a reason to argue with each other and as a reason for the older sis to hate the nanny.

[watercolorgalore]

Navigating the Perilous Realm of Twyeetaar (Twitter) (Remediating for 280 Characters)

Note: Here we have my submission for the #doodlewashSeptember2022 challenge for Day 28’s prompt “Historic”. This is supposed to be King Richard III at The Battle of Bosworth Field. I made him look brutish but highly skilled to reflect his character from Shakespeare’s play named after him. The scenario in this piece is as if he’s pissed after being thrown off his horse and knowing he’s outnumbered, defiantly stares down Henry Tudor and The Houses of Lancaster before getting cut down by them.

Brief summary of hashtags that related most to my topic of interest and how I went about identifying them

Starting out simple and straightforward by typing in “#watercolor” certainly paid off as it led me to hundreds of posts and pictures related to watercolor. The professional looking ones stood out to me which are those that gives me the impression they are part of a bigger organization outside Twitter so I went for them. That is how I came across the repetitive hashtags of #doodlewash, #WorldWatercolorGroup, and #doodlewashSeptember2022. From there, I browsed through Doodlewash’s website where I was exposed to the long-running monthly challenges which I got to partake in and make content out of it for my tweets.

I also got to learn about the consumerism and commercialization of services offered by official art groups. It was ecstatic to receive personal messages of welcomes from the founder and partners of Doodlewash upon signing up on the website and for joining the World Watercolor Group Facebook page. Even discovering the darker sides of the art community like Jake Parker’s Inktober copyright controversy and the impending artificial intelligence takeovers assisted me in the “Generating Creative Value” task.     

Summary of any responses to my tweets that I composed

Unsurprisingly, I did not receive any immediate comments from any of my tweets and retweets. The only way to know if they even attained the slightest attention would be through the analytics or I could even spend more time and effort by observing it through external social media monitoring tools. Quick calculations of the total impression’s stats are approximately 200 times when taking all 13 of my tweets and retweets into account.

Overall, I only follow 2 accounts - @doodlewash and @LifeImitatesDdl – and have absolutely no followers to my name. I do admit I’m proud of the single like I received from my tweet regarding my drawing of King Richard III for the #doodlewashSeptember2022 challenge and oddly enough, it was the #RichardIII that got me that one like.    

Thoughts on my experience with Twitter this week

I have to say that this is the most active I have been on Twitter in life so far. It appears that I have accumulated 13 tweets and retweets altogether by the time of this assignment’s submission. The most memorable part was first realizing the brutal limitations of handling this very delicate social media platform. I panicked after finding out that you can no longer edit your tweets after five minutes upon posting it. My mistakes include forgetting to add certain hashtags to the post and carelessly providing links without embedding the sources I wanted to attach with. It’s like everyone’s judging me for accidentally exposing my face for a second at a masquerade ball. I figured I simply just had to delete them and redo it several times afterwards. It felt very unprofessional of me to correct such simple things like that. And every time I refresh my pages, more tweets from all around the world keeps pouring in every few seconds. I expect my posts to be in there somewhere, maybe lost and forgotten in the digital pile with the occasional visits probably.

I don’t consider myself tech-savvy and I hardly use Twitter anyways. Despite that, I appreciate the subtle tools like the analytics bar that kept me informed on my tweets’ statistics. It reassures me, knowing that my posts have been seen and that there has been visits to my Tumblr website. Tumblr also has the automatic function of posting simultaneously to other platforms which explains my first three posts from the previous assignment appeared on my Twitter account.

The irritating bit of them all was deciding between “watercolor” or “watercolour” when applying or searching for hashtags. I went with the former since I prefer American English. I knew I should be careful when spelling out hashtags but I also think that too much hashtags in one post ruins its appeal.

[voxxous]

Smitten at Sea (ao3 link)

Words: 1,719

Warnings: Light Stabbing/Injuries/Blood, Swearing/Language, little angsty, sexual tension

Relationships: Izzy x AFAB Reader

M/M, Israel Hands/Reader, Izzy/Reader, AFAB Reader, mentions of Stede/Ed

A/N - first chapter of the fic babes. love ya! enjoy

<3

Chapter One: Welcome Aboard!

“Yeah, of course. I’m sure they’ll welcome you with open arms. Our captain is pretty open-minded.” Oluwande chimed, following with a swift sip of his drink. 

“And if they don’t oblige,” Jim’s knife danced in their hand, whirling over and under each finger, “I’ll ensure they let you on board.” You laughed in response, frantically waving your hand.

The three of you knew each other for years. You'd always lend them a hand without hesitation, and it comforted you knowing it was mutual. All of you owed each other your lives, but no one was counting. You helped Jim with quarrels concerning Jackie, Oluwande picked you up off of your feet when you dug yourself too deep into an expedition, Jim hooked you up with some gender affirming tricks, and volitionally discarded anyone who harmed you, and so forth. Fortunately, you stumbled into them at Jackie’s bar. 

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, but I appreciate it, more than you know,” you assured. A cheery presence illuminated the entrance of the bar. The notoriously posh captain arrived to retrieve his crewmates.

“Ah, and there’s the captain himself,” Oluwande announced, tilting his head. 

“Good evening!” Stede chirped, triumph in his stance. “Oh, and who might you be, young fellow?”

“Y/N, it’s my pleasure,” you beamed, offering your hand. “You’re the Gentleman Pirate, I presume?” He accepted your offer with a handshake.

“In the flesh! And please, the pleasure is mine,” He insisted, following with a lighthearted bow. Bonnet lived up to the rumors of his name. He truly reflected pure, kind energy. Maybe with his benevolent manners, you’d reconsider Olu and Jim’s offer. 

“Your crew tells me you run a nice ship,” you took a swig of your drink and continued. “They speak highly of you, sir.” Stede adjusted his vest and smiled. 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes,” Olu laughed and nodded in affirmation. “You know, Y/N here has been living a life of piracy all on their own.” You glanced at him, puzzled. All on your own? Your endeavors as a pirate certainly weren’t without assistance from your friends. 

“Oh! Wow, that’s incredible,” Stede gawked, “Doesn’t it get lonely?” His question stunned you. 

“Quite a bit actually,” you stammered, blinking in response. 

“We want Y/N on board with us,” Jim said, hugging you closer with a prompt swing of their arm.

“If that’s alright with you, of course, Captain,” Olu chuckled. 

The slam of a wooden door from behind the bar struck the walls, startling the four of you and silencing the room. You imagined your little posse would remain uninvolved, but Jackie wasted no time correcting your thoughts. She called out with a pound to the table.

“I thought I told you motherfucker, you’re banished. What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Bonnet stood there, wide-eyed and struck-dumb. What the hell did he do to piss Jackie off?

“And that’d be my cue to leave, as I’d like to keep my nose. Come along, crew.” You caught Jackie’s mumble as Jim hastily hustled you out of the bar. 

“That fuckin idiot. Should’ve killed him the first time...”

The four of you boarded The Revenge, shockingly unharmed. Stede gifted you a welcoming speech whilst you processed what exactly you’d agreed to. 

“And this is the lovely crew, in its mightiest glory! I’m sure you’ll find your place rather quickly, we were due for a new face anyway. Jim or Oluwande will introduce you, as I’ve got some business to attend to. I’ll be in my quarters shall you find yourself in any trouble.”

You nodded and thanked him.

While the captain ran off to attend to his duties and such, Jim and Oluwande informed the crew of your arrival. You remained quiet, reluctant to open up and socialize, while your two lovely friends did the talking.

“What’re we doin’ with a lady on the crew?” A man you recalled as Wee John, asked. You figured he didn’t mean any harm, but his comment didn’t sting any less. You hoped through hiding your voice, maybe they wouldn’t know.

“Y/N isn’t a lady,” Jim chimed. 

“Ah, alrighty then,” Wee John said, returning to his chores on the ship. You grinned, grateful that he didn’t demand an explanation. 

“Did you have to get your crystals removed?” Frenchie, who you remembered meeting once before, questioned. 

“Oh, I,” You exhaled through your nose in amusement and furrowed your brows. You’d never heard a question like that before. “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“So, what are you then, if not a lady?” asked Black Pete, another curious crewmate. 

“I’m a guy. Or just a friend, if you’d like,” You responded with a smile. Jim wrapped an arm around your back and dragged you away from the interrogations. 

“Alright, alright. Enough with the questions. Let’s go find you a room, huh?”

“Feel free to make yourself at home, then. Just don’t piss off Blackbeard,” Jim advised. Your chest tightened.  

“Blackbeard?”

“Yeah, he captured our ship not too long ago, but he’s infatuated with Stede,” Oluwande chuckled. 

“What's up with you and Blackbeard?” questioned Jim. 

Ordinarily, Jim and Olu knew the ins and outs of your life thoroughly. You’d undeniably hand your life to them, in a heartbeat; but, your conflict with the terror of all seas remained untold to Jim. Due to your solitary and insidious mannerisms, the general population of pirates did not recognize your name. Why would an unsociable pirate, like yourself, have beef with Blackbeard and his crew? You had a hunch that his distaste for you stemmed from his first mate's deep, perpetual loathing. For whatever reason Hands still wished for your death, you were entirely dumbfounded. However, he ensured you hadn't heard the last of it. 

“The usual, you know,” you laughed and scratched your neck. Jim raised their eyebrows, knife in hand. “No worries. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright. We’ll leave you to it, then. Here if you need anything.” You thanked them prior to their leave. You pressed your eyelids gently with a deep sigh. Hands swore he’d have your head the next time you met. If Blackbeard hauled his little obedient pet aboard the ship, who knows what fate would befall you. Hands would undoubtedly fuck you up. Did he still resent you for nearly murdering him? You had no malicious intent. He remained unscathed in the end. 

The steady swash of the waves washed away your woes, enveloping you in a state of peace. You could always rely on the sea to ground you. You closed your eyes and stood up, bracing for the worst. Even if Blackbeard’s first mate tagged along, you formerly bested him at swordplay. You could conceivably defeat him again. 

You opened your door, poised and prepared to explore the rest of The Revenge. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N,” a voice to your left demanded. That motherfucker.

“Israel.” Within moments, he stood at your back.

“Do you remember what I said the last time we met?” He purred under his breath, his arm snaking around your neck from behind you. With the cold steel of his knife threatening your throat, even the thought of swallowing elicited fear within you. His natural scent of sweet smoke, cedar wood, and faint touch of orange wove through the air, emanating from his body. The aroma unleashed a vivid memory of your first encounter with Hands. 

“And what are you going to do about it, Hands? Hmm,” you teased. “Holler for daddy Blackbeard to—“ He growled, increasing the pressure of his weapon against your throat.

“If you let another word fall from that pretty mouth of yours, I won't hesitate to cut you up, right here,” Heat gushed through your face, breath hitched. You abhorred this man, but you couldn’t hide the fervor bubbling up in your stomach. You pressed your thighs together in attempts to conceal your reaction, promptly realizing your actions only exacerbated your condition. 

His keen eye would be your demise. “Oh, what’s this? Have we got a little horny bitch on board?” He spat. He released you, only to turn you around and slam your back against the wall. The crack of the boards ricocheted through the hall. 

His blade fled to your jawline. With a paltry pinch, he drew a drop of blood, eliciting a whimper from your lips. He hummed with a smile. His exhilarated behavior hampered your thoughts. Did you manage to satisfy Hands? First mate, Hands? Last you checked, his muscles could form only a scowl. “It’d be a shame if your fantasies made their way to the crew, wouldn’t it?” He teased, his face so close to yours that his words tickled your skin. 

The rough skin of his thumb lined your jaw, wiping the blood. He kissed the wound and swiftly followed with a fierce grip of your chin. “You will obey my every word, is that clear, boy?” A concoction of detestment and euphoria danced between the two of you, tension thick enough to send the ship plummeting into the depths of the ocean. You contested with a sardonic giggle.

“Take a caulk, twat,” you sneered. He grumbled, spouting out sporadic little noises as he made his leave to the deck. You allowed yourself to breathe, unaware you’d held your breath. In a fit of relief, your arms fell beside you, and you craned your neck back, eyes closed. Defying Hands directly? That was ballsy, even for you. The mere fact that Hands wasn’t tearing you apart for opposing him poked holes in his depraved persona. 

A polite thump at your door interrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N…?” A voice chirped. The door creaked open, revealing Frenchie, a kind gentleman you recalled meeting upon your arrival. 

“Good evening, Frenchie. T’sup?” You quivered, still shaken from your experience with Israel. 

“Cap’n and the crew are having a meeting about our ‘devious plans’ for the upcoming week,” he explained. “And also, chores.”

“Lovely. Um, cool, just…give me a moment, would you? I’ll be right out. Thanks,” you assured. He nodded and took his leave.

An outline for their schemes and piracy, now that’d be new. You often dove head first into your endeavors, bullshitting your way through and hoping to survive. Maybe their approach would be less daunting.