#do not give them your face and payment info are you out of your minds

[what-eats-owls]

I had some thoughts about paying to feed your face into a generator built on unpaid work used without consent. Transcript and links under the cut.

So let’s talk about AI art, and how incredibly unsafe y’all are being with it.

First, most of these apps, including the avatar makers, are developed using a generator called Stable Diffusion that was trained on LAION 5B, a database containing 5 billion pictures scraped off the internet, including illustrations from deviantart and pinterest. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stable_Diffusion#Training_data

It also contains thousands of images of patients scraped from private medical records. And the database creators have refused to remove them or take any responsibility. https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2022/09/artist-finds-private-medical-record-photos-in-popular-ai-training-data-set/ 

Many artists have spoken up about how unethical it is to use their work without their consent to make an art generator that is now being used for paid products. These generators wouldn’t exist without the work of thousands of artists around the world, but they never gave permission for their images to be used this way, they can’t opt out, and they are not getting paid even for apps that charge *you* to use them.

Maybe that’s enough to change your mind about the “magic avatars” and “time travelling portraits.” But I get that they’re fun, and frankly, people will overlook a lot of harm when they’re having fun. Which brings us to the “find out” part of this video.

When you are giving these apps 10-20 pictures of YOUR FACE, where in the terms of service does it say they won’t sell those pictures to police surveillance companies? https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/18/technology/clearview-privacy-facial-recognition.html

When you are giving them your face, where in the TOS does it say they’re responsible if their databases get hacked? If their data is used to impersonate or stalk you? https://thenextweb.com/news/people-using-facial-recognition-app-stalk-adult-actresses 

Where in the TOS does it say your face can’t be used by companies training AI to help genocide? https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-55634388 

Where in the TOS does it say your face will not be sold to a service that will splice you into porn? https://www.technologyreview.com/2021/09/13/1035449/ai-deepfake-app-face-swaps-women-into-porn/ 

That will create an on-demand version of you for strangers to assault? https://vocal.media/viva/why-are-men-creating-ai-girlfriends-only-to-abuse-them-and-brag-about-it-on-reddit 

And you are giving some of them your payment info? You are giving all of them 10-20 pictures of your face? 

They don’t care about the people whose work makes their generators possible. Why do you think they’re going to care about you?

[sankttealeaf]

First of all happy birthday!!!!

Second of all omg I love your writing, and the prompts you just shared.?? Could I request gn Tav and Astarion for the:

⋆ "i'd still know you." Bonus points if it is not ascended Astarion saying this to Tav 👀

Thank you in advance if you choose to write this and have a great birthday!! ❤️

thank you!!! ended up thinking too much about astarion "ah yes i will manipulate tav into doing what i want - oh no i think am in love" baldur'sgate3 too much while writing this. i hope you enjoy it!!<3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"i'd still know you" [prompt list <- send me another!] [ao3]

pairing ; astarion x gender neutral!reader

summary ; Astarion's plan is fool-proof until you come along and start to break it down brick by brick.

other info ; may have gone a little wild with this. a deeper look into astarion and tav's relationship throughout the game and how easily astarion's walls were broken down by them. mainly astarion pov but kind of jumps between tav + astarion thoughts

warnings ; manipulation, astarion backstory, implied sexual content but nothing explicitly mentioned, things get resolved in the end

word count ; 3.2k

“I don't need to know where we begin and end, I'd still know you”

De Selby (Part 2) - Hozier

When he first meets you, Astarion thinks you are a fool.

He despises the way you offer to help anyone in need, no questions asked. It’s even worse when you deny any form of payment for it. He cannot help but allow the frustration to take over each time you get side-tracked. Why now must he meet someone with so much goodness in their heart after he spent centuries suffering? Why must you be so kind?

Your kindness consumes him as he spends his days trying to figure out ways to use it against you. He’ll need help with his own personal goals and it would be oh so easy to exploit how eager you were to help others. He buries you with pretty words and sultry looks and can feel you falling for his trap, hook, line, and sinker. 

You begin to seek him out each morning and night, asking for his opinions on things and listening to everything he has to say. He finds it amusing each time you walk up to him with a list of things to talk about. You even start to offer your own blood to him after the rather unfortunate incident of catching him trying to feed on you. Really, this was too easy. 

Laying with you after the party with the tieflings is only to cement the snare he places around you. It was hunting season and you were the poor deer that fell into his trap. A shame, but it mattered not to him. He gets what he wants and you get to feel useful helping someone. It doesn’t matter what emotions he has to exploit along the way. Each time he feels himself grow distant during the entanglement you brought him back, fingers tracing his skin and pulling him closer. When you feel the harsh lines of his scar and a frown appears on your face, he distracts you with a kiss, any questions melting away in your mind instantly. 

A fool-proof plan, and Astarion is executing it perfectly so far.

As time passes on he starts to find himself waiting for you to approach him in the evenings. He pretends to not care but every time he hears you approach he feels anxiety gnawing in his stomach and if his heart could beat he was certain it would be pounding. He’s managed to memorise the sound of your footfalls whenever you get near his tent, a small thing he assumes is just another step in his plan. That’s what everything was, another box to tick, another thing to cross off. He was remembering things about you to use against you - no other reason.

Recently you have been giving him books you pick up along your travels, claiming you had heard him talking about the lack of “good reading material” to Gale one morning. He stacks each one neatly in his tent, keeping them to himself and refusing to share. You got them for him, after all. He searches his brain for days on ways to repay you for the ever-growing library in his tent and has to stop himself because that is not part of his plan. He isn’t supposed to want to thank you. It’s like you entered his well-defended home and started to disarm all the traps aimed at you. You broke down the walls with such care, placing the bricks to the side to rebuild into something else. He can’t stop you from doing so, no matter how hard he tries. 

With each kind gesture he notices more about you. The way you laugh loudly at camp with the others or how you make each person you speak to feel like they are the most important person in the world. He yearns to speak to you, to get his share of loot or hear a funny story from your day. He wants you around him and it confuses him. Your kindness is infectious and Astarion begins to feel like a fever is brewing inside him. He needs to sweat it out yet the only thing he finds craving for is you. Always you.

Why must it be you?

He hears you approach before he looks up from his book, already throwing a suggestive comment your way to see your cheeks flush and your eyes dart around nervously. You ask if he’s doing alright and Astarion decides that this is the perfect time to be vulnerable with you. He wants to know if his plan was working, if you truly would do anything for him. You listen carefully with bated breath as he lays out his backstory to you, how he wants revenge on his master for all the years of torture and torment he was put through. Even though he had been hoping for it, he’s still shocked when you tell him you will help him get his vengeance in any way possible.

Of course you would help him. He has been betting on your kindness all this time, it’s why he chose you to begin with. Yet as you walk away he cannot help but feel seen for the first time in years. You want to help him. You are willing to put your life on the line to help him. He swallows down a bubble of guilt and ignores how sick he is feeling. Any more of this and he was certain he would perish.

For the next few days you talk to him first. Every morning and every evening you would check in and at first he waits for you to take back your offer to kill Cazador with him, but you never do. The only time he spots that you have doubts is when he mentions how he should be the one to ascend, not his master. He should have the power, right? It’s only fair after all. When you tell him that you didn't think that was a good idea, he’s caught off guard. Power is what he always wanted and you are refusing to help him? The conversation ends with a bitter taste in his mouth and you walking away from him. He wants to reach out for you but he can’t. 

It’s fine, he tells himself. With enough convincing, you will support his need for ascension. You had to. He wants you by his side, after all. 

There’s a lack of conversations with you going forward from that point, the whole talk of becoming a powerful vampire lord being something you weren’t entirely wanting to help Astarion go through with. You mention how he’s just continuing the cycle of abuse, that he’ll be as trapped as Cazador is, but you aren’t sure if Astarion is even listening to you. So, you decided it was best to give him space and let him come to that conclusion by himself. And if he doesn’t? Well, you suppose there will be two vampires you’ll have to kill in the future.

Even if you aren’t talking, you still look out for him when you find yourself in combat. A gentle touch of his arm as you move around him to flank an enemy, throwing your last potion of healing his way, finding high ground for him to run to for a better advantage. You seek him out at the end of the fight to check he wasn’t too badly injured and he notices you only give cursory glances at the others. When you’re happy he isn’t too hurt, you give a gentle squeeze of his arm before going to rummage through the dead bodies for loot. The warmth from your hand lingers on his arm long after you are gone and he finds himself holding the area, watching as you call over Lae’zel to show her some new weapons that could be of use. Still, after killing enemies, you treat everyone with kindness. 

The walls around him are fully gone now and he can’t help but wait for you to come back to him again. Perhaps the traps in his metaphorical house aren’t there to keep anyone out, but to keep him in.

You begin to talk to him again, dancing around the topic of Cazador and his plans for taking his master’s place like a deadly waltz. The closer you get to Baldur’s Gate the more Astarion’s plans weigh heavily in the air. Your uncertainty that it is the best option begins to rub off on him and one night he finds himself doubting that this is really what he wants. Of course it was, he wants the power and the control. But that meant losing you - you made your stance clear one day as you travelled, catching him in conversation to tell him you would not be by his side if he chose to complete the ritual himself. You walked away before he could question you further.

Your opinion is ruining him. It’s wrecking everything in his mind and leaving him stranded on an island he isn’t sure he wants to be on anymore. His plan made sense when he could picture you by his side, probably not as an equal - he didn't want to worry about another vampire fighting for his rule over the city, after all, but maybe as a loyal spawn. You are already so loyal to everyone, it would be like nothing changed! But everything will change. You are in his head. He wishes he had never picked you to be the target of this plan. How could he be so foolish? Of course your kindness wouldn't allow him to grow in power. You are too, too kind. 

Astarion thinks himself a fool.

Defeating Cazador is a brutal task that he has only ever dreamed of seeing to completion. He stands at a crossroads now, knowing he could easily complete the ritual for himself and ascend to the god-like power that Cazador wanted. It would be so easy to do so, yet he looks back at where you stand with the others and something in him breaks. Something in him snaps and it feels like all those traps he set up around him suddenly went off with him in the middle of it. It’s cathartic, with each plunge of the dagger into his master’s chest Astarion feels like this is what he deserves. Over and over again he settles into this weird mixture of grief and anger and allows himself to have his moment of complete power over Cazador. It’s not the ascension he wants, but the one he deserves.

You watch from the sidelines as he allows his anger to consume him, Cazador lying limp in front of him as he repeats the motion of getting his vengeance. You turn your head away to let him have this moment to himself.

He’s distant that night. His plans are complete and there’s nothing left for him to worry about except removing the parasite. He’ll return to the life of shadows and can only hope you would still want to be around him when all is said and done. No matter how badly the outcome of this drags him down he still can’t bring himself to be angry at you for causing him to doubt it. Frustrated or annoyed, maybe, but never angry. 

So when he can’t find you at camp, he starts to worry.

Gale calls for everyone to grab some food and Astarion does not see you approach the fire. He does not see you sitting with anyone else, nor does he see you giving affection to the various animals you refused to leave behind. There’s no sound of your laughter or gentle touch from behind as you walk by him, no hint of you anywhere. It’s not hard to slip away from the group as he begins to do a loop around the outskirts of camp to try and find where you are. Concern rattles his bones as he wonders if something happened, if he would stumble across your dead body or worse - you decided to leave. 

His anxieties are eased when he finds you sitting a few minutes away from camp on a fallen tree, your back to him. There’s no need to spook you so he purposefully steps on an old branch, breaking it to gain your attention. You turn quickly, hand coming up to ready yourself if there was a fight. With a sigh, you relax once you see him approach.

“Hello,” you say quietly, shuffling over to give Astarion room to sit beside you, if he wants.

“You’re not at camp?” It’s a stupid question but it’s the only thing he could think to say. There is so much he wants to tell you but finding the right words is proving difficult.

You laugh, and Gods he has missed hearing it. It’s such a simple sound but he is certain it was better than any healing from a bottle or Shadowheart. If he could make you laugh forever he would do so, if you only gave him the chance to. He takes a seat next to you, the cool evening air whipping around you both. Astarion sees you frown as you look down at your feet, hands fidgeting nervously. Despite himself, he reaches out to hold them still.

Looking up at him, you take a deep breath as you prepare for what you want to ask him. “You didn't go through with the ritual?” you ask, even though you were there to witness it. You saw him kill Cazador and give up the power with each stab he carved into the vampire lord and had no idea what made him have a change of heart at the last minute.

Astarion shrugs, wanting to blow it off like it didn't bother him at all, but it did. It really did. 

“It was you.” The words sound threatening as he speaks and he winces as your eyes grow wide, worry spreading across your face that he was here to get revenge on you interfering. 

“Astarion, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to ruin it,” you say quickly, moving your hands away from him and slinking back to put some distance between you both.

The way you move away from him in fear hurts him as he retreats back in on himself. Maybe he should have taken the power, that way you would have something to fear about him-- No. No. He refuses to think like that. Not at you. Never at you.

“What I meant is that you were the one to put the doubts into my head about the ritual,” he corrects himself and you are confused. Still, he continues. “You kept saying things that weren’t aligning with my plan and I thought-”

You interrupt him. “Plan?” 

Maybe it is time to come clean. “I had a plan. Manipulate you, say and do whatever you wanted me to so that you would help me with Cazador. You’re so kind and compassionate I knew it wouldn't take me long to get you hooked on me.” He can’t stand to see the look on your face as he explains himself. “And yet I found myself wanting you more than I planned for…”

His words fade out as you begin to realise how foolish you had been to believe anything he told you was truthful. He’s pacing in front of you now, explaining how this all fell apart because of you and it feels as if he should be blaming you, but he never does. You wait for the accusatory points and looks that never come.

“So you used me?” you ask once he stops speaking, out of breath from how quickly he threw that at you and looking at you in a way you can only describe as sad. 

He runs his hands through his hair in defeat, shoulders slumping and hands falling to his side. “Yes. At the start I used you. But things changed! You changed! You changed me!” He’s certain he’s not making any sense but carries on regardless. The floodgates of whatever feelings he’s been repressing have opened and he was going to drown in them if you didn't give him a hand to pull him out. “It’s you! It’s always been you. Even if I ascended it would still be you I searched for. You have ruined me, and yet I can’t help but want you to see me, to look at me, to simply exist in the space around me!”

“That’s what the Gods made me for, right? To ruin you?” You look at him with a smile as he stops in his ranting.

He’s confused, giving you a frown as the words hit him like a spray of water in the face. “Are you quoting me?”

You shrug. “It’s a good line. Even if you didn't mean it.” Your voice has a hint of sadness to it and Astarion knows if he throws any other sweet line at you you wouldn't believe him. He says your name softly like it’s the first time he’s ever said it and you look at him, conflicted at how you should feel right now. 

“I mean it now. My plan was perfect until you started showing me actual kindness…” He sits back down, hands in his head. “How was I supposed to revel in power if you aren’t by my side? How was I supposed to live knowing you hated me?”

“I don’t think I could ever fully hate you,” you admit, giving his shoulder a small nudge. “Though I was fully prepared to kill you if you got too power hungry.”

“It would be an honour to be killed by you,” he replies, hand brushing against yours. He wants to hold you close, promise you that everything he says from now on was the truth but he wasn’t sure you would believe it. “I do regret what I did, you know. At first I didn't care what happened but then…”

“Then you started to care.”

It’s the truth yet Astarion feels so exposed when you say it. He cannot place when he started to care about you beyond his plan but he knows that he does. And he accepts it, here and now. He accepts that this is the ending fate has given him and wishes for you to hold his hand as you progress into the next chapter of life. 

“You made me feel happy. You have no idea how long it has been since I was truly happy.” It’s like a weight is lifted from his shoulders as he reveals this to you. All those long days of mentally keeping himself in check and in line with what he was planning and now it is crumbling away. “I will gladly take the rest of my life in the shadows if it means I get to hold you in the morning. No matter what happens next, I’d still know you. And that’s all I care about right now.”

You pull him into a hug, arms tightly wrapped around him and keeping him close. He melts into your touch and is relieved that you haven’t pushed him away. Because after all this, he still knows you, and you are so very kind towards him. Even when he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it.

Astarion is foolish for believing your kindness wouldn't be his downfall. He’s a fool for you.

[rosesnbooks]

Astrology readings

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Looking forward to hearing from you!❤️

©rosesnbooks

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I want to make a petition for jason todd with a reader who basically has a personality and background of yui komori, that is, she is super kind, sensitive, shy and who went through a very traumatic situation related to kidnapping and abuse and who because of that she is very scared and has post traumatic stress disorder, i hope it's not so dark for you and i don't want you to write this if you don't want to.

⚠️ I don’t believe I accurately depicted PTSD in this…like at all, most of my info on it came from the NHS website on PTSD. So please take this depiction with a pinch of salt.⚠️

Jason has a body littered with scars, wether it be the ones on his body, his heart or his mind. Scars that could turn anyone away and despite knowing that he has the ability to push you away whenever he wanted, to offer you an opening to leave when things started getting serious, he never could when you held his face in your hands and looking at him with those worried eyes of yours; Looking through him and into his soul as though he was anything but a broken man.

Jason becomes soft, sweet and overbearingly domestic when he’s with you because all he wants for you in your relationship was the best treatment, for to him, you were the most precious thing to have ever walked into his life and he never wants to take advantage of that. To Jason, to take advantage of a good thing were a bastard move and those who did that sort of thing weren’t worth their salt nor worth their partners time nor love.

There were days where Jason would stop reading and instead watch what you were doing from the corner of his eye, smiling to himself as he vowed to himself to never let moments like these slip from his fingers, to never let you slip from his fingers and protect you to the best of his abilities.

Jason would be willing to do anything you wished/desired, he believes that if he were to find some interest in your hobbies, he’d find all the more things to share with you and receive in return. It’s his most favourite thing in your relationship, when you share things and in return learn even more things from the other.

Jason has always been taken aback by everything you did for him and even though you knew he could do them himself but you always insisted that you could help him as payment for everything he’s done for you in return and how you felt helpless and or useless for standing on the side lines whilst he patches himself up from his nightly vigilante activities.

He’d always tell you that it wasn’t your responsibility to clean up after him but whenever he’d come home, nursing a couple more bruises and cuts then usual, you were already out of your shared room with the first aid kit with a determined look on your face as you tell him to sit on the nearest flat surface as you disinfect his wounds and ice his bruises.

Meanwhile Jason would stare at you adoringly, only snapping out from his stupor when you tended to a particularly nasty would on his side causing him to hiss out a harsh ‘fuck.’ Causing you to drop everything in order to apologise profusely for causing him more harm and it wasn’t until then that Jason clocked how you became rigid and on the defensive within the blink of an eye; all the while with a frightened look upon your face and how you’d made yourself look small compared to him as though you were trying to show that you were of not threat to him.

Jason took this sudden moment of realisation to recall the moments where his aggression would slip out accidentally and how you’d react by way of flinching, backing yourself into a corner, your breath hitching in your throat, avoidant eye contact or straight up apologising for things you had nothing to do with whatsoever.

Originally he was pissed that you had past experiences of what he assumed were abusive and or manipulative relationships but was quick to realise that by giving into his anger would only make you more hesitant in opening up to him about your past, your problems and might even cause a crack in your relationship.

So he calmed himself down through some deep breathing, clearing away his mind of some violent thoughts aimed towards the people that had dared in laying their hands on you with harmful and the most vile of intentions; before looking over at your scared form with soft eyes and said; ‘you should never be made to apologise for things that aren’t your fault or doing, sweetheart. You just caught me by surprise is all, we’re alright, we’re okay.’

‘You. did. nothing. wrong.’ He states firmly but what broke his heart even further was your soft response of ‘okay.’

The next time something similar happened was when you began experiencing nightmares of your time being a sacrificial lamb for a household of vampires, stuck in the middle of nowhere. You honestly thought you were going to die there with how often they fed off you that you still got the scars from every place that they’ve ever fed from.

sometimes you’d have moments where it was as though you were stuck in that household again, experiencing the piercing of fangs digging your skin again and again, and again, and again, and they’d always occur in the parts of your body where you’ve been bitten before, one, twice, even multiple times. You would even remember the feeling sensation of lightheadedness from how ‘carried away’ they’d get during their feeds.

It didn’t matter whether or not they needed to feed on you as often as they did but it wasn’t like there was anything you could’ve done to defend yourself. You were a human going up against the supernatural, you were fated to loose that fight real fast and you didn’t wish to think of what could’ve happened has you died trying; you wondered even less about what they’d do to your body afterwards.

you reframed from looking at them when you got changed for bed or went into a shower. Hell you barely looked into any reflective surface in fear of your eyes drifting towards the fang marks that littered your neck and be transported back to that hellhole.

One night, it had gotten so bad to the point where you couldn’t bring your self to going back to sleep and seek a safe haven within the kitchen, where you helped yourself to liquid magic in the form of tea/coffee; Focusing on the taste and the way it goes done your throat more so then anything but also being hyper aware of your situation, going so far as to bring down with you a metal bat that Jason got for you.

Not those aluminium ones that bent after a couple of hits, but bats mad out of proper strong stuff that would do more damage to the recipient of the blows, rather then the bat itself.

So when Jason awoke to you not being in bed, he’s immediately presuming the worst has happened and is quick to act by flying down the stairs, but back in the kitchen the frantic sound of feet clambering down the stairs had you already on your feet, bat in hand as you readied to defend yourself.

‘Woah! Sweetheart! It’s me!’ Jason would say, hands in the air when he noted the bat in your hand. ‘Nightmare?’ He’d ask, having been in your place a fair share of times. So if there was anyone to note the signs, it was Jason. ‘Yeah.’ You said weakly, still gripping the bat despite feeling better knowing that it was only Jason. Your body however was still very much coming down from acting upon your inbuilt fight or flight instincts.

‘Mind if I join you?’ He then asked, gesturing to the space next to you.

‘Please.’ Was all you said.

‘Okay.’ With that Jason made himself a strong coffee and stood on the other side of the kitchen as to give you space but he could tell you appreciated him not delving deeper into it and he couldn’t blame you, the trauma of the past never truly goes away and it’s never an easy topic for one person to tackle on their own.

Right now you can both attempt in catching up on those shows you’ve been meaning to catch up on tougher.

[winterwump]

Hii ? Could you do some gun x reader x goo nsfw pls ? I love them sm 💞💞

💦Good Things Cum in 3’s💦

Summary: For this fic, you my dear reader, are a luxury escort. Like you are expansive so of course these two pay for a night with you. Oh, and your sex worker name is Kitty in this!

Note: Heads up, this is a long one. 1,600 words long to be exact. I’m aware of this lol. I just have a lot to say when writing these two.

Au: I hope you guys enjoy thissss🤍🤍🤍

*Ting!!!*

A familiar chime came from your phone. For a Friday night, it was rather slow for you so you decided to stay home and lounge, it's not like anyone would request you now. Initially, you paid no mind to the chime of your phone because you were too busy watching some brain-melting variety show, but after a good two minutes of ignoring the chime, a call came through. It was from a private number which indicated that this was a client.

“Fuck!!”, you gasped half-annoyed-half-surprised. Time to put on your *business* voice: “Hello~ you’ve reached Kitty, how can I help you?~”

“Now you pick up?” - the voice on the line sighed - “Whatever, are your services available tonight?”

You chose to ignore that hint of attitude - “Of course my sources are available!! How many people am I servicing?” - You said the last part through lightly-gritted teeth. The noise in the background sounded like at least 5 people.

“Just two. Is $20,000 okay for the whole night?” - His tone, though inquisitive, still had an air of confidence to it.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sheer weight of that number because even though you get paid quite a lot doing this job, you’ve never seen anything over $1,000 in one night. Oh yea, this man had money for sure. Realizing that you hadn’t given him a response yet, you begin to fumble over yourself to get a response to such a good offer. After running through your apartment looking for something to write info down on you finally managed an answer:

“$20,000?!?! Tha-that's more than good, Sir. Just give me the details and I’ll be ov-” - As soon as you clicked your pen to begin writing, the man cut you off.

“No need for that. I’ll send someone to pick you up from your place. I don’t want you on the subway at night.”

In your time as an escort, you’ve never been above driving to see clients or taking the metro, so long as the money was good. But sending a driver? Oh, that was classy. Now that you’ve picked your jaw off the floor, you finally spoke again:

“What a gentleman!! Let me give you my info, and I’ll be ready soon. We can discuss payment in person.” 

“Sounds good to me” - The man on the line affirmed, he sounded amused already.

After the quick exchange of info on your part, and the exchange of names, you hung up and began primping yourself for the night ahead of you. The look you chose had a simple yet sultry kind of vibe in both makeup and clothing. This kind of look was your go-to for very good reason, it attracts many high-paying customers clearly. In an act of serendipity, the second you were done getting ready, the ride sent for you had arrived. And yea, this was the real deal alright.

He’d sent a black Rolls Royce Phantom with tinted windows, it was perfect for sneaking around in the dead of night. The stoned-faced driver helped you in and the ride had commenced. The drive itself wasn't long but God did it feel like it. What with your nerves and all. $20,000?! That was all your mind kept repeating. That was an absurd amount of money to drop on a single escort for a single night!! Your mind couldn’t help but want into unsavory places: ‘What exactly would they make you do? Are they gonna…hurt you?’

Before your mind could fully expound on that horrid line of thought, the driver had opened your door and motioned politely for you to get out. Still frazzled, you took the driver’s held-out hand and got to your feet. The flawless steel building before you made you gulp in shaky anticipation. After thanking the driver appropriately, you made your way to your destination

And getting up there really didn’t take as much time as you thought it was. The pre-work jitters always hit you, but this time was different. With a sigh and your money-making smile plastered on your face, you began to ring the doorbell. The man on the phone said his name was Gun, but this clearly wasn’t him. The man that greeted you at the door was a blonde in one of those hard-on-the-eyes golden Versace robes, he grinned:

"Well hello there. Are you Kitty?" - Despite being obviously tipsy, his voice was smooth.

So you were at the right place. - "That’s me!! You’re not Gun, are you?"- Being the performer you are, you matched his tone.

With a hearty laugh, the blonde let you in and tailed behind you as you made your way to the foyer. "Nope!!, Gun's right there." - He pointed at the lounging on the sectional couch - "I'm Goo."

Looking back and forth between the two men, you knew you were in for a trip tonight. 

The three of you wasted little time no in getting the party started after a few drinks. With your head already spinning from the liquor, you found yourself laid out on the soft expanse of the bed with Gun's head between your already shaking legs, and Goo at your side lining your bare neck in hickies and kisses. You went back and forth between whining softly, and moaning wildly as waves of pleasure washed over you when Gun pressed his tongue into the tight heat of your pussy.

Seeming to want attention on him, Goo got what he wanted when he whispered in your ear: "You should put that pretty mouth to use and suck me off, Babe."

His voice sent a shiver down your spine and after giving Goo a demure nod, you were presented with a mouth-wateringly erect cock. You hungrily eyed the length in front of you and felt your well-tended-to pussy throbbed. Goo rest a hand on your head and guided your lips to his blushed tip, and watched as you began to work your mouth around his length. The initial heat of your tongue drew out a breathy moan from the blonde, he gripped your hair and it made your pussy throb even more.

Feeling just how wanton your pussy was, Gun gave your clit one last languid lick before pulling away to tend to his own erection. You had no time to protest the loss of his tongue, because he replaced it with the even more pleasurable sensation of his cock rubbing along your rosy folds. The way you moaned around Goo's cock in response to Gun's teasing was downright sinful, and it wasn’t lost on either of them that you were getting close to cumming already. This was clearly their plan, and you were all for it.

"Go ahead and cum, Baby, we’re just getting started" - Goo cooed affectionately, giving you a little 'boop' on the nose before shoving his cock further down your throat.

From looking up at Goo, you let your mind wander to Gun as he massaged the tip of his cock at your leaking entrance. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would sound while deep in pleasure, he'd been quiet so far and you just needed to know what he was like unravelled. Right as your jaw was beginning to slack from taking Goo's impressive length, you felt your inner walls be invaded in the best way possible by Gun's cock. The intrusion was a welcome one, as he let out a guttural moan upon feeling your tightness.

The way you kept moaning served well in turning Goo on even more. The blond was sure that he was going to cum soon if this kept up, so he grabbed your hair and began to use your throat. You were drooling at this point, but it seemed like Goo loved the wet noises that accompanied your throat being fucked. 

"Come on baby, I you can take it!" - Goo encouraged amidst your gagging.

Seeming to be on the wavelength as the blonde, Gun took on a brutal pace- holding your hips till while pounding your obscenely wet pussy. Between your throat being thoroughly fucked by Goo and the punishing thrusts from Gun, you were starting to get overstimulated. But it was welcomed in this case because you were cumming in quick succession without the two men giving you so much as a break in between your dramatic orgasms. The first orgasm of the night, aside from your own, was from Gun when he had broken his rough tempo to pull out of your now gaping entrance and painted both your back and ass with his cum. His moans were heavenly, and it seemed like Goo agreed because you heard a moan leave his mouth in reaction. Did they ever?...

You heard them laugh amongst each other when they switched positions, your body was somehow loose and noodley but your pussy remained tight for them. And through your lust-filled haze, you found yourself laughing at the contrast too. From riding Goo till you squirted on his stomach to Gun covering you in hickies during missionary, you were still needy for more. You had no concept of how much time has passed, everything that wasn’t the two men had melted into obscurity. It was safe to say that you were thoroughly fucked-out for the night.

This was the best $20k you've ever made.

Damn, 1,600 words!! Sheesh, I hope ya'll enjoyed this cuz I sure did.

The place I had in mind for Gun and Goo's penthouse was JiPyung's house from the Kdrama "Start-Up". Cuz I just know that those idiots live together😏

BYE!!!

[misc-obeyme]

it's way too early in the morning but I got dropped off early for work 😭 so I'm gonna write ajsjdj

yes I'm glad you noticed about Solomon and Mammon !! He started doing it impulsively. And then sometimes if it has a specific time like "have to stop by bank after work" Solomon will text him back "stopped by the bank yet? :]" It's so cute.

Okay but he DOES find out what seat I got. I very excitedly end up yapping about it, but not before Mammon texts Lucifer the info. Also I'd like to think there's at least one night before the concert that Mammon invites both of them over and they help me make bracelets. I have to write out the phrases, but they can put them together just fine. It's usually just song title acronyms or short lyrics.

And then the day before the concert 👀 Belphie and Beel end up in town. I think they skipped the concert right before my show to get there early and rest, but the day before the concert, they go visit Mammon.

I think I said Beel does casual mukbangs? Levi can't believe he doesn't have a consistent upload schedule but Beel is just having fun. He interacts online when he doesn't have content to post. But him and Belphie coming to the shop to annoy Mammon- I mean visit their dear big brother - Yeahhh... askdkj

Unknown to Mammon, I occasionally watch Levi's streams, but that means I also got into Beel's content because like ?? He's such a sweetheart. How could I not? Yet they've never been brought up by Mammon by name, so no one's connected the dots.

Beel and Belphie sitting on the bar stools usually taken by Solomon and I, and Mammon is kinda annoyed because those seats are taken in his mind. But Beel is happily munching, and Belphie is asking if there's anything to do in the city since they have the whole day free (Mammon tells him to go bug Satan).

I'm debating if Solomon comes in during this. Cue Mammon getting slightly flustered, taking payment without fussing today ONLY because his brothers are there and he can't have them knowing he gives stuff out for free.

(THERE'S PEOPLE IN THE BREAK ROOM WITH ME 😭 I'VE GOT MORE TO WRITE)

I think I also come in, running late because I stayed up making bracelets. "Hi Mammon, here you go, can't talk, already have people asking if they can pick up their records today, thank you, bye!" Cue Mammon getting flustered again and having a cute smile on his face, only for Belphie to start snickering at him.

Also, see, if I don't recognize the person, I will avoid eye contact so hard. I will stare at the ground, at least in public. At the shop I'm better about it.

I feel like Belphie would catch a glimpse of my bracelets, and since he's already been to a few shows, he recognizes some songs/the color scheme. Actually, he's probably into the band too 🤓 He's definitely a pre-hiatus guy

But hearing the word 'record' gets him interested, and he's asking Mammon what I was talking about. If there's a record shop nearby. And Mammon is reluctant to tell him because he doesn't need his brothers going and bothering me.

Unfortunately Beel's research for restaurants when visiting a city also include scoping out things for Belphie when possible. So he definitely knows about the record shop. He was gonna take Belphie there after. Pipes up with the name and everything.

OKAY I NEED TO CLOCK IN 😭 EVERYONE WAS TALKING TO ME AND I WAS LIKE o(-( Because I was writing this. I'll probably write more after work or something. Maybe. Hopefully.

OH YEAH, LOL YOU KNOW MY NAME(S). I added Star on there bc a mutual used starry to refer to me and i was like 🥺 BUT MY MC'S NAME IS PAULA LOLOL

AJSJD OKAY BYE

- ✨

NAME REVEAL.

Okay but for yourself do you have a preference? Would you like me to call you Star or Lupe? I'm good either way of course~

But I love Paula!!!

I love Solomon so much, he's just happy to be Mammon's text reminder buddy~

Okay, and yes I do remember Beel doing mukbangs and I have to say that I LOVE that for him~ I'd watch them for sure lol.

I love them sitting in your usual seats and Belphie kinda clocking on to what's happening! That guy may be lazy, but he's smart!

OMG so are Beel and Belphie gonna visit the record shop???

Ohhh I hate when someone tries to talk to me when I'm working on something like yes hello but please leave me alone lol.

[ladythornofrivia]

Cigarette Girl

Pair: Rindou x Reader

Warning: Mature Content and Adultery. If you’re under 18, I’m sorry, you can’t read this

Author’s Note: I didn’t get to do my permit test. So I’ll be doing it next month, which means I have more time to gain knowledge on it, which is great! More knowledge more confidence, right?! I'm still doing my best on writing the story. Rindou and Reader are going to meet soon. (Note: Report if someone decides to steal the synopsis and my story. And notify me. Thank you) ❤️

Chapter 1: Grenade In Her Hands

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Anyone who goes nearby the doors or halls knows exactly what's going on. As long as they're far away--out of sight, out of mind, as people say--no one will suspect a thing.

"You're fired," the employer said, pounding his desk with his palm after ending an ugly phone call from one of your boss's regular customers. "Do you know how badly you fucked up, (y/n)? Very bad. I lost one of my favorite customers because of your half-ass job!"

"What? What do you mean I'm fired?!" you said, hands shaking frantically, yet tight grip onto her boss's desk. "Yui demanded me to take over her shift; she didn't give me enough info to handle all the process--I was doing the best I could to find help, but everyone kept saying that they're "sick"."

"Fuck me, (y/n)," your boss said, groaning in anger. "Because of your half-ass job, now every single one of the new customers aren't coming in! We had to close the store in early."

"I did my job as best as I could," you interjected. "I'm always here on time, I always take their stead. Besides, talk your employees about this--they're the ones who don't want to do the job."

"Let's see--you're constantly late, you didn't follow the rules--always fucking around. And you talk back to me, your humble manager? You got a job because of me. Your hours of fucking around have been saved because of me. And now you're going to victim blame me? I'm the only one who saves your ass."

You shook your head at his ignorance. "For the record, I didn't fuck around; those "admirable" people you favor we're the ones who fuck around. They didn't do shit when I have to cover all their shifts. They don't want to do the fucking job; they want to do the bare minimum and get paid quickly."

Your boss flicked his wrist in a dismissal and hissed between his clenched teeth. "Oh, please, (y/n), you always like to play victim--a fucking damsel-in-distress. This is real world, not a fucking high school, for fuck's sake!"

"It's true, though," you fired back. "They threatened me over the text saying that if I don't do the shift, they'll sue me."

Your boss raised his finger at you. "I don't want to hear anymore of your lies, (y/n). Go pack your things. They're in the right to sue you however they want. I don't give a fuck what happens to you. If you want to screw around, go apply to prostitution. You deserve it, you fucking pig. Go be a pig somewhere else. I have nothing else to say to you. And if I ever see you again, beating your ass is the only payment you only ever going to get from me."

Clenching your fists, your mind urged you to try to find a cup of hot coffee to splash on his face, wanting him to go blind for not taking you seriously.

But by the end, you don't want to prove them right. You just want to live in a good life with a stable job of any kind to provide for your sick parent. Your brother, however, being a pathetic adult he was--and still is--you wish nothing more but to live in a better house in a better environment with your mom, hoping she'd get better, that she can rely on you and support you unlike your sibling, whose supposed to be the one in charge. Leave his sorry ass out to whoever is going to take care of him.

With a gritted smile, you took off your apron and threw it at his face, hearing a panicked muffled sound from him as he fell off the ground with stacked boxes fell atop of him. Those heavy, stupid boxes you kept seeing every time you have a meeting with the employer has now became your ally, wishing those boxes were a little heavier than your boss's personal insults.

"Fuck you and your stupid ass, pervert, just because you didn't get good tits and cunt from me. Maybe you should be in the adult industry instead to get your annoying frustrations out. I won't expect a payment from you, stupid bastard,” you said, gathering your things at your locker to put in a box and walk out from the building to call a cab.

Dialing your old phone to relay a message to your sickly mother, someone tapped your shoulder. It's your co-worker, Aimi, with a smile on her face.

You didn't smile back, still carrying the box.

"Sorry about him and everyone else," Aimi said. "You don't deserve it." Aimi picked in her pocket and gave you a good amount of cash around ¥500,000.

You found yourself gasping. "Where did you get that?"

"I stole it from every single one of the co-worker's wallet."

"Put it back; I don't want to get blamed at. They'll sue me," you said, shoving the money back towards Aimi. "You're going to sell me out if they find you."

"Because you helped me last time, I have no other way to pay you back. You've been helpful to me, even when I'm sick or taking a day off. And the boss hasn't paid you for more than a week. You deserve to have a good payment before you leave. Besides, I'm planning on quitting, too. I have no intentions on telling them about you."

"Good luck," you said with a stiff smile by the time the taxi arrive at the side of the street.

"You, too." Aimi watched you mounted inside the cab and waved a goodbye at you as the taxi took off.

*~~*~~*

Your brother wasn't there as you reached home. You paid enough money for the taxi. At this rate, you’re thinking about a better transportation, a better and faster travel in order to save a lot of money and time.

A dreaded silence fills you every time you got home from work. A never joyful silence. It's always haunting, making you to expecting things for the worse--a real life horror movie.

Checking your phone, you expect a call from your relatives. You got none; everyone in the family want nothing to do with you; you often ask if someone in the family can take care of your sick mother in case something bad happens; your mother is too weak to travel to the hospital, so you try to find your ways as best as you could. Always making pathetic excuses about how 'Time takes up on their work' or other relations to work. Of course they didn't want your reason to be voiced out. They never wanted to hear what you're up to, what your family is up to, because whenever you call, it's always the words, “Mom needs help; she's sick, I can’t drive: I need your help to take care of Mom. Take her to the hospital. I don’t want her to go.”

When you asked your brother to help, he told to you to “fuck off”.

And none of them took it well. When you try to contact your mom’s friends, they never picked up your message, your voicemail. Everyone is enjoying their vacation and their retirement. Your mom’s friends are weird.

Funny how they always wanted help from your mother. But whenever your mother needed help, that's where they're up and gone without a second thought. What good is family and friends are for if they don't help but to stab you in the back as a gratitude in return and always making lame excuses at every chance they get the moment you speak up?

You did everything you can to support yourself. The house you're living in was quite ordinary, yet empty. Every single decoration is there, but the presence of joy and company was always lacking, and is often lacking. You try to redecorate it a few times, thinking about anything to make a soothing ambience to match the atmosphere, but nothing matches compare to what you have in mind. You ran out of alternatives.

You wanted everything back from the way it was before--before the mess, before the time you have wasted grew bitterness, you wanted it exchange with happiness and fondness to look back on. Instead, every year has grew harder and impacted greatly on your health and the hope somewhere inside your cognitive thoughts, vanished. You had friends, but all left you when they find out you aren’t rich, and that your older brother spends his time on drinking alcohol and shouting all night, disrupting the neighbors and shattering beer bottles. You protect your mom against his antics; hid her in your bedroom. Despair is your greatest enemy.

You were hoping someone is there to knock on your door and help you find a way out with your sickly mother. The last job you got fired on, was the last straw. With your lack of experience, you wanted nothing more but to commit a terrible act for you to spend money on getting your mother to a full recovery.

Being a better person, to rise above everything and everyone who has no commendable, moral act made you sick to the stomach. You wanted it to stop. Being a better person--to improve as one--seemed unreachable. Everyone in the family, even at work, never gave you a chance to improve for a better growth.

Life seemed unfair unless you're ethereally winsome, extremely wealthy and popularly unique to look at. Privileges meant everything, hard work meant nothing. If only your life is easier with money and lawyers. When you're at your worst, nobody was there to help you.

You can sue anyone who betrays you. But you decided to not go onto their level. Rising above than "civil" and "good", "benevolent" people is the only way to survive in life.

Never minding the expectations of them calling or texting back, you went upstairs on your right.

At your bed, your mom lay asleep with a heater on.

Collapsing down on your knees as your heart began to gnaw with pain. You couldn't handle the pressure anymore. With many people in the world, you're still alone and vulnerable and feeling the worst wave rumbling in your blood and body.

You wanted nothing more than to become a dust, shredded with silken blood and fractured bones.

Gathering your courage, you swept your feelings aside and put on a smile, carrying on as you lifted the plastic bag with nutritious food for her.

"Hello, Mom," you greeted with a sad smile. "I got you some food--your favorite."

Your mother stitred awake, sleepy eyes facing at you. "(y/n)," she said, breathing and yawning as you watched her stretching within stiff motion.

"I got you food," you said, placing it down.

You watched her gather the food at the table and ate every last crumb and portion, including a hot drink you ordered.

"I got fired, Mom," you said. "They didn't pay me back with money. Tried to blackmail me, too. I'm sorry, Mom. I tried my best to get into a better track on pulling myself together. But I got great news. I got the money for you to go to the doctor. We can check and see what's wrong. We can also get the medication."

Your mom splayed her hand, caressing it on the side of your face. "Don't worry, (y/n), everything will fall into place. I want you to know that."

"I hate our relatives," you sputtered with a soft weep. "I hate them. They used you and then took off--cut us off, even. They're so pathetic. Mom, I don't want you to go."

Your mom chuckled. "I'm still here."

You shook your head. "That's not what I mean. I wish Hiroto would get sick instead of you. With your kindness and loving trait, you don't deserve to get sick.”

"Your brother is having a hard time. Just ignore him."

"I can't. He's been drinking everyday. He stole the last money whenever he has none. I don't want him to come back here. He always invaded our space and always talk down on me. Why do I have a family member like him?"

Your mother shushed, embracing you. "Someday there will be someone who loves you and cares for you. You won't need me anymore."

"Everyone is a pervert, a liar and a monster."

"Not every one," your mother said. "You'll find someone special," she promised, patting your back. “I don’t want you to be helpless and hopeless if I someday were to be gone from this life.”

As she mentioned of you wanting to have someone special in your life, your heart numbed, at first, then burnt and squeezed by something regarding your past. As if you knew who. Regardless, you haven’t met anyone special just yet. Your life has been frozen since high school—work and taking care of your mother. But finding work is difficult.

As you embraced your mother, you said, "Someday, everyone who underestimate us, they'll be sorry—I just hope they’ll realize they’re in the wrong. I'll never leave you, Mom. Never."

“I know you won’t.” She kissed atop of your hairline.

With a dead-end, you have to come up with another plan to be permanently away from being under a mercy of your useless drunken brother and your self-centered relatives. Everyone wanted a shortcut, but in order to obtain shortcut of privileges, it must be earned with right and clever work.

In your life, your hands are never filled with luck and fortune, nothing but full of grenades.

After you put your mother back onto your bed, you called your other friend, and left a voicemail. "Hey, can we meet up at the café?"

*~~*~~*

He’s been there since 30 minutes past, and all he couldn’t think about but the smell of drugs and scattered pills.

"Can you get rid of the bitch?" Rindou asked Sanzu, who was polishing his expensively customized katana.

In a lazy form, Sanzu crossed his leg over the other, seeing a clear reflection of his scarred face--two diamond-shaped on each corner of his lips.

"Which bitch?"

"The one whose recently with me."

"Which one? I know you have plenty of bitches in your hands."

His lips curled in disbelief and disapproval. "Are you high?"

"No, I'm low."

Rindou rolled his eyes. "Aoi. Aoi Tanaka."

Sanzu's lulled expression grew with disgust. "That bitch? She smells like sewer rat. What do you see in her?"

"Are you going to do it or not?"

Sanzu placed his weapon down. "What's the catch?"

"I'll give you one of the expensive drinks at the club."

"No."

"No?"

"I want cash. I want more customized katana to add on my collection."

"How many?"

"Five more."

Rindou's brow flicked.

"Fine, ten!"

Rindou sighed with hands on his hips, then his hand stretched towards Sanzu for a handshake. "It's a deal."

Sanzu hit Rindou's hand instead like a high-five. Rindou frowned as Sanzu cackled like a drunk person.

"Just make sure you hide her body. If anybody suspects her missing, whether a friend or family," Rindou continued with a whisper.

"I'll get to it. Finally some action. I want to test my katana on them."

"Don't fuck this up. Or I'll tell Mikey about it you decide to be incompetent once you find her or anyone who associates her."

Sanzu released a maddening laughter. "Trust me, I won't."

“Clean your room for once. Maybe the girls will go with you when you want to flirt with them.”

Sanzu flicked his wrist in dismissal. “Yeah, mom.”

At once, Rindou quitted the room with a huge relief released from the intensity on his shoulders.

Finding another girl should be easy for Rindou. He hated sticking to the same girl for six months. No other girl could refuse his offer.

Taglist: @galactict3a @colored-tr-panels @f1yh1gh @mrssano04 @glamourkills18

[yansimstorythatiwillnotworkon]

#4

Thursday

“Hey, Taro. Do you ever have, like…recurring nightmares?” Osana asks, tapping her fingers onto her bag, which hung onto her shoulder.

“Recurring?” Taro hums in thought, looking ahead of them for a moment.

Ayano walked behind them, her phone in hand and earphones in. She wasn’t too close, but close enough to hear the conversation in full. If either of them thought she was too close, she’d likely look too distracted to hear their conversation.

“Uh, well..” He looks back to Osana. “Lately I’ve been having this dream where I’m under this sakura tree. Sort of just… standing idle.” He shrugs. “The only weird thing is that..I can’t move at all. Like.. I’m just sitting there doing nothing but waiting. I get it's not really a nightmare or anything, but in the dream I’m pretty sure I’m…exhausted. Like I’ve been there in that same spot over and over again. Which I guess is normal for me since it’s recurring. Honestly, even when I wake up I feel like my supposed ��resting’ was stretched out because of that dream.”

Osana scoffs. “So is that your excuse for waking up so late?” She asks, a smug grin on her face.

Rolling his eyes with a smirk, Taro asked. “So what about you, then? I’m guessing you brought up the whole nightmare thing with something in mind?”

“..yes.” Osana exhales, pulling her hands together nervously. “It’s just that.. I keep having this scary nightmare. Like.. I’m swimming or… on a boat or something? Someone grabs my hair and ties it around something heavy, and then shoves it into the water. So. I..y’know. Drown?”

“Jeez.” Taro grimaces. “And you have that dream regularly? Freaky.”

“Right?!” Osana agrees, raising her hands and flopping them back down with a huff. “It’s such a bad nightmare. I swear I’ve been having it almost every night now!”

Taro hums. “You know…” He smiles at her wryly, expecting an eye roll from her as he brings up a book he read, “..I read a book..”

Osana groans, but Taro only laughs.

“Oh, come on! I read a book that speculated that our dreams are reflections of our subconscious feelings. You know… like the ‘a drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts’ thing?” Taro explained, “Maybe you’re subconsciously worried that your hair might be a hazard?”

“I hope you’re not telling me to cut my hair.” Osana huffs, putting her hands on her hips.

Taro shrugs, “I’m just saying, maybe that would help? It’s not like you can have nightmares about hair that you don’t have.” He says.

Osana rolls her eyes. “It sounds like you’re telling me to shave my head.” She scoffs, “But anyway, not a single hair on my head is being cut until–” Osana pauses, her cheeks going pink, “Uh… until I reach a specific milestone in my life! It’s going to be very important, and it’s going to be very life-changing, so I’ll decide then! And don’t ask- because I’m not telling you!”

“Boo.” Taro chuckles, “Fine, but you definitely have to tell me after you cut it. If it’s not too noticeable to me, that is.”

After that conversation, Taro and Osana began talking about some other uninteresting subject. As per usual, Osana would say something, Taro would reply with some form of compliment, and Osana would hiss back with some stupid unnecessary retort.

Ayano looked down to her phone as Info-Chan texted her.

Info-Chan: Did you hear that?

Yan-Chan: I heard everything. What’s your point?

Info-Chan: You’re really bad at this, aren’t you?

Info-Chan: The nightmare.

Yan-Chan: About drowning?

Yan-Chan: What good does that do me?

Info-Chan: It’s entirely possible. That’s the good.

Yan-Chan: What do you mean?

Info-Chan: Every Thursday, Osana and Raibaru go to the pool to sunbathe.

Info-Chan: By the pool.

Yan-Chan: With Raibaru.

Yan-Chan: And that bunch of bullies, too.

Info-Chan: It’s completely possible to distract them.

Yan-Chan: All of them?

Info-Chan: Sure.

Yan-Chan: Then tell me about Raibaru.

Info-Chan: I will if you provide more payment.

Yan-Chan: Give me a price in exchange for a plan to eliminate Raibaru in full.

Info-Chan: In full?

Info-Chan: Maybe. But it's really up to how you execute the plan I give you. :)

Info-Chan: Anyway...

Info-Chan: I heard something about that Horuda girl..

__

“Hey, girls.” Ayano smiles, walking up to the infamous gyaru girls.

Musume stops, raising an eyebrow. “Hey. Uh, which one are you..?” She hums in faux thought, clearly inviting her friends to take a couple of jabs at Ayano. And jab they did.

“I honestly thought she was Horuda for a second.” Hoshiko hummed, tapping away at her phone. “You know. Pale skin, dark hair. If it weren’t in a ponytail they could totes be sisters.” She remarks in an almost bored manner.

“A little thin, aren’t you? What are you? Sick?” Hana giggles as Kashiko suddenly claps her hands together.

“Oh yeaaaah, you’re Yan-Chan!” The purple-themed girl says in realization. “No wonder they call you that! Doesn’t “yan” mean like…sick somewhere?”

Kokoro holds a finger up to her lips in thought. “Yeah, like… some weird anime trope or something? Wait, does that mean you’re contagious?” She asks, covering her mouth with her hand in shock.

Ayano continues smiling, her eye twitching once in irritation. “..anyway. I wanted to ask you about Gema Taku.”

“Gema Taku.” Kashiko repeats, nodding. “Yeah, I know him. He’s like that hunchback, right?” She laughs. “A whole troll this man!”

“No! The one with those big-ass glasses?!” Hana cackles. “I get regular glasses I guess, but he must think he’s a whole ah-nime character with those stupid things!”

Hoshiko gives Hana a judgy look. “It’s anime, Hana. Not ah-nime.” She says.

Hana looks away with a huff. “Whatever. Same thing.”

“One of those bandana boys, right?” Hoshiko asks, tapping her phone against her lip. “Like, with those big, red, goofy bandanas. What the Hell is up with that?”

“And it doesn’t even help that bird’s nest of a hairstyle!” Musume laughs, turning on her phone. “Oh, my God, Hoshiko put that on your blog.”

Hoshiko rolls her eyes. “Meh. I might the next time he approaches me.”

Kokoro fiddled with the pink jacket tied around her waist. “Okay, but… that stubble must be hella annoying, too. Like, I’ll see him scratch his face and it’s just… like… where the Hell is his razor?! His face has to be dirty as Hell. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never washed his face.”

Kashiko grimaces. “My GAWD, that man is gross. I don’t even think Shinto could save his gross-ass.”

Hoshiko giggles. “Imagine he prays to Shinto like ‘Why am I still single?’ and Shinto just gives him a fucking mirror!” She says, causing a wave of laughter to arise from she and her friends.

Ayano sighs, walking away from their laughter. Honestly, she was exhausted just listening to them. Previously, Gema asked her if she knew why the group of bullies avoided him so intensely. It seemed obvious enough to Ayano, but maybe his parents just never bothered being honest with him.

Truthfully, Ayano didn’t know why exactly Gema would want to be around those girls anyway. He certainly had strange taste, Ayano thought, casting one last glance at the cackling group.

__

Before Ayano could get back to the Gaming Club, Bea called out to her. “Hey, Aya.” She called, waving to her laxly.

Ayano raised an eyebrow at her, but approached her regardless. “Aya��� was something that her upperclassmen called her, likely because it was cute- something an older person would call you, even if it was just by a year. But Bea was a first year. Maybe it was some form of an insult? Honestly, no one could ever tell when it came from Bea.

“Heard you were asking the girls about Gema.” Bea said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall.

Ayano nods. “That’s right. What of it?”

Bea smiles, “I take it he specifically asked for their opinion, then?” She guesses, and Ayano nods again. “Thought so. Well, I’m not sure if you’re doing this favor for him for your own good or his, but if it’s the latter, do tell him to watch his tongue.”

“Why do you say that?” Ayano asks, folding her hands behind her back. She didn’t know how exactly to approach Bea or how to appear when it came to her. From what she saw, no type of person seemed to appeal to her.

“Obviously because his attitude is atrocious.” Bea laughs. “It’s to be expected for any game-obsessed incel-in-the-making like him, especially when your parents give up on you. At that point you have no one to correct you. Just people to judge you, and who knows how he’ll take that?” She shrugs. “But anyway, don’t tell him I said that. I’m one of the ones who judge him, so he won’t take it seriously if he hears it was from me.”

“If you say so.” Ayano nods, walking towards the gaming club again. As per usual, she couldn’t place Bea’s intentions. It was a good thing that she was too lazy to be of any harm, or else Ayano might have to stress over that as well.

__

Gema frowned. “A bunch of superficial stuff like that?” He asks, folding his arms in thought. “I guess I… I guess I am kind of quick to anger, though. I’m flattered that they thought of how I could better myself! Uh..” He hesitates, blushing a bit, “Can you… tell me which one of them exactly said that?” He asks.

“...Musume.” Ayano says, recalling that Gema had a crush on her specifically, although he would likely go for any of them if possible.

“Wow… That’s, like… really cool of her. I didn’t think she paid attention to stuff like that.” Gema said bashfully before clearing his throat. “Right, but… I’m really glad you helped me with this, Ayano! I know I’ve got some things to work out, but it was really amazing of you to help me out despite it.” He thanks her honestly, bowing deeply.

Gema puts his game down on the table. “Okay. I’m gonna go change up my appearance right now! The sooner the better, you know? See you!” He says, quickly walking out of the club room.

Ayano immediately looks down to her phone.

Yan-Chan: So that will distract the bullies?

Info-Chan: It should.

Yan-Chan: Should.

Info-Chan: “Should” is the closest you’re getting, Yan-Chan. ^^

Info-Chan: There’s only so much I as your informant can do.

Info-Chan: Perhaps if you were a little more knowledgeable on the situation, you would give yourself a more certain answer.

Yan-Chan: You can’t just throw me into a situation and expect me to know what I’m doing.

Info-Chan: Oh? I thought that was your idea, Yan-Chan.

Info-Chan: If it weren’t for me, your stab and run plans would probably result in you getting caught way earlier than any mistake I may make could.

Ayano shoves her phone into her pocket angrily, which was a usual response when it came to Info-Chan harassing her with her nonsense. Deciding to calm down, she decided to move onto the next step, which was to distract Raibaru for the day.

Dropping something in front of her wouldn’t work, as she’d either quickly go put it back or ignore it entirely if the location was too far from Osana. Couldn’t she part from her for five minutes? That’s all it really takes to kill a girl.

Since that wasn’t going to come that easy to Ayano, she came to terms with the fact that she was going to have to do something a bit more complicated. That, of course, is getting in contact with her old student.

__

It was about thirty minutes to class time. Plenty of time, Ayano hoped.

“Aya-Chan! Ayano! Hey!” Budo smiled at her, happy to see her return. “You wouldn’t be here to join, would ya?” He asks in a quieter voice, folding his arms as he looked down to her.

Ayano shakes her head. “Uh, no. I’m… I’m here to ask you if there’s anything you needed?”

Budo tilts his head to the side, a bit confused but still smiling. “Are you asking for some reason in particular? That’s a pretty strange question, Aya.”

“...um, well.” Ayano could tell that this idea of hers was falling apart, which would be a jab to her pride considering this was an idea she thought of without Info-Chan’s help. “...I just heard that Raibaru used to be your mentor. But… I also heard that you and her weren’t on the best terms?” She folds her hands in front of her, avoiding Budo’s gaze. “I have… a decent amount of respect for you two, so I thought maybe this could be my chance to help you two out?”

“Hm..” Budo smiles, raising a hand to his mouth in thought. “Well, as flattered as I am… really, I am. I wouldn’t want to ask you for something so personal.” He claims.

Ayano visibly deflates, although she can’t decide if she was actually getting depressed about failing or if she wanted to appear that way to him.

Budo laughs, “Of course, this doesn’t mean that you can’t earn that favor.” He pats her back, pointing to the rest of his club. “If my students could vouch for you I’d definitely be open to letting you help.”

Frowning, Ayano turns to his clubmates and counts heads. Four tasks. Four hopefully not too over-the-top tasks. And then there comes the problem with asking them for help without getting the homework treatment again.

“Right. I understand.” Ayano nods briefly, stiffening when Budo ruffles her hair.

“Good stuff, Ayano.” He pats her back again. “Go get ‘em!” Budo’s enthusiasm doesn’t seem to properly convey itself to Ayano. If anything, the discomfort of being touched so much just slows her down.

With that drawback, Ayano awkwardly shuffles over to Shima. “Hello, Shima.” She says, kneeling down with her. “I wanted to ask if you needed a, uh… favor. Or maybe if there was just something you needed me to do?”

Shima tilts her head, but ultimately goes with Ayano’s offer and raises a hand to her chin in thought. “Hm…” She hums loudly, looking up to the ceiling, before whispering. “I’m just humming loudly to make it look like I’m thinking by the way.” She says, still looking at the ceiling. “Look to your left but don’t stare.” She says.

Ayano glances to the left, then back to Shima, but doesn’t understand what she was supposed to be looking at. She shrugs, an eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

“It’s–” Shima smacks her teeth as Budo tells the club to head out. As the others leave she exhales. “--the training dummy over there. You see how limp it is? Well, it’s not supposed to be like that. I’m sure Budo’s noticed already, but I’m honestly dreading when he scolds me about it.”

Ayano looks to her right again, noticing that before the dummy was standing up straight. “What’d you do to it?” She asks, turning back to Shima.

The short-haired girl puckers her lips, leaning back a bit sheepishly. “...suplexed it.” She mumbles, picking at the floor. “It wasn’t supposed to break. It never broke before..” Her eyes widened and she points a finger to Ayano. “You’d better not tell Budo that I mess with the dummy often. I’ll suplex you, too!”

Ayano furrows her eyebrows doubtfully, but does raise her hands in surrender and nods. “Got it. So, do you want me to fix it?” She asks, Shima nodding with a hopeful smile. “How should I go about doing that?”

“Uh, you could probably use a wrench or something. I heard there’s a pipe wrench stored somewhere on campus.” Shima says, shrugging. “The gardening club..? No, no one gardens with pipe wrenches. What do people do with pipe wrenches again..? Oh, yeah, fix pipes..”

Ayano pulls her phone out of her pocket, tempted to just ask Info-Chan, when Shima suddenly claps loudly. “Oh, yeah! The pipe room! I mean pump room! Duh. Wow, I am so lame for not realizing that sooner.” She claims, but overall seems very lax about the whole ordeal. “Yeah, but if you can fix the dummy I’ll give you, like…uh..” She fishes around in her robe before pulling out a dollar. “Look! Money.”

Tilting her head to the side, Ayano hesitantly takes the money. “..why do you have a dollar in–”

“--you got this, Yano-Chan!” Shima says, standing up abruptly and speed walking out of the club room. She peeks her head in again. “Oh, but, tell me if you’re not going to do it so I can skip school until Budo forgets. And take my dollar back.”

Ayano furrows her eyebrows as Shima leaves quickly. She certainly was straightforward. That complimented Ayano’s strange and straightforward question, at the very least.

The pump room, huh? She’ll need something to carry it in so she isn’t pulled aside by the council or something.

__

Thankfully, Miyuji was fine with Ayano using an instrument bag for a minute. And thankfully once more it didn’t take long for her to fix the dummy. The same went for cleaning the house in the zen garden. The only problem was that Ayano was spotted twice by a student council member.

Akane walked in on her fixing the dummy, and almost seemed disappointed to learn that Ayano wasn’t doing anything suspicious with it. In the end, she offered to take it back for her, which was another trip off of her shoulders.

And while Ayano was getting the mop ready, Kuroko walked in on her. She actually apologized for assuming she was doing something strange, and allowed her to carry on after Ayano explained what she was doing. Thank God she didn’t run into Aoi. Lord knows she would have gotten a very unnecessary earful.

Currently, she was carrying a couple of dumbbells inside of a small tub. Juku recommended doing so because it would be suspicious if she carried just the dumbbells. Unfortunately, carrying the bucket seemed to be just as suspicious.

“Hold it, Aya-Chan.” Shiromi called from behind her. She laxly walks up to the taller girl as Ayano stops. “Whatcha got there?” She asks, peeking into the bucket. “Ya gonna smash someone’s head in with these?”

“Why would I need multiple to do that?” Ayano asks mistakingly, instead of acting as innocent as she was supposed to be.

Shiromi laughs. “Fair point. Carry on.” She says, walking past Ayano with her hands behind her head as per usual.

Ayano pauses. “W-Wait. I’m taking this to Ju–”

“--yikes, I can’t hear you over the meeting I’m having with the student council after cleaning time!” Shiromi calls back loudly, walking off with a childish grin. “Gee, I sure hope I don’t remember Ayano Aishi suspiciously carrying a tub of dumbbells!”

Ayano 100% couldn’t tell if Shiromi was joking or just bragging about Ayano eventually getting in trouble, but Info-Chan didn’t bother texting to tell her anything, so she assumed she…might be fine? It's not like she would get in trouble for being suspicious, especially when said suspicious thing had an alibi in Juku, right?

Maybe. Ayano shakes her head with a sigh. Hopefully, that was the case.

__

“I appreciate you helping me out with this, Ayano.” Sho Kunin claims, smiling at her with the blue weapon in hand. “I don’t recall hearing about you being too experienced in combat, though.” He comments.

Ayano shakes her head. “I know enough.” She says, preparing herself to counter Sho. Her mother had taught her a lot about self-defense, and she’s even sparred with her before. On several other occasions, her mother has asked favors from people she knew to train Ayano. She never did learn who exactly those friends of her mother were.

Sho nods and starts with raising his weapon up to strike her. A direct strike is easy to block when it comes to those who focus more on strength than speed. That was something her mother taught her. Ayano raises her hand and swiftly grabs the weapon, raising her other hand to strike. Unfortunately, Sho was able to shove her back before she could. Ayano furrows her eyebrows, noting that Sho was unfortunately very strong and fast. This was to be expected, considering he was just second to Budo.

Both Ayano and Sho get back into their starting position. Once again, Sho swings the weapon. This time, Ayano blocks with one hand, and uses the other to knock the weapon out of his hand. Sho attempts to strike her again, but Ayano is able to dodge and pull him closer. Now with much less space between them, Ayano’s able to land a solid knee kick into his stomach.

This causes Sho to recoil in pain and step back. “Ah, God…” He chuckles, standing up as straight as he can but still smiling. “..I think ‘knowing enough’ is a complete understatement, haha..” He sighs, rubbing his stomach, “Good hit, Ayano. Consider me humbled.”

“Indeed! I’m impressed with how quickly you adapted to that!” Budo says, smacking his hand on her back once again. Despite how tough Ayano was to have beaten Sho, she clearly fumbled when Budo patted her. He was certainly strong if that much force was put into a casual gesture.

Budo puts his hands on his hips as he and Ayano move out of the way, Ayano leaning against the wall to catch her breath. Mina stood up, making sure Sho was alright before the two continued their own sparring. Regardless of how badly Ayano had hurt Sho, he was still fine enough to fight one of the best in their club just fine. Sho was second to Budo but still so much weaker. Ayano wondered how much exactly it would take to defeat him if Budo did become an enemy to her.

“You know, you’d really make such a good addition to the club.” Budo insists, smiling down at Ayano. “I know, you probably expect me to say that as a leader. Gotta get other people in and all that, but you show honest potential.” He says, folding his arms. “Where’d you learn to fight like that anyway?”

Ayano hummed in thought, turning to look at the window in the club room. “My mother trained me. She has a lot of friends that were experienced in self-defense, weapon use, and..” Ayano blinks, almost going into her lessons of hiding blood and whatnot, “...a lot. About the body, its limits, and so on.”

Budo smiles. “I guess that’s why you have such a good balance in your body, right?” He asks. As Ayano lifts an eyebrow his way, he holds a hand up to her. “A smaller, thinner but still very strong body. It’s not too common, you know. And you seem to wield it exceptionally well.”

“Yes, probably.” Ayano says simply. Now that her body had slowed back down, she began thinking of what else she needed to do.

“That reminds me!” Budo starts loudly, making Ayano flinch. He immediately quiets back down and continued, “You wanted to help Raibaru and I, right? Since you’ve finished my club’s… uh, tasks, I guess I can give you the gist, right?” He says, leading her outside of the clubroom.

The martial artist closes the door and exhales, his voice exceptionally quieter than before. “You see, my students say they appreciate my training, but I feel like there’s… more that I could do for them. I know I’ve pushed them farther than they’re used to and the majority of them have excelled because of that, but I’d… well, I guess I’d like some advice?” Budo says, seeming more awkward than before.

“Advice from Raibaru?” Ayano guesses, tilting her head to the side as she crosses her arms. Budo nods, an awkward smile on his face.

“As you probably know, Raibaru was my old mentor. She founded the club, even, and was amazing at what she did. After I beat her, she quit, saying that she wanted to step away from martial arts anyway, and left the position to me.” Budo explained, frowning, “I guess I’m just worried that my beating her contributed to her leaving. So, I’ve never bothered attempting to ask her for help. Just in case she really did loathe me for taking her place.” He pauses in thought, before raising a hand to the back of his neck and smiling awkwardly. “I guess that’s pretty pathetic, right? She did give me the position, after all.”

“A little.” Ayano comments honestly, causing Budo to laugh. She folds her arms behind her back awkwardly, realizing that she probably shouldn’t say anything rude, even if in her mind it was the absolute truth. “I’m sorry. What would you like me to do?” She asks.

Budo smiles once more. “You’re a funny one, Ayano.” He comments, “But all in all, if you could go to Raibaru and ask her to give me and the club some tips, I would appreciate it a lot. Whenever you can.” He claims, folding his arms in his usual manner.

Ayano nods. “I understand. I’ll see what I can do.” She bows her head briefly. “Thank you for having me.”

“Anytime!” Budo says happily. “You’re welcome here whenever you so please, Aya!” He calls as Ayano leaves to plan her next move.

__

“Huh..? A-Are you sure?” Ayano asks, feigning a timid persona. Hopefully, this helped to mask her absolute rage from Osana and Raibaru.

Raibaru nods as Osana enters the girl’s changing rooms. “It’s lunch time right now, so they’re probably eating. I’ll definitely make sure to visit after cleaning time, though.” She smiles, “I’ll be happy to start talking to him again. I admit, after he beat me I was feeling a bit discouraged, hehe…”

Ayano’s eyes widen in anger, but she turns her head in an attempt to mask it. “Right… Budo said that he was worried that you might be upset with him. I think it’s really eating away at him. Surely you can go and have a word with him?” She insisted quietly.

“Budo’s tough, as far as I’m concerned.” Raibaru giggles, referring again to her defeat by his hand. “I’m sure he can wait a couple more hours. If you’re so worried about it, then you can go tell Budo to meet me after cleaning time.” She offers.

Osana walks back out, now in a swimsuit that resembled the pattern of her hair ties, “I’ll see you out at the pool Raibaru.” She says, patting her friends back, “Strange that Musume and her friends didn’t come, though…” She hums nonchalantly, heading towards the pool.

Raibaru waves to Osana cheerily before smiling at Ayano and heading inside of the changing room. God, Raibaru was alone. If only Ayano was strong enough to take her, this whole process would be so much easier! For now, Ayano balled her fists and followed Raibaru in. Maybe she would have a chance if she was there with them? Maybe Raibaru would spontaneously decide to drown in the pool and leave Osana alone with Ayano.

The only thing Ayano could do was take Osana’s phone, which she had left in her locker. Osana had planned on taking a nap during cleaning time before leaving with Taro for whatever blasted “date” they had planned. Maybe if she trashed her phone, she wouldn’t have any way of keeping track of the time while she was sleeping? Info-Chan had told Ayano that Raibaru often kept her phone silent, and on most occasions simply didn’t bring her phone to school, devoting her full attention to Osana whenever possible.

Ayano sighs as she approaches her locker, before getting a notification on her phone. As she dreaded, it was Info-Chan.

Info-Chan: Ha ha.

Yan-Chan: Info, you are being absolutely useless right now.

Info-Chan: At least my plans were properly thought out.

Info-Chan: In the end, as per usual, it was your own incompetence that led to you failing once again.

Yan-Chan: What sort of informant are you if you don’t give me the information I need? All of it? I provided you payment.

Info-Chan: You’re the one who chose to execute this at lunch.

Info-Chan: If you had distracted Raibaru beforehand and gained Osana’s trust, you could have killed her by this morning and had her body set ablaze in the incinerator.

Info-Chan: And yet :(

If Info-Chan weren’t reliable in any way shape or form, Ayano would storm that damned info club of hers.

As Info-Chan had teased, Ayano got no opportunity to eliminate Osana. All she got in the end was a light tan and an imprint of her hand on her wrist due to her pent up rage.

After school, as Taro waited for Osana, Ayano waited with him. She knew that she wouldn’t come, of course, unless Raibaru decided that Osana’s beauty sleep was less important than their date.

In the end, Ayano was only disappointed once again as Taro went inside the school to go check on her. Following him proved that he indeed found her asleep, and as any wonderful bunch of friends, they rescheduled for the weekend. Another failure, even with Ayano sabotaging Osana.

One day remained. One day before Ayano was forced to do something drastic.

[feedists4progress]

do you love talking to people? do you excel at speaking to people off the cuff, on the spot, under a moderate amount of pressure? do you do your best work in person, face-to-face, or at community events? i can't relate but i respect your hustle so much. you are doing what i cannot!

phone banking is a great option if you don't mind (or even enjoy) talking on the phone. i personally find it very stressful but i have friends who love it because they get to speak directly with members of the community and have real, human conversations with them.

how it works: your organizer will help set you up on a platform with a google voice number or autogenerated phone number, give you a script, and turn you loose with an auto dialer to make the calls. as with textbanking, you'll probably also get a list of canned responses related to policy, issues, other relevant info, etc. to refer to in your phone conversations. phone bank for democrats in ...

Florida

Montana

Nevada

North Carolina

Ohio

Pennsylvania

Presidental election

Mobilize has tons more phonebanking events as well!

knocking doors is exactly what it sounds like. i have not done this myself, but if you live in an area where you feel safe walking around and talking to unfamiliar people and want to connect with members of your community, this could be a great option for you!

how it works: your organization will give you a training if you're new at canvassing and will provide you with any materials (flyers, cards, stickers, etc.) you might need. you will also get a script with talking points and canned responses you can use with voters.

Mobilize is once again a great hub for in-person volunteer opportunities.

be sure to look for local door-knocking events! many smaller grassroots campaigns use this method of canvassing to make themselves known and communicate directly with their communities.

target lists for canvassing are generally made up of registered voters or voters who are likely to support your cause, so there is a lower likelihood of confrontation or aggression.

many events recommend showing up with comfy shoes, sunscreen, water, and a mask!

voter registration events: have clipboard, will travel! i haven't done this myself, but i have had some genuinely nice conversations with canvassers on the street.

how it works: your organizer will supply you with a brief training, a clipboard, forms, pens, flyers, etc., and send you out to "hot spots" like college campuses, grocery stores, parks, or city centers. you will also likely get a script with talking points and candidate/policy information.

Mobilize has a huge list of voter registration events all over the nation!

many of the events i've seen encourage wearing liberal/leftist t-shirts, hats, pins, etc., to enhance approachability! sunscreen and water are also highly encouraged, and a mask is probably a good idea too!

bring a friend if you don't want to go alone!

become a poll worker. i'm doing this for the first time for my state primary in september and i'm honestly kind of nervous but i think it'll be a good experience! of course, working the polls doesn't support one candidate over another, but poll volunteers are crucial to keeping elections free and fair!

how it works: sign up through your town or city's website (i literally googled "become [city] poll worker" and found the link). you'll do at least one training session and get assigned a role on election day.

some states do pay you for your time working and training, but it may differ from state to state. this handbook from the US Election Assistance Commission should be able to tell you about payment in your state -- i just ctrl+f "compensation" and comb through.

All Voting is Local has a handy guide for first-time poll workers! (their compensation link is broken though)

see you out there!!

[dateamonster]

actually since its on my mind now im gonna give u another big loredump. this is how angelique gets kicked out of angel school.

to start, a little background info. while celestial and angel are terms used interchangeably, celestial refers more to what angels are as a like species and angel is more like. a career? except not really its more like a career if that career were the only career. its like if humankind was split into like kids and accountants, and if you grew to adulthood and didnt become an accountant youre like not even rly recognized as a person. youre some other weird Thing the other normal accountants dont even have a word for. does that make sense? well moving on.

so the main purpose of young celestials' schooling is to guide them into full-fledged angelhood and help them earn their wings. wings show up usually in like late adolescence to young adulthood upon the completion of some kind of significant life event or milestone. think mlp cutie marks except theyre all functionally the same one. you may be sensing a theme.

new babby angels for the most part kinda just pop into existence, but angels can also be born the ya know traditional way, and angels can procreate with non-angels. the result of an angel and mortal union is a naphal or nephel (plural: nephilim). nephilim are actually a good deal more powerful than your standard angel, possibly due to the fact that theyre not limited by the compulsion towards Goodness that angels are generally beholden to. unlike full celestials who only gain access to the full range of their angelic abilities upon maturation, nephilim are able to access their powers from adolescence onward, but also have a much harder time controlling them, and are broadly stigmatized as dangerous, uncivilized, and impure as a result.

despite this, nephilim are welcome (at least in the most surface level way) and in fact strongly encouraged to integrate into angelic society in the event that their celestial heritage makes them unable to blend in with human society. nephel kids who graduate from an angel institution (and earn their wings, something which a lot of kids experience upon graduation anyway) are even granted honorary full angel status and any trace of their former human heritage is completely erased ^_^ yayy

this is a lot of very rambly worldbuilding but i feel like the context is important.

so back in angel school angelique was a pretty popular kid. top of her class, an exemplary angel in the making, you know the drill. one day by chance she catches a classmate stealing the answers for an upcoming test. the classmate in question is a nephel kid named quinn who was raised human for the first thirteen years of their life before their powers started coming in and they were forced to transfer. as you might have guessed, its not been an easy transition for quinn, and distributing these answers to a few less than studious young celestials is meant to serve as payment for their protection from the pretty much constant bullying.

at first ange doesnt care why theyre doing it, its wrong! but.. quinn points out that she doesnt know what its like. shes the star student, the headmistress' daughter for goodness sakes. theyve been dealt a very different hand.

before angelique can think too much on that though, a teacher walks in and the two of them get busted fighting over the answers. in the heat of the moment angelique takes the fall, protecting quinn. because after all theyre right, the punishment she stands to receive is probably going to be much lighter than what quinn stands to face, right? theres no way the headmistress would punish her own daughter too severely, especially once she explains that she was only trying to do what was right, as always!

angelique doesnt get to explain. angelique gets expelled.

[townofcadence]

Her expression at the show of teeth is certainly one that's affected. Her eyes widen just a second, before she scoffs and shakes her head. Her arms cross, and she regards both of them with watchful eyes.

Artair meanwhile feels the rising heat from Butch, but the guy doesn't act on it, for which he's grateful. He wants this whole mess to go in the right direction, and it already feels so tenuous.

It is... somewhat undercut by Butch correcting his name. The notion of it is equal parts sweet and well... bless his heart. He was doing his best to put respect to his name, and--- honestly, it's sweet. He'd chosen his own name for himself after all, and dealt with his fair share of rough times for it, but it was his. It was the one he wanted to be called. Even if the situation wasn't one where he needed defending, the fact that Butch would...

He's perfect. He wants to...he doesn't know. His brain is piecemeal. But a kiss at least crosses his mind. Peyton meanwhile looks like Butch has grown a second, even more annoying head. She looks at Artair again and her expression screams "Really?". Probably on his taste in company, but this time she's polite enough not to say it. Maybe because Butch is louder, and other patrons are glancing their way. An audience that isn't online is probably the last thing she wants.

He feels those gentle ministrations, sees Butch's expression, which eases any initial worry of earlier, and Peyton is giving up. His next breath is relieved.

Butch continues.

Peyton goes from lamenting to-- maybe pissed, to thoughtful in almost rapid time, as she looks at both him and Butch. Then she focuses on Butch. She nods and her face says she understands now. It's a very 'I've connected the dots' kind of expression, but he's not sure what there even is to piece together. She huffs at Butch. "I am not a journalist. I'm a true-crime Podcaster, which is a brave and intellectually stimulating career about solving cold cases others can't, and the pursuit of the truth. And now I understand the racket here. Your game." She almost looks disgusted.

"People like you two are everywhere. Profiting off your information and others' loss like-- like vultures! But fine. If that's the game you want to play, I can pay for your info. But it better be good."

Artair blinks. "...What?"

"Don't play dumb now, Air-tair." Her tone is derisive as she reaches into her bag. "You and your crony here were just waiting to extort me. You act all innocent and then you have him strong arm me about seeking the truth, and then you demand payment! This is just about the money. Blood-money I hope you know. You're a bunch of leeches, for feeding on a tragedy like this."

"... What the fuck are you talking about? You approached me?" Upset and panic still run like an undercurrent to his thoughts, but the sheer volume of confusion makes it hard to feel anything else. That verging breakdown is miles away, pushed out by incredulous bafflement.

She gives them both a cool look. Out of her purse comes-- a checkbook. "Don't try to trick me. You probably knew I'd been following you this whole time and set this up-- didn't you?"

"Wh--" She talks over him.

"You knew I was hot on your trail and you got this dense asshole to lie in wait so you could ambush me and demand payment. Well fine! What's the price? I want this story."

“I can be, but I can’t promise I don’t bite.” Butch comments, baring his teeth at her in a grin, small fangs visible and for once, he’s glad. He hopes they unsettle her!

His brows knit together a bit tighter when she brings up those two names again, and refers to Artair as some third wheel. Oooh, anger stirs inside of him like a hot soup! She was about to be a third wheel—a wheel with a gash in it, if she didn’t shut her mouth. Butch wasn’t the type to discriminate when it came to throwing punches, but he’d come to learn that there were better ways of handling situations like these—from Artair no less. A little patience went a long way more often than not, as much as he hated it, and this was about Artair anyway. He should be afforded the opportunity to stick up for himself, like he had for him.

Suddenly, he finds himself a bit offended by (what he perceives to be) the butchering of Artair’s name at the end of her words. Arthur? Butch makes a face and suddenly none of her other words seems to matter, and he can’t help but cut in, “Uh, his name is AIR-tair.” The cowboy states, pronouncing it incorrectly as he seemed to have a habit of doing thanks to his accent. “A-R-T….A…-I-R!” He spells it out plainly just in case she doesn’t get it the first time, his volume certainly beyond the appropriate library volume despite his earlier gripes with her.

There’s a long silence that hangs between them, including the other book fair attendees, and Artair is quick to move right along (thank god), actually telling her like it is—and he’s proud, even though personally he would have been far more rude about it. He can still feel those fingers trembling some against his palm and his thumb moves to brush tenderly over the back of Artair’s hand, a soothing gesture. He’s watching the taller man’s expression with sympathy, his own expression shifting back to an irritated one the moment he’s looking back at Peyton.

“That’s right, y’wasted yer time jus’ like ya wasted ours. Big deal. Listen, ‘sides th’ fact that he obviously don’t wanna share nothin’ with you anyhow—what makes ya think he’s gonna tell ya anythin’ at all fer free? Y’think bein’ pushy alone’s gonna get ya answers? Ain’t ya some kinda journalist? Get real!”

[windwheeler-aster]

whatever i’ve done, i did it for love

summary: living the life of a harbinger oftens twists ones’ view, especially when you involve their loved ones.

masterlist

pairings (separate): childe, capitano, arlecchino, pantalone, and dottore x reader

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), is in an established relation with characters mentioned, and is not the traveler

word count: 1,605 words (400~ words each) (8 mins~ total) (1 min 40 sec~ each)

genre: romance

format: drabbles

warnings: technically OOC harbingers (excluding childe), harbingers doing things in “the name of love,” light gore (brief mentions of blood and killing), torture of background characters, and brief mentions of electric shocks

a/n: this song is heavily inspired by One More Hour by Tame Impala. it was randomly stuck in my head, despite never listening to it fully, and i now present you with this💖 i hope you all enjoy💖 

ajax, childe, tartgalia, or whatever he goes by, has always loved you. 

he looks at you like you are the sole thing keeping him warm during the bitter winters of snezhnaya. as if your smile alone could warm ajax to his core, leaving him almost weak in the knees every time you smiled so brightly. and the kisses you peppered across his cheeks? the burning blush that follows after could only compare to the burning sensation at the risk of frost bite. 

and ajax would gladly lean into you as your lips touch each faint freckle, because he seeks your company and love like a moth to a flame.

which is why he would gladly do anything for you in the name of “pure” love.

i am only protecting you, ajax reasons as he cuts down his targets in one broad strike. they all fall to the floor with in sickening synchronization. the blood that pools by their bodies barely makes him stiffen when he remembers it’s all for you. 

ajax casually steps over their cold bodies as he makes his way out the back door, the sound of incoming guards approaching. but ajax isn’t scared. 

no, he only sends some arrows their way. soon the shouting stops and he only hears their bodies hit the floor. ajax barely spares them a look as his mind whirls to life, his usually lifeless eyes sparkling at the thought of you.

and once he returns from the mission and receives his praise and payment from the tsaritsa, ajax finds his way to you. he barges into your shared home and searches for your form briefly, before he sees you running up to meet him. and ajax scoops you up, despite your protests, and kisses you deeply. 

whatever i’ve done, ajax thinks as he stares into your eyes, i did it for love.

fighting for the tsarita is no small feat. and commanding an army full of loyal soldiers isn’t either.

and yet, capitano almost feels guilty as he sends his soldiers out to battle. he shouldn’t though. as soon as he had joined the rest of the harbingers, capitano had privately sworn to himself to never feel guiltiness or regret. each move he makes must be calculated to be in the tsarita’s favour. or else.

but he still feels regretful when the death toll rises, when more heavily injured soldiers join their comrades above. then capitano finds shame consuming him as he tries to plan positions more carefully. he can’t help but think of the families behind each soldier, all waiting for them back home.

and he is familiar with the feeling he sees across each soldier’s face: homesickness. some days, he feels that same feeling creep up onto him. during those days, capitano wants to give in to his selfish desires to flee the battlefield and return home to you. 

he wants to be welcomed into your embrace as he sobs into your shoulder, missing every single inch of you. capitano never wants to face the horrors of war again, he just wants to be with you and you alone. his heart aches for the day he can just coexist with you. he wants to live without any worry of who dies and who lives, only worrying and fretting over you.

but the fear of disappointing the tsarita is greater than his need to be in your presence again. so, capitano places his helmet over his head as he relays the next battle plans to his nearby soldiers. 

whatever i do, capitano thinks as he leads them out of the camp, i will do it for love. 

not a day goes by where arlecchino isn’t in love with you.

when arlecchino looks at you, for once in her life she wants to let go of every worry and fear. she wants to trust you with every fiber of her being and not look back. because she looks at you and she sees a future together, full of love and support. and, because arlecchino loves you so, so, so much that she would do absolutely anything to protect you.

including punishing some pea-brained subordinates when they bad mouthed you in front of her. for some reason, those low lives decided to run their mouths without even checking if the cost was clear. idiots, she thinks to herself as they fall to their knees, pleading for mercy. she tossed them across the hall without a second thought as she continued her day. idiots like them don’t deserve another moment of your time, arlecchino imagined you would say.

when the tsaritsa heard of this dispute, she wasn’t so pleased with arlecchino. she never is when this happens. 

this is now the third time in a row where arlecchino was called in for this behavior. at this point, it had become very clear to both arlecchino and the cryo archon that she was very loyal towards you. to the point where her loyalty to you outweighed her loyalty to the tsaritsa.

apparently, the two soldiers she pummeled just “didn’t know better.” arlecchino merely huffed and rolls her eyes at the tsaritsa, finding this meeting utterly pointless. disgruntled by her subordinate’s behavior, the tsaritsa then told her that she’s “too invested in this fling” to be acting like this. 

“with all due respect, your majesty,” arlecchino said, not caring that she was challenging the tsaritsa, “they are mine, and i would do anything for them.”

the tsaritsa tilted her head. “and the reason behind this...?”

“because i would— and will— do it for love,” arlecchino clarified. “and i will do it for my love, your majesty.”

pantalone wonders how you haven’t fallen out of love with him.

of course, pantalone is grateful that you love him still. he appreciates each heartfelt look you give him, whether it be when you two are settled in bed or from opposite ends of the room. where ever you are, pantalone will always be able to see the love that practically pours from your eyes. 

and he absolutely treasures each fleeting touch he receives from you. if not for his reputation and prying eyes, pantalone would lean into your side each time you hold his hand in public. each embrace between you two goes on for longer than you intend, pantalone’s hands almost digging into your hips to keep you in place. if he had it his way, pantalone would have you two conjoined at the hip.

pantalone just wished he didn’t have to go through such violent means to put pearls on your wrists and bread on the table.

the drunkard, someone who’s debt to the tsaritsa was unpaid for, swung widely at pantalone. agile as ever, he ducked as the drunk’s hand collided with the guard who hovered by pantalone. in one motion, he turned around and reared his fist back. clenching his teeth, pantalone’s fist made contact with the drunk’s face.

“look through his pockets,” he commanded his soldiers, idly popping his knuckles as he stepped out of the alleyway. “if he can afford a drink, then he can pay off his debt to the tsaritsa.”

while the guards obey his command, pantalone fishes out a silver necklace that was tucked under his shirt. he rubbed over the locket’s surface before pressing down on it, smiling with satisfaction when it popped open. inside was a photo of you and pantalone, his favorite photo of you two.

whatever i’ve done, he justifies as he stashes the locket away, i did it for love.

dottore’s methods of torture are sadistic. they always have been. but it seems whenever you were mentioned, his ways of torture were more humiliating and cruel. 

and someone just had to give their opinion on your relationship just as dottore had rounded the corner. which soured his mood completely, by the way, and almost ruined his day. 

and in all honesty, he didn’t want to torture this new recruit. but who was going to stop dottore from teaching the new recruits how things work around here? exactly, no one.

just like how no one could hear the pleas and screams coming from dottore’s lab. and if they did, they just pretended otherwise. he didn’t really care that much. the tsaritsa could have heard it all and he’d shrug it off, as he found teaching the new recruits much more entertaining. 

“and what was it you said about my darling?” he prompts, fingers hovering just above the button on his remote. 

“he said they were just some experiment for you,” a different soldier spoke up, “that you were only toying around with their feelings!”

dottore nodded. “interesting. thank you for your honesty, soldier. the tsaritsa doesn’t take too kindly to liars,” he pressed down on his remote and smiled wickedly when the strapped down soldier jolted. “and neither do i.”

later, the tsaritsa had called for him. she never liked whenever he did these meetings. she found his methods to bring more pleasure for dottore than teaching experience. so, dottore gave her a simple— no, an expected excuse for his behaviour.

“what i did,” he reports to the tsartisa, “i did it for fun.”

that’s a lie though. because dottore loves you, even though he might not always show it. he loves you so much, and dottore feels so lucky to have you. he is thankful for your patience whenever he tries to use words, he knows it can be hard. and he appreciates your love every day, so he would do anything for you.

whatever i’ve done, he thinks to himself as leaves the meeting, i did it for love.

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

[chaoclub]

A beginner's guide to planning a DND campaign

If you're staring at a blank page and have no idea where to start... here's some tips on what you should be doing!

First thing's first: You need to start with your players. It may sound obvious, but it's going to make your campaign feel much more natural. Get a concrete number of players, and make their character sheets and backstories. If you don't have time for character sheets, simply learn their races, alignments, and classes. (There are tons of good guides out there on that info and how to choose!)

It's always good to know these things beforehand so you don't walk into your first session and realize all your players chose the same class or race, too.

Once you have your basic information, jump to the very end of your campaign and answer the final question: What is the end goal? What is the final thing that your players will be working towards? An example I'll use is the defeat of a crime boss. The campaign will end when the characters defeat the BBEG (big bad evil guy). But it doesn't have to be a BBEG- maybe the end goal is to find a missing relic or loot a dungeon. For the sake of this I'll be using "BBEG" to describe the final boss, but keep in mind that you don't need a real character to oppose your players.

Once you know the endgame, start again at the beginning and figure out where your players tie into it. Why are they trying to defeat the BBEG? This is where you look at the player's backstories and alignments. Maybe one of the characters lost their family in a house fire and lived as an orphan in a religious temple; you could say that your BBEG, the crime boss in this case, was the one who started the fire because the character's parents were in debt to him. And maybe another player has a past shrouded in mystery and a lawful-neutral alignment, making them the type of person who can't stand injustice. Maybe a third player doesn't have any ties, but is simply along for the ride with the party.

Don't worry too hard about this, though: most players don't need a motive to start attempting to dethrone your BBEG once they get a whiff of adventure.

Work your way forward, then. But be careful with how much you plan, because your players don't know what the plot of the story is, and they can entirely throw away that plot if they feel like it. Don't plan seven sessions into the future, just write out some ideas.

For example, begin with your first event, location, or clue. It should be unavoidable, like a murder or disappearance of a prominent figure, or in their faces like a large "WANTED" poster with their faces on it in the middle of the bar the campaign begins in. Begin with a good hook that catches their attention. Let them begin by exploring the town or room, talking to a character or two, and then drop the inciting incident on their heads.

Build this way until you have an outline of plot points. In our example, let's say we start with a sudden death of a very old member of the city council. Then the next plot point is the discovery that it's been a murder. Then the next comes when the characters are offered payment in return for discovering the killer. Then the next is a threatening note written in blood, hung on a character's bedroom wall with a knife. Then the players find a lead by analyzing the odd spelling of a certain word.

The story continues on like this. Notice how these plot points are, for the most part, not triggered by any actions a character makes. That gives you, the DM, a way to push your players back on track when they get distracted by a side quest that you didn't plan for. (Of course, let them have their fun, but not for longer than a session or two without advancing any of your story arcs!)

You'll find as you build the plot points that an idea for the locations start to form. Which shops there are, where the players will spend their time, etc.. Now you can begin to plot out these things and make a simple map of the area.

Finally, plan various monster encounters, NPC encounters, artifacts, quests, and discoveries! Your world should feel like a real place when your players interact with it.

This is an easy cheat, too! If your players go into a shop and- for whatever reason- end up in a fight with the shopkeep, you can simply pull out a pre-written NPC sheet and begin!

Same with monster encounters, quests, and discoveries. You don't need to write the details about every little tiny thing in your world... but you want it to feel like you did. From a tiny amulet hidden under a creaky floorboard to a mineshaft infested with tiny monsters, your world will feel rich wherever your players step if you've prepared things that can be used in multiple situations. (Plus, it makes them feel smart when they think they found a secret... when in reality that "secret" didn't have a location attached until they rolled high on an investigation check for a room you just made up.)

My last piece of advice is the one that's the most important: Do not fully plan your campaign... ever. You should not decide small details that won't matter for several sessions unless they're plot-relevant.

So, move with your players! Sometimes, a player will make a guess in the dark about some random NPC or a closed store, and it's so good that you decide to use it. Plan each new session after the previous one ends, keeping in mind your predetermined plot points (which are also, surprise surprise, subject to change!)

The real trick is that your players don't know what will happen three, two, or even one sessions into the future. If you change a part of the plot, they'll have no way of knowing. So have fun! Run wild, add and subtract as much to the plot as you'd like, and prepare to be driven up the wall by your players.

Good luck!

[nana-phobia]

A Stereotypical Love Story

Genre: Crack, Angst, Fluff, Suggestive, Slow Burn

Pairings: Rindou Haitani x FEM! Reader

TW: Reader is a Menace to society, strong language, a lot of sexual jokes, Mentions of Kisaki Tetta

A/N: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS TOPICS REGARDING N. KOREA AND INFILTRATING GOVERNMENT FILES WHICH IS HIGHLY FICTIONAL!! IF I MENTIONED SOMETHING WRONG ABOUT N. KOREA PLEASE TELL ME AND I WILL QUICKLY EDIT IT! THANK YOU!

Chapter 15 [Masterlist] Chapter 16 - PLAYLIST

"I know it's hard to trust me--"

"It's not hard to trust you, we just don't trust you. Period." Takeomi commented instantly, you turned to look at him and then at Hanma. Everyone started to hold their guns as Hanma reached for the inside of his tux but let out a sigh when they saw that he took out a white bulky envelope.

"Then am guessing you won't be needing this~" You taunted while playing with the envelope.

"What's that?" Mochi cautiously asked, you turned to look at him as you started to innocently flutter your eyes.

"Oh, this? This is the information about the traitor during the trade in Tokyo's loading dock which I heard from Mikey...This has been Sanzu's mission for a year now~" You cooed with a matching smirk on your face, Sanzu could only stare at you with his jaw drop then at Koko who was looking at you with disbelief.

Kakucho only looked at you then scoffed, Ran and Rindou didn't let their eyes off of you as they tried to see if you were lying but in their mind, they know it wasn't false...You do have the information on you.

"How the fuck did you get that? You said it yourself, It took me a year and I haven't found anything on the guy!?" Sanzu asked, you then turned to Hanma who happily distributed the folders to each and every one of them that he took out from his briefcase.

All of them slowly opened the folder and saw a picture of the traitor you were talking about, IT was his medical records but there wasn't anything on where his current location is now.

"I told you~ I know everything. Besides, All I did was hack the airport computers along with the CCTV camera's then that was it" You explained tiredly while keeping eye contact with Mikey who was sitting across from you.

Mikey slowly grabbed the folder Sanzu was holding and what he saw was much more detailed information of their prey.

"We just have to take you in and you'll give all the information we need?" Ran started, you turned to look at him with softened eyes. He stared back at you with an icy gaze which confused him a bit with how you stared at him in adoration, He knows he was quite good-looking but the way you stared at him was different, It wasn't lust nor was it love.

"Of course, you need to pay me as well since I have this strict ruling of no payment no info~ but you guys could pay so I don't think you would worry about the money so yes. Just approve of my offer with me joining" You added with a sly smirk.

Everyone in the room except for you and Hanma looked at each other before Koko let out an uneasy cough.

"R-raise your hand if you think we should try hiring Y/N..." He asked.

Mikey raised his hand which made you smile, the next one was Mochi then Takeomi, Sanzu, Kakucho, then the brothers, and Koko. Everyone was raising their hands in favor of you joining.

"Do you guys want to hear the information about your Mr. Traitor or maybe next time?" You asked.

"If you have time to spare we would very much need to know more about him..." Mikey stated, you then turned to look at Hanma who then looked at his watch. Lifting his head, he turned to look at Mikey with a playful grin.

"We have 30 minutes before we leave, Y/N has a conference meeting to attend and she can't miss it due to the important people that will attend the meeting" He explained, you patted Hanma's back and smiled at him to which he returned with his own smile.

You then handed Ran the envelope in your hands, he then opened the envelope to check what was inside. IT was pictures and a handwritten note from a piece of a notebook, he slowly handed it for everyone to check until it reached Mikey.

"The traitor during the trade in Tokyo's Loading dock's name is Lee Gi-Hyun, He's a South Korean, He's in his mid 20's and was accepted in bonten in the year 2010---"

"We already know that" Mochi stated, you shot him a glare.

"I know, It's called a briefing...You use it to jog someone's memory by stating the facts along with the newly added information" You replied with a smile, Mochi's lips formed a thin line as he proceeded to awkwardly look at the pictures.

"As I was saying...Lee Gi-Hyun fled away from japan after the trade. According to Sanzu's information that he gathered...He found out that he was paid by the police but that's all he found out--" You took a breath before standing up from your chair to walk around.

"How did you find out he fled the same day?" Rindou asked, you let out a giggle.

"Basic common sense, If you were to betray a famous organization like bonten with high morals and hate for traitors...I would mostly fly away and relocate with a snap of someone's finger" You replied, Rindou nodded slowly. Holding him by his shoulder, you leaned forward to the desk and grabbed the handwritten note while you walked over to Mikey and gave it to him.

"These are my notes that I took...Gi-Hyun relocated to North Korea and changed his name to Kang Han-Gyeol" You continued. Takeomi raised a brow and raised his hand, you looked his way to which he took it as a green light to speak.

"North Korea? Aren't they like a military-based country? From what I heard about them...wouldn't they screen him for any past criminal records?" He asked, you smiled sinisterly at him.

"That's a good question! what Takeomi said is right...North Korea is strict about the people entering their country especially if they were there to live there for the rest of their lives which led me to the conclusion that he probably asked the police and investigators that raided the trade to pay him not only with money but to clear all his criminal records and let him go..." Takeomi let out a hum in satisfaction.

"So in conclusion...he's in North Korea? Then what the hell are we waiting for? Let's kil--" You quickly slammed your hand infront of Sanzu and leaned over to him with a glare.

"Weren't you listening? I just said North Korea has a strict screening of people going in and out of their country. If you were to go there and commit a crime, you would die and there will be nowhere for you to go to for help and if Takeomi were to come with you...you both would be dead even if we did say, I hack government files to erase all your criminal records" You explained, Sanzu leaned forward until your noses were touching.

"Then you're saying we can't kill him?" He asked, you pulled away from him and headed back to your sit.

"I didn't say you wouldn't be able to kill him..." You added, Rindou raised a brow as he stared at you.

"You just said we can't go there how do you suppose we kill him?" The younger Haitani asked, you then replied with a giggle.

"I have Plan A and B...Plan A is me dumping all of Bonten's criminal records on his government records back in north Korea while Plan B consists of at least a few months or maybe years for him..." You snickered.

"Why would Plan B take that long?" Kakucho asked, you turned to look at him.

"Because it consists of manipulation for him to kill himself or maybe commit a crime so the government would kill him and then his family~" You replied, Kakucho then nodded.

Ran was about to ask you another question when Hanma's watch started to ring, indicating that the 30 minutes was already over.

You stood up from your sit and started to wear your mask again, everyone stood up and bowed at you, including Mikey.

"Thank you for the information Y/N...We would be happy to work with you from now on..." The short white-haired male added, you just replied with a hum and a smile before walking out.

As you and Hanma were talking about what to get for dinner, you heard someone call your name. Turning around you saw that it was Rindou walking towards you.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Taglist (OPEN): @rozcdust @hana-patata @bontens-whore @madness-kitten @tirzamisu @pretty-pop-princess-hs @soushswag @q-the-rockaholic @yvechu @bontensbabygirl @bontensbasement @ryungsblog

[shootingstarwritings]

Couples Therapy

Marcus glanced at his client before going back to his notes. As usual, it was a young woman who looked as though she was on the verge of tears after giving him a mile-long list of grievances towards her husband. For the first few years, everything was like an eternal honeymoon until the two began to drive the other crazy. From the little info Marcus had, the blame seemed to rest on two personalities that didn't feel like compromising—as it usually was.

However, compromises didn’t put food on Marcus’ table, so it was in his best interest to pin the blame all on the husband. “Like my services advertise,” he told the wife, Julia, while sliding a sheet of his talents over to her, “I can fix your marriage to be as blissful as it was on your wedding night. All I need is your consent and I can shape your lover as you need him to be.”

The tears soon dried up. "Um, huh…?" Julia grew sheepish as her eyes skimmed over the sheet. Not good. "Shape him? My friend said your type of work was unique, but changing my husband…? I didn't hear anything about that."

Tilting his head, Marcus said, "Did you not notice how your friend's partner changed? He was happier, more agreeable, and far more pleasant overall. Always carried a strong conversation and had the manners of a perfect gentleman. Don't you want the same for your husband?"

“I-I thought you just gave them counseling!” Julia stood up from her chair, hands clasping her purse as though Marcus was a violent, money-hungry criminal. “This is crazy. A-And, honestly absurd. I'll have no part in this lunacy!"

“So you’re okay with your husband’s divorce?”

Julia stopped just before her hand reached the door. Though she didn't turn around, she said, "What do you mean?" Her voice was tinged with fear despite her attempts to hide it.

“When you made your appointment, I did a little digging on your husband,” said Marcus, lying as naturally as he breathed. “Digging into his soul, of course. My abilities allow me to do so.”

He stood up and strode over to Julia. “He’s growing increasingly dissatisfied with your union. Every little action, every little word, every little annoyance from you pushes him more and more towards the arms of another.” While Marcus remained stone-faced, he was smirking inside as beads of sweat cascaded down Julia’s brow. 

Perfect.

“A young woman your age already divorced? What will the neighbors think? Your friends? Your family? But,” he shrugged and made his way back to his desk, “if you insist that you don’t need my services, I can do nothing about that. I sincerely wish the two of you a happy marriage. However long it lasts.”

Julia excused herself to go to the bank but promised she would return with the payment.

Marcus’ target was a man by the name of Trevor. Attractive, admirable, and breakable. All it would require was a few weeks in his body and Marcus’ job would be finished. Julia had signed the contract, so his body was completely available.

That was the limit to Marcus’ powers. Without some sort of consent from one who at the very least shared the name or a bond with his target, he was unable to do anything. Now, all Marcus had to do was take over Trevor’s body.

But first, Marcus was curious about what was going to happen in their ordinary lives. While Julia had given him a whole list of things that she wished Trevor would do, Marcus skimmed it before throwing it away. For the most part, his clients didn't know what they wanted—and what they did was something ridiculous like 'makes me breakfast in bed every single day.' It was all nonsense straight out of a soap opera. Marcus preferred to just take a look at what pissed his client off and doing a few favors here and there. The only part of Julia's list that Marcus even remotely paid attention to was, "Being more open to pegging."

Other than that, Marcus would just sit by and watch how a typical morning went for the couple. He made his way to the address Julia had provided him during their meeting in an astral form and peeked into their lives.

“God, another spill, Jules?” Trevor groaned as he looked down at his stained pants. “C'mon." While Julia let out a stream of apologies, Trevor just rolled his eyes and said, "I'm trying to get a goddamn promotion here!"

“I-I’m trying…!” Julia said, backing up as Trevor grabbed the empty mug and smashed it on the ground. “Th-That was mine...”

“And so’s the mess,” Trevor shot back. “When you’re the breadwinner in this relationship, you can decide what does and doesn’t get broken.” With that, Trevor left to get changed while Julia cleaned up the kitchen.

That was all Marcus needed to see. The bastard needed a major attitude adjustment. His wife was a complete klutz, but there was no need to bite her head off for making a mistake. Marcus didn't feel any particular sympathy for Julia, but assholes like Trevor pissed him off to no extent. "Only natural," Marcus said to himself. "Assholes hate assholes. Don't like pricks like him on my turf."

Floating over to Trevor and Julia’s room, he admired the assets he would borrow for the next few days. Trevor’s pants were off, allowing Marcus to get a nice glimpse of the package he would be showing off for the next few days. Along with that were nice, juice thighs and a good chest peeking out of the nice polo shirt he wore. No longer able to resist, Marcus just dove towards Trevor.

"HNNG! What the fuuuuck?!" Trevor moaned as Marcus phased through his back. Entire body tensing up, Trevor stood in place, his back arching while his head was thrown back. Feet planted to the floor, he moaned in pleasure and panic. "Wh-Who the hell?! What the—HAA! Ahhh…! What the fuck are youuuu?!" Unable to keep his balance amidst the barrage of pain and pleasure mixing, Trevor collapsed onto his bed, convulsing uncontrollably as the foreign intruder wore him like a suit.

“Mmm,” Marcus moaned, rubbing his hard-on against the mattress. “Oh, that’s niiice. Thanks, Julia.” Still face-down on the bed, he spread his legs and let his hands wander towards a certain untouched hole. “Don’t worry, I’ll turn your hubby into the subbiest bottom in town.”

Purposefully ignoring Julia, Marcus left the house and headed towards Trevor’s place of work, relying on muscle memory and the information Julia had given him for navigation. Eventually, he arrived at some fancy insurance firm full of suits who looked like they could use a healthy dose of Viagra.

Once more, Marcus relied on Trevor's muscle memory to guide his way through work. And once settled into Trevor's impersonal cubicle, Marcus began his work. At once, he worked on smiling more in Trevor's body. Man was a creature of habit and the human mind was a sponge for information and mannerisms. Because of that, Marcus would adopt certain behaviors for the week or so he would be in his hosts' bodies. The end result was a spouse that would compliment their partner far more.

On all levels, it was wrong. However, Marcus continued without losing a wink of sleep.

After making sure Trevor was smiling more, Marcus also stretched and relaxed his muscle. "God, you're so tense," he mentioned as he rolled his shoulders back. "Or, I'm so tense." Grinning, Marcus continued chatting to himself. It was always fun getting into a role. Perhaps it was his theater kid days, but adopting a new identity was always fun. "I should get more into yoga," he said, stretching as much as he could in that uncomfortable suit. "Do some squats. It'll help me make my ass all nice and firm. Flexibility'll be nice in the bedroom for Jules," he proclaimed, repeating it to himself to make sure it remained imprinted to Trevor.

To make sure those thoughts remained in Trevor's head, Marcus headed off to the gym after each workday. He worked until Trevor's already well-developed muscles were pleasurably sore by the time he arrived back home. "Keep acting as though I'm Trevor," Marcus had texted Julia before. "It'll make it easier for these thoughts to stick to your husband." His words didn't ease Julia's awkwardness, but Marcus didn't mind. Working with pathetic actors wasn't anything new for him.

By the final day of Marcus' planned stay, Trevor's boss called him into his office. "You're not in trouble," his boss, a man by the name of Arthur said. "Just wanted to catch up with you, is all." His words were even, but Marcus noticed that his gaze was not. Arthur's eyes kept traveling and his fingertips kept grazing Trevor as much as they could while retaining that facade of professionalism. "I've noticed your recent change in attitude. Rumors travel quickly throughout the office."

“When there’s not much to talk about,” Marcus began, “it’s easy to become the talk of the town.”

Arthur cocked an eyebrow. “Your attitude and your tongue’s changed, Trey. I'm surprised but pleased. Productivity for the whole office has gone up this week. And your more positive attitude has really helped with that. I've noticed the environment in general is a lot less toxic."

“Sorry about that, sir,” Marcus said with a curt nod. Yet, he made sure to keep a cocky, inviting smirk on his face. The blood was rushing to Arthur’s cheeks despite his stony expression. “Hadn’t realized how much my attitude had an impact on the office. But I’m sure you’ll be just as satisfied as my wife about the new me.” By now, Marcus was happily rubbing his thighs, making sure they stood out alongside his bulge in those tight slacks he had purchased for Trevor. During the week, he had made a habit of dropping his things and bending over to reach for them in front of his various coworkers. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, he was certain about the office spent more than half a second staring at Trevor’s assets.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Nonetheless, just wanted to show my appreciation for this sudden turn. Always happy to see my workers in a relaxed, pleasant environment.”

Standing up, Marcus leaned in close to Arthur’s lips. “I can think of a few other ways you can show your appreciation, boss,” he whispered, unbuckling his belt. This same scenario had played out so many times Marcus was certain his gaydar was impeccable. “Why don’t you bend me over your desk and show me who the boss is?”

Arthur hesitated for about a second before locking the office door and tying Trevor’s mouth shut with his own tie. “Take! This! You! Slut!” Arthur roared as he pounded Trevor’s ass raw. Marcus, back arched, face pressed up against the cold desk, just moaned like a slut. He eagerly met each of Arthur’s thrust with his strong workout for his hips.

This is my favor for you, Julia, he thought as Arthur pulled on his hair. Your husband’s hole might not be as tight as you want it to be, but he’ll definitely be up for stuff up his ass by the time I leave.

"Make me your bottom bitch," Marcus begged, trapped in a nirvana of pleasure and pain.

The next time Marcus saw Julia and Trevor the two of them were walking down the back, arms linked. Both were smiling and laughing so animatedly that Marcus was certain the songbirds were jealous. On occasion, he spotted Julia lightly slapping Trevor's ass and her husband reddening like a tomato at the sensation.

Marcus returned home satisfied at another successful trip.

[han-shinsuke]

ɢᴇᴛᴏ sᴜɢᴜʀᴜ x ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Desperate to burden you more with thoughts and a few of his hard rubbing, Geto places himself between your legs and rubs his tip against your flushed lips down there, throwing you on the edge of torturous sensation. “Ge–Geto... please...” when he gets his desired reaction from you, a low chuckle emerges from him. To his kind, hearing a lady moaned softly was rewardingly good. And you did good, moaning his name like that.

🔞🌹 “does it hurt?” his tune was different compared to the normal tone he uses in class. There was a faint smell of concern in it and for a second, you wanted to believe that he cares for you for having his thing installed balls deep into you. The sheet is wet and so the pillow case where you had been muffling your moans and tears. You cried out the pain, digging your nails against your own flesh since your hands were tied behind your back while he was there, above your bareback, big hands gripping tightly on your waist as he makes sure you’d be filled with his arousal. One more long and strong push of his hips, you found yourself trembling from pain and an ounce of pleasure from his final assault. Geto withdrawn his shaft from your swollen anusx and he carefully rolled you on your back, checking your condition. “Does it hurt?” as if to make fun of your struggles, he asks again, swiping his thumb against your swollen lips. This may sounds funny but you couldn’t help but asked yourself if there were any part of you that hadn’t been touched and sucked by him. Probably, there’s none. Because Geto Suguru never missed. Putting your state in consideration, he feels obliged to answer his own inquiry, “of course, it hurts. I was your first, ms. front row.” You stared at his face, drained and in pain. If only you could wipe his smirk off his handsome face, you would. Sadly, you can’t. You need to stabilize your breathing and regain some energy in order to leave his estate. Though it feels impossible but you must. “G–get off me.” You gave him an undisturbed look, thinking of some effective ways to get to the bus station to not miss its last trip. Desperate to burden you more with thoughts and a few of his hard rubbing, Geto places himself between your legs and rubs his tip against your flushed lips down there, throwing you on the edge of torturous sensation. “Ge–Geto... please...” when he gets his desired reaction from you, a low chuckle emerges from him. To his kind, hearing a lady moaned softly was rewardingly good. And you did good, moaning his name like that. “Here’s the money,” again, the guilt was eating you up. Geto hands you the amount you both agreed on. You were no different from those department harlots who jumped on men like Suguru. “I’ll shower first, just wait here.” You got no time to waste so when he enters the bathroom, you put on your crumpled uniform, left his huge bedroom, painfully went through wide hallways and numerous staircases. As you stared back at the tall and automated gate, another slap from reality had hit you hard. Suguru Geto is reality miles away from the mud you’re in. You have reached the station on time. Luckily, the last bus hasn’t arrived yet so you took the chance to sleep in the shed. Fuck life. It will take a dozen of painkiller to calm your wrecked flesh and disturbed nerves, you thought. 🌹 “Your balance has been settled, Ms. Y/N.” The registrar shows you the updated payment of your account and you were not happy or pleased by it. You had someone in mind and just the thought of it, you can feel the anger and insult building inside of you. As usual, he’s there, surrounded by his kind. Women lurking around him as if they are there like an options for Geto to pick who knows who. He raises an arm, waving at you. You answered by nodding your head. Your knuckles turned white as he flashes you an innocent grin. The chair on the front row creates a screeching noise as you sat on it. You were so mad right now. Maybe throwing a shoe to his direction can lessen the fuming anger in you but you’re not that kind of person. You settled things privately. Just wait, Geto. You fucking wait and I’ll burn you alive. “Happy Birthday,” a hand put a protein bar and a can of chilled coffee on your desk. There’s no need to look at the giver. The bite mark on his wrist is enough to identify him. You were the one who put it on him last night. Your gaze follows Geto’s back as he returns to the back row. The place where strength and power lies. At twenty, you sold your dignity to

Geto Suguru. Now that you turned twenty one, you have promised that would be the first and last time you’ll use your innocence to overcome a problem. 🌹 “You’ve paid me well, Suguru, but I don’t accept tip for my service.” He didn’t speak. He must be in a state of shock after receiving a slap from you. After the exam, you confronted him and lashed out your anger from his doings. “I’m returning the money you had given last night. Thank you for the kind gesture.” You said in a very sarcastic tone. 🌹🔞 Suguru Geto is an heir. Unlike the other, he has no records of bad memories or any sad untold stories. The life his parents had given him was very ideal and perfect. He has friends and loved by many. And from those infos, you have come up with a thought that maybe, due to the perfectly laid out plan of his life, Suguru is trying to create a fault in his flawless existence. A fault that made you so eager to avoid him, that no matter where you tried to look at it, you’re a trial for him. Would he mind if you’ll be found in front of his doorstep, soaking and looks like a real shit? Well, that’s what he was looking for! A shit to jump in! “Geto!” he looks beautiful when he opened the door for you. The spotless white shirt he was wearing is now covered with dirt. Suguru returns your action, hugging you close against his body. “What happened?” his question after closing the door. Instead of answering, you just tightened the embrace around him and bit your lips to suppress your cry. “No–nothing... I’m sorry for barging in so late at night.” You tried to sound convincing and smiled. Your hand reached for the knob but Geto pulls you back, cupping your face between his warm hands. That’s the moment you gave in, face contorting as you cried helplessly while gripping his shirt. That’s all you need. Someone who can ask with sympathy. Someone who cares. For now, Suguru seems to care for you that’s why you let yourself cried in front of him. That moment, he looks and he feels like someone you can rely on with all the shits happening around you. You told him everything in details, not missing a part of it. You slept with him in exchange of some bucks. Gave your innocence with the man you thought who deserves it and that was him, Suguru Geto. Rather than selling it with your obsessed landlord, who also threatened to kill you if you refuse to bed him, you ran for your life, escaping the hell hole you have been in. You just wanted to graduate in college, make it until graduation but life have forced you to your limit. “I would rather die than to sleep with a psycho,” you confessed to him. You needed money and without those shit, you will not make it. You were so desperate to live. So desperate for a safe environment. You couldn’t even call your parents and tell them about your misfortunes for they are as well struggling to live, to sustain their needs. “You can stay here,” suddenly he suggested. “For free. No hidden charges.” He jokes. “I will be useful.” You ensures him. “You’re already are.” Geto smiles, tucking your hair behind your right ear. 🌹🔞⚠️ Whe he says, no hidden charges, there were really not. Guess, he doesn’t like the idea of tasting the same food he had before. You have been living with him for almost a month now but he’s not making a move to you. He lends you a spacious room and that made you felt lonely and cold. There was a time when Suguru brought a woman from the engineering department and you happened to witness their make out session in the kitchen one night. You were so embarrassed then apologized to them. As of the moment, you’re in the barn house, feeding his two pet horses while wearing the dress that Geto bought for you. “Y/N–” he swallows his words upon seeing you leaning forward in one of the stables, reaching the harness to check it. Suguru grits his teeth, seeing your thighs and curves are too much for him. Suddenly, he regretted purchasing the cerulean dress that fits perfectly on you. Your throat felt dry. You were familiar with the heat oozing from his

gaze. You’ve seen that during your first time with him. He walks to you, grabbing your hand, dragging you to the second level of the barn where you were slammed against the wooden wall. You cried in pain but immediately silenced by rough and hungry kisses of Suguru. At first, you couldn’t find the will to kiss him back but by just a lick on your bottom lip, you found yourself opening up for him, tilting your head to the side to give him easy access to your mouth. “Geto... ” his name slipped from your lips, pushing your own tongue into his, determined to play with his expert ones. He hummed between the kiss, supporting your chin through his forefinger. Suguru is really tall that you had to tiptoe to reach his mouth and kiss him back with same intensity. You gathered up enough courage and Suguru, himself, didn’t saw it coming. You caught him by surprised, pulling him down to you to suck on his bottom lip and lick it afterwards. “Fuck, babe.” He breathes when you released his mouth. Time for another surprise, you guided him to the nearest storage box and motioned to sit. You stopped him in the middle because you had to remove his pants and boxers. As soon as he settled, naked, Suguru holds your hair for you when you started sucking his thing. His moans and heavy breaths filled the space and your wet sucking sounds rings louder as he guides your face up and down to his erection covered in your saliva. You raised a hand when his grip tightened on your hair, almost like crashing your mouth with his hard and thick head that had been knocking your pipe pretty hard every time he goes balls deep in your mouth. You coughed helplessly as he frees you, gagging from the overwhelming thickness of his manhood. Geto cups your face and stares at you with malice before kissing you torridly, so eager to drown you with his lips and tongue that you accepted wholeheartedly. “Can I fuck you against the wall and tie you up as well?” a part of you shivered but you didn’t say ‘no’. He takes that as a ‘yes’ so you watched yourself slowly levitating from being tied up and held possessively by Suguru’s strong arms. You gasped for air when he enters your pretty tight hole in one swift push and managed to knock against your womb. “You’re so big, Geto aah!” your head fell back, the feeling of his throbbing manhood inside you is suffocating. You gasped again, sweats rolling down your neck as you let yourself adjust from his size. Geto licks your collarbone, nipping his lips against your skin up to your neck where he gets a taste of your tears and sweats, “really? You think I’m big? I feel honoured, babe.” He sucks the hollow on your neck and pulls slowly. Your eyes widened, feeling how a simple movement can stretch your rim wide open. “Aahhnnggg~ Ge–Getooo... ” You tugged your arms against the shackles, another pain inflicted upon you. And then there’s another pain, and it was a long one. He pushes fast, stretching you inside by installing deep inside of you, causing your hips to tremble when he smacks your ass and gropes you hard. As you can noticed, Suguru was being careful not to ruin the dress, the straps were rolled down just below your shoulder and he perfectly exposes your breasts, nipplesx really hard and red. For the second time in a row, your head fell back when he dips down your chest, sucking in a nipplesx while swirling his tongue around it. Geto. Geto. You went crazy and delirious. He’s attending your needy titsx with his thirsty mouth, biting the skin around it then going back to sucking the two buds alternately like a child. When he’s done showering your bosoms with attention, Suguru goes back to pushing further inside you, pulling his shaft roughly and then again, he never gets tired rutting you with his thing, slamming your hips against his hips. He was using different paces in stretching you wide so when he feels your breathing returning to normal, he would suddenly thrust his rod in and out of you roughly, making you gasp for air. “My arms feels numb, Geto ooohhh god!” you cried again, bursting into tears

when you felt him grinding his hips against yours while unloading his jizz. He stops moving for awhile but his loads are still oozing from his tip. “Okay, babe aahh~ hold tight.” Geto says, removing the shackles then locking your arms around his neck. Just when you thought it’s over, he lays you on the dust covered floor, folds you in half, hips ramming deep as he continues spilling his seeds into your cunt. He shoots you, with his long strings of arousal, fucked hard in a breathless mating press position. You’re just a dust in Suguru Geto’s universe. 🌹 Your surrounding turned pitch black with scattered stars in the night sky. You expected the moon to smile down at you but it was the greater creation who have his eyes on you. Universe taking his time looking at a particular dust. “where are we heading to?” you asked, blinking. He stops to carry you properly in his arms before answering, “home, Y/N.” Your eyes fell to the place you’ve been to. The door was left unlocked. “You forgot to lock the barn, Geto.” “They would not think of escaping, babe. They’re drawn to me and they are loyal to me.” You turned to the night sky once again, mesmerized by its beauty, you asked him a weird question, “since the door isn’t locked, then I’m free to go whenever I want to?” “Well, if it’s about you leaving my land, then expect some changes in the security. I can be selfish at times, Y/N.” “What do you meant by that, Geto?” “I just don’t think I’m capable of letting you go anymore.” ❤️