#one a winner and game executive

[chaosordoffl]

THAT'S!!!! HIS BABY!!!

[rimouskis]

I am genuinely upset about Andi! WTF is FSG doing? She's one of the best in the entire league! The pens online presense was top tier but with ITR gone last year, and now Andi, I don't have any idea what their plans are. Please let Jen be safe! I'm sure Andi will find a place. I'm not too worried for her. The Pens media department tho

I really wish her the best in whatever she does next. She was at the helm at the peak of the Pens' social media engagement and prominence, and while that fell off as she ascended the ladder and became a VP/further removed from the day-to-day posting, I think she did a ton of good work here.

I'll be very interested in how the department reconfigures in her absence. There seem to be a lot of power vacuums right now, with lots of people with long tenures at the Pens departing. Part of me hopes there's a chance for young blood; other teams have been doing more innovative, more curious, and more creative stuff in terms of their media. While losing legacy employees is a loss, I can only hope that there's an infusion of youthful, out-of-the-box thinking coming our team's way. It's the best we can hope for.

[lumiambrose]

✰ the winning hand

kinktober 24 - day twelve

featuring: aventurine x f!reader

summary: you were taken by surprise when the aventurine of the ten stonehearts requests a private match from you. although, a gamble with him requires high stakes, and even higher rewards.

tags: smut, gambling, praise, degredation (if you reaaally squint), p in v, cunnilingus, use of sex toys, public sex, petnames (sweet girl, pretty, doll), not proofread (i drank too much last night mb fam)

wc: 2.2k

“so the winner of this next round takes all?” you clarify, unsure if the man in front of you has gone insane.

“spot on, pretty. if you win, i’ll be your loyal servant for the rest of the night. although if i win… you’ll be mine.” yeah. he’s lost it.

you’re currently in a private sector for the eclipse’s executives. it’s slightly elevated from the rest of the floor, almost like a private balcony with a gorgeous view of the grand casino. how you ended up here? you don’t even know. you were sipping on a sweet cocktail when aventurine, one of the ten stonehearts, requested a game from you. his assistant didn’t give you time to react as he led you away from the central casino and toward a far more private, lavish, hall.

ever the gentleman he is, aventurine picked you up there and stole you away to the balcony you now find yourself at. seeing as it was too late to decline, you figured you should get the most out of this experience as he explained the rules to you.

a standard game of poker shouldn’t be too hard, right? is what you tell yourself, despite struggling immensely against the man in front of you. you’ve only won… twice? out of the many rounds you’ve played and you’re getting worried, you can’t keep losing like this. almost on cue, aventurine suggests one final round to decide the winner, which is how you’ve ended up in your current predicament.

you eye the cards in your hand, desperately trying to keep your expression neutral. aventurine lounges across from you, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, his other hand casually toying with his chips. he’s confident. too confident.

“ready, pretty?” he’s teasing you at this point. the dealer, not making a sound, reshuffles the cards before sliding them your way. you glance at your hand and immediately regret your decision, but you don’t lose hope just yet.

the dealer reveals the first three cards on the table: jack of diamonds, queen of clubs, seven of spades. your stomach drops. aventurine smirks. it’s over.

with a hand like this, you shouldn’t even bet, but you go all in anyway, hoping the bluff works. of course, it doesn’t. he meets your bet, then raises.

the final card flips. king of hearts.

aventurine reveals his hand—ace and ten.

a straight.

you blink, stunned. aventurine leans forward, that damn smirk widening, “looks like you’re mine now.”

this was it, your fate had been sealed. only god knows what this man has planned for you. you let out a long sigh, accepting your defeat before locking eyes with him, waiting for his orders.

with a quick snap of his fingers, the dealer leaves the room, disappearing through the door without a word. “stand up,” you oblige, adjusting your short dress and hair as you rise from your chair, facing him. he does a one-over on your body, taking in every inch and curve, staring like a starved man.

the room suddenly feels much smaller as you’re left in aventurine’s company. he’s still lounging on the sofa before you, but this time, a more terrifying aura radiates from him. 

his next command is simple. with a predatory smile and commanding tone, he orders, “your panties, take them off.”

for a second, you thought you didn’t hear him right. you hesitate for a moment, but the look in his eyes leaves no room for argument. slowly, you reach through your skirt, your hands trembling slightly as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and push them down.

he holds out his hands, glancing at the panties before his gaze shifts back to you. you hand them to him as a blush creeps up your cheeks. his hand grazes yours as he takes them from you, stuffing them into his pocket with a victorious smile playing on his lips.

“oh, one more thing,” he reaches over to a small box resting on the table, opening it and taking out a small vibrator. “you’re a smart girl so i’m sure you understand what i’m getting at. if you manage a few games without cumming, i might even reward you,” he coos. “you like the sound of that, doll?”

even if you wanted to refuse, you know you couldn’t. begrudgingly, you put the vibrator in your, now naked, pussy, letting out a soft sigh as it enters you. as much as you should be disgusted right now, you’re filled with nothing but adrenaline facing the man in front of you. the fear that you once had now slowly turning into excitement.

he sets up the next round of poker, shuffling a new deck of cards and sliding some your way. “no need to bet with chips anymore, if you manage to win as much as one game, i’ll make sure you’re cumming on me tonight.” his voice suddenly shifts into a darker tone “although, if you fail… we’ll keep up this little game of ours until you're begging on your knees for me.”

the hums of the vibrator fill the room as he turns it on from the small remote in his hand. any fear you should’ve felt from his threat going straight to your core, letting out a small moan at the danger.

the next few hours we’re nothing but agonising pain. you played his cruel game, as he abused the power he had over you, making you crumble for him. you were close? too damn bad, he turned the vibrator off, leaving you whimpering in agony. you tried bluffing? he saw right through it and set the vibrator to pulse inside of you, only switching it back to normal once you confessed your lie. sometimes you’d even be so distracted by the sweet pleasure between your thighs that your hand would accidentally slip, giving aventurine a complete view of your cards. but lady luck was on your side today as somehow, somehow, you beat him. maybe he let you and you didn’t notice as you were too distracted by the vibrating pleasure or perhaps you just got lucky. either way, you celebrated your victory, excited for what came ahead.

“congratulations, sweetheart,” he leaves the sofa for the first time tonight, slowly approaching you. “i’m a man of my word,” he kneels in front of you, pushing your legs apart. “i won’t stop until you’re cumming all over my tongue.”

without any further warning, he removes the vibrator, leaving you empty, only to replace it with his tongue.

he eats you out like it’s his last day alive. sucking, biting and slurping on your pussy. “so good,” he muffles, “you taste so fucking good.”

he continues to lap your folds, stuffing your cunt with his tongue and sometimes nibbling on your clit. he’s so shameless too, not attempting to hide any noises he makes while drinking you up. the longer he eats you out, the more dissolved his words get. filthy encouragements and teasing praises slowly turning into incoherent babbles, growling against your cunt. each vibration going straight toward your impending orgasm.

“you close, pretty? can feel you shaking around my tongue,” he says with one last lick on your folds before you come undone all over his face. your orgasm hits you like a wave, your juices crashing down on aventurine’s mouth.

he pulls back, slowly rising from his knees. “fuck– you taste divine,” he licks any excess juices from his face, “could eat this pretty pussy every day.” he grabs your hand, pulling you up from your chair and bringing you to the sofa he was once lounging on, “but that wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?” he bends you over with your back to the casino table, giving you a perfect view of the central casino.

“try not to attract too much attention, sweet girl.” with that, he hikes up your tiny dress and enters you in one slow, painful thrust. you moan at the sensation, definitely attracting a few curious eyes from below, but you’re in to deep to care anymore. he lets out a sigh of relief as he bottoms out, feeling your tight cunt already squeezing him.

“hah– so tight f’me,” he started to rock into you at a slow pace, taking his sweet time destroying you. as much as he desperately wanted to give into his primal urges, rutting into like there’s no tomorrow, he wanted to keep his promise. he wanted you to completely come apart on his dick, turning you into his little fucked-out doll. his one hand rest on your hip, keeping him steady as he moves inside you while the other snakes its way down to your clit, teasing your overstimulated bud.

the pleasure is overwhelming, leading you closer to your orgasm by the second, moaning out praises for the blonde behind you. “aah~ so good– i’m so close!” you can barely get the words out, but once you do, he can’t hold back anymore. “gonna make a mess on my dick, pretty?” he speeds up, thrusting at a faster pace, fingers working harder too.

“you close, doll?” he vibrates against your ear, “that’s my good girl… go on, cum on my dick, make a mess for me.” 

that was all it took to push you over the edge, you clenched him tightly as your second orgasm hit you. moaning out his name as you gripped the balcony railing, letting yourself come undone for him. it didn’t take him long until he was also reaching his high, swiftly pulling out and releasing his cum all over your ass and back, staining your dress.

after he releases his grasp on you, you collapse on the sofa, breathless and still sensitive from the little game you both played. he takes his place next to you, moving your legs to rest on his lap. “looks like your dress is stained,” he traces a line down your leg. “give me your number. i’ll arrange a replacement.”

after exchanging numbers, you clean yourself up as much as possible before heading to the exit.

“oh, and sweetheart,” he calls out to you before you can leave. “call me when you want your rematch.”

taglist: @ryescapades @iamjellyfish @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[violetarks]

I read your most recent post and am deeply sorry for this ask..

Could you maybe write chishiya x reader fluff? Like it's cuddles and words stuff like that?

"scoot over."

show: alice in borderland

character: chishiya shuntaro

summary: after a hard game, you decide to unwind. the hatter throws another party, but chishiya is only interested in finding out why you weren't attending.

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov

a/n: no amount of apologies could atone to your mistake. (im joking, thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy!!)

"well done." you hear your assigned partner for the last game, ann, say to you. she pats your back gently, fixing her sunglasses on her nose. "only a handful of cards left now."

you sigh out, craning your neck to relieve some tension, "thanks, ann. you too, you were great. i just can't wait to leave this place..."

she didn't know whether you speaking about the borderlands or the beach. the place was always loud and cheerful, and while that was a nice change in pace for the world they were in, sometimes somebody just needed some good peace and quiet.

but ann only removes her hand from your back, walking off towards her room. "i understand. get some rest."

a silent 'thank you' is said as you walk pass the atrium, looking down the hallway to see the crowds of people and hatter presenting the card you had just won and returned. everyone cheered, music starting up again as hatter claims another party is to be thrown.

to the beach! grab your towels and find some booze! it's time to celebrate another win!

you see the other executives standing behind him, nodding their heads and following to the party. but instead of joining, you rub your face and stifle a yawn. your room was further from the pools, so you could have some quiet.

sweat dripped down your back and you pull the collar of your summer shirt, trying to blow some cold air down your chest. why did the game have to be held in an open field, with no shade, while it was scorching hot. it's a wonder how ann managed to look so put together in such heat.

reaching your room was a safe haven, and you closed your door to flop onto your bed with ease. the promptly grabbed the remote and turned on the air conditioning, sighing dreamily at how the cold air hit your hot skin. it was almost too good to be true, how the electricity was still on. they hadn't checked on the generator in a while.

it isn't long until you hear the faint laughter and music coming from the party. it was a normal occurrence at this point, and you were glad that not many people partied inside the hotel. it gave you time to close your eyes and get into a comfortable position to sleep in.

there's a whisper of knocks at your door.

"who is it?" you groan, wiping your eyes.

the person replies, "astroboy."

you sit up, running fingers through your hair as you retort, "come in." chishiya marches through the door, closing it behind him. he crosses his arms over his chest as he studies you. "what do you need?"

"i just came by to congratulate the winner of the last game." he states, watching you crawl back under the first thin layer of blanket on your double bed, "the eight of clubs. always knew you were the trusting type."

with your back to him, you talk, "i trust you, don't i? that's risky enough."

"ann told us that you were the leader in that game. i'm impressed." chishiya compliments, coming closer and picking up the small teddy keychain on your beside table. you had found a ball machine and a broken one, so using the coins from that, you won yourself a blue teddy keychain. chishiya told you to just get them all, but you said one was enough. "i thought you would be down there celebrating with everyone else."

you shake your head, yawning, "i'm too tired to go out there. i'm staying in my room for the night to sleep."

"oh, is that so?" he hums, putting the keychain down, "i'm the same. i can't be bothered watching them out there in this weather. it's agonising."

you nod your head in agreement, laying on your back. chishiya was always a nice guy that you were close with. he was sarcastically smart and sometimes got on your nerves. he was lucky you were so fond of him, he would've been kicked out of here if it weren't for that.

"wanna' stay?" you ask, looking to the ceiling.

"with you?" he mumbles.

"no, we'll do a room swap—yes with me, idiot." you grumble out, turning around again.

chishiya grins at your tone before muttering, "scoot over."

you do so. it's silent for two seconds before he does lay beside you. you can feel the heat radiating off him, so close that chishiya could see the hair blowing in your face from the air conditioning.

"what's wrong?" he asks, looking to the back of your head. you reply that 'it's nothing', but chishiya isn't buying it. "you usually at least stop by at every one of these parties. common courtesy for you. are you that tired?"

you don't say anything to him at first, but then, you turn around and lock eyes with the blonde. chishiya is on his back, he sees how you knit your brows in irritation.

"do you miss home?" you question, playing with the blanket, "our real home?"

"of course, who doesn't? these games dwindle our numbers and we don't even know why we're here." chishiya states, looking unbothered by what he said, "it's a fascinating world, though."

"it's a prison." you mumble into the blanket. your knee nudges his thigh, and chishiya lays a hand on the pillow, in between the both of you. staring at his fingers, you reach out and put your palm over his, gently. "i miss home."

"what was your home like?" he questions, eyed tracing your every breath.

"it was quieter than here. i used to cook with the tv going on in the background so it didn't sound like i was alone and that somebody was in the other room watching." you claimed, closing your eyes for a second, "but it was also really nice being by myself. my friends used to take me out all the time because i was a 'homebody'. all i had was work and home."

chishiya chuckles, brushing fingers over your knuckles, "that was just like me. i only had my work. and i worked at the hospital more than i spent time at home. my apartment was a good walk away, so i saw no point, y'know?"

you let out a hum, staring at your hands, "if we lived together, we'd barely see each other."

he smiles softly, nodding once. "i guess you're right."

"but it's still nice living by yourself. cooking for one, cleaning for one." you comment, suddenly missing your bedroom and your living room and kitchen. all that you were surrounded by before. "i've never spent a whole lot on groceries either, only as much as i needed. you don't need to do more than yourself. and there's nobody else to worry about..."

you were so tired. you missed being able to sleep in and not having to go to bed early because you had a death-defying game to play the next day. you missed not having to think about your life to intricately. you missed your actual life.

"you wouldn't have to worry about me." chishiya says, and your eyes open to see the blonde looking back at you with certainty. his hand clutches yours warmly. "i wouldn't make you worry."

"you promise?" you ask quietly, knitting your brows.

"if you want me to." he tells you. your brows upturn. "i promise."

chishiya was the most normal thing about your life right now. someone who just likes to see you around every now and again. more often than he'd like to admit. but he was so warm and considerate.

a swift movement of yours has arms around chishiya's neck, hugging him close to your chest as your bury your face into his hair. he lets out a small huff at the action before hands rest on your hips, snaking to around your waist. the blanket nearly covers all of chishiya, and he feels your hot skin shiver twice before calming down. he rubs your back gently as your shoulders relax.

"when we get back, you'll find me?" you ask, hopeful.

he can hear your heartbeat grow faster. "you will." he responds.

"tell me about your life?" you request.

he hums, leaning back and facing the ceiling again. you scoot closer, keeping an arm stretched across his chest and laying your head on his shoulder. "med student. i work with patients requiring transplants and people on waiting lists, but i'm an all round." he explains, "my apartment is of decent size. i have a spare bedroom that i keep all extra storage in. my study is filled. i have to say, it is nice living alone."

you nod your head, and chishiya goes on, "i usually get breakfast on the way to work; just one sugar and a quarter milk, or sometimes i just get black coffee with two sugars." he can tell you're only half listening, from the way you're playing with the strings of his jacket. but he doesn't mind. "on my breaks, i go to this takeout place across from the hospital. they sell my favourite meat buns, i always buy at least two."

he taps your back, twice you note. and you look up at him. "when we get out of here, remind me to show you." he says, "it can be our spot."

you stare at him for a while before nodding slowly. "yeah... okay."

he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, muttering back with she unknown knowledge, "you'll come find me one way or another."

[victoria-daydreams]

The Winner Takes It All||Challengers

AN: So, I finally I got to see Challengers yesterday and boy do I have thoughts that may or may not be weaved into the story, things still might be ooc or wrong. Also, I'm warning y'all now, I know absolutely nothing about tennis/college and partook in half ass research on how the sport functions.

Based this fic off the most gut wrenching ABBA song because it fits so well with the story. I hope you all enjoy this mini series, don't know if I did it justice from translating this from my head onto Tumblr, but we move. And hopefully there aren't any spelling or grammar errors, but if there are, we die like men.

A playlist for this series is coming soon!

Word Count: 3.5k

Trigger Warnings: mentions of colorism and racism

Taglist: @seriousaliysa @hopless-y @malscorner @miximora @urfavesim @mmmunson @jackierose902109 @youngestxhearts @blkdivinefeminine @kailkailz @lottiematthewsceo @lonnie2390147 @begoniaespresso @everydayimagineer @pnkstalli @softimgyu @amethystwonders11 @hazbinh0e @ysuftmikey

I tried to tag everyone who commented, but tumblr is being weird so I don't know if you'll get the notification.

Part One: Sugar & Spice

With her arms folded across her chest, Gianna's eyes were glued to the TV screen in front of her as two male sports analysts began to discuss their pick for match of the day.

"Oh man, this right here was my favorite today!" one analyst stated excitedly.

"For sure! It was the match to watch as the tennis world bore witness to the next up-and-coming tennis star," the other commentator agreed.

The camera cut away from the men and to the highlights of the mixed doubles championship match.

"Out the gate Gianna Langdon, ranked number five in girls singles, set the the tone for the day with a powerful ace to start the match,"

A clip of the opening minute of the match is put on the screen with Gianna throwing the ball high in the air for the first, and perfectly executed serve, followed by her pumping her fist in triumph with a grin.

"From there, she and her partner, Max Sullivan, kept their opponents, Roy Christians and Marie Riviera on the back foot for what seemed like the entire match,"

Gianna studied the way she nimbly moved around on the grass court, her swift volleys, sharp serves, and effortless backhands left no room for doubt that she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Play of the match goes to none other than Gianna Langdon, with this volley to put the nail in the coffin of this championship," the analyst reported, as the final moments of the match popped up on the screen.

With a powerful strike, the tennis ball was slammed back over the net by Roy onto Gianna's side of the court. Roy's hit lifted the ball high into the air forcing Gianna to reposition herself and backpedal to the spot to return it. Leaping up, Gianna smashed the ball down with force, out of reach from both Marie and Roy, the game winning hit. The clip replayed, but only this time in slow motion, so viewers at home could properly admire the athleticism on display. ESPN then did a jump cut of Gianna and Max both dropping their rackets simultaneously before rushing towards each other to embrace. Max even lifted up her a bit, twirling them around as they celebrated their victory.

The camera panned back to the two commentators who were wrapping up their coverage of the tournament.

"Honestly, Gianna Langdon just dominates the tennis field for her age group whether it's single or doubles," the commentator complimented, gathering his papers up in his hands and tapping it against the desk.

Gianna's lips lifted at the praise, its rare she gets her flowers as a tennis player.

"She's a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about that. If she keeps playing like she is now, she can easily break into the top three, but she's no Tashi Duncan," the other commentator corrected.

At this, her smile instantly fell off her face. Since freshman year of high school, Gianna has forever lived under the inescapable shadow of the phenomenal, powerhouse that is Tashi Duncan. Because Tashi wasn't just some athlete, she was the athlete. The next Serena Williams, as some people taken to calling her. Gianna might as well been chopped liver.

The girls have been thick as thieves since Gianna moved to the same school as Tashi and was paired up by their coach to be doubles partners. The duo were unstoppable on the court, as Gianna was a tennis prodigy in her own right, but often was relegated to just being known as Tashi Duncan's partner. A repeated slight which didn't go unnoticed by her two strongest supporters, her parents. They made it their mission to drill Gianna with an unshakable sense of self confidence in not only her skills with a tennis racket, but also her appearance.

"Don't you ever let the media or naysayers play in your face about your talents, Gianna," her father's words echoing in her head. "You already know, you have to work twice as hard to get half the recognition compared to others," he went on.

Gianna recalled the exact day, he gave her this speech. She was probably fifteen and won a match against some Eastern European girl, it was an upset, and boy did everyone make it a point to tell her so. It ranged from backhanded compliments to outright slurs lobbed at her.

"Oh, so when Tashi pulverizes her opponent on the court who's ranked higher than her it's admirable, but when I do it's a problem!" she complained.

"Competing against Tashi, you need to be prepared that narratives are going to be formed and pushed from factors beyond your control," her father warned. "She's lighter, you're darker. She's thin, you have curves. You're both confident, but only one of you is going to be labeled as arrogant," he listed.

"It's a shame we didn't get to see Duncan and Langdon compete together in girls doubles this year," the analyst said, snapping Gianna out her thoughts.

"Agreed, the best girl duo in juniors we've seen in years,"

Images of Gianna and Tashi materialized on the screen, some were from the last two Junior US Open Championships; both of the, proudly beaming and holding their trophies high above their heads and kissing each other's cheek. But, the one picture that stood out the most to Gianna was their cover on Tennis. Both of them had their arms folded and their game faces on with the headline emblazoned below them.

“Sugar & Spice”

~~~x~~~

Rounding the corner of the hallway, the doors where Tashi's party was being held outside came into Gianna's view. Music and the low murmur of voices floated out of the room, bouncing off the walls as she drew closer. From the corner of Gianna's eyes, she caught her reflection in the hallway mirror promoting her to stop. A pair of eyes, identical to color of rich, molasses stared back at her. Carefully, Gianna studied herself in the mirror from every angle. The healthy glow of her golden, deep brown skin made the light dusting of freckles decorating her upper cheeks and nose more prominent.

"She's no Tashi Duncan,"

It only took those four, little words to dampen Gianna's cheery demeanor and leave her brooding since the afternoon.

Lips pursed, she shook her head slightly, "No, no, no," she whispered to herself. "You're still a champion, Gianna. Fuck that ESPN analyst," she said lowly, smoothing out the pale yellow halter dress she wore.

Letting a lopsided grin grow on her lips, Gianna moved away from the mirror and entered into the ballroom where the party was in full swing. She weaved her way through the crowd to find Tashi, but found herself stopping repeatedly to smile and shake hands as people crowded round her to congratulate her on her match. Gianna couldn't help but feel smug. For once, people were basking in her presence and enjoying the chance to meet a future tennis star in person. It boosted Gianna's ego—a pure, bone-deep satisfaction that something in the air was beginning to shift.

She was starting to be seen as a standout player, not just an extension to Tashi.

Thanking her last well wisher, Gianna's eyes met Tashi's who was a few feet from where she stood. A flicker of recognition flittered across her face and she smiled a tiny smile. Tashi was not alone though, two boys were standing in front her and seemed to be having a very lively conversation.

"What's this I see?" Gianna wondered aloud, brushing past one of the boys. "I'm gone for a minute and you're already making new friends without me," she joked, dropping into the empty chair next to Tashi.

Across from her, both boys were slack jawed and unable to tear their eyes away Gianna. Pride simmered in her chest, Gianna already knew that she was beautiful, but it was nice to be reminded of that fact every now and then. Especially, when there's two boys ogling at her looks and treating her like a divine being.

"You boys gonna stop staring and introduce yourselves, or what?" Gianna questioned, her words flavored with a lulling Louisiana drawl and the boys snapped from their stupor.

"Let me, these two seem to be malfunctioning," Tashi cut in, with a smirk.

"They keep on drooling any longer, they'll catch flies," Gianna quipped, her nude colored lips curling upwards.

Tashi motioned to the dark haired boy with sharp features, "This is Patrick Zweig," she introduced, as Gianna's eyes met Patrick's gray ones, holding her stare and grinning widely. Confidence that bordered on cockiness practically radiated off him. "And this is Art Donaldson," Tashi continued, gesturing to the boy next to Patrick.

Art only allowed himself a small, shy, smile when her eyes shifted over to him. Unabashedly, Gianna let her eyes roam over Art's features. Those blond curls, those blue eyes.

God, they're both gorgeous.

Tashi placed her hand on Gianna's knee, "Patrick and Art, this is my best friend—" she started.

"Gianna Langdon," Patrick and Art interjected simultaneously, causing a Cheshire grin to form on Gianna's lips.

"Well, well, my fan club only continues to grow this tournament," Gianna joked, playing with the curly ends of her pick and drop braids.

"Deservedly so, you were absolutely amazing this tournament," Art complimented, a breathy chuckle leaving him.

"That play when you landed a split after playing a return," Patrick mentioned, beaming at her. "And you still got the point, fucking incredible!" he praised, shaking his head.

She smiled, "Oh, so you two have been avidly watching my matches then?" Gianna questioned, playfulness in her voice while slightly leaning forward in her seat.

"Ashamedly, not initially," Art admitted, and Gianna quirked brow. "But after your storybook comeback in Round 4, we knew there was no way we couldn’t stop watching you," he added quickly.

"Singles or doubles," Patrick chimed in.

"Did you by chance watch any of our matches, Gianna?" Art asked timidly, staring at her with hopeful eyes.

She smirked, "Singles or doubles?" Gianna asked back, smoothly echoing Patrick's words.

"Either," Patrick responded, his eyes drinking her in.

They both seemed mesmerized. Leaning in closer, as if they were going to learn her with their close proximity. Gianna hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair and raising a finger to her chin to mull over the question. She glanced over to Tashi, who was already watching her with an amused expression. Embarrassingly, Gianna kind of forgot her best friend was literally sitting next to her, she had become too engrossed in her conversation with the newcomers.

"No, can't say that I have," Gianna answered finally, with a shrug.

Art deflated, his face falling as the tips of his ears went fiery red, while Patrick's shoulders sagged a little.

"O-Oh," Art breathed.

There was a silence. Gianna looked off to her side again to see a ghost of a grin threatening to appear on Tashi's face. When the two girls' eyes connected with each other, they burst out laughing at the same time. Both boys looked at each other wordlessly, both speechless by this.

"Gia's just fucking with you two," Tashi explained, in between laughter.

Relief couldn't have been written across their faces more clearly.

"Yeah, I actually watched your championship match while I was in the recovery room," Gianna informed, her giggles subsiding. "Your between the legs shot was very inspired, Patrick," she remarked, with a smile.

At this, Patrick puffed out his chest a bit.

"You know, they're playing against each other tomorrow in the boys singles championship match," Tashi mentioned, her eyes bouncing between the boys.

"Are they now?" Gianna responded, an intrigued smirk gracing her face while crossing one leg over the other.

"We are!" Art blurted out, almost too eagerly.

"You both should come and watch," Patrick suggested.

Gianna cocked her head to the side, "Hmm, maybe," she answered, having a little fun toying with them.

Tashi rose from her chair, reaching her hand out for Gianna's.

"Come on, my dad is waving me over to come take pictures," Tashi informed.

"This is a group activity?" Gianna questioned, her brows furrowing.

"No, but the demand for Gianna Langdon is ever growing," she reminded, her eyes filled with mirth.

"It sure is," Gianna agreed, taking her hand as her friend helped her to her feet. Gianna looked over to Patrick and Art. "Well, ciao. It was nice meeting y'all," Gianna said, waving goodbye as Tashi led her away.

"Goodbye?" Patrick jokingly scoffed. "We'll be here all night!" he called out after her.

~~~x~~~

True to their word, Patrick and Art were in the same spot where Gianna and Tashi had left them earlier and they were more than willing to continue hanging out with the girls. Which is how the group of four found themselves on the beach, slowly treading along the sand, the dark blue sky and millions of stars above them. Naturally, Tashi had found herself in the middle of the group with Patrick flanking on her left and Art on her right.

Gianna was next to Art and as they walked, their arms would accidentally brush against each other every now and then. Both of them exchanging shy smiles at the fleeting contact that sent butterflies fluttering in Gianna's stomach. She secretly relished the contact from Art, he radiated warmth similar to that of a dryer-warm blanket; a nice contrast to the cool sand between her toes.

"You know earlier, Tashi asked us who was fire and who was ice," Patrick spoke, looking over to Gianna. "I figured I should return the favor, between the two of you, who's sugar and who's spice?" he asked, his eyes bouncing from Tashi to her.

"Tashi, is definitely 'spice'," Gianna answered, and Tashi rolled her eyes with a smile. "She's more fiery than me and has a more aggressive play style than I do," she explained.

"Making you 'sugar', of course," Art reasoned, the two staring at one another. "You are the perfect mix of deadly grace and effortless balance on the court," he described, going in an almost dreamlike trance.

"Why, thank you Art," Gianna said, bumping her arm into his.

"If Tashi is 'spice' and your 'sugar', why does the media switch it around?" Patrick wondered.

"Preconceived notions, methinks," Gianna replied, simply shrugging her shoulders.

They wandered along until they settled on a spot to hang out at. Art and Patrick both sat in deck chairs while Tashi and Gianna perched themselves on a large rock. Conversation flowed between all them on a myriad of topics ranging from college, life in general, and of course tennis.

"So Gianna," Patrick began, a small curious and mischievous glint in his eyes. "Your doubles partner Bryce—"

"It's Max," Gianna corrected flatly, with a laugh.

He smirked, "I was in the ballpark," Patrick argued, throwing his hands up. "Anyways, you and Max, you two a thing?" he asked curiously, before taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Eww, no!" Tashi exclaimed, her nose twisting in disgust. "You think Gia has such low standards?" she asked back, clearly offended on Gianna's behalf.

"Tashi, come on, Max is not that bad of a person," Gianna stated, lifting her hand up to tell her to calm down.

"Honestly, I don't know how she does it," Tashi went on. "It's a miracle she can still walk after carrying Max through this entire tournament," she sneered.

"Look, Max is not someone who I would consider as an ideal mixed doubles partner," Gianna conceded, her gaze meeting everyone's. "He's mediocre actually," she said bluntly, making Patrick and Art both snicker. "However, Max as an individual and not as an athlete, he's a wonderful guy," she said, with a slight shrug. "Us dating has never once crossed my mind," she finished, waving her hand dismissively.

"So it sounds like you'll be in need of a new partner soon," Patrick hinted, a hunger in his stare.

"Hmm, I guess I will," Gianna agreed, letting a coy smile grow on her lips. "You know anybody?" she asked, tilting her head a little.

"I can think of two people off the top of my head," Art responded, taking a drag of his own cigarette and blowing it out slowly.

"Oh, is that so? And who just—" Gianna started.

Suddenly, Gianna's phone began noisily vibrating in her lap, putting an end to the playful between the boys and Gianna. She picked up her phone and flipped it open before exhaling heavily, it was her dad texting her.

"Shit, fun's over guys," Gianna announced, with another sigh. "My dad wants me back in my room," she explained, unfolding her legs.

"Your won a championship today, and you're father won't let you stay up late to celebrate?" Patrick asked in disbelief, leaning forward in his chair.

"Obviously, you don't know my father if you think a single championship win is going to get him to loosen his reins on his regimented schedule for me," Gianna stated, grabbing her sandals and letting them dangle from her fingers.

"You're about to be off to Stanford, it's insane your dad is giving you a curfew," Art chimed in.

"Well, I'm not at Stanford yet," Gianna pointed out. "And also..." she trailed off, turning to Tashi who had a knowing look on her face. "His roof, his rules," they both said in unison, after hearing those words countlessly over the years.

Finally standing up from the rock, the boys followed suit. Both of their gazes traveled the length of Gianna yet again, as if they needed to commit her to memory.

"I can walk you back to the ferry and to your hotel," Art offered kindly.

"We both could," Patrick volunteered.

"As much as I am flattered that both of you want to walk me back, I can manage just fine," Gianna assured. "Plus, we're all going to be playing an unwanted game of 21 questions if my dad sees two, random white boys walking me to my room," she remarked, with a chuckle.

Tashi pushed herself up onto her feet, "I'll come with you, Gia,"

"No, no stay, Tashi," Gianna encouraged. "Don't end the fun on my account," she insisted. "Another time will come about for all of us to hang out again, right?" she questioned.

A toothy grin broke out on Patrick's face, "There's gonna be another time?" he asked

"I don't see why not," she answered, mirroring his expression. "The three of us are going to be at Stanford together, and I'm sure you come visit from time to time. It all works out so well!" Gianna said excitedly.

Art opened his mouth to speak, but the shrill ringing of Gianna's phone silenced him. Looking down at the phone, she grimaced slightly.

"Shit, I really have to go, my dad is calling now," Gianna stressed.

"Then get going," Tashi prompted, playfully swatting her bottom.

A surprised whoop escaped Gianna's lips before morphing into a giggle as she began to half-walk, half-jog away from the group. She spun around to face them, continuing to walk backwards.

"This was really fun y'all, we should do this again, yeah?" she yelled.

"I look forward to it!" Art yelled back.

"Me too!" Patrick shouted.

Laughing, Gianna spun around and jogged away, all too aware of the three pair of eyes boring into her back.

~~~x~~~

Propped up against the hotel bed headboard, Gianna was tucked underneath the blankets with a well-worn copy of Baking with Julia in her hands. If tennis was her first love, then baking was her second. There was nothing more relaxing than to Gianna than being able to slow down and just allowing herself to focus on precision, without any of the heightened stakes that came with tennis. Not to mention, beating eggs or whisking a cake were great ways to rid herself of any frustration she may be feeling.

A series of rhythmic knocks on her door pulled Gianna from her musings. She didn't even have to ask who it was, she could tell by the pattern of the familiar knock.

"Just use the card I gave you, Tashi," Gianna called, her voice just loud enough for her to hear.

There's a quiet click of the door unlocking before the door opened a crack and Tashi's head popped into her room, a shit eating grin on her face.

"Hurry up and get in here, before my dad sees!" Gianna ordered, with a laugh.

Closing the door behind her, Tashi pranced over to Gianna and sat beside her on the floor on the edge of her bed.

"Tell me everything! What happened after I left?" Gianna asked, a smile of her own on her face.

"They invited me to come up to their room,"

"And you went?"

"I did," Tashi answered, a smirk on her lips.

Gianna landed a playful hit on Tashi's arm, "No fucking way!" she whispered, her eyes wide. "You hooked up with both of them?"

"I didn't sleep with them," Tashi corrected. "We only made out, and then they made out," she added, smirking proudly.

Gianna raised an eyebrow, "They made out? Patrick and Art?" she questioned.

"Yep," Tashi grinned.

"On their own or did they have some help?" Gianna asked, arching a brow.

Wordlessly, Tashi plucked Gianna's book from her hands and she straddled her, resting each leg on either side of Gianna.

"They did most of the heavy lifting, I just gave them the push they needed," Tashi explained, looping her arms around her friend's neck.

"Now, I'm a little jealous. I missed out on all the fun," Gianna complained, sticking out her lower lip in a mock pout.

"Gia babe, don't worry, I did not forget about you," Tashi reassured, as Gianna hands came to rest on Tashi's thighs. "Remember their match tomorrow?" she reminded.

"Yeah,"

"Winner gets my number…." Tashi trailed off, removing her right arm from around Gianna's neck. "And yours," she finished, lightly tapping the tip of her nose.

A slow smile spread across Gianna's lips as Tashi's words sunk in. She knew exactly what her friend was up to, especially if it meant Tashi could watch some "real fuckin' tennis".

"Tashi Duncan, the girl that you are," Gianna praised, letting out a chuckle.

Leaning forward, Gianna planted a soft kiss on Tashi's lips. It was only meant to be a quick peck, but as Gianna went to pull away, Tashi held her face, keeping their lips connected.

Tashi withdrew herself from Gianna, "Tomorrow is gonna be so fucking good," she grinned, her eyes twinkling at the thought. "And guess what is the best part about all of this, Gia?" she questioned, their forehead resting against each others.

"What?'

"We already have them wrapped our fingers, without even trying," Tashi answered, sending the girls into a fit of giggles.

Part II: Maneaters

[jessamine-rose]

​LENA YOU’VE OUTDONE YOURSELF (*⁰▿⁰*)

Yandere! Jamil simps, come get your food~

Yandere twst - Jamil

Taking this as an opportunity to make a post for my boy!!! Similar to the last one I'm going with a "consensual relationship that quickly takes a turn for the worse," I am liking the dynamic >:3 Important note that you should probably read the last one for Kalim prior to this one (I originally intended to release it as one post but ended up dividing it bc both were like 12k+ words lmao), so this one makes several references to the other one.

Previous entries for twst series:

[Kalim]

[Floyd]

//manipulative bastard behavior/moderate yandere, somewhat dark, bullying, mind control, I think there might be implications of fem reader iirc

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

The first interaction you have with Jamil is only a few brief moments. A conversation in passing, the sort of empty casual exchange that is normally more or less forgotten by both parties before the day is even over.

He's pretty aware of his surroundings at all times, so he sort of saw you walking over out of the corner of his eye, working himself away making food and setting up arrangements and venue as per usual for some function or another that Kalim decided to hold at the last minute on the main campus grounds . Bouncing from one task to the next. But several others have passed by already without a word, so it catches him a bit by surprise when your steps come to a halt, when you speak.

You know, every time I see you, you're always working on something. Don't you ever rest?

Your tone is that sort of endearing, amused way of speaking, but still seems to express a genuine sentiment. You're not exactly spending idle time either -- you have some box or package in your hands, headed somewhere to drop something off. Who knows what compelled you to say something, on this one occasion in particular, to voice the observation you've made quite a few times now. Spontaneous, spur of the moment.  A decision made with casual impulse.

His eyebrows raise, but it doesn't take him more than a moment to formulate a response. A very generic response, one that comes out mechanically, given how often people express similar thoughts to him, tell him he's working too hard, that he deserves a break and all that, things he hears pretty frequently. A randomly chosen option, the first that comes to mind, of a preset list of responses to such inquiries and comments.

A casual sigh, a shrug of the shoulders, followed with a 'well, someone has to get this done, might as well do it myself.' With a pleasant tone and a slight chuckle, of course, as socially expected, that perfect level of exasperation to where he can complain, but just not enough to make it seem like he actually feels burdened. A default exchange like so many others, that he recites his parts of without really thinking about it.

Likewise, you give what he perceives as a typical reply.

If you need any help, I can come back as soon as I get this dropped off...

He just shakes his head.

That's alright. Everything that can be done today is nearly finished anyway.

You shift the box you're carrying, jerking it up with a soft motion to re-secure it in your arms.

Well, alright, if you say so... you can let me know if you ever need any help with anything!

Of course, that in and of itself is also an empty social gesture. So often people say things of the sort -- let me know if you need anything, or I can help if you need, so on and so on, a courtesy expected by arbitrary rules of social etiquette, but not anticipated to be very likely to be actually taken up on the offer. He couldn't even count how many times people have said similar things to him, it's just a matter of social propriety. The exchange melts into the vast collection of perpetual memory, as with every other uneventful moment in one's life, and he doesn't think of it again for the rest of the day.

He's a bit taken aback, then, when you show up the next day. You can see the slight bewilderment on his face when he asks if you need something. Your reply is a bit sheepish, but friendly.

Well, you said 'everything that can get done today' yesterday, so I figured you'd be busy again today too... I don't have anything better to do, and I'm trying to get to know people here, you know? You seem like you could use some help.

Ah. Well, that does make sense. In truth, he values the solitary time he gets to himself, and trying to get to know new people often leaves him rather exhausted. But still, you're a pleasant person, and he would appreciate getting this set-up work for the event tomorrow done faster. He thanks you, pauses for a moment while trying to determine a task to delegate to you. Can't give you something too difficult, seeing as you're generous enough to do this in the first place. You end up performing some menial, repetitive task, simple but necessary, while he does the heavy lifting and more difficult aspects.

It's easy to talk to you, thankfully. You mostly just ask him a bunch of questions about the school, about himself, about Kalim, about the Scarabia dorm, so on and so on. Nothing too intrusive, nothing that's difficult to answer. Truthfully, it's actually kind of nice. He's not particularly used to people expressing a great deal of interest in him, he usually sort of works in the background, quiet, unnoticed, doesn't draw attention to himself. He was a bit weary of the thought of working with someone on this, but he finds that he actually enjoyed the time, once it's over, when you bid him farewell and head back to your own dorm, promising to come by again sometime.

But again, that's a social courtesy. Maybe you will, maybe you won't. It would be rather nice, but he won't be too disappointed nor surprised if you don't; after all, you must be very busy meeting tons of people and adjusting to the situation you've found yourself in here. He's not expecting anything.

Since over a week passes, he starts to think it will be just a one-time thing, not thinking much of it. It's a rather pleasant surprise, this time around, when you do show up again. He says it's nice to see you again, even more of those necessary appropriate courtesy things he's supposed to say, although it is meant sincerely. Thanks you for coming by again.

Conversation comes a bit more easily, as you're not really strangers this time around, your exchanges lack that inherent slight awkwardness that comes with interacting with a person you've never spoken to before. This time he can make some conversation based on asking you how your week was, how you're getting adjusted, so on and so on.

You come back a third time, after that, this time only around five days later. Then a fourth time, although that time you take even longer than the time between the first and second visit. He does take notice of that, supposing it to just be a habit of being observant of details like that.

It turns into a habit. You keep coming back, trying to help out. It's an appreciated act of kindness, but... somewhat uncomfortable, too. He's used to having to do quite a lot by himself, or employing the help of random Scarabia students, but even then he's acting more as a director, telling them what to do while working on other tasks himself. He's not as much used to working directly with someone, having someone hand him things and work right alongside him.

Still, it gets the job done faster. And it's nice to have someone to talk to, makes it feel like it's going by faster too. Not to mention, your returning to help him on multiple occasions suggests you have some desire to be around him, since he's fairly certain it's not as if you find manual labor particularly enthralling or anything. That gives him a feeling that is very...

...Unpleasant.

Yes, categorically, it should be considered unpleasant. A tight constriction of the chest, jittery nerves, increased heart rate, a feeling of unease and bashfulness. None of that is particularly positive, and in fact is rather irksome.

But the feeling is somehow, nonetheless, an addictive one, a sort of natural chemical high that, despite the duality of its unpleasantness, still leaves him with that trademark "warm fuzzy feeling" for the rest of the day, well after your departure. The back-and-forth of how good and bad the feeling is, is confusing and frustrating in and of itself. Not to mention the way he gradually increasingly finds his thoughts drifting to you in some way, wondering what you're doing and where you are. The sudden rushing feeling to his chest whenever he happens to spot you. The way he starts to look forward to your coming to visit and help. The surge of excitement when you do come walking through the door, and admittedly, acute disappointment on the days you don't show up.

More importantly, the conclusions to be drawn are frustrating. He's not clueless, quite the opposite. The realization of the sentiments he has for you aren't something he goes into self-denial about, nor does he have to sort through them.

It just sort of dawns on him one day, when you show up a few minutes late to a class you both have -- he finds himself a bit worried for the few minutes of your absence, and similarly a sensation of relief when you come sheepishly slinking through the doorway, quietly trying to enter the room without being noticed or called out for tardiness. Your eyes briefly meet from across the room. You flash a quick smile in his direction before heading to the spot you normally sit in. The slight concern, the relief, the way that one quick second of eye contact and smile from you made his heartrate go up, made a warm tight feeling in his chest... it just sort of occurs to him within that moment. Yes, he's not the sort of person to be in denial or delusion and convince himself he feels any other way, and is quite good at recognizing and fully understanding his own psychology.

...

...

...Ugh.

Not that he doesn't appreciate you or anything, but at first, it's actually something he's not particularly thrilled about, quite frustrated actually.

Firstly, it's inconvenient. For someone as busy and with so many responsibilities as himself, it's not good to have distractions or liabilities. Such things can compromise one's sense of priority, and keep oneself absent-minded, neither of which he can afford.

More importantly, it's a sort of weakness that he doesn't like the thought of having. His calmness and composition throughout most matters is largely dependent on the fact that he tends to operate from a distance, executing plans by proxy or otherwise indirectly. He doesn't approach things very head-on, it's just not his way of doing things. And any matters he conducts are usually professional or academic, rarely having to involve feelings and emotions, particularly in a relational sense to other people. While he's very persuasive, well-liked, and certainly doesn't struggle to socialize or anything, he doesn't really form a lot of very close relationships.

Thus, while would never admit to it, he's sort of lost when it comes to matters of a truly romantic nature, and would be very awkward if he tried to be forward or initiate any sort of display of affection. Thankfully, he's self-aware of that, and isn't about to make a fool of himself doing something stupid and impulsive.

This leads to a sort of stagnation. Yes, he'll do everything in his power to set up the correct circumstances in which he can be around you, will manipulate all sorts of surrounding factors and nearly everyone in your social network, even if that involves countless hours of quietly carrying out plans... he just won't, you know, ever say it outright to you, at least not unless you do first.

After all, even in literature and media, courtship is often compared to some form of game, where the one who cares more and needs the other more is thought of as the weaker, "losing" party. There's an innate sort of vulnerability to transparency in openness to one's emotions, and he's strongly averse to that. Part of it is the innate sensitivity to rejection present in all people, but it's also a matter of control. He likes situations and people and things that give him a firm sense of control, stability, security. People who are easily manipulated, situations that he can easily direct the outcome of... and opening up such a situation would mean relinquishing control of whatever happens next, control of his own emotional state, control over the inherent power imbalance present deep within every social interaction, over to you. Can't do that.

And when that "losing" party makes their desperation and vulnerability known, it turns off the other, bores them, makes them feel the desperate one is disposable and soon treats them as such after losing interest.

Well, some people. If you ask him, the thought of that level of desperation and neediness from a partner is actually quite nice. He can't really wrap his head around why some people would find it irritating or boring when just the thought of it seems like a euphoric fantasy. Since he likes control, a lack thereof, a sense that something is slipping out of his grasp, that he can't easily dictate the actions or results of something, is something he can't stand for.

So, he can't do it. Can't expose that degree of openness, risk rejection.

But that's alright, he can't afford to have that sort of relationship with someone anyway, it would simply interfere with his responsibilities too much. So he determines, at least initially.

The solution to both of these problems, then, is to simply refrain. No interference with his responsibilities, and no need to expose any vulnerability. He's very used to restraining his emotions, refraining from acting upon impulses or desires, however harmless they may be, because responsibility must take priority. Rarely has something consumed his thoughts to such a degree, but still, he can handle it.

Thus, for a while, he might actually avoid you to some extent, thinking it will decrease the chances of attachment. Gets things done in a different location than where you usually find him, works at different times.

But then it seems so boring and empty when he's working alone, when he doesn't have your bright smile there, it feels very... depressing. Likewise, when he sees you again, coming up with some excuse as to why he was absent the day before or so (did you come looking for him and he wasn't there? Were you disappointed? The thought of that is satisfying on its own...), the discontentment goes right back to feeling everything is alright and well with the world, and it's a feeling he just can't give up.

He quickly realizes it seems pointless to continuously resist. If he can't rid himself of it, he might as well try to work with it, adapt to the best of his ability. That seems like the only logical conclusion. Keep you close, but not too close, and to avoid exposing any affections beyond very simple appreciation for your help and presence, at least until he has full security that he can afford to do otherwise.

He doesn't initiate it, but gladly welcomes it when you start to seek him out elsewhere. You learn you have the same lunch period during most of the week, and a few electives together. You don't always talk to or sit next to him, but you sort of rotate between your friends, so he gets to interact with you some of the time.

The other times, though, you opt to talk to others instead. Turns out you're getting along quite well with several people on campus since you showed up here. He just sort of waits at the beginning of the class to see whether or not you'll come to him, or if you go to someone else.

If it's the former, he's certainly happy about it, perhaps almost a bit relieved that that was your choice. You would never get the impression it was what he was hoping for, though, he ensures that. Refrains from looking up when you enter a room, stares blankly down at a paper or textbook on the desk, as if not paying attention, giving no semblance of caring either way, merely watching you from the corner of his eye, and pretending to only notice your presence the moment you sit down.

Whenever it's the latter, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel an increasingly sharp sense of disappointment. Perhaps a bit of irritation. A strange, gnawing feeling in his stomach, a tightness to his chest. Very opposing feelings, ones that he soon realizes linger with him the entire day. If you choose to talk to him, the rest of his day feels great, and if not, he finds himself a bit disgruntled for the rest of the day. It feels embarrassing for something so simple to be affecting him to such an extent, but he can't control the emotional aspect.

That begins to create a greater concern.

A bit of worry that this initially unwelcome sentiment of affection is starting to create some other, more problematic feelings. Ones that feel harder to handle.

It's more of a subconscious worry, at first, a faint uneasiness that largely rests at the back of his mind. The full extent of the realization comes as a sudden occurrence, one day, when you don't show up at the end of the day for the first time in a while, seeing as you've started coming by to help him out on a daily basis now.

He's a bit disappointed, sure. But it's no big deal, it's not as if you ever agreed to come every day or anything, you're certainly under no obligation to do so, it's incredibly generous for you to come at all in the first place.

...You could have said something, though, you know.

It's not as if you don't see him throughout the day in passing, in class. It's completely voluntary to begin with, so of course it's not necessary for you to tell him if you're coming or not, nor does he take it as a rudeness that you didn't, it's just... you could have. It would have been appreciated. After all, now he has to wonder where you are, which leads him to contemplate the very small possibility that something might be wrong, which causes unnecessary worry that he could have been spared had you just bothered to stop him for a second, or send a message with a single sentence since you exchanged numbers a while back, neither of which would have taken very long... but that's a selfish mentality, so he tells himself. Obviously you must be spending time with other people doing other things, like anyone does, which you have every right to do.

He can't help but wonder with whom, though. A few people come to mind, he mentally goes down the list of people he sees you with most frequently and at what time of day he sees you with each one...

Which is something he only now realizes he's subconsciously been keeping track of. But that's force of habit, he has to be observant like that... okay, no, it's not, it's definitely more than that, he can't lie to himself. The force of habit does contribute, but nonetheless.

Still, if he runs down the list, given the time of day and day of the week, he can come up with one most likely possibility, and a couple lesser possibilities, as to your current location, company, and activity. The fair degree of certainty is reassuring.

But there's still a knot in his stomach the more he thinks about it. His hands keep working, but his mind is playing imagery and words in his imagination, things you might be talking about and saying and doing and what others might be saying back to you and it's a very, very, very awful feeling.

Soon enough, he's forced to snap back to awareness when he realizes the task he was working on is done while his mind was elsewhere, and nearly an hour has passed. He should probably go home and get started on food for the evening.

It's not the direction his feet take him in, though.

It can't hurt to check just for a second. Besides, it's only like a five minute detour, so he might as well. Just a brisk walk through a few halls, down a few doors, just barely peeking over a door window to ensure he remains unseen.

Sure enough, he was right. You're just sitting around and talking. He makes a quick mental note of the other individuals in the room, tries to listen in for a moment before realizing it's (unfortunately) too muffled to be clearly heard, then turns around and goes home.

And ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, elbow to each thigh and head resting on each respective hand, staring at the wall, running through the events of the past hour and a half, fully realizing the significance of how unusual and intense his behavior was. He was aware of it even in the moment, sure, but the momentary impulse overrode any sense of reason. It's a mistake he tells himself not to make again.

But he knows the feeling is increasing. The intensity is getting worse and worse with each passing day. While he's careful not to be careless about it, he finds himself making a habit of checking on you on the days you don't come around to see him. The fact that there even are such days, seeing you with other people doing something else, starts to upset him more and more, to the extent he starts thinking about it at random throughout the day. Each occurrence of such thoughts striking him with a feeling of bitterness that makes him clench his jaw, curl his hands into fists, even respond more bluntly than he normally would to other people when approached -- he even overheard, on one such occasion, after giving a frustrated what? to someone that approached him, the same student remarking to someone else that the vice housewarden has been in a really poor mood lately, to which the other seemed to agree.

The potential consequences of it all does worry him. But his response to these emotions, and understanding of them, isn't quite what you might expect.

Unlike almost anyone else would be, he's not concerned or confused by the acknowledgement of the fact that he has abnormally intense, compulsive, obsessive attachment. He's not really alarmed by realizing what's happening.

See, most people go through a reckoning phase, having to do with their self-image. Most see themselves as a good person, and struggle to come to terms with their actions and thoughts — ultimately either coming to terms with the wrongness of what they want, or deluding themselves.

But Jamil is no stranger to having nefarious urges, nor does he have any real issues with acceptance of the reality of his desires. But more importantly, part of what makes him such a force to be reckoned with, and gives him such frightening potential for success as an obsessive, is a lack of any compulsion to prescribe to conventional morality, nor any feeling of need to justify his own actions. He's fully aware that the ideas in his head and urges in his thoughts are "wrong," there's no period of self-bargaining or attempting to rationalize or justify anything to himself, no attempts at self-delusion. He's just perfectly fine with accepting that he wants to do things considered immoral.

In fact, completely unlike Kalim, he's almost unnervingly self-aware. There may have been a bit of confusion, or very brief attempts to justify his actions to himself in the beginning, but after the initial realizations take place, he becomes acutely and immediately aware of every thought, every action.

He wouldn't think of himself as a bad person, but unlike most people, he doesn't think of himself as a particularly good person either. In fact, he finds the thought of people who believe themselves to be fully good to be rather exasperating and foolish. Do people really believe themselves to be innately good, that they won't act on selfish desires? He's never understood that.

It's not at all uncommon, nor is he any stranger to strong sentiments. Everyone has heard of such a thing before. It's common enough that you often hear advice of obsessive lovers being something to be avoided, meaning that while it's viewed negatively, the frequency of its occurrence indicates that it's not particularly abnormal. One could even argue it's innate in some people, some leftover instinct from more primitive days of the human species. There's plenty of cases of it in media, in the news, accounts you see from people who were subject to such a thing,  and even plenty of cases in folklore. They say the great Sorcerer himself used to be fond enough of a princess to try and kill someone over her, or something like that.

It ties into his own self-perception too, his honesty to himself about his personhood. Someone who would develop such urges and feelings... yeah, he can see that happening to him. At first, it actually doesn't seem to make sense, but the more he thinks about it, the more it does make sense, after a long while of contemplating it almost amusingly, as if he's a third party analyzing someone else, and not himself. It checks out, he supposes. Irksome and inconvenient that that would develop in him, but there's no use trying to fight those kinds of urges when, based on his own observations and accounts of such things, the people who tend to have such tendencies always seem to have it in such a way that is clearly an innate part of their psychology, thus pointless to avoid, and better dealt with by adapting and adjusting. Oh well.

Those sorts of cases frequently end poorly for the individual in question, but those are normal people, with normal levels of control and cunning. By contrast, he knows himself well enough to know he has high restraint and inhibition, so the risk of acting out and drawing attention is near nonexistent, and he's patient and calculated enough that he's fairly certain he can act out the ideas he begins to have without risk of consequence.

Because there would be negative consequence, he's sure of that. The extent and intensity of his emotions is at a point that it could be considered erratic or obsessive, as he already knows full well, and would cause alarm if you or anyone else became aware of it. Even if, say, you were to return the feelings to a normal extent, even if you like him, he still has no doubt that the full intensity of what he is capable of, the malicious and unethical nature of many of the urges themselves, would almost certainly cause you to change your mind. So even if you respond positively, he has to keep that in check.

But acknowledging the potential consequences of acting out of line aside, he's surprisingly very unbothered it, for someone who is coming to the realization that they have feelings and urge for behaviors that go beyond the conventions of normalcy or what is considered "heathy." The latter of which he just rolls his eyes at; he's always been convinced that most people condemning emotions as "unhealthy" are really just trying to get people to conform to social norms -- hey, if he wants to let himself be slowly consumed by resentment over the course of his entire life, that's his business, you know? Same thing applies here. Abiding by the cultural norms and social expectations of a "healthy relationship" and "being ethical" is just a roundabout way of stopping him from doing what he wants and won't get him the results he desires, so no need to even try to listen to such nonsense.

Alongside all of that, he has remarkable persuasion skills, can lie and act very convincingly if needed.  Difficult to catch off-guard, has planned out interactions and alternate paths to take in case one avenue doesn't work out. Always prepared for almost anything that could go wrong. He's patient, cunning, intelligent, perceptive... all traits you do not want in someone with his intentions. He's fairly good at concealing emotions as well -- sure, sometimes a bit of it may slip out here and there, but he's still infinitely better at it than the vast majority of people.

All of this combined — lack of concern for ethics, high self-awareness, fairly high ability to mask his emotions, unhesitating acceptance of the realization of forming an obsession, high intelligence and perceptiveness, great patience, and high impulse control in favor of cunning premeditation — makes him an unusually highly effective obsessive with an almost alarming capacity for harm and success. One of the most unfortunate individuals in the establishment you could end up catching the affections of, in terms of your chances of things ending well for you.

Not that there aren't a few moments where it slips through, just the occasional word or gesture. He's still better than virtually anyone else at concealing emotions, but nonetheless, those emotions are the ones that may just come out, if but for a moment.

You end up missing a few more days of helping him in a row. Friends invited you out to a couple of events. You didn't really think anything of it, at least, not until you come back to your usual routine, on what would have been the fourth day of absence if you hadn't come.

He's already not the most talkative person in the world, but you quickly notice an unusual curtness to his tone. Usually, if you sit down and open with a how was your day?, he'll shrug, say nothing eventful occurred, or make a small mention of something that happened if something eventful did occur.

This time, though, you get a much more brief answer. It was fine.

The tone of his voice is clearly cold, almost passive-aggressive. You tilt your head and ask if something happened, if something's wrong. You get a similarly curt answer.

No.

But as he tends to do with regards to his own behavior, he catches himself, realizes how it comes off. For a brief moment, the realization is actually a bit embarrassing -- he knows getting bitter over such a thing is immature behavior. So he corrects it, shakes his head as if clearing his thoughts, comes up with something about being momentarily distracted and answering on a mental autopilot so as to seem that he was just not paying attention, and asks you to repeat the question, this time forcing out a regular calm demeanor as if not upset.

This, the initial disgruntlement goes more or less unregistered in your memory. You do notice, though, as you continue talking, that he asks more than once about how your week has been -- you answer with a general statement that it's been good and just regular life, nothing out of the ordinary, but apparently that answer isn't quite sufficient.

And what have you been doing these past few days?

He nearly bites his tongue as soon as he says it. That came out a bit more forward and obvious than it sounded in his head. Thankfully, a quick glance upward from his task shows no indication of perturbance on your end, as you merely smile and answer in full, giving a few details of what you've been up to. Hanging out with friends, primarily. He has to refrain from asking specifically whom, seeing as at that point, further questioning on the matter would probably even strike you as oddly intrusive. He'll just have to leave it at that.

Likewise, he'll have to accept you doing whatever you want with your spare time. Any indication that he feels any other way or trying to influence your decision would certainly be noticed, and perceived as strange. It's not like he's entitled to your time... that is, from the perspective of general social consensus. He knows that reasonably, from an objective standpoint, he isn't entitled to that. Even if he might personally feel that way.

He does seem distracted, throughout the rest of the day, has to get you to repeat yourself a few times after seemingly spacing out. But he's always rather busy and under a lot of stress, you have no reason to think anything of it.

He truly does do a good job of concealing his thoughts and feelings. Most obsessive admirers would have long since cracked and shown their true colors by now, as the months go by. His is just tiny little slip-ups, every now and then, much like the first one. Primarily a slight coldness and bitterness to his demeanor whenever you go a significant amount of days without coming by. It only lasts for a few moments before he corrects it, but you do occasionally start to take notice of it. Still, that doesn't seem too out of the ordinary. You're friends, so you can understand he'd be a bit upset, when you think about it, and he's under a lot of stress anyway. Much to his satisfaction, you actually seem to take notice and correct the behavior all on your own, as you gradually stop having significant gaps in days between seeing him, and even on days you aren't coming, you now usually send a message.

There was also that time you stayed in for the day due to feeling sick, and woke up after a long sickness-induced nap to four back-to-back messages, one every hour or so from the time class sessions start, increasingly concerned by your lack of reply. Which is perhaps a bit much, but the messages abruptly stop around noon, as if realizing it was a bit too intense and backing down. But in all fairness, it's only natural to be concerned, so you appreciate it, if anything.

Then there was also the time you had that one guy that kept seeming to try to get close to you for a while, someone you'd worked with in one of your classes once and got along well with. The two of them had never interacted to your knowledge, until you were talking one day and another familiar face came up seemingly out of nowhere. Rather forcefully intruding on the conversation with an uncharacteristic bluntness and coldness, and a near tangible aura of hostility, a glare distinguishable even to you.

Yes, it was definitely too forward, and certainly both the most impulsive act and the largest blunder he's made so far, but it was borderline torture standing there up on the second floor, watching from the window, unable to do anything. He manages to at least somewhat defend himself, and hopefully quell any irritation or confusion you might have had, by telling you later in private that the individual in question is in fact known to be of poor character, manipulative and two-faced, so people say, and was probably intending to take advantage of your kind nature. You seem to accept that, much to his relief, and even express some gratitude. Unfortunately, though, he won't be able to use that excuse again without seeming suspicious, so he just has to hope you don't start to get close to someone with obviously non-platonic intentions again.

Still. It's not as if he can just take the risk, nor does he think that a simple intimidating interaction will deter the other guy entirely. Other measures must be taken.

To you, though, it's just a confirmation that Jamil was right, once the guy gets expelled. Apparently he attacked someone at random, became violent with a group of students and apparently injured one to such an extent that the administration didn't even just give him a strike, but viewed it as grounds for immediate expulsion. You mention it, when you're visiting Jamil as usual later that day, with concern and shock over the incident in your voice as you ask if he heard about it.

He just shrugs. See, told you... ah, but it's not your fault you didn't realize it. Some people are just very good at concealing their true natures, you know? But it's good that you distanced yourself from the guy before anything bad happened to you. You voice your concurrence with that statement.

And yet, after that guy disappears, so does Jamil, at least during those same time blocks. He goes back to not being around during that time, leaving you to find new people to talk to during that time instead. After all, he doesn't want to come across as clingy. Settling for returning to the window position allows for greater scope of observation, anyway.

Jamil engages in a great deal of his fixation from a distance, with you unaware of his presence. He won't necessarily come up and talk to you, but he'll watch you from across a room, from a window looking down on you below, from a shadow a ways away from the crowds and groups you're busy interacting with. He doesn't have to worry about unintentionally being suffocating, this way, while still knowing what you're doing. It's actually a process that often makes him upset, an irritating swelling feeling to his chest, because people like you far more than he would prefer, and now he's forced to watch. Not that he would want people to dislike you either, that would probably hurt your self-esteem and... ah, whatever. It's just irksome to see people gather around you so much. It would be preferable if your presence wasn't treated as something of a spectacle on the campus, but there's nothing he can do about that.

He's even more careful not to make mistakes and show affection than he is careful about negative emotions, but that doesn't mean positive emotions don't also sometimes show as well.

You're far too nice to him, for one thing. You just have to go on these spiels about how much you appreciate his help with various things, or when he thanks you for helping you just have to smile so sweetly and say you enjoy it, that you're glad you get to come by and all... it's one of a few ways to make him genuinely flustered, unable to look you in the eye, all stiff and fidgety as he mumbles something about how it's appreciated, and that you don't have to feel pressured to and whatnot. You have a tendency to say too-nice things that leave him feeling all hot in the face and embarrassed for the rest of the day. Just like the initial feeling of attachment itself, it's almost unpleasant in its own way, and yet, it's addictive.

You still just barely notice the slip-ups, if at all. Those times where he maybe gets just a bit too close, talks to you for a bit too long, seems a little bit too nosy asking what you've done today or prying for details on a conversation you had with someone else -- before he catches himself, correcting the mistake by switching topics or coming up with a reason to leave so as not to linger too long. Can't give you the impression that he wants to stay around you for much longer, can't come off as desperate or vulnerable.

Little things like that. Mostly tiny little mistakes, and besides, he's increasingly even more careful not to make such errors, often getting a bit panicked after each one and becoming stricter in the future. None of it ever crosses the line of what would really catch your attention as something abnormal or something that would induce any concern.

It carries on for some time like that. His self-control allows him to maintain a state of limbo, where he can keep himself in check, not doing anything he shouldn't nor making any move to take anything further, but ensuring you stay close, that you don't drift away. Making sure there are no more issues with people becoming too close to you in ways he doesn't like.

But much to his satisfaction, you seem to grow closer anyway, without him having to take any sort of action to do so. You come by more than ever, and he likes the implications of the fact that you come to see him so often.

He tends to be a bit more open to sharing thoughts and observations normally kept reserved to you, too, as he grows more comfortable talking to you. A bit more openly negative and sardonic. It's not even intentional, really, it happens subconsciously at first. He's just never had an outlet before, and once he does, it becomes such a source of catharsis that one day, after making a slightly negative comment, to which you inquire about the matter, he finds himself starting to perhaps say a bit too much. Unloading all of his frustrations and bottled up negativity. Initially, he catches himself doing it and cuts himself off after a few moments, starting to apologize and saying something about being irritable as he didn't sleep much the night before or something like that.

But you shake your head.

Oh, come on, it's fine. You don't have to pretend around me, you know?

He pauses for a moment... but shrugs, starts to return to voicing the same thoughts. He still won't fully express his feelings, then, but if you're fine with it... it can't hurt to talk about some of his frustrations and complaints. If anything, you seem to find some of the comments amusing, snickering at some of the more sarcastic mutterings. It actually feels quite nice. It's something he hasn't ever really had before, usually having to keep all his negative thoughts to himself. In the end, you end up unwinding too, complaining about this or that. A cathartic session for you both, and you end up sharing a few smiles and laughs over some of each other's accounts and shared annoyances.

It would seem, though, that his efforts to grow closer to you do pay off. It's pleasing. It feels like it's "going somewhere," so to speak, that all the conversations have progressed to being closer and closer; which is, of course, what he would hope for.

Eventually, he figures it can't hurt to try and push for some progress himself. Yes, perhaps he can afford to try and make some small push forward, little by little. He takes the same approach as he does to most matters -- quietly, patiently, avoiding risky, bold, reckless actions in favor of a gradual and calculated plan.

What he decides on doing does require him to take some initiative and ask, although he chose a group event rather than anything you'd be by yourselves for. Just one of the many large dorm-wide social events they have in Scarabia on a regular basis, although this one in particular is supposed to be for something special or another. You agree to it, with a smile at that. It's very reassuring.

Except it turns out that that presents a brand new problem.

Well, part of a larger problem. As he's observed, you've been mingling with different people, forming a friend group during your time on the campus. He would know, he's been watching very carefully and making note of each person, and may or may not have interfered once or twice behind the scenes to prevent you from interacting with individuals he would prefer you not to.

One, however, has not only slipped through any attempts to deter interaction, but apparently has avoided registering on his radar of who you interact with entirely. The only conclusion is that you must have had all your interactions during those times where he can't watch over you. Just perfectly, by the narrowest of margins, managing to grow close to each other, somehow exclusively during those few times he's had his back turned and off fulfilling some other responsibilities, completely unbeknownst to him until this very moment.

Or so he learns, when you arrive, smile when you see him, immediately making your way over to him to talk... until something else catches your attention, something behind him. Your eyes flicker to something just over his shoulder, something he can hear approaching with rapid footsteps and saying your name. Something that quickly swerves around him in favor of lunging at you and grabbing you into an enthusiastic embrace.

...What.

It feels like some sort of cruel joke from a higher power. Like the will of the universe is to spite him. Like being a comedic relief character where the running gag is his constant misfortune. He finds himself standing there, arms limp at his sides, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, eye twitching as he looks back and forth between the two of you.

But... but how did... when did you... you never mentioned... why...

You're clearly overwhelmed, though, you have that awkward smile where you're clearly uncomfortable but don't say anything to be nice... so after a moment of pause (as soon as he finishes mentally cursing his very existence to whatever force of the universe is listening, that is), he doesn't hesitate to reach out, grab and pull the invasive creature off of you by the shirt collar.

Kalim, you're being suffocating.

Not that those words deter the other boy for even a second. Other than a brief choking sound at sudden jerking motion pulling the front of his clothes against his throat, he immediately recovers, bright-eyed as he gets out an apology, smiling all the while, and continues rambling about something else, until being interrupted.

I didn't realize you two even knew each other.

It takes every ounce of his willpower to force those words out in a way that sounds neutral and curious rather than like he's about to strangle him to death, but he manages. You smile and start to clarify that oh, yes, you have this or that class together and have talked a few times... which just so happens to take place during the longest stretch of the day that he has to go without seeing you, which he frequently worries about. How incredibly coincidental. Haha. Anyway, if you'll excuse him for just one second, he has to go check on something to ensure that the students have everything ready--

--which is actually him walking off to the nearest secluded spot and slamming his fist into the wall with all the force he can muster without breaking his fingers. Takes a deep breath in, deep breath out. Okay. That was cathartic enough to hopefully get him through the night with minimal homicidal urges.

Kalim seems absolutely determined to test that, however. You would think he was the one who invited you here, given the fact that he seems dead-set on monopolizing your time and attention in every conceivable way. He can barely get a word in, can barely say anything to you for a few seconds without getting interrupted. At several points throughout the night you quite literally get dragged away by the wrist to go look at something or participate in something, while he sits there left with nothing to do but seethe over it, trying to distract himself by taking in all the stimulus of the crowded lounge, lest the violent urges start getting the best of him because he's about arm's length away from several very sharp objects on the table and it's starting to get a bit too tempting. By the time midnight rolls around, he's barely gotten to spend any time with you at all. He's pretty sure you've actually been trying to keep coming back and talk to him, but keep getting dragged off and are too nice to say anything about it.

Normally, he's masterful at keeping his outward emotional expressions in check. But for once, he finds himself so deeply upset, such a tight feeling in his chest, that he can't sit there and bear it with a blank face like he normally does with everything else. He ends up having to walk away, quietly slipping away to go walk it off to sulk and seethe alone.

The campus is fairly empty this late, so it's easy to get some fresh air by oneself as he mulls over it. Even though he's by himself, he sighs, has to stop and pinch at and rub the bridge of his nose in irritation. Getting this worked up over a crush, what is he, a grade schooler? It's embarrassing, even if he's the only one who knows. Even having what would be called a "crush" is embarrassing, really, it feels infantile. It seems like something that would be laughable if other people caught onto it. Ugh.

He keeps walking, until he's out of the dorm, slowly moping his way across the campus, long since gone quiet and still due to the lateness of the hour, no one else around. Makes his way over to a bench in an empty campus building.

Finally he gets to just sit down, takes a deep breath in, deep breath out, tries to relax the tension in his shoulders, tries to calm down. Mentally forces himself to clear his thoughts, leaving a blank slate so he can transition to thinking about something else to hopefully take his mind off things, and just allows the first thought that pops up to come to the forefront of his mind. Unfortunately, that thought is:

Which one do you like more?

Dammit. Can't clear his mind after all.

And God, that feels childish. Like how young kids quarrel over who is the best friend of someone else. Just thinking about it feels embarrassing, even if the thought is just to himself.

But it does seem like question that has an answer. After all, when he thinks about it, he can form a pretty solid ranking in his head of acquaintances, and which ones he's more fond of than others. Surely you have the same.

No, that's a stupid question. Obviously it would be him.

...Right?

Yes, it's a ridiculous question because it's obvious. You spend more time with him, you know him far better... it's a foolish question, he shouldn't even be worried.

Still, he can't get rid of the gnawing, unpleasant feeling in his chest, it's eating away at him, driving him up the wall. It takes a while before he can bring himself to go back.

By the time he does so, though, it's fairly late into the night, you're clearly exhausted (no doubt largely due to having your energy essentially siphoned out of you), you speak in that sort of "departure" tone as people do when they're indicating the end of a visit as you say that well, I should be getting back...

Maybe it's the heat of the moment, the lateness of the night drawing out impulsiveness, the possessive irritation and intense emotions, perhaps some need to feel reassurance, some sense of reclaiming something, that emboldens him. Maybe he's still just irked about not having gotten to spend any real time with you. Or maybe his earlier crisis has left him with a desperate need for confirmation. Regardless, for once, his impulse wins over his inhibition, over any self-control. He finds the words coming out without thinking.

It's rather late. You could just stay with me, if you want.

He stiffens as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

It's not as if you're that naive. It would be one thing if he said there was a spare room or something, but directly telling you you can stay in his own room has very obvious implications that he definitely can't excuse his way out of, and he's fairly certain you're definitely not at that point, at least not yet, and his skin crawls at the realization that saying that most likely just ruined any chances of ever reaching that if anything. All that effort, all this time and careful planning, and he may have very well knocked all that down in one sentence.

He starts to try and back out of it, heartrate going up with a moment of panic, opening his mouth and getting out a brief stammering attempt — ah, nevermind, if you don't—

Okay!

There's a few moments of quiet. Blinking at you with a numb expression before seemingly processing your words. You've never seen him undergo quite such a loss of composure within a second, eyes going wide open and stumbling over his words.

I... Well, a... alright. Then, you... I'll, ah, it's over there...

But it's endearing, really. You find yourself smiling while you walk back. He keeps talking about something else entirely, as if to distract you both from any acknowledgement of the exchange that just occurred. At least he manages to successfully distract you into looking at something off in the distance once you reach the room so you don't see the slight tremor to his hands getting the door unlocked and open.

The night lasts a long time. You can still hear the muffled sound of the noise going on outside as the other students continue to do whatever it is they're all doing (some collective game or another, being far too loud), but you manage to talk at least loud enough to hear yourselves over them... and continue to talk... and sit down... and then you lay down... and then you're both side by side... and then your legs brush up against each other... and then there's a few awkward moments of silence...

You do like him quite a bit, so, you're fine with it. He doesn't flinch or pull back when you lean over onto him, doesn't shift when you pull yourself closer, instead wrapping an arm around you. One thing leads to another, as such matters tend to go over. It's awkward at first, of course, like most friend-to-lover situations are -- once the heat of the moment is over, you're left panting and sweaty and you both sort of look up at the same moment and your eyes meet. A few seconds of silence pass. For such a composed person, you've never seen him quite so flustered... but it's cute. You find yourself grinning and giggling and reveling in the ecstasy.

You're happy about it. You get the sense he's happy about it too. You fall asleep pretty quickly, enveloped by warmth.

And he is happy. Truly. It doesn't even feel real.

But he's also very, very worried. Panicked. It begins to set in before he can even properly appreciate the bliss of the moment.

Even if you are willingly with him, even if you love him, that almost makes things worse, because now he has to work with the fact that the social expectation is to increase time with you and that he can be more openly attached, but still have to be careful not to go too far. Not to mention, this makes things more fragile. Riskier. Doesn't it? You're going to be more observant. It will be harder to hide certain behaviors from you. You'll be more careful and critical of what he does as a natural means of protecting yourself, you'll notice any slips of the tongue he might have gotten away with before.

Besides, this part is just one step of many, so he can't afford to relax. He thinks back to that same concept as before, that the social interworkings of all this sort of thing is like a game, a competition. If he lets his guard down and assumes everything is fine now, that just opens the possibility of being caught unprepared if something bad does happen. No, now he has to be even more vigilant and even more protective than before, and more careful of limits.

Nor are said expectations and their limits always clear. Where does the line of acceptable behavior get drawn? Does it not vary from person to person, from one act to the next? He can't afford to find out by trial and error, either, that's too risky.

For a short while, he contemplates if maybe he could get away with just one or two small abnormalities. After all, everyone has flaws, and people expect that partners will have flaws. Can he outright tell you to not interact with a specific person? Is that normal? No, that would definitely be seen as controlling. There's definitely some things he can determine by thinking it through like that, but that doesn't apply to every situation, which is the greatest concern.

And perhaps more importantly, it makes everything feel harder to deal with. It was easier when he had to refrain entirely. Now, it's one of those situations where having a taste of something makes one all that much more weak to craving for it, makes it all that much more alluring than when you had no concept of what the experience was truly like before.

At least his nerves are calmed by the fact that you spend more time in his presence. He doesn't have to deal with intrusive thoughts of concern about what you're doing and if something could be wrong at any given moment.

Perhaps most relieving of all is that other people seem to back off to a greater extent than they already did. You must have told people.

Well, most people. Most people back off, seem to respect him enough to give you two a bit of space while still being friendly towards you both. Don't get too physically close when talking to you, and certainly don't touch you.

Except for one.

The only upside to you being so close to Kalim is that, by extension, you see him more often than you would have just him on his own, as the two are often together. Granted, you're obviously spending more time with him anyway, but now that he's with you more often, that means he gets to witness you two interact, and on the rare occasion you were seeking out Kalim for something, he's usually there too.

You two get along very well. Which he's very frequently forced to bear witness to for the entire duration of your interactions, quietly sitting there with a clenched jaw and fingernails digging into his thighs and the occasional eye twitch that hopefully goes unnoticed. At the same time, that's comforting in its own way, as he can directly witness it rather than have to be psychologically tormented by knowing you two interact but not knowing the details and specifics.

But unlike how Jamil himself would give plenty of space to Kalim and a darling, Kalim does not do the same for him. He's still talkative with you, and touchy too. Far too much for the sake of sanity. He constantly grabs at you, hugs you when he sees you (for several extended seconds, not just for a moment), gets far too close into your personal space when talking. On more than one occasion, he's insisted on trailing along with you two for this or that venture, being an oblivious third wheel — which is made far worse by the fact that you don't seem to mind at all, paying them both equal amounts of attention.

At first, he tries to apply some reason to it. Maybe he thinks it's fine since the two of them are inherently close. Maybe he doesn't realize just how intense he is, or doesn't think he's passing the boundaries of what's considered acceptable. Or...

...And then he realizes that that's giving Kalim's intellect way too much credit. No, it's just how he is, nothing more. He's just outright not thinking about it.

This can become an issue, to say the least. Over time, he does his best to try and avoid you both coming into contact, tries to memorize schedules and give Kalim a wide berth to ensure minimal contact. Nonetheless, of course, it doesn't always work. He finds himself grinding his teeth, stiffening up as he watches you two interact. A person with less self-control would have certainly put the boy in a chokehold at least once by now, but he manages to bite his tongue. Can't just let him have this one thing in peace? Have something to himself? No, of course not, of course he has to be the one to suffer like this... despite the thoughts in his head, he has to be careful not to let that pessimism show in any form of outward bitterness, has to keep a neutral face and mildly exasperated voice at best, pretending any frustration towards the other is due to his high energy and antics and not the fact that just watching you two talk ignites violent instincts he didn't even know he possessed. But there's not much else he can do other than tolerate it.

Besides, it's not as if that's the only person he has to worry about either. Now that you're actually attached to him, he has to ensure that you stay that way, seeing as plenty of people would gladly take his place. But rather than just dealing with others, part of keeping you means making sure you're attached to him.

Unfortunately for you, this does not manifest as exceptional kindness towards you, nor trying to please you, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he could be sweet to you, shower you with affection and attention and gifts and so on... but that is a form of "losing." Making it too obvious that he needs you. There's a chance you'd get bored. After all, why take the "wholesome" way, when that isn't guaranteed? Especially when what is so often deemed the wrong way of doing things, has a guarantee to work. Frankly, that way has a higher success rate, so he sees no reason not to take it.

He has plenty of subtle, conniving means of prying into your mind without you really noticing it's intentional. You, well, you're incredibly easy to manipulate -- and that's a good thing. He likes it that way. Every single trick in the book, you respond perfectly.

It's fairly easy to discern any insecurities you have, some he was already aware of and some that become more evident as you become more emotionally open around him. So he can pick some nice words and compliments that are just a little bit backhanded, have the slightest of implication of a double-meaning shortcoming or insult laden in them, you visibly seem to notice, and sure enough, it's only a matter of time before you express some insecurity over the the thing in question -- and he's right there to assure you that it's entirely fine, or even appreciated... the unspoken implication being that yes, the thing you're insecure about is true, but he likes it. Worded in just the right way so that you won't feel like it's intentional, no, you're sure he had the best of intentions and meant to make you feel good, but it just came out the wrong way, or you're just being too sensitive, or he's just being how guys can be where they're a bit obtuse to how their words might not be as helpful as they intend. He's clearly trying to make you feel happy, right? You appreciate that in its own right.

Besides, it's easy to reassure you with physical affections, too. That becomes another frequent element of your day to day life... he's a fairly restrained person in public, and much prefers being alone and behind closed doors rather than being together while around others. Besides, even if not just for getting to interact more directly with you, being alone in the dorm means being able to relax and unwind... and get out any stress.  Which he has a great deal of -- you can't even begin to imagine the level of stress this boy has pent up, given the hectic nature of his daily life.

He's not particularly "kinky," per se, not really into any particular paraphilias or extreme forms of bondage or use of much tools, so much as he is simply rough. He tends to grab rather hard. Likes holding you down the whole time in some way, restraining some part of you with his own hands, often pinning your forearms down or grabbing the underside of your knees and pressing your thighs against your chest with force. His hand often ends up on your throat. He has a tendency to be rather harsh with it overall, merely rutting into you with animal-like forcefulness, leaving you exhausted and sore... although he at least seems to get flustered about it after the fact, mumbling apologies and getting you water, holding you close and all that.

You do notice some of the more... aggressive elements of the his sexuality, but it doesn't concern you. It's fairly common for someone of his age and sex and all that, and besides, it's normal for people's sexual tendencies to be non-reflective of their character otherwise. You have no reason to think of it as anything worth noting, and no negative thoughts cross your mind, other than the soreness and the tendency for bruising. If anything, the whole "gap moe" between the roughness in the heat of the moment and his usual collectedness versus the sheepishness afterwards is rather cute, really, that that's the one thing that such a normally composed person as himself can get easily embarrassed by. It reaches a point where you're more or less used as some kind of stress toy... but you don't mind at all. It does make you feel loved, which is also a critical part of the intent.

But outside of direct expressions of affection, he ensures he's very subtle in his ways. Being outwardly nosy would just irritate you.

Sure, he wonders what you're looking at whenever you stare at your phone screen, but doesn't fall for the urge to lean over and look, you'd probably find that annoying. He just waits until you go to sleep to look through it, checking the times of certain messages being sent, scrolling through conversations each night until reaching the point of the last time he checked, occasionally taking screenshots and sending them to himself before going back and deleting both the messages on your end and the photos themselves.

Likewise, he doesn't linger around when you're talking on the phone trying to have a private conversation or the like, no, he just quietly gets his own phone out, opens the audio recording app, and leaves it in the room while he goes off to do something else, plays it back later when you're not around. He doesn't ask who certain people are and why you interact with them, instead opting to do some digging on his own time, seeing as there's plenty of online information on nearly everyone, or simply networks his way around into finding out more about a certain person.

All very carefully ensuring you don't perceive any clinginess, any obsessiveness or possessiveness. Nothing that would annoy you or turn you off. He manages to never really appear very bothered or curious about anything, and never exhibits any behavior that would ever lead you to even consider the possibility of what is actually happening in reality. You would never think of him as anything but a very healthy partner — in fact, more so than the average person, he doesn't exhibit any of the controlling or intrusive behaviors you hear people complain about in their own partners. You think of him as an exemplary one.

But nonetheless, every now and then, as time goes on, he starts to just barely get this sense that he's too close to reaching a point where things become unbalanced against him. That whole concept he was worried about, where you might feel like he needs you more than you need him -- and while he's fairly certain that's true, he can't have you sensing it. Yes, he's sure you're starting to get bored, to get complacent, and soon you'll probably want something new and more exciting. The fact that he's essentially surrounded by an ocean of competition doesn't help his nerves. He's practically like some poor animal trying to protect its kill from a horde of other predators that would gladly steal it from him the moment he looks away for so much as a second.

But if he's outwardly worried, insecure about it, comes across as desperate or needy, that will only turn you off to him.

So he takes an entirely different approach.

Suddenly, you find that he seems to be oddly absent. You've developed a habit of walking to certain classes together, but suddenly he stops showing up to the regular spot where you meet up. Disappears and is nowhere to be found during your lunch periods. Doesn't send as many texts. When you do see him, he seems absent-minded or distracted, not spending more than a small amount of time before apologizing and claiming to have something needing to be dealt with before disappearing again. Is suddenly unable to spend the night over, claiming to be busy with something. In truth, he's just gone back to watching you from a distance... but you don't know that, of course. And, although it is greatly difficult on his end, he has to even refrain from being as physically affectionate, often standing, keeping his laptop on his lap while working and so on, so you can't lean onto or embrace as easily, and even more painfully, not being able to spend nights over means having to sleep alone without your affectionate snuggles, and having to just jerk off when he could be inside you instead. Sigh... such painful efforts to go to for the sake of security.

It works perfectly. It becomes clear in no time at all that you're a bit hurt by it, which quickly turns into outright concern and insecurity. You get this sad look on your face whenever he "has to" leave, look at the ground. You start to speak in a softer voice when you ask about doing something together later. And, very much to his satisfaction, you stop talking as much to others even compared to when you spent more time with him, opting to sulk by yourself, presumably in too poor of a mood to socialize.

Eventually -- perhaps a bit disappointed and fed up with waiting, as he was really hoping that you would outright address it and ask about his sudden distance, but oh well, perhaps a bit of a push is necessary -- he seems to "realize" how upset you are one afternoon that he (now a rare occurrence) stays with you throughout the day, and you wrap your arms around him, rest your head on his chest.

Ah, I've been neglecting you, haven't I... I've been so busy, I didn't even notice.

You pout, but you nod.

He puts a hand on top of your head. You always seem to like that. Gives you a sort of warm, endeared smile. Ah. Sorry. I'll be more careful. I hope you can forgive me?

He might feel a little bit guilty, sure, but it's also an incredibly satisfying feeling when you nod again. But not so satisfying as what comes after that stage, when he reverts back to suddenly giving you plenty of attention and affection, even apologizing again for the period of neglect, and seeing how happy it makes you. You seem incredibly relieved and ecstatic, you respond more affectionately than you even did before, and perhaps, he can't help but notice, you seem to be even more clingy and desperate to please, as if afraid of losing the closeness again, now that you've regained it.

Next time, it doesn't take you as long to get desperate. Because of course, there is a next time. It's inevitable that the relief and worry wears off just a bit, and he can detect just the slightest subtraction of affection from you as you begin to drift into a "comfortable" state once again. He doesn't like that state. Sure, you're still affectionate, but not as much as he would like. And your affection lacks the sense of neediness and insecurity and clinginess that gives him a sort of exhilarating, ego-boosting high that the "comfortable" levels of affection just doesn't provide. So inevitably, he has to get a bit distant again, although it never takes quite as long as the first time before you get clingy and desperate and you go through the cycle all over again.

Soon you seem to have a constant subconscious level of fear, he doesn't even have to try and distance himself. You'll ask a questions at random that's just an obvious plea for reassurance. You'll check to affirm that you'll be going through the same routine as always the next day where you spend a certain block of time together, followed by a  quiet 'right?' that's dripping with the perfect level of insecurity. Your grip around him when you're lounging around and resting against him is always tighter than it was at the very beginning. You're touchier altogether, often leaning and embracing and nuzzling, whereas in the "comfortable" state you might have been on the other side of the room doing your own thing or the like. You start performing little gestures of affection more often. Whenever you're alone at night in one dorm or the other (increasingly often his, as he's more or less convinced you to spend most nights in a dorm that doesn't have ceiling leaks and enough dust to fill a lung), you tend to be more provocative, and not at all subtly, opting to walk around in underwear and having completely ditched those pajamas you were provided with by the administration when you first arrived. You initiate more often, too, oftentimes just randomly latching on and climbing onto his lap and rolling your hips forward, latching your mouth onto his. You wrap your legs around his waist when you're on your back, rather than just having them spread apart, you latch your arms around him and pull him so close your bodies are pressed together, the noises that come out of your throat sound so much more desperate and needy than before.

A back-and-forth, push-and-pull -- the push that puts distance between you just makes you all that much easier to pull back in, and reaps great rewards from you when he finally does.

It's euphoric. It's perfect. It feels like complete and total control. You're so desperate. Whenever you're clinging and pressed up to him afterwards, he often has to pull your head close up against his chest so you don't see his expression. He knows full well there's a sinister sort of glee to the grin on his face, but for once, even he can't refrain.

Well, it's almost perfect. Everything with you is perfect, but there are obstacles that remain preventing everything from being perfect. And at this point, they might as well be dealt with.

Despite all your clinginess and the effectiveness, there are still assigned times for classes and extracurricular responsibilities (which he temporarily thought about abandoning, but that would come off as a bit too needy) that require you to be apart. And during that time, as he's learned from having "accidentally" put his phone in your bag and recording the whole time a few times, he knows what you're doing. Identifies the voices of those you talk to, and can't help but notice that not only are they the same people consistently, but there's one in particular that makes those violent urges flare up again. Hell, he snapped a pencil in half by accident just while listening to the playback.

No matter. He'll just have to resort to his Plan B. It wasn't his first choice, seeing as there are potential complications, but he has no real reservations. He can't put a rift between you and Kalim, unfortunately, as that would likely just become problematic for himself later down the road... he'll have to work with just keeping you two apart, whenever he can't be right there. That's the only real way to deal with that problem.

Besides, he's only a genuine issue during one specific time slot. The schedules of various students aren't always consistent day to day. Some lectures are longer, labs tend to be shorter, so on and so on, people have different time gaps, some students even eat lunch at different times depending on the day of the week.

You have one particular gap of time where you have no classes, but he does. It's not too big of a deal, seeing as you usually just go over to the Scarabia dorm these days and talk to some of the others anyway... but therein lies the issue for him.

On one of those days, you're a few minutes later than usual, as he left his pen sitting on the desk in the last class, and you went back with him just to keep talking, opting to take the extra minute or so to stay together, as it wouldn't be more than a minute or two delay. With the majority of the throng of students already rushed to their next destination, the halls are empty as you reach the spot where you usually part ways until meeting up again later in the day. But as you say something about seeing him later—

Oh, before you go, one more thing.

You pause. You turn your head back around to look at him.

Hm?

...You jolt at the sudden commotion, snapping out of a daze. That big clocktower bell ringing off in the distance at the middle of the campus, followed by the loud sounds of dozens of students' chattering and footsteps as they head on to another class.

Oh, the period is already over.

...Wait, what...?

Your head throbs. You feel dizzy, disoriented. For a brief moment, your surroundings seem to spin around you, until you shake your head in an attempt to clear it, and the feeling seems to go away. But you're not in the spot you were in what seems seconds ago, instead sitting down at a desk. There's a tingly, fuzzy feeling in your head.

Oh, right. You opted to take some time for yourself this time around in an empty classroom because—

...because...?

Right. The book on the desk is open. You were studying. You seem to recall some of the information retained, even if you were sort of spaced out for the duration of the studying itself, everything for the last little while feels like a blur. Was there a test or something coming up? There isn't one today, but you must have remembered to study for a reason. Your mind was preoccupied, one of those moments where you realize you've been spacing out for a long time, so lost in thought that you don't really remember the words your eyes have been scanning over, nor your own actions.

More importantly, you remember talking just before you were about to head off, Jamil was going to tell you something important, but admittedly, you can't remember what he said. You feel sort of bad about it. You just hope it wasn't something too important, like something you were supposed to go pick up or something like that... you're sure to ask later, and apologize for spacing out while you're at it. But it must have been no big deal, based on his own words.

Tell you the truth, I don't recall either... ah, it's been a long day. I'm sure it wasn't important.

You end up making a habit of it. You find yourself ending up in the same spot on that day each week, like clockwork, without even thinking about it. You're pretty sure you gravitate towards doing so out of a need for a brief rest to rejuvenate your energy for the day.

...But it does feel strange. The first time, you dismissed it as just spacing out, and the second time as well, but you keep noticing you follow the pattern without intending to. On the third week, you very specifically told yourself you wouldn't be sitting out today like you had the past two weeks, since you felt plenty energetic and missed talking to Kalim and the others you usually spend that time with... yet found yourself ending up there anyway. Your head always feels fuzzy when you seem to recuperate your energy and alertness. You mentioned it to Jamil once, and he merely told you to just stay consciously aware and not drift off into thought right before that time period... and it did work, at least that one following week. Then it went right back to the other habit, and from then on, you find yourself alternating, sometimes going to be with friends, but quite often ending up by yourself, completely lost in a blank state of mind. You feel dizzy, disoriented. Each time, it feels like there's some sort of gap in your consciousness, like waking up from a dream.

It's not the only sudden onset of odd occurrences, either.

The first occasion of the other occurrence leaves you entirely bewildered. You did notice that one of your friends seemed to avoid you for a few days in a row, but you figured he was just busy, so you're caught off-guard when he comes up to you looking down, apologetic expression on his face.

Hey, I just wanted to apologize again for the other day... I don't know what I did, but I'm really sorry if I upset you...

You find yourself in a confused stupor for a few moments, unsure of what is even being addressed. After a moment, your following questioning prompts the boy to elaborate on how you exploded out of nowhere... I figured you must have been really mad at me for something... followed by a brief recollection of some choice unkind things you apparently came up to him to say out of the blue, and another apology. You stammer something about how it was fine, you don't even remember any of that, you're not mad at all... you must have been mentally preoccupied and just blurted out something without thinking, or so is the best explanation you can conjure.

You don't think too much of it, though, until virtually the exact same thing happens again. Another person coming up to you, asking if they did something wrong followed by a claim that you released some sudden angry outburst seemingly at random and didn't provide explanation. You try to reassure them of the same thing as you told the first, making note to yourself to be more consciously aware of yourself. The only thing you can really think of that makes any sense would be your initial conclusion... or, perhaps, it does strike you for a brief moment that they're just messing with you, but the sincerity and slight hurt in their faces and voices makes you second-guess that idea. You must have actually said those things and had such outbursts, even if you don't recall, seeing as multiple people are making the same claims.

It doesn't take long for the matter to get worse. Soon, you find that when you come up to the same friends, smiling as you approach to initiate conversation, they merely narrow their eyes, huff and glare, turn the other way, sometimes walk off. You must have done something to upset them, or perhaps they're still upset about the outburst you apparently had...? You try to ask, but you get nothing but glares, harsh words telling you to just leave me alone or similar dismissals. To make matters worse, you're questioned by others as well -- what did they do to deserve that?, but everyone seems to think you should know what you did, and never elaborate.

You're bewildered. It feels like being an outside observer to some sort of mass delusion. You have absolutely no recall of doing anything that would upset anyone.

You even considered the notion of it being some sort of large-scale prank wherein you'd later be told they were all just kidding and trying to confuse you, but as time passes it becomes clear it was serious. That being said, you know you didn't do anything, your mind can only think of a few other possibilities. Why would people lie to you?

It's as confusing as it is hurtful. You didn't actually do anything to anyone to deserve this... the fact that multiple people would be needlessly cruel for no reason feels unfair and painful, although you suppose it's not at all unheard of, school environments are known to generate some of the worst people. You hope it will pass.

At least you still have some solace. Yes, really, the timing was at least as good as it could have been, seeing as now, you have someone you know will believe you and think the best of you no matter what, and will give you the comfort and reassurance you need. After some prompting about how downtrodden and melancholy you seem, you do finally open up about it.

Jamil doesn't seem particularly concerned about the matter, though. He shrugs it off, dismisses your concerns, although you do sense that he's trying to make you feel better. He dismisses the idea of it being some sort of conspired ordeal, says that's just being paranoid, but the alternative he suggests does seem helpful -- that you did indeed do what you were told you did, but with reason.

Perhaps you're under excessive stress. That would put anyone in a poor mood, and you may be too preoccupied to really recall the occurrence... or, it's likely that those individuals draw negative emotions out of you. You shouldn't spend time around people that make you feel poorly.

And then, after a pause, he adds,

Besides, you've never been anything less than kind towards me. That would suggest others are the issue, not yourself.

You appreciate the input, but the situation still certainly bothers you. It's not only your friends, either, that start to behave unfairly and even cruelly towards you. You would not have thought yourself to be someone who would be targeted for any malice, as you've tried to be nice and considerate and have never done anything you can recall that would have made you an enemy to random people.

You're completely caught off-guard, then, when some people seem to begin treating you as such at complete random. People you don't know very well, or have even never interacted with. You were sitting in a classroom when someone walked in, grabbed your things and ran off with them before you could take it back out of their grasp. And then, within days of that incident, someone comes out from the shadow of the side hall as you're walking, shoves you so hard you fall face-first to the ground, and runs off before you can identify them. Then, you leave your bag sitting down for a few minutes during a break, only to find someone, be it out of malice or carelessness, must have hit your bag with some heavy object, seeing as the laptop the school provided you with is smashed, forcing you to get a new one after profusely apologizing. It gets worse and worse, people coming up to you just for some cruel act or another, and now you don't even have friends to defend you... they only seem to bother you when Jamil isn't around either. You imagine that's because they know better than to provoke him, maybe.

You stay quiet about it for a while. Wouldn't want to burden him with such a thing, and you hope that it will pass... even at prompting, you merely mumble that you're fine, that you're just tired, that nothing is wrong. To say you're being bullied or anything of the sort would feel childish. It's just people being jerks, surely they'll move on and mess with someone else. Telling him would just upset him for your sake, and then you'd feel like you were overreacting, blowing it out of proportion. It's just rudeness that everyone will deal with from someone at some point. You're not even sure who a lot of them are, though... it's almost always, for whatever reason, students you're pretty sure you've never even interacted with, as if intentionally doing so in order to ensure you won't know their names or faces and can't confront them or report them.

Although it gets harder to handle, the longer it goes on. Getting tripped, shoved around, stolen from, even a few times getting things thrown at you... you find yourself becoming quieter, increasingly tired and depressed. It wears you down, emotionally and psychologically. You're always paranoid someone will come up to you and do something. You start to shut yourself in. You take longer to reply to the friends you have left. You start leaving earlier, when you usually hang out with them... even then, several of your friends no longer seem to want to hang around you anyway. It hurts.

And eventually, it becomes too much for you to keep trying.

It's almost startling when Jamil comes back to his own dorm room one day, for you to already be there. He's usually the first one back, while you spend an indefinite amount of time with friends and never come back at a consistent time, so he's caught off-guard to find you already back in the room. Curled up in bed, chest rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths. Your eyes seem a bit puffy, swollen, the flesh around your eyes reddened.

Poor thing. Yes, he did account for the fact that you'd inevitably get your feelings hurt from the acts, and when you started finding yourself all alone, but he does still feel bad, seeing you so upset. In fact, the realization that someone else caused this -- because it was, after all, someone else who actually committed the cruel acts, who did mean things to you, and thereby they are the ones responsible -- he has to swallow the subsequent feeling of sudden rage down. It's a necessary consequence.

The guilt doesn't last for too long. He climbs into bed over you, lays by your side, wraps an arm around you... he's not sure if it's a subconscious action in your sleep, or if you stir for just a moment, but regardless, you suddenly grunt as you turn over to face him instead, instinctively snuggling up close to the warmth, nuzzling your face against his chest. Your hands latch onto his undershirt, fingers curling to secure their place before you return to the soft little breaths, lulled back to deep sleep by the steady heartbeat against your face.

When you wake up, he's sure you'll be at a breaking point, you'll finally break down and talk about how mean and cruel people have been to you lately... and then he can assure you that it'll all be fine, leave for a while and come back, tell you they won't be bothering you anymore because he took care of it, but you should probably not go off on your own again anyway... yes, that will work. That should go over very smoothly, given all the steps that have been taken to ensure it.

And then... that will be everything. All the little obstacles, all either out of the way entirely, or well within the realm of being manageable.

Yes, with that, that momentary, miniscule guilt dissipates, replaced by a swelling, euphoric feeling of satisfaction and smug pride. Everything worked out exactly as it should. He runs his hand over the back of your head in slow, soft motions.

If it all really is some sort of social game, then this must be what it feels like to have won. He couldn't be happier with that outcome.

[srbachchan]

DAY 6092

Jalsa, Mumbai Oct 23, 2024 Wed 10:16 pm

Birthday - EF Kankana Chakraborty .. Deepak Jain .. Atul Kumar Shrivastava Thursday, 24 October

and our greetings to the Ef from the Ef on this special day .. with love

❤️

I am ahead of it on this hour and wanting to be in the spirit of being so in the coming days .. errr ... DAYS

It has been a sluggish day .. a short break after some hectic work schedules .. and an early call again tomorrow ..

The anticipation of the KIDs with their wit and confidence , in their amazing form awaits me .. and a wonder for all that shall witness it soon to know of what I have been talking about ..

There is ofcourse a lamentation towards the pending large sections of work that need to be done for Babuji's work .. and one that is now becoming a MUST DO , SOON ..

I shall need the inputs from all concerned to be able to put together , what bears in my mind .. and the immense facilities available 'technically' do seem challenging .. but then it is a challenge that must be taken ..

Assimilation is an art too .. how and when to execute it .. and the manner in which it needs the perfection of a finality , is daunting ..

But it must be DONE .. time is running out and before it reaches the finishing tape .. I need to strive to be ahead and breast it , to be declared a winner ..

fingers and hands that are concerned about fixing my face and hair .. a bother .. its not going to make any difference , but they do it .. and the reason being that the camera lenses are such now that they pick up every grain of your skin hair etc., and it looks bad for a broadcast .. Or so they say while holding up the game time of the show ..

But the ending be of the words of Babuji and how ecstatic they make me , when I discover that they be similar to mine ..

And his golden words :

'मेरे लिये मेरे पाठकों का स्नेह सौ पदों-पुरुकारों-अलंकरणों से बढ़ कर रहा है '

for me the love of my readers has ever been greater than titles, awards and the graciously decorated complimentary words

I believe .. for I am ..

Amitabh Bachchan

[mochinomnoms]

Funfacts about PTM Characters!

Still chilling out from finishing my thesis, but I had a few fun facts about the side characters for PTM that I'd thought you'd all enjoy in the meantime! It's gonna include some of the canon characters as well as the ocs!

This includes some very minor, but not story defining, spoilers for PTM so proceed with caution! As a reminder, PTM takes place a school year after the current timeline!

Canon Characters:

Jade and Floyd made bets on who would get together with their crush first during their 3rd year. The loser has to let the winner(s) plan and execute the most humiliating way to confess. Neither twin is winning. Azul is currently winning with his bet of “neither of you will, you cowards.”

Ortho went to most of Idia's classes during his time at NRC, so he was allowed to “skip” repeating those years when becoming an official student by taking a competency exam. However, he is still staying for a year since the test only allows for core classes and not his electives. He's happy to do so, though.

Idia stayed at NRC to complete his internship with the school, much to his disappointment. He works as a Technomage Intern with the college's technology department.

The overblot cast got closer with each other and Yuu than expected over the summer due to Crowley and S.T.Y.X. requiring them to take part in a “summer camp” to monitor them and their health. Leona still hates Malleus though. Malleus is still mostly unaware of this.

Malleus still does not know how to use technology. Sebek and Yuu have a weekly call with him via a looking glass mirror that acts like a video call. Malleus enjoys it very much.

Kalim switched places with Jamil and is now vice housewarden, while Jamil is now housewarden. Neither's families were happy about this, but were shut down by Kalim being surprisingly firm about his decision. To everyone's surprise, Kalim does very well as a vice over a housewarden, though Scarabia has had significantly fewer parties since the switch.

Nearly all the clubs that had the 3rd years as captains/heads had one of the 2nd years take over into their 3rd year. Ruggie is now Spelldrive Captain, Azul is head of the Board Game Club, and the Gargoyle Studies Club is headed by Yuu. The Pop Music Club is also more formalized now, with Kalim as the head. The Science Club and Film Studies have an NPC 3rd year as heads.

Yuu isn't actually that bad at singing as everyone has (and will continue to do so) suggested. Most of the student body had classical training growing up as part of their privileged upbringing, and Yuu has to compete with that.

At least two pairs of canon characters will get together at the end! Guess who tehe.

OC:

Silas likes to eat bugs and regularly digs in the dirt behind Ramshackle to find something crunchy to munch. They did it once in front of Jamil and the poor guy screamed in horror.

Yev became the new Pomefiore housewarden due to being able to produce the best posion, as per tradition. However, he's actually quite bad at being a housewarden and his vice is the one that everyone tends to listen to.

The Salson triplets are from the TWST equivalent of Salem, and have a North easterner accent, similar to Boston I think. Wynfred and Marion mimic English, or Rosarian, accents, but Silas does not.

There are two more mermen in the school, minus the canon cast and two ocs. They aren't important to the story, but their names are Mariano De La Reyes and Benji (last name still pending). They're based off of Marina and Benjamin from the third Little Mermaid movie.

Speaking of mermen, Aspen is a squidmer and is based on the colossal squid. He's about 18 ft long and still growing. Tony is based on a tiger shark, but is the runt of his litter, hence why he's so small.

Tommy, the white rabbit beastmen that was introduced as Riddle's new vice, is notorious for always running late. He never has actually been late to anything due to parkouring everywhere and climbing the castle walls to enter the classrooms through the windows. Floyd learned how to parkour from him. Riddle hates everything about this.

Briefly mentioned in the last chapter was the botany professor, Kallpa. Kallpa is based on Kronk and the uncle of Yev.

Nurse Goethel has a wife and two daughters that she brings with her to family days on campus. The daughters are roughly age 11 and 13 and each time they've come have designated a student as the new person they want to marry. Two years ago it was Leona and Trey, last year it was Azul and Jamil, this year it's Jack and Ortho. There is no reasoning behind their decision, it's all based on vibes.

James has met Jade and Floyd when they were all very young. James was on his Great Aunt's ship, who was meeting with Papa Leech for unknown reasons. James only remembers them due to their heterochromia eyes, but the twins don't remember anything.

Marion has a really strong sense of smell that is on par with the beastmen. He hates Pomefiore because the dorm and students are heavily perfumed and it gives him a migraine.

Yaqub actually has a twin brother that goes to RSA. He thinks it's funny that it turned out that way and they like to shittalk their schools together on the weekends. RSA is much more chaotic and full of troublemakers than NRC realizes.

At least two pairs of the freshmen will get together at the end of PTM, but it will be a surprise as to who!

And that's all! I have more but I think I'll save them for another time!

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Thomas, Engineer

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know I could have guessed it, but you guys are way better at this than me,” Thomas said, running a hand through his curly brown hair.

“That is only natural, as our programming and design allow for rapid reflex and dexterous manipulation of our extremities,” Sixer said.

Thomas had invited the Padrino back to his quarters for an impromptu fighting game tournament. Sixer and Mace both attended, as well as one of the Galley named Odis, another of the engineers, and of course Roomba was there, though he was having difficulty handling the controller since it was about as big as he was.

Odis and Roomba had already been knocked out, the Galley by elimination and Roomba by… technical knockout, so it was just Thomas and Sixer left. Mace had winner.

“I refuse to lose, especially not while I’m wearing my lucky shirt,” Thomas said. Odis snorted, but the Padrino spun their heads to face him.

“Human Thomas, please explain how the apparel you are wearing will enhance your performance in this competition,” Mace asked, his synthetic voice as unchanging as always.

“Does the apparel provide some sort of stimulant to your body that will change the outcome of this match?” Sixer accused.

“No, nothing like that, it’s just lucky,” Thomas said.

“Please explain,” Mace pressed.

“Gimme a sec, round three is starting, I got this,” Thomas assured himself.

The game was human designed, an indie title called Galactic Brawl! It was your typical fighting game, but it was making the rounds on Earth due to it using characters similar to GAIL member species locked in mortal combat. The humans had assured the intergalactic market that it wasn’t in anyway meant to be detrimental to universal relationships, but to expose humans to other species in a fun and interesting way that younger humans would enjoy. Plus it made the other species look ‘very cool’, which the GAIL members were assured was a good thing.

The players were 1 win a piece, so this would be the tie breaker. Naturally the players had chosen their own race for the game, something Odis and Thomas thought was quite funny, although the characters were caricatures of the real thing. Very buffed up, with bigger action hero muscles and such.

Buttons were mashed, triggers were pulled, combos were pulled off, and Sixer had him on the ropes. But then Thomas got the BRAWL POWER meter all the way up and executed his ultimate move flawlessly, and came out with the win.

“Yes! I told you, lucky shirt!” Thomas cheered, Odis laughed so hard he fell over, and the Padrino sat there looking as dumbfounded as they could without actual faces.

“Please explain,” they said in unison.

“The shirt?” Thomas pulled the hem of the shirt down so they all could see its glory, a ratty old gray Tee with the sleeves cut off. It had smudged names all over both the front and back. “I got it at this punk concert right before I went into the academy, got all the band members to sign it for me after the show! Good show, too, they came into the crowd while they were still playing, and…”

“Easy, humy, just tell us why the shirt is lucky,” Odis said, tossing back some chips.

“Right, yeah. So I wore this shirt for every test, quiz, and exam I ever got during my training, aced all of them with flying colors. Scored me both a guy’s and a girl’s number on the same day, that was cool, and I was wearing it when I applied for my post on the Noah,” Thomas explained. “Bad things do not happen when I’m wearing the lucky shirt.”

“Yeah, they’re not gonna get that,” Odis said smirking.

“Human Thomas, explain this luck phenomenon,” Sixer requested.

“See?” Odis said. “The humans have this thing, they call it ‘being superstitious’, it’s something the humies believe controls the universe.”

“Explain,” requested Mace.

“Okay, so there’s, like, good luck, where good things will happen if you have it, or bad luck, where bad things happen,” Thomas said, trying to explain. “Think of it this way. It’s like little random acts turn out in your favor if you have good luck, like finding money on the ground or it’s pizza day in the cafeteria.”

“And bad luck breaks your mom’s back or something, right?” asked Odis, laughing.

“Yeah, if you step on a crack in the road or something,” Thomas said. “Or breaking a mirror gets your seven years bad luck.”

“You humies believe the most ridiculous things,” Odis said.

“There are acts that can accumulate negative impacts to your existence?” Mace asked.

“Totally man, tons of them. Like last week, I was having lunch in the mess hall, spilled salt everywhere!”

“And this entails what?” Sixer asked.

“Well it’s supposed to invite enmity and future problems, but I threw some over my left shoulder, so it was fine.”

“You humans are so gullible,” Odis said. “This is why we came to earth so often to mess with you.”

“Tell that to the shirt man,” Thomas said.

“So the garment has… accumulated ‘good luck’, therefore you remain in a sustained field of positive chaos,” Sixer said.

“I guess, yeah,” Thomas said. He’d never heard it described that way before, it was probably the most scientifically accurate portrayal of ‘luck’ he’d ever heard.

“You two are not gonna make sense of this, it’s an illogical belief from a less evolved lifeform,” Odis said. “Next thing you know, the kid is going to tell you he doesn’t walk under ladders or let black cats cross his path.”

“First off, I love all cats,” Thomas said indignantly, “secondly, how do you know so much about earth superstitions?”

“Earth movies. You think you can keep the Galley in the dark? We’ve been sneaking onto Earth for generations.”

“Riiight,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Reminder: engineering staff are to head to the WARP core at 1900 hours for new maintenance procedures]

“Oh, man, is it that time already? We better head out,” Thomas said, zipping up his jumpsuit over his lucky shirt. “Thanks Roomba, I totally forgot the time.”

“Beep.”

[Acknowledgments: you’re welcome]

“Smarter every day, good for you buddy. Alright, come on guys, let’s get to the core before Chief Nivan sticks us on plumbing duty,” Thomas clapped his hands together, ushering everyone out of the room.

“Human Thomas, if we may make a request, may we continue to observe you? This ‘lucky shirt’ phenomenon may lead to some observational data previously unknown to us,” Sixer said.

“Sure guys, whatever you need.”

“You’re not gonna get any data,” Odis chided. “The kid is just going to confuse you both.”

“Regardless, we will continue to observe,” Mace said.

The group made their way to the lifts, Odis still grumbling about how stupid the idea of a lucky shirt was, lucky anything really, the whole time. Thomas tried to explain, saying there were tons of lucky objects on Earth, like the rabbit’s foot.

“You mutilate another lifeform for its appendage just to positively charge your own chaos?” Mace asked, surprised.

“That seems counterproductive to what you have described as Karma,” Sixer said.

“Yeah, that wasn’t great, admittedly. Ancient Earthlings weren’t great at critical thinking yet. These days we have synthetic feet, so that doesn’t happen anymore, I don’t think. I got one on my keys, see?” Thomas pulled a key ring out of his pocket and showed off the foot.

“Double luck today,” he said, smiling.

“Fascinating,” the Padrino said in unison.

“Weird,” said Odis.

“Beep.”

[Request: game pad, please?]

Thomas stuffed his keys back in place and pulled the pad out, giving it to the tiny droid on his bag. Roomba had recently started a new game, having earned the highest score possible on PAC-MAN a few cycles previously. Now he’d moved on to Galaga, another port Thomas had made.

“Beep.”

[Information available]

“Hmm?” Thomas looked at Roomba in his bag.

“Beep.”

[Statement: this new game is stimulating]

“Oh my god you’re so freaking cute Roomba,”Thomas gushed. The little droid was getting smarter by the day thanks to the cognitive upgrade the Padrino had given him. He was ‘talking’ in more complex sentences and could ask for more stuff as he wanted it, Thomas was overjoyed!

They stepped off the lift onto the Core deck, where the fuel was stored, as well as where the WARP core was kept. The thing always looked like a captured star to Thomas, suspended in the air by antigravity struts, a shining ball of orange and red fire behind the dozen or so walls of safety fields keeping the room from being vaporized. Chief engineer Nivan was already waiting for them, pouring over a data pad with another maintenance officer. The room itself was vast, lit by the core, at least the size of the cargo bay on the other side of the ship. Rows of control consoles lined the walls, as well as data screens and input terminals.

Thomas dropped his bag by the door and put Roomba on his shoulder where the little robot looped himself around the cord the human had sown into his jumpsuit for the little guy. Roomba muted the game pad but continued playing.

“Hey chief,” Thomas called out. “We’re here for that briefing on the new core terminal procedures like you asked.”

“Yes, thank you Human Thomas,” Nivan said, two of his four spindly arms waving in acknowledgment. Chief Nivan was a Zilont, whose species had no actual set amount of limbs. Some had 2 arms and legs like humans, some had up to 8 of each. Nivan himself had 4 arms, 3 legs, and his torso moved and bent around like rubber, since he had no spine. The species moved via a series of gas bladders, reminding Thomas of this uncomfortable movie he’d seen where a clown made a person out of balloon tubes. But Chief Nivan was an upstanding guy in his opinion, never pushed work onto his subordinates and tried to be as helpful around the engineering deck as possible. Thomas thought he was a cool boss to work for.

“Lets get started”, Nivan said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chief Nivan got them working, showing them how the new terminals worked, and how to input commands into the core controls in case of emergencies. The Padrino picked it up while he was explaining it, but Odis and Thomas needed a demonstration. Thomas watched as Nivan’s odd balloon-esque tentacle limbs punched in commands, taking note of each key he hit.

“Got it?” Nivan asked. Thomas sometimes had a hard time gauging his emotions, what with the beak and all, but he thought the Zilont looked a little tired.

“I think so, yeah. You okay Chief?” Thomas asked. “Need me to grab you some salt water or something?”

“No, thank you Human Thomas. We’re getting run ragged down here. Odds and ends keep disappearing, tools and spare parts, and just yesterday somebody claimed they had their locker ransacked.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, and the maintenance crew is already out of sorts. This is just adding fuel to the-”

The entire room shook violently.

Chief Nivan was cut off by a series of small electrical explosions from the wall of terminals behind him, throwing him a ways away. Thomas threw his arms up to shield his face, making sure to cover Roomba as well. The floor beneath their feet rocked, the entire ship seemingly to jerk several meters to the side. The lights blew out, raining sparks down around the crews working in the core room. Over a fourth of the crew in there were thrown to the side or into a wall at the sudden shift. The walls groaned and creaked at the rapid change, and Thomas saw something that stopped his blood cold. The safety fields holding back the core’s fire were flickering off one by one.

“EVERYONE OUT RIGHT NOW!!!” Thomas yelled, rushing to Nivan. He grabbed two of his four arms and started hauling him towards the door.

“Twins! What the hell happened?!” He questioned, looking to the two Padrino.

“Ships systems registered a local star released a wave of energetic ions creating a solar storm. Detecting multiple failed systems, including-”

“THE CORE YEAH I KNOW!” Thomas cut him off. “We have to get the hell outta here now! Is anyone else in here?”

“Multiple life signs detected. In approximately 3 minutes the last containment field will fail and the core will vaporize everything in this room.”

Thomas set Nivan down outside the safety doors.

“Okay, Mace, you call them out! Sixer, Odis, and I will go get them. MOVE!” Thomas ordered while he rushed up and over one of the hanging walkways. Odis didn’t have time to argue with him, Mace was in the doorway and Sixer was already on the move as well.

“SQUAL!” Odis yelled before getting in gear. Thomas didn’t need a translator for that one. Odis was Galley, and they were generally self centered. Not today.

Thomas must’ve moved 6 crew out of the core room in those first 2 minutes. He saw a third Padrino in the door now, a new unit he hadn’t met yet, talking to Mace and trying to contain the core. Thomas didn’t stop. Whether they bought more time or not, he wasn’t about to leave this room while anyone was still in it, not while time was still on the clock.

Finally the three minutes were almost up. The safety field was down to its last wall. Only a thin blue screen of light stood between them and obliteration. Thomas grabbed the last crewman on his side, a Zilgrat about half his size and started running back towards the door. From what Mace had said, it was just the space ferret and that should be it. Thomas looked over at the others.

Odis’s foot was caught in the railing.

The crewman he’d been sent to get had been thrown down to Sixer who was rushing him outside.

“There are only seconds left, Human Thomas! We must seal the door immediately.”

Thomas looked from the door to Odis.

He ran to the door.

Dropped the Zilgrat at the robot’s feet.

And sprinted towards the Galley.

His lungs hurt. His muscles ached. It was getting hot in the room, each layer missing from the security wall allowing more heat to escape containment.

Thomas jumped up the stairs to Odis.

“Sorry man!” He said as he grabbed the little gray alien’s leg and yanked. The foot dislodged with a sick crunch and Odis howled, high pitched and clutched at his leg.

Thomas had been counting. No time left. The Galley man didn’t weigh much.

Damn.

He really wanted to keep playing games with these guys.

Thomas took Roomba from his shoulder and shoved the little droid into the Galley’s chest before hurling them both over the railing towards the safety of the blast doors. He actually threw them so far and so hard they struck Mace and forced the whole bunch out into the hall.

“SHUT THE DOORS NOW!” Thomas ordered. The Padrino unit he hadn’t met yet, and now probably wouldn’t, hit the release, and the doors slammed shut as the last field lost power.

Thomas threw himself behind a console as vaporized plasma filled the room. The temperature must’ve leapt by several hundred degrees…

For about 3 seconds.

Then the safety fields sprung back to life, holding back the fire. Thomas sucked in oxygen as the ship’s automatic air filters kicked in, sucking the heat out of the room. Emergency coolers clicked on, rapidly suppressing the temperature fluctuations. His skin hurt, and he caught a vague whiff of burning hair.

The console he’d hid behind seemed to shield him from the sheer worst of it, but Thomas would be very glad to get to Med Bay in the next few minutes. Everything burned. Finally shock and lack of clean oxygen let him pass out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas awoke to the sound of Odis and the Padrino… were they yelling?

“I’m telling you,” Odis was saying to someone in a nurse uniform, “if you cut that shirt off him, I will personally teach you how the Galley get even…”

Shirt? What shirt?

Ohhhh.

Thomas started laughing softly, on his bed in the med bay, covered in burn gel.

“I told you guys…” he said hoarsely, “it’s a lucky shirt.”

“Kid!” Odis was standing next to him, leg in a cast. “Kid what the hell were you thinking? Why didn’t you just leave??!”

“Human Thomas, we are please you have not expired,” Sixer said.

“Agreed,” Mace said.

“Thanks guys,” Thomas coughed. “Sorry about the leg, dude, there wasn’t time…”

“My leg? Kid you just got cooked and you’re worried about my leg?” Odis looked at him in disbelief. “You humies are so freaking weird, you should’ve just left me there.”

“Nah… I had that. It’s my lucky day, remember?”

Roomba was sitting on the side table next to his bed. He was holding the game pad, but it wasn’t on.

“Beep.”

[Information Request]

“What’s up buddy? You okay? Sorry I threw you,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Is your unit going to be repaired?]

“Yeah buddy, I’ll be okay. Just got a little too hot in there for a second.”

“Beep.”

[Statement: Unit Thomas is required to be repaired, or ability to complete task {hang out together} will be incomplete]

“Yeah, I love you too buddy,” Thomas said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A quick 2 cycle stint in a regen-pod got Thomas back on his feet and the worst of his burns treated, though he was significantly more tan than he was before. He’d had a short meeting with the captain and first officer, both of whom said something to the effect of ‘what is it with you humans, throwing yourselves into danger?’

He was on his way to the Padrino now, they’d taken Roomba and his main translator for repairs, and to see if they could finally retrace that weird signal he’d heard the other cycle. Since he was told by both the doctors and Odis to focus or rest and recovery, he’d agreed to them babysitting. The spare device in his ear was itchy. He’d be happy to have his back.

When the lift opened, there was Odis the Galley. His cast had been replaced with a prosthetic boot. Thomas stepped in. The doors closed and Odis cleared his throat.

“Listen kid,” the little gray alien started, “that was a real decent thing you did back there the other cycle.”

Thomas looked down at him and shrugged.

“I’m not gonna say it wasn’t a big deal,” Thomas said, “I definitely thought I was gonna die in there. It just didn’t need to be all of us, is all.”

Thomas rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out his keys. He slid the rabbits foot off the ring and held it out to the Galley.

“Here. I think we both need some luck on this ship right now. Have it.”

Odis looked from him to the foot.

“…you sure kid? Didn’t that thing save your life?” Odis said, his usual smirk coming back a little.

“Nah, the shirt saved my life. Plus I feel like I owe you a foot, yeah?”

Odis laughed, shoulders shaking. He took the rabbits foot and stuck it in his pocket.

“Lucky severed animal feet huh? You humies are such deathworlders it’s not even funny.”

“Then why are you laughing, close encounters?”

The lift erupted in laughing fits from the both of them as they made their way down to engineering.

On the engineering deck, the Padrino, along with the small unit known as Roomba, watched the pair leave the lift.

“The human should have expired in the core room,” said Sixer.

“Agreed,” said Mace.

“But he did not,” said Sixer.

“A good thing, yes,” said Mace.

“Beep.”

[Statement: agreed, this is a good thing. New observations can be made now. And new games can be played still]

“Agreed,” said the Padrino in unison.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

JEY RIZZO - JEY USO X Kabana Love (OC)

Request: Okay so yk how the raw before war games when they were mentioning how they needed a 5th member? Well, this universe, it’s a mixed war games so Rhea is in. Cody makes his “call” Randy and a former NXT, newly signed Keiarie or Kabana Love for her ring debut with them. Mr. Main Event takes a notice to her and tries to yk, get his game on the whole night with her.

Thank you for the request @shantinextdoor. I hope you like it 🫶🏽.

taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @alyyaanna @arination99 @empressdede @harmshake @m3llowww @theninthwonder @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @badbitchcentralinc @bebesobrielo @vensusworld

“Well if it isn’t Miss Kabana Love..” Kabana smirked and excused herself from her conversation with Kelani Jordan and turned around to face The American Nightmare himself. 

“Well if it isn’t Mr former executive vice president.” She shot back, laughing when he rolled his eyes. “You not down here tryna become NXT champion are you?” She asked teasingly as she pulled him into a hug. 

Cody laughed. “Nope” he said, popping the ‘p’ “got a special invitation to come down here to watch the show from Shawn”. Kaiarie nodded

“Okay well, unlike you some of us have to work. ” She smirked, patting her NXT Women’s Championship that was wrapped around her waist. “But we should get dinner after.” 

“Oh totally.” Cody said, nodding his head. “I missed you busting my balls every chance you get.” Kabana and Cody  glared at each other before breaking out into smiles. “Come find me after your match”. She gave him a thumbs up before waving as he walked away, both of them oblivious to the two sets of eyes watching them.

“The following match is scheduled for one fall and it is for the NXT women’s championship!” Kabana took a deep breath and shook out her stage fright jitters and her theme song started to blare through the performance center. 

She smiled as she appeared at the top of the stage listening to the fans chant her name as she held up her championship, her opponent in the ring already glaring daggers at her. “Making her way to the ring, from Chicago, Illinois Kabana Love!”  She entered the ring walking up to Tiffany Stratton and started talking her shit, title raised high in the air. 

Kabana smirked as the referee stepped in between them, separating them and pushing them to their respective corners. 

As soon as the bell rang the smirk was off of Kabana’s face, it was game time. It was honestly one of her better matches with her and Tiffany trading move after move, near fall after near fall and the crowd was louder than ever. 

It was now nearing the end of the match and Kabana had just got her knees up to block Tiffany’s Prettiest Moonsault Ever and was about to set her up for the Love Tap when someone jumping on the ring apron distracted her. Both Kabana and the referee looked at Dominik Mysterio in confusion. 

“Are you fucking lost?” Kabana spat at him, rolling her eyes at the dumb little smirk on his face.

“What the hell?” She heard Vic Joseph say as she was grabbed from behind. “That’s Rhea Ripley Book, what the hell is she doing here.” Before Kabana could react she was set up for the Riptide and planted firmly on the mat. Rhea rolled out of the ring and wrapped her arm around Dom’s waist as the both made their way back up the ramp, smirking at all the boos they were receiving.

Tiffany took advantage of the situation and set Kabana up for another Prettiest Moosault Ever. 

1-2-3 ding ding ding

“Here’s your winner and the NEW NXT women’s champion. Tiffany Stratton.”  Kabana laid in the ring, glaring up at the ceiling as Tiffany celebrated with her championship. 

“Bull-shit! Bull-shit!” she heard the crowd chant and she couldn’t agree more. What just happened was complete bullshit. She had never had a run in with Rhea or any of the other judgment day members, so why in the fuck did Rhea just come out here and cost her the title? 

Kabana was livid as she made her way backstage, trying to find Rhea before being told that she and Dominik were already gone from the building. “You alright?” Kabana sighed and turned to face Cody. “That was bullshit and 100 percent my fault.” Kabana narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “They approached me after they saw us talking earlier, thought I was trying to recruit you for our War Games match.”

Kabana scoffed and shook her head in disbelief. “Isn’t that fucking great. On everything I love Rhea better watch out cause she gon get hers.” She said placing a hand on her lower back as it began to ache again. “You still need a member?” Cody nodded with a hopeful look in his eyes and Kabana smirked. “Count me in then Rhodes, bitch got something coming to her.” Cody smirked and placed his hands in his suit pants pocket. Rhea had no idea of the beast she had just awoken inside of Kabana.

Monday Night Raw

Kabana smirked as she made her way through the crowd dressed in all black. It was time for Rhea to reap what she sowed. 

Rhea was leaning against the ring post laughing as Jey was getting his ass kicked by Judgement Day and Drew Mcintyre. The smirk was wiped off her face as a figure in black jumped the barricade. She looked around for security before she was knocked onto her ass by a mean right hook. 

Kabana took off her hood and glared down at Rhea. She heard the crowd roar as they recognized  her but she kept her eyes on Rhea who was backing away slowly. “Oh you done fucked up now.” Kabana snarled and as soon as Rhea tried to get up Kabana pounced, tackling her back down to the floor, throwing blow after blow. Rhea pushed Kabana off her and got to her feet only to be knocked back down by a superkick from Kabana.

“You thought you could cost me my title and there be no repercussions?” Kabana asked a knocked out Rhea. “Bitch are you dumb?” She rolled her eyes as Dom came over and helped Rhea to her feet, helping her walk over to where the rest of the team were standing. 

“I’m so happy you guys won the advantage.” She heard Cody yell into the mic as she rolled into the ring to join her team. She paced behind the men, eyes still glaring at Rhea.. “I’m so glad you have a star like Drew McIntyre with you.. Because we’re not alone.” Cody trailed off and Kabana cut her eyes over at him then at Jey who was already looking at Cody. She had heard him talking about Randy joining them but she wasn’t sure he accepted. 

“We found a sixth member. Somebody that I.. have a legacy with.” Kabana started to smirk. This War Games team was stacked and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on Rhea inside of the cage.

Survivor Series: WarGames

Kabana smiled at Adam Pierce as she handed him back his pen. She was officially a member of the Raw roster and after War Games her first order of business was taking that title away from Rhea. 

“Aww shit.” She heard somebody say from behind her. “Was that a contract I just saw you sign?” Jey Uso asked as he walked closer to her. Kabana nodded her head with a smile on her face. “Good, so that means I get to see more of you.” Kabana furrowed her eyebrows. Was he flirting with her?  “Happy you on our team tonight too. We definitely winning.” He said rubbing his hands together. 

“Are we gonna be graced with another wonderful press conference?” She asked, smirking at the way his cheeks turned a shade of pink. 

“Hell no!” He exclaimed as they started walking towards the dressing rooms. “And I put the blame all on ya boy Cody. Uce was giving me shot after shot.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It was embarrassing as hell too. I was stumbling all over my words and shit..” He trailed off with a shake of his head. 

“I thought it was kinda cute..” She said, eyeing him up and down. He looked extremely good in his War Games ring gear. The blue and camo mix looked good on him. 

“Stop flirting with my protégé Uce.” Cody came up to the two of them, wrapping his arm around Kabana’s shoulder. “You ready for tonight?” 

“Hell yeah, I’m ready to get my hands on Rhea. Stupid bitch been subbin’ me on twitter all damn week.” Kabana said, rolling her eyes and unzipping her hoodie, showing off her new ring attire. 

“Damn K.” Jey said, choking on his words as she did a slow 360 for him. 

“It’s cute right? I figured I needed something new.” Cody watched as Jey hungrily looked Kabana up and down, a slight smirk on his face. “I’ll catch up with y’all in a bit though.” she ran off an extra pep in her step feeling Jey's eyes on her. 

“Have you no shame?” Cody asked, laughing when Jey shook his head ‘no’ 

“Nah, so uh- what’s the deal with you two?” Jey asked, eyes never leaving Kabana’s frame until she rounded the corner out of his line of vision.  “You and her.. You know?” 

“Hell no!” The American Nightmare exclaimed. “Brandi would kill me.” 

“So I can..” Jey said pointing in the direction Kabana went and Cody nodded, laughing. 

“So whatchu doin after this?” Josh asked Kabana, ignoring the looks from the rest of their teammates who were locked in the cage at the top of the ramp with them. Kabana stopped her staring contest with Rhea to cut her eyes over at Jey. 

“Huh?”  

“Like after the show, you wanna go get dinner or something..” Sami and Cody startled to chuckle at the look of bewilderment on her face.” 

“Wait, you’re asking me out.. In the middle of our match.” 

“You know what they say, Carpe Diem or something like that.” He smiled, his grillz gleaming in the bright lights. 

“Jey, i’m pretty sure, it’s gonna be like 2 am once we actually get out of here.” Jey nodding then stepped out of the cage as the referee opened it. 

“Okay, then my hotel room.” He winked, “Think about it.” he pointed at her and smiled before running down to the ring to help out Seth Rollins. 

“I can’t believe i’m actually doing this.” Kabana muttered to herself as she stepped off the elevator onto the 3rd floor. She exhaled a shaky, nervous breath before knocking on the door that matched the number Jey had told her earlier before leaving the arena. 

She rolled her eyes with a chuckle as he opened the door with a wide smile. “Finally, the food was starting to get cold..” 

🫣 i hope you don't hate it. Thank you for trusting me with your request @shantinextdoor 🫶🏽`

[thatdeadaquarius]

THE SAGAU FANFIC ONE-SHOT WINNER IS...

🎊🎉🌿Eldritch! Reader AU🌿🎉🎊

Just a small annoucement for the winner, though I'm sure we all saw the results lol

Have a snippet, hope you enjoy!

*disclaimer: subject to change, this is a draft, no finalized version yet.

At least, you were pretty sure of where you were now. But that didn't mean it made any more sense. You hadn't recognized it at first, but the Irminsul was unmistakable after a minute of looking at it and the surrounding blue. The lights were incredible, with sparkles and stars floating up from the ground. Strange, nearly mechanical patterns flared out from its branches. The only difference between the Irminsul in-game versus the real one you see now is the rapid swelling and filling out of its trunk. As you had woken up more and more, ignoring the strange state of your body for now, it had let out weirdly nostalgic noises. Like a computer booting up, and a million other digital pings or tunes as it grew. As you tentatively reach a hand out to touch the trunk, a familiar book materializes. The dark blue pages flip to the first page instead of to the middle of the book. ...isn't this usually the really obscure "Archives" animation from the Paimon settings page? What's it doing here?? In gold writing that hovers slightly above the pages, your (presumed) stats display. The eerily familiar Genshin Impact font rapidly types itself out from left to right. /gamemode: admin *Executing... *Executing... *Loading... *Loading... *... *...Success! *Your gamemode has been changed. " Player." [ADMIN.] EXP: 1000000#%$+??? DEF: ?%@****+~?? ATTK: ??*!!%^<=+? POWERS: - ??";*&%[]\/%? - &%#@?<_++}] - ~`*(-_+}|\\!!??^& ...you decide to stop looking at your... stats, for now. Because more importantly, as you pull your hand back from the book (letting it float in place in front of the Irminsul trunk again), you notice something even more off. Your hand. It's... wrong. As you trail your eyes up your arm, you choke back a sense of panic. Sure enough, when you bring the right arm over to poke and try to smear the seemingly black paint that drenches your left arm, it too is covered in black. Your arms are pitch black. And as you attempt to touch your forearm for more answers, only to phase through it... you begin to think maybe this is not, in fact, paint. And as you realize you are hovering, instead of standing in place, you begin to think this is, in fact, the very real world of Genshin Impact. ...you decide to lay back down on the weird blue ground (?) and take a nap.

Maybe start today over.

☆

I'll be working on asks in the mean time!

But this'll be higher priority/posted soon bc I'm worried I'll forget abt it otherwise lmao

Idk if anybody cares that much, but I'll go ahead and ask just in case:

I hope you guys are having a great week, wherever you may be!

Safe Travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr

@yomilyy / @0rah-s / @idontknowwhatimdoingbutweball / @blackstar-gazer

(^^^ dw you'll still get tagged when the actual piece is out! :)

[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(First Date Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine)

(Request here! This song is getting popular all of sudden for some reason?? Like I’m glad it’s getting the recognition it deserves it just surprises me how quick songs get popular. Already brushed upon this idea but getting into deeper detail is something I’m all for ngl)

- Again he’s not much of a date guy, not wanting to put much effort into anything, having the idea that just because you guys are a thing now he doesn’t need to... He’s an idiot if I haven’t established that fact enough.

- He eventually gets it through his thick skull that doing nothing romantic with you is unacceptable and slowly attempts to be more of a boyfriend and not some guy you hang out with and kiss in private.

- Dates with him even after his “mind-bending epiphany”, there’s an effort now but it’s executed in a very lax manner, like getting you some food after hours and chatting with you while sitting on the roof of his kart.

- I think sometimes dates are either planned or rather spontaneous in a “may as well” kind of way, like, you’re here, he’s here, date time.

- His stubborn nature tends to make him insist on having dates in either his own or older games for the sake of being somewhere familiar… This is understandable but he never frames it that way, calling a game you suggest you guys go to as “brainless” among other things.

- He takes great pride in his game so it’s one of his main hang-out spots, usually orbiting around the idea of simply staying in Turbo Time and showing off his large and ever-growing display of trophies to you for the umpteenth time.

- That cocky part of his personality lets itself known during your dates… Honestly lets it be known in general so not much of a difference, except he’s trying to get your attention rather than other people.

- A more covert part of himself yearns for your approval, seeking it whenever the chance arises, he realizes dates give him a reason to get it. Becoming more keen with the concept as he gets your undivided attention.

- I think the first official date between you two was in Turbo Time, again not a very romantic one but there was an effort and he expects to be rewarded for it, kisses are acceptable payment.

- Bring some food with him so you two aren’t just sitting there doing absolutely nothing… It’s kinda awkward at first because you two are just eating in silence for like a good minute before someone breaks the ice and that innate ability to talk about stupid things between the two of you is activated.

It probably ends with you guys kissing in his kart, a surprisingly pleasant end that is quickly ruined when a smug look makes its way onto his face and you have to push his face away with a scoff.

- Has a tendency to belittle anything else you have planned that doesn’t include him, calling them inherently stupid under the guise of a joke… A very unfunny joke.

- He’s a bit (really) toxic if that hasn’t been hammered in already, having the ugly habit of only thinking about himself and what others could do to help him.

- You’re no exception, taking him a while to adjust to having to think about you and what you may think about something, with those dates being a good example of that.

- His downright horrid perspective is baffling and shows you how this guy was created to be a winner, just not a noble one.

- Talking about winners, I think he calls himself as such when talking about your relationship, especially after this special date and high off of the emotions it warranted from him.

- That date specifically is the start of an era between the two of you, really puts things into perspective for Turbo— That now he isn’t as invincible as he originally thought, that there’s things beyond just winning.

- It wasn’t about winning in the first place, it simply gave him what he craved the second he got the taste of it when his game got its La first-ever quarters by a gamer whose name has been long since forgotten to him, power.

- Those attempts I think in a way give him this idea that “following the program” is something he doesn’t need to follow, he’s Turbo— And having a relationship with someone so… Different to him is something his programming was initially opposed against, only for it to work for you two… For the most part.

- He’s Turbo and can do whatever he wants with you by his side, whether his intentions for the natural order of things around him are good or not.

(Kv fvb lcly aopur aoha aol nhtl johyhjalyz pu Dyljr-Pa Yhswo kylht vm zvtlaopun tvyl iba ulcly cvpjl pa?)

[kirisunshineboy]

Hey there! You would write something abusive boyfriend Niragi x reader at the beach? Like, him being obsessive, smut if you are comfortable with that!!

𝙝𝙞𝙨. | 𝙣𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙞 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

☆ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: niragi suguru/reader

☆ 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: idk, yandere(?

☆ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: rape/noncon referenced, toxic relationships, possessive behavior, humiliation, jealousy, violence, attempted suicide (not so explicit, I think), beatings, what you would expect from any writing containing Niragi

☆ 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.2k

☆ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: "Girlfriend" Ten letters you adored until that day. Until you realized that carrying that title implied to stop belonging to yourself and receive with open arms the marks of love that Niragi gave you.

☆ 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴: Thank you for leaving your request! ♥︎

I really enjoyed writing this, but sorry if the ending is a bit rushed, I really wanted to finish it before I went to sleep. About the smut, there are only references but it's not explicitly narrated, not that it makes me uncomfortable, but I don't know how to narrate it, I'm really sorry! 😭

❕Long paragraphs written in italics narrate the events of the previous night ❕

𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺! ☆

english isn't my first language

His girlfriend.

Two words that hurt every time someone uttered them.

And that was because they had long ceased to be true. Yes, there was a time when she herself displayed the title with a smile under the gaze of the other Executives, who privately bet on how long it would take Niragi to throw it all away.

Mira was the winner: she gave a maximum of one month, and a day before the deadline, all hell broke loose.

Niragi had never touched her beyond protective and possessive hugs, but that night after the game of spades he took it upon himself to get her drunk on all the alcohol in the bar and then rape her in front of the other members of The Beach who were in the pool. She remembers screaming for help, but only received looks of disgust and pity from the others. No one lifted a finger to help her.

Her torment went on all night; Niragi took her back and forth, fucking her in all the common areas to show everyone who she belonged to.

"I don't want to... Please-"

"Who said anything about wanting? You're a selfish bitch, it's not about you. It's about what I want. And I want to keep using this pretty hole of yours until I'm satisfied."

His girlfriend no longer existed. She was now so shattered that she couldn't even remember her own name, and it had been a long time since she had tried to do so. All of her had been reduced to two aliases that depended entirely on Niragi's mood:

Sweetheart when his mood was acceptable (or he had hurt her so badly that he felt slightly guilty).

Or

Desperate whore when he was upset (almost always).

The rest of the people simply recognized her as Niragi's property, and that was enough for them to avoid her like the plague because no one wanted to get into trouble with him. Not even the Executives dared to speak to her or acknowledge her presence. That was the best thing for everyone.

For everyone other than her, of course.

She opened her eyes slowly, feeling them moisten from the contact with the sunlight slipping through the curtains. Her body felt heavy and she couldn't feel her left arm. She sat carefully on the bed searching the room for some sign of Niragi's presence, and could almost breathe easy when she realized she was alone.

Almost, because the sound of the lock opening caused what little strength she had mustered to flee her body in a matter of seconds. A tray peeked through the door followed by Niragi's slender frame. He smiled as soon as he saw her conscious.

“Ah, I'm glad you're awake. I was planning on making you do it myself in case you were still asleep.” He walked to the edge of the bed and set the tray down in front of her. He watched her shrink back and bring her knees to her chest, hugging herself. Niragi frowned as he noticed how she avoided his gaze. “Eat.” He ordered giving her a light tap on the leg.

She held her position.

"Listen sweetheart, I won't say it one more time. Eat." His voice was threatening. She looked at the tray and took the plate of fruit that was there, starting to eat silently. Niragi brushed a lock of her hair out of her face and she shivered from the contact. When she was finished with the contents of the plate, she set it down on the tray again and returned to her original posture.

Niragi noticed how tightly she held the bandages over her left wrist and realized they were stained with blood. He picked up the tray and set it down on a nearby piece of furniture and then turned to where she was and bent down to carry her.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's give you a bath, you're a disgusting cutie right now."

He came into the bathroom and left her sitting on the toilet. "Undress" She obeyed as he prepared the tub with hot water. Niragi was aware that her body ached and knew that he was responsible, so it was his duty to take care of her. That and for no reason would he let anyone else do it. Only he could break and fix his doll. When he felt the right water, he poured a generous amount of bubble soap on her and turned to look at her. She was covering her body awkwardly.

How cute, Niragi thought, she's still embarrassed that I'm looking at her.

The thought of moving her arms to leave her exposed to him crossed his mind for a moment, but he let it go. It would allow her to retain a modicum of modesty this time. He lifted her back up to carefully deposit her in the tub. He took shampoo and began to massage her scalp gently. Niragi felt his pants begin to tighten as he noticed how vulnerable she was. He might as well get into the tub and abuse her until he made her cry with pleasure....

But no. He decided that, for once, he would leave her alone. At least as far as his self-control would allow. He began to wash her body carefully, scrubbing at her arms with a sponge.

"I can do it alone.” she murmured.

"No, you can't," Niragi replied with annoyance in his voice. He was surprised that, after so much, she was still trying to put up a fight. He took her left arm and began to remove the bandage covering her wrist. The fresh scar adorned it like a bracelet. Niragi gently pressed down on the cut. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

She nodded. She gasped in pain when Niragi accidentally splashed her with hot water.

"This is something you could have avoided if you weren't such a selfish bitch" Niragi barked with a hint of anger in his voice. Memories of her in that same tub the night before clouded his vision.

He had returned from a game ready to unload the adrenaline with her and the next thing he knew the bathroom floor was covered in blood with her unconscious in the center.

Niragi had rushed to squeeze the wound on her wrist to stop the flow of blood as he ran to the infirmary in search of Ann. The woman looked shocked for a few minutes until she seemed to regain her composure and ordered her to leave her on the gurney. Niragi went to get painkillers while Ann tried to bring her back to consciousness.

"Let go of me," was the first thing she said to Ann as she opened her eyes.

"What?"

"Let me die" she asked in desperation tearing her throat. "Please tell him you couldn't do anything..." The babbling came out of her mouth awkwardly. Ann felt her heart constrict.

"You know I can't do that. You know well what he's capable of."

Tears began to well up in her eyes. Ann clenched her fists.

"You're the one who makes him have some sanity."

Ann had spoken the truth. That was what all the Executives thought. That was why they had let Niragi do whatever he wanted with her. She was their scapegoat, the sacrifice they had to make to keep the peace on The Beach.

When Niragi took her back to the room, he took it upon himself to chastise her for her cowardice. "Do you really hate me so much that you'd rather die than be with me?" he bellowed in a mixture of rage and pain. What she remembers before she fell unconscious is nodding and feeling Niragi's body pounce on her.

Once all traces of blood, semen and tears were wiped from her, Niragi wrapped her in a towel and carried her back into the room, laying her on the bed. He tossed her one of his shirts and waited for her to get dressed.

"I have a surprise for you." He told her when she was ready. Niragi smiled proudly as he showed her the pair of handcuffs he had gotten from Hatter in exchange for participating in ten more games.

She opened her eyes in surprise. The handcuffs meant they would come out. Niragi only allowed her to be outside only to participate in the games and he always accompanied her. He reached over and placed one handcuff on her right wrist, then locked the other on his own arm.

"Where are we going?" she asked with a knot in her stomach. Niragi ignored her voice and walked out of the room, dragging her with him.

"'Sweetheart, I thought I told you I don't like questions."

They walked through the hallway amidst curious glances until they reached the dining room of The Beach. Niragi murmured. "I thought you might like to stretch your legs. I hear going for a walk is good for pets."

He stopped in front of a table away from the others and ordered her to sit down. He removed the metal from his wrist and closed it around the base of the table, leaving her with no way to leave.

"I'll go get our food," he reported. "Don't do anything stupid, sweetheart."

Saying this, Niragi walked away to the buffet area. She stood motionless, casting quick glances around. She didn't see any familiar faces, but that didn't make much difference. No one would help her anyway, and she wasn't going to ask them to. She kept fiddling with one end of the bandage that had moved out of place until she noticed a presence beside her.

She raised her head expecting to see Niragi, but panic spread through her body when she saw that it wasn't him. A guy who looked about her age was looking at her worriedly.

"Are you okay?" The stranger asked with a grimace. Her curious eyes traveled over the bruises reaching to see on her body, stopping at the handcuffs. She ignored the guy hoping he would take the cue and walk away.

He didn't.

"Hey, tell me what's going on...why are you wearing those handcuffs? Did someone-?"

"Let go of me." She interrupted him.

"What?"

"Don't talk to me and walk away."

The guy folded his arms, the expression of distress expanding. "How can you say that, it's obvious someone is hurting you! It's my duty to help you."

Nervousness showed on her face. She glanced behind him, fearful that Niragi would see her with someone nearby.

"This is none of your business. I'm fine. Just leave me alone already." Her tone was more pleading than annoyed. "Please spare me any more trouble."

The guy was new to The Beach, that much was obvious. Otherwise he wouldn't have approached her. Apparently no one had warned him yet about Niragi and his... pet.

"Look, it's okay. I'm going to get you out of those cuffs and take you to some Executive to help you" The guy gave her a reassuring smile then touched her cuffed arm. She instinctively looked over to where Niragi was and found that he was already watching the scene.

"Run" she whispered to the boy as she saw Niragi approaching with pure anger flashing in his pupils. When the boy followed her gaze, he met Niragi's fist directly in his face.

"Who gave you permission to touch my things!" he shouted angrily at him. The boy's nose was bleeding. The stranger looked at her as if seeking help, but Niragi grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look at him. "Didn't they ever teach you to keep your nose out of other people's business?"

"I didn't-" Another blow. Niragi had kneed him in the stomach. He turned to her. "What did this jerk say to you?"

"Nothing..."

"Don't lie!" Niragi threw another punch that knocked him to the ground. She shrieked in terror. "Are you going to tell me or wait for me to reduce him to a pool of blood?"

"He just asked me if I was okay!" she sobbed, covering her ears so she wouldn't hear the boy's whimpers.

Niragi let loose another kick to the body beneath him. The other people in the dining room watched everything in silence. "Thanks for worrying about her, you idiot. She's perfectly fine under my care" he bellowed with a sadistic grin on his face.

"S-sorry" whispered the boy on the floor.

"I never said you could talk" Niragi replied before delivering another kick straight to his face. She could have sworn she heard his nose crack.

"Stop it, Niragi, please" she begged. Tears were already running down her cheeks. The boy had only wanted to help her.

Niragi gave her a disdainful look and turned away from the body on the ground. "I'm done with him, doll. I doubt he'll get up after this." He removed her handcuffs and grabbed her tightly by the bandaged wrist.

"It hurts!" she screamed trying to wriggle free.

Niragi tightened his grip pulling her out of the dining room. "I'm not finished yet," he warned, "I have to punish the little bitch who talked to a stranger and let them touch her."

[holybibly]

Bunnies, I'm feeling generous and sweet today, so I'm going to suggest that you play a game with me. You all know that I'm going to write a full-length fic inspired by the boys' performance at Coachella.

So I'll give you a little hint. The bunny who guesses the idea and the member or members will get the chance to get a full-length fic from me on any topic and for any member. Your idea, my execution - sounds like heaven, doesn't it?

You can guess in the comments below this post, and I'll contact the winner (if there is one in the DM). You can do this until the end of Ateez's set at Coachella. Good luck everyone.

My work is inspired by these lines

My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola My eyes are wide like cherry pies I gots a taste for men who are older It's always been so it's no surprise

Harvey's in the sky with diamonds and he's making me crazy (I come alive, alive) All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby

[ostrichmonkey-games]

And we have a winner!

So let's talk about the TECHNOCCULSTIST, how it fits into Stampede Wasteland, and the anatomy of a class in general.

TECHNOCCULTIST

mage-priests of the Wastes. sorcerers who bargain with tech-devils. preachers who spread the impact words of the Crash Saints. +LVL when rolling with TECH: when you're dealing with logic, construction, crafting, ritual, tech-devils, magic

Technoccultists are the spellcasters of Stampede Wasteland. They're the only class who can actually cast spells due to both their connections to the Crash Saints and the tech-devils. If you have levels in Technoccultist, you get to add your level to any roll that has you dealing with anything that falls within the purview of the class.

Aesthetics

Countless charms worn across your body

Tattoos of Crash scripture scrawled on your skin

Incense emitting, heavy cloak

The mark of a tech-devil upon your brow

ABILITIES

Here's where we start to get into the meat of a class: its abilities. Currently, there's no limit to how many times you can use a class ability, though some do come with built in narrative restrictions. The Gunslinger for example has to consume a bullet (really just the gunpowder inside it) to use an ability and the Wildwander needs to have their symbiotic beast with them to access some of their abilities. The Technoccultist is a little special in that it has only two kinds of "abilities": Learn a Spell or Pledge yourself to a Crash Saint.

Learn a Spell: This ability can be taken multiple times. Each time it is taken, roll + Spells known. On a success, you are corrupted by the tech-devil you are consorting with. Gain the mark of this tech-devil in a visible location upon your body. Tradition teaches caution when consorting with the tech-devils. Proper rituals and offerings to your Saintly patron will protect you. 

Technoccultists are really the only people in the Wastes who can learn spells, and for good reason. The only things out there that can grant the power to cast spells are the tech-devils: ancient, pre-Crash AI that have been changed by the Warp. They're dangerous, powerful, and capricious. Some orders of technoccultists have half-shackled tech-devils enshrined within their monasteries. But far more common are tech-devils that wander the Wastes or inhabit ancient Crash Sites, waiting to tempt the unawares with powerful bargains. Or at least that's what the orders teach. Spells are, within the fiction, complicated. Like psychic brainworms, pieces of sacred digital code, ancient executables transmuted into something else by the psychofield of the planet. No one's entirely sure, and most folk don't ever want to find out. The full mechanics of spells are still in-progress, but they're gonna be wild. Powerful and dangerous. Though technoccultists don't have a ton of abilities compared to some of the other classes, the spells they can learn more then make up for that.

Pledge yourself to a Crash Saint: Each time this is taken, choose a new saint. Gain one minor relic or icon of the Saint. When you wield the relic or icon, roll+LVL when dealing with anything that falls within their domains.

Technoccultists are also the only class that have this level of flexibility in their "skills", effectively making them the "skill monkeys" of Stampede Wasteland. It is not easy to get bonuses to dice rolls in this game (you can lower the difficulty in other ways though)! But if you ever wanted to round out some "skills", then you can pick up some new patron Saints. How does this work in the fiction? The different orders all have slightly different theories, but the best working one is that the Crash Saints left "impressions" of themselves within the Warp, and when a technoccultist wields an icon or relic of that Saint, they can wrap those impressions of the Saint around them, effectively tapping into the powers of that Saint. Allegedly. Outside of the orders there's plenty of other ideas.

There are many Crash Saints, here are but a few.

PREREQ: Make a sacrificial offering at a notable Crash Saint holy site.

The last mechanic that each class has is their prerequisite. The prereq is something that only becomes applicable as you start gaining levels outside of character creation and want to invest some of those levels in new classes you have no levels in yet. All prereq's are entirely narrative and can form the basis for future adventures.

And that's the TECHNOCCULTIST! Of the four classes, it has a fairly unique structure, but honestly, each of the classes has their own special quirks.

If you want to know more about Stampede Wasteland, you can check out the other posts in the tag, and follow along as I continue development! It's getting decently close to being text complete, so hopefully we'll see a release in the next couple of months.

[aimeedaisies]

The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in July 2024

09/07 On behalf of Princess Anne, as Royal Fellow of the Royal Academy of Engineering, Sir Tim represented HRH at the Annual Awards Dinner at the Peninsula London and awarded winners with the Princess Royal Silver Medal. 🥈

~ Return to duties after injury ~

12/07 As President of the Riding for the Disabled Association, attended the National Championships at Hartpury University Equine Centre. 🐎🎖️

17/07 As Colonel-in-Chief of the Intelligence Corps, visited 4 Military Intelligence Battalion at Bulford Barracks in Salisbury. 🕵️‍♀️

Unofficial Sir Tim Attended the State Opening of Parliament. 👩‍⚖️

19/07 Opened Worcestershire Acute Hospitals NHS Trust’s new Emergency Department at Worcestershire Royal Hospital. 🏥

As Patron of the Three Counties Agricultural Society, opened Kildare Hall at the Three Counties Showground in Malvern. 🚜🌾

22/07 Unofficial Departed from Heathrow Airport for France and arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport for the Paris Olympic Games. 🥇

23/07 As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and Chairman of the International Olympic Committee Members Election Commission, attended day one of the International Olympic Committee Session at the Palais des Congrès de Paris. 💼🇫🇷

24/07 The Princess Royal, As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and Chairman of the International Olympic Committee Members Election Commission, attended day two of the International Olympic Committee Session at the Palais des Congrès de Paris. 💼🇫🇷

As President of the British Olympic Association, attended a Reception in the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, to welcome Team GB to the XXXIII Paris Olympic Games. 🇬🇧🇫🇷

25/07 As President of the British Olympic Association, visited the Team GB Preparation Camp. 🇬🇧

As Member of the International Olympic Committee, attended the International Olympic Committee President’s Reception and Dinner at the Musée du Louvre, Paris. 🍽️🍾

26/07 As Patron of the Eric Liddell 100, visited the Scots Kirk Paris Presbyterian Protestant Church in Paris. ⛪️🇫🇷

With Sir Tim As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and President of the British Olympic Association, attended a screening of the Opening Ceremony of the 2024 Paris Olympic Games at Team GB House. 📺🇫🇷🇬🇧

27/07 With Sir Tim As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and President of the British Olympic Association, attended the XXXIII Olympic Games in Paris, France. 🏉

With Sir Tim As Member, International Olympic Committee, attended a World Rugby Executive Board Celebration of Rugby Sevens Reception at Stade de France, Paris. 🍾 🏉

28/07 With Sir Tim As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and President of the British Olympic Association, visited the Team GB Performance Lodge, in Clichy, France. 🇬🇧

With Sir Tim As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and President of the British Olympic Association, attended the XXXIII Olympic Games in Paris, France. 🏇🏼🏊‍♂️

29/07 With Sir Tim As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and President of the British Olympic Association, attended the XXXIII Olympic Games in Paris, France. 🏇🏼

30/07 With Sir Tim As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and President of the British Olympic Association, attended the XXXIII Olympic Games in Paris, France. 🏒

With Sir Tim As President of the British Olympic Association, visited the Team GB House. 🇫🇷🏠

31/07 With Sir Tim As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and President of the British Olympic Association, attended the XXXIII Olympic Games in Paris, France. 🚣

With Sir Tim As President of the British Olympic Association, visited the Olympic Village, Pleyel, Bords de Seine in Saint-Denis. 🏠🇫🇷

Total official engagements for Anne in July: 18

2024 total so far: 174

Total official engagements accompanied by/represented by Tim in July: 9

2024 total so far: 79

FYI - due to certain royal family members being off ill/in recovery I won't be posting everyone's engagement counts out of respect, I am continuing to count them and release the totals at the end of the year.