#perfect combination to make me Suffer ig

[cryoculus]

— TRACK 08: BLISTERING DENIAL ⟢

to protect what you have is to sometimes deny its existence entirely. but to mydei, that protection is nothing short of betrayal.

★ featuring; mydei x f!reader

★ word count; 8.9k words

★ tags; rock band au, found family, hostile acquaintances to friends to lovers, grief/mourning, angst, slow burn, eventual smut

★ notes; just a heads up, the angst is a little heavy in this one, especially towards the end! i'd love for them to be happy together 24/7 but a little suffering just adds flavor to the entire meal, yes?

★ header art cr; sarhiyu on x & ig

TRACKLIST ✧ READ ON AO3

The first order of business upon touchdown is dinner.

Koraxi doesn’t advertise. There’s no signage, or clearly distinguishable storefront. Just a golden plaque pressed into volcanic stone—ancient lettering weathered nearly blank. If you hadn’t been told of its existence, you’d miss it entirely. But Mydei walks up to the entrance like it’s muscle memory.

The rest of the band has been to Castrum Kremnos before—tour stops, afterparties, a radio interview or two—but to you, this is uncharted territory. There’s a reverence in the air the second the door closes behind you, muffling the sound of the city. The lights go warm and low, the air carries the scent of saffron, and the floorboards hush beneath your boots.

A hostess recognizes Mydei with the barest incline of her head. No questions. She simply gestures to follow.

The dining room feels like a secret. Amber-toned lanterns glow from the rafters. Tables are spaced wide, the ceilings high, and the acoustics soft enough that even Garmentmaker’s movements don’t echo as they slide into their seat with mechanical precision.

You pause just long enough to take it all in.

“This your first time in the city?” Tribbios asks.

You nod. “This place is twelve hours away from Okhema, so...”

“Don’t sweat it, newbie,” Cipher says, sliding into a seat. “Even I was on edge the first time Mydei dragged us here. It’s the kind of place you don’t find unless you’re meant to.”

“That’s the point,” Mydei says. He pulls out your chair. The movement is casual, almost thoughtless, but your skin burns where his knuckles brush your sleeve. “This place doesn’t let in just anyone.”

Aglaea takes the seat across from you but doesn’t settle. Her eyes track the edges of the room first, then the windows. Always watching. Tribbios relaxes instantly. She carries the confidence of someone who’s been here a handful of times and drinks in the aesthetic like it’s a kind of fuel.

Garmentmaker folds their napkin into a perfect square, aligning it precisely with the edge of the table. “Environment calibrated for maximum sensory appeal. Low light. Moderate temperature. Acoustic dampening. Combined effect: emotional ease.”

Tribbios glances at them. “You could just say it’s cozy.”

“I could,” Garmentmaker agrees. “But that would be inaccurate.”

Mydei orders for the table in some Kremnoan dialect—his accent a little rougher than usual, like it’s been stored away for years and dusted off just for tonight. You catch only a few familiar words: citrus, lamb, bread.

When the server leaves, he turns to you. “Do you trust me?”

You blink, then nod. “Yeah. I do.”

He leans back, arms crossing loosely. “Then don’t look at the menu. Just let it happen.”

As you wait, Phainon’s already halfway through his first glass of something deep red and spiced, swirling it like it’s a habit more than a pleasure. He lounges with the kind of ease that makes the high ceilings and dim lanterns feel like an extension of him.

“First time’s always a little eerie, isn’t it?” 

You nod, smiling a little. “Eerie, yeah. But kind of beautiful, too.”

“You get it,” he says, tapping his glass against the rim of your water without waiting for a toast.

Castorice, seated quietly between Garmentmaker and Tribbios, glances at you, soft smile curving at the edges. “You’re handling it better than I did,” she says gently. “First time I came here, I kept thinking someone was going to ask for a password at the door.”

“They still might,” Cipher mutters with a grin. “Depends on who’s working. Mydei has the good luck of being recognized.”

“He’s been coming here longer than some of the staff. Some say he’s part of the furniture.” Tribbios adds, barely looking up from the wine menu. 

“Maybe he’s just the dust on it,” Anaxa says idly.

“And maybe that’s true,” Mydei murmurs. He doesn’t look offended. Just vaguely amused, like he’s letting the rhythm of the table play itself out.

The rosemary smoke weaves through the air like incense at an old rite. Conversation ripples, low and private. Distantly, a stringed instrument plays a lilting melody you can’t place—foreign, almost mournful, but comforting in its own way. You notice Tribbios hasn’t given any hints that the rumors about you have reached her radar. She just cradles her wine like it’s a rare find and leans into her seat, completely unbothered.

You breathe out slowly, realizing only then how tightly you’d been holding yourself.

“Emotional tension has decreased to baseline,” Garmentmaker declares in that oddly mechanical voice. “Recommendation: maintain current state until supper is done.”

Cipher snorts. “You running diagnostics on our feelings now?”

“I already am.” 

“Please don’t,” Phainon says gently. “Let me pretend I’m mysterious for a little while longer.”

Castorice chuckles softly, shaking her head. “At this rate, Garmentmaker’s going to have us all figured out before dessert.”

Laughter bubbles around the table, warm and easy. The nerves you carried in just moments ago feel miles away now, replaced by something lighter. Mydei catches your eye across the table and offers a half-smile, one that feels like an invitation rather than a question.

You smile back.

When the food arrives—spiced lamb, blistered bread, charred citrus, and other dishes you can’t hope to pronounce—you forget about the past and the whispers waiting outside this place. For now, there’s only the hush of conversation, the clink of glass, and the warmth of a world you didn’t know you needed.

“You got any plans tonight?”

That startles you in a way only questions from Mydei can. He has a way of sounding casual while still making everything feel like it matters. You glance over your shoulder as you both step off the shuttle, the hotel's glowing marquee casting long shadows behind you. Cipher’s voice rises in the distance, animated and echoing as the rest of the band filters toward the lobby.

But you and Mydei hang back.

“If watching soap operas in my room all night counts as plans, then yeah. I’m fully booked.”

Mydei laughs. “Shame. I was going to walk around the city. Guess I’ll just have to bother Anaxa instead.”

“Doesn’t Anaxa hate long walks?”

Mydei shrugs, hands in his pockets. “So do most people, if they don’t have somewhere worth walking to.”

You glance toward the hotel entrance, where the others are already vanishing inside. Then back to him.

“…Alright,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smile. “Lead the way.”

Mydei’s smile is small, barely there, but it warms the space between you like a match struck in the dark. He tilts his head down the sidewalk, and you fall into step beside him as if you’ve done it a hundred times before. 

The streetlamps flicker on as you walk, one by one, throwing soft halos onto the cobblestones. Castrum Kremnos, known for its soaring spires and brutalist elegance, seems to exhale after sundown—windows glowing amber, streets humming low with life instead of roaring with it.

However, you also see familiar banners hanging off overpasses. Digital billboards cycling through Hell in the Rearview promo shots, glossy and high-definition. In one of the biggest displays, the whole band stands side by side in desert leathers and stormlight colors, eyes forward like saints before the fall. You and Mydei are next to each other in that one.

He’s turned half toward the camera, gaze sharp. You’re a step behind, hair windblown just right, shoulder brushing his like it means nothing. It was just like any other shoot. A scheduled morning in Okhema before you all set out for life on the road. You barely remember the poses. But now, magnified across a skyline that worships him, it feels like a confession.

You look away.

Minutes later, the banners and the billboards fade into the distance as you meander into a smaller neighborhood. Mydei guides you beneath old stone archways and neon shopfronts, the scents of street food and fresh rain winding together in the air.

“I used to come down this street all the time. Back when I was a kid.”

You glance sideways. “Really?”

He nods, eyes tracking a closed shop with vandalized shutters. “There was this little bookstore run by a retired archivist. Strict old guy. Barely ever spoke. But if you showed up with the right question, he’d let you stay past closing and dig through the stuff he didn’t put on display. Mostly mythology. Banned poetry. Stuff no one else wanted.”

“That sounds like exactly the kind of place you'd haunt.”

A huff of a laugh escapes him. “Yeah, well. There weren’t a lot of places I could haunt. Not the way I wanted.”

He kicks a loose pebble down the sidewalk, his pace slowing a touch. “My father used to say music was for ‘men who’d run out of useful things to do.’” The words are bitter, but his voice is calm. Like he’s told the story a dozen times in his head and this is just the first time it’s coming out loud.

You hesitate. “He didn’t want you to be a musician?”

“He didn’t want me to be anything I wanted.” He smiles without humor. “Had my entire future carved in stone by the time I was six. Private academies, diplomatic training, legacy scholarships. I was supposed to take over the estate, the board, the family’s seat on the Circle of Ten. Uh... think of that as a group of Kremnoan business tycoons.”

Your eyebrows rise. “So... like some snotty rotary club?”

“Mm.” He nods slightly. “Old money. One of the founding families. One of those last names.”

You blink, and all of a sudden, it all clicks—how he knew to order in the Kremnoan dialect with that clipped, educated cadence. The effortless posture. The familiarity with places like Koraxi. The fact that he’s never once stressed about money, even on tour. Now that he’s telling you all about this, you realize that those fan speculations about Mydei’s upbringing weren’t too far off after all.

“How’d you get from that… to a rock band?” you ask carefully. 

“Hephaestion.” He shrugs, voice softening. “He was already in music when we met. One of the only people in my world who didn’t give a damn about it. We used to sneak out of language practicum to write lyrics in the margins of our textbooks. Got detention more times than I can count.”

Something tender glows behind his words.

“I knew he meant it when he said I could be good. I think I needed that—someone outside the machine saying, ‘You’re not crazy for wanting this.’ So I followed him. We both left for Okhema and burned every bridge I had on the way out.”

Your steps slow with his as he pauses at a stone overlook. The city spills out beneath you, lights glittering like dust on velvet.

“Do you regret it?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

Mydei looks out over the city. The wind catches the edge of his jacket.

“No,” he says. “I regret not leaving sooner.”

You stand in silence together, his story still settling in your chest.

Then, lightly, he glances over. “Still think your soap operas would’ve been more interesting?”

You laugh. “I mean, this does have drama, betrayal, wealthy patriarchs—kind of hard to top.”

“Guess I’ll just have to keep it interesting.” 

Mydei ends up leading you down narrow backstreets with crumbling mosaics, telling you half-true stories about warriors who used to duel in the amphitheaters and smugglers who buried treasure under the basilicas. His voice is like velvet laced with starlight, and you start to understand why the band—and maybe the whole damn world—would follow him anywhere.

Eventually, he nudges your elbow. “Hungry yet?”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re insatiable.”

“I’m curious. That was just dinner in Koraxi. This could be dessert.”

You arch a brow. “Are you still talking about food?”

His answering smile is pure mischief as he says, “That’s entirely up to you.”

Innuendoes aside, you follow Mydei past a quiet square where street musicians once must’ve played, their chalk-scrawled names still faint on the pavement, and finally, he stops in front of a storefront that looks like it’s been preserved in amber.

A curved awning in faded pink-and-gold stretches over the door, lettered in a looping script that reads Alma’s — Glacées & Dreams Since 1965.

Rows of wooden booths lines the inside, their cushions worn but lovingly maintained, and above the register hangs a collection of framed portraits. Celebrities, famous actors, a few recognizable music legends. What stands out to you is a frame with teenage Hephaestion, smirking with two cones in hand. Another, unmistakably, is a young Mydei.

“I can’t believe they still have that up,” he mutters, not quite embarrassed but certainly aware.

You peer at it. “You look... criminally innocent.”

“I wasn’t.” He steps up to the counter, tapping the glass with easy familiarity. “Two scoops of blood orange sorbet and one pistachio gelato, please.”

The man behind the counter, in his sixties at least, squints at him. Then his face breaks into a grin, his accent thick. “If it isn’t trouble himself. You still like them in a cone, kid?”

“Yeah,” Mydei says, chuckling. “Still do.”

He turns to you with that quiet half-smile. “Pick whatever you want. It’s on me.”

You end up with something ridiculously decadent—salted caramel fudge with candied almonds. The kind of thing you wouldn’t have dared to eat before the tour started. But standing here, in a half-lit parlor echoing with old music and hometown laughter, it feels right.

You slide into a booth across from him. Mydei leans back against the window, cone balanced in one hand, watching the world outside as he licks the sorbet once with a thoughtful expression.

“They used to sell tiny journals at the counter,” he says eventually. “I don’t know if they still do. The original Alma believed every scoop of ice cream unlocked something in you. Memories, wishes, dreams. Something worth jotting down in a diary.”

You glance around. “That’s oddly poetic.”

“It was. I met her a couple of times when I was younger. She said I had ‘hungry eyes and a lonely heart.’” He smiles faintly. “My father never brought me here. It was Heph who introduced me. We’d go whenever we scraped enough from busking or odd jobs.”

You savor a spoonful of caramel silence. Then, softer, you ask, “Did your dad ever know you joined the band?”

Mydei doesn’t answer at first. Then he says, “He knew. He just refused to acknowledge it. We stopped speaking after I left Kremnos. Hephaestion’s parents tried to help for a while. I think they felt guilty we were doing it all alone.”

You nod. You’re quiet for a long moment, watching the sorbet melt slowly down his fingers, his thumb brushing it away absentmindedly.

He watches you, then asks, “You and Erin were close, right?”

The name settles gently between you, like he knows to hold it carefully.

You nod. “Closer than close. You know all that superstition when it comes to twins? Half of that is bullshit, but the other half might just be true.”

Mydei nods, gaze steady. “What was she like?”

You toy with your spoon for a second, tracing a line through your melting scoop. “She was louder than me. Braver, too. The kind of person who could walk into a room and make everyone feel like they belonged there. But she always looked out for me first. We did that for each other all the time.”

You don’t mention the nights spent curled up on the floor of your shared apartment, watching tour clips and livestreams under a threadbare blanket. How her laughter would ring out every time a new post dropped from that account. Instead, you offer:

“She’s the reason I started playing guitar seriously. Music was just... always around us. But I think I was chasing something through it. She just saw what it did to me. Knew what I couldn’t say out loud.”

The moment hangs there, fragile and warm.

You take another bite, needing something to ground you. The sugar curls around your tongue like nostalgia.

“She used to say listening to The Flamechasers felt like home before we even knew where home was. I mean, we were just a couple of nobodies, you know? But the band mattered to us. Everything about it.”

You bite your tongue.

Don’t say too much.

Don’t say who you were.

Mydei tilts his head. “Did she ever get to see us live?”

That one hurts in a way you didn’t expect.

You manage a nod. “Yeah. She went to every show she could. I was with her each time.”

The words feel heavier than they should, as if they’re carrying years of noise and light and the slow, impossible ache that followed.

You don’t tell him how it felt, the first show after she was gone. How your hand reached out instinctively, halfway through a chorus, only to find empty air. How you stopped going altogether. And you sure as hell don’t breathe a word about handing Flamescapes over to someone else, scrubbing every trace of yourself from the digital altar you’d spent years tending. 

“I couldn’t keep going after she passed,” you say softly instead. “Concerts. They just... stopped making sense without her.”

You meet Mydei’s gaze and, for a moment, he looks like he understands. 

“But you’re back, aren’t you?” 

You nod slowly, eyes falling to the curve of your spoon as you breathe out a quiet laugh. He says it like getting to join the band you dedicated your life to is something that happens to everyone.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

The booth feels too still, like the kind of quiet that follows something sacred. You look up, and Mydei is watching you with that same thoughtful expression from earlier.

“I didn’t think I would be,” you admit. “For a long time, I thought stepping back into this world would feel like betraying her. Or… like I’d be haunted by it. But it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?” he asks gently.

You breathe in, let it sit on your tongue before answering. “It’s strange. I thought the grief would make it impossible to love this again. And—sorry, this is gonna sound so corny—but the music still hits. It just feels a little different now. Like the loss became part of the instrument.”

Mydei nods, almost imperceptibly. “That’s what music does. It won’t fix anything, but it does give the pain somewhere to live.”

You glance at him, surprised at the way he put it. 

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Exactly.”

The sorbet’s melted down to a syrupy swirl in his cone, and Mydei deigns to just drink it all up in one go. 

“So…” he says as he munches through the cone, “should we see if they still sell those journals?”

You laugh, grateful for the shift. “What, so you can write down your ice cream-induced dreams?”

He grins. “Mhmm. I think I saw a unicorn just now.”

You both get up, easing into the low murmur of the shop again. As you walk toward the counter, shoulders brushing, you think of Erin. You think of that old fan account. You think of everything that’s changed in the past year. And as Mydei holds one last conversation with the old man behind the counter, your chest starts to throb with a single promise.

You’ll tell him soon. 

You’ll tell everyone soon.

Before the past catches up to you on its own.

Castrum Kremnos spans three full concert days.

Like Okhema, it holds a massive share of the fanbase—but here, the devotion feels different. You remember befriending a handful of Kremonan fans online in what feels like another lifetime. Their reverence bordered on mythic. After all, they live in the city where the band’s frontman was born. They get to walk the streets Mydei once walked. That alone feels like a kind of privilege.

Day One is one of the most electrifying performances you’ve ever been part of. The arena is enormous—so vast it feels like sound itself could get lost in the rafters—but every single seat is filled. Not just with fans, but with people who came to feel something. And when the lights drop and the first chord hits, the air fractures into a thunderous roar.

There are no surprise fan projects like the one in Carmitis, but what the crowd lacks in coordinated stunts, they make up for in raw intensity. Mydei speaks often between songs, slipping in and out of the local dialect with practiced ease. You don’t understand every word, but you understand enough. The cadence of his voice is gentler here, a little rough around the edges, but warm in a way that cuts through even the heaviest soundscapes.

The language doesn’t matter. The tenderness translates anyway.

From your place on stage, fingers wrapped around the neck of your guitar, you watch it all unfold—his words echoing across the sea of lights and faces, the audience responding like they’ve been waiting their whole lives to hear this exact voice say their names. There’s something about this city that digs under your skin and stays there.

Maybe it’s the weight of history.

Maybe it’s the boy who left this place and the man who returned to sing for it.

Either way, the first night in Kremnos ends with your pulse still racing, your chest still tight, and your heart somewhere out in the crowd.

You’re still buzzing when you return to the hotel, adrenaline thrumming faintly under your skin like phantom reverb. The walls of your suite feel too quiet, the city humming low outside your window. You haven’t even kicked off your boots when the door swings open—unlocked, apparently—and in stumble Cipher and Castorice like twin hurricanes.

“Girls’ night,” Cipher declares, raising a suspiciously full bottle of plum wine in triumph. “By executive decree.”

Castorice grins, arms loaded with snacks and a backup bottle already half-drained. “You weren’t answering your messages, so we assumed you were either asleep or brooding.”

“I don’t brood,” you say, which is a lie.

Cipher flops dramatically onto your bed and immediately starts scrolling through your playlist queue. “You totally brood. It’s the artistic temperament. Now shut up and make room.”

Within ten minutes, the room smells like fruit alcohol and overpriced popcorn. Castorice curls up near the foot of the bed with her legs tucked beneath her, while Cipher is already three shots deep and trying to convince your Bluetooth speaker to play early Flamechasers demos. For science, she claims.

“I think I lost two years off my life out there tonight,” you say, leaning back into the pillows with a groan.

“Yeah, that crowd?” Castorice lets out a low whistle. “I thought the arena was going to implode when Mydei started speaking Kremonan. I nearly cried and I don’t even know the language.”

Cipher refills all three glasses with reckless abandon. “That was hot. Like, genuinely unfairly hot. And I don’t even like him like that.”

You snort into your drink, which tastes like something between floral syrup and liquid courage. “We’re not turning this into another ‘Rate the Members’ night, are we?”

“No promises,” Cipher says sweetly. “Unless you’re scared.”

You hesitate, drink in hand. For a moment, the edges of the day blur—the crowd, the lights, Mydei’s voice echoing like a memory in your bones. You think about how long it took to let yourself laugh like this again. To let people in. To make space for softness without guilt clinging to its heels.

You nurse your drink as their chatter flows easily around you; Cipher recapping the absurd drama happening in the band’s group chat (Anaxa apparently muted them all for sending too many cursed eldritch horror memes), and Castorice giggling into her sleeve, soft and content.

They’re your friends now, you realize. Not just bandmates or coworkers. Friends. People who barged into your room with too much alcohol and not enough boundaries and made it feel like a sleepover instead of a tour stop.

And for a flicker of a second, you think about telling them.

Not everything, not the whole story, but enough that the memories of the account you once breathed life into don’t have to stay buried like contraband. They wouldn’t judge you, would they? Cipher is reckless but loyal; Castorice sees people in ways they don’t always see themselves.

You swirl your glass, watching the liquid catch the light.

“I used to know some Kremonan fans online,” you say suddenly, voice quiet but clear. 

Cipher raises a brow. “Hm? Since when were you lurking fan corners? I always thought you were more... chill.”

You shrug, trying for nonchalance. “It was just a long time ago. A different life, kinda.”

Castorice tilts her head. “What happened?”

You open your mouth. Then close it again.

The words tangle behind your teeth, heavy with the weight of too many yesterdays. You want to trust them. You really do. But before you can decide, all three of your phones light up at once with the same chime.

Cipher groans. “No way. Did Phainon send another cursed meme—?”

Castorice snatches her phone first. “Nope. It’s Aglaea.”

You glance at your screen.

Aglaea: Excellent work tonight, everyone. Kremnos Day 1 was a strong showing—let’s keep that momentum going.

Aglaea: That said, please be reminded that backstage is NOT a hookup zone. Keep it in your pants. I’m serious. There will be consequences if you fail to comply (i.e. pay cuts, suspensions). 

There’s a beat of stunned silence.

You brace yourself for Cipher to burst out laughing, but she doesn’t. Instead, she and Castorice just… share a look. It’s quick, but unmistakable—eyebrows rising, something wordless passing between them like current through a wire. And then, in perfect sync, they turn to look at you.

“So.” Castorice’s tone is light. 

“So,” Cipher echoes as she scoots closer, glass still in hand. “You and Mydei.”

You blink. “What?”

“Oh, don’t do that,” Cipher says, eyes narrowing like she’s onto a scent. “You flinched.”

“I didn’t flinch.”

“You totally flinched,” Castorice chimes in.

You open your mouth to protest, but Cipher cuts in again, singsong: “You and My-dei.”

“Stop—”

“You and Mydei!” Castorice joins in, giggling.

You drag a hand over your face as your heart starts beating off the charts. “What are you even talking about?”

Cipher leans forward like she’s interrogating a suspect under a single swinging lightbulb. “We’re not saying it is you that band mom is pertaining to in the groupchat. But the way you’re reacting right now is kind of saying it is you. And Mydei.”

“I’m not reacting,” you lie, voice too sharp, too fast. “A-And why would I even get with Mydei, of all people? We’re bandmates!” 

“Oh no, she’s panicking,” Castorice says, delighted, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Look at her, Cipher. Full panic. Guilty.”

You clutch your drink like it might shield you. “I’m not guilty of anything. And even if I were—which I’m not—nothing happened backstage.”

Cipher narrows her eyes. “So you’re saying something did happen, just not backstage?”

You sputter. “That’s not— W-What I meant to say is—”

They both gasp in unison.

“Oh my god,” Castorice breathes.

“No, no, no,” you say quickly, holding up your hands like they’re explosives. “You’re misunderstanding.”

But they’re already spiraling.

“I knew something was up in Lethe,” Cipher declares, jabbing a finger at you like she’s cracked the case. “You disappeared in Thalia’s nightclub party for, like, forty minutes. I was wasted when we walked back to the hotel, but even I could tell Mydei was being—how do I put this—real friendly.”

“Not to mention,” Castorice adds, grinning as she leans forward, “the music video shoot in Akashic? I know the director said to act, but that scene between you two? That wasn’t acting. That was tension. Capital-T.”

You stare at them, dumbfounded. You’d just been considering telling them a secret—your secret—the one buried beneath years of fan accounts and hidden usernames. But now you’re being cornered for something else entirely.

Something that hadn’t even happened when you first joined the band.

Were you and Mydei that obvious?

You want to laugh. Or run. Or throw the nearest throw pillow out the hotel window and scream into the city air. Because somehow, the quiet little thread you’ve kept tucked away is being yanked from the opposite end—and it’s not the one you thought would unravel first. Now, here you are, caught between two secrets, and neither one feels safe in your hands.

You groan, dragging a hand over your face. “Okay, yes, something is going on.”

Cipher immediately gasps like she’s been vindicated in a murder trial. Castorice clutches her drink like it’s an award. You shoot them both a look.

“But,” you say quickly, firmly, “we haven’t hooked up.”

That shuts them up for half a second.

“Huh,” Cipher says, blinking. “Wait, really?”

“Not even a little?” Castorice adds, leaning forward.

“Not even slightly,” you deadpan, despite the vivid, electric memory of Mydei between your knees in that velvet-draped lounge in Lethe. “Nothing happened. End of story.”

Sure, Mydei has a habit of finding excuses to drag you into quiet corners and kiss you until you saw stars. But he’s never pushed it further—not once. Not even that night, when the air between you went tight with possibility. When it could’ve turned into something else entirely if not for that damn paparazzo and the cold snap of reality that followed.

You like to think he’s been careful on purpose. Gentle in a way you haven’t had the words to thank him for.

They exchange a glance, clearly not convinced, but you give them your best no-bullshit stare until they both back down, at least outwardly.

“Okay,” Cipher says slowly. “Noted.”

“For now,” Castorice adds under her breath.

You pretend not to hear that part, sipping your drink like it’ll wash away the heat crawling up your neck.

“Okay, but seriously—who is Aglaea talking about?” she asks, holding up her phone again. “Like, are we just going to ignore that someone apparently had the audacity to hook up backstage?”

Castorice’s eyes narrow with faux intensity. “Who even has the logistics for that? There’s wires and cases everywhere.”

Cipher snorts. “Exactly. It’s either impressive or disgusting. Possibly both.”

It’s a pretty big group chat. The band members and managers aren’t the only ones part of it, but so are all the staff on-board for the entire tour. But just like that, the attention shifts—off of you and Mydei, and onto the much safer mystery of whoever had the nerve to tangle with temptation under Aglaea’s nose. 

You exhale, quietly grateful.

The second night in Castrum Kremnos hits just as hard as the first.

If last night felt like a fever dream, tonight is something else entirely. Yesterday, you’d been too wired, too high on adrenaline to register the crowd during Nightingale Static. But tonight, you see it: a thousand lights swaying in sync to the stripped-down version, soft and solemn like a prayer.

Every city brings something different. Every show changes shape in its own strange way. But this kaleidoscope of noise and silence and something like awe—you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.

And you hope you never do.

Backstage hums with the kind of joy only a flawless show can spark. The celebration isn’t just for the band, it belongs to everyone who made the night possible. The makeup artists who fixed every smudge, the stylists who kept every thread in place, the local crew who made the stage feel like home, even the ever-watchful security team. If any one of them had done less, the magic wouldn’t have landed the way it did. And standing among them now, you’re quietly grateful—because this isn’t just a job. It’s a rare kind of harmony.

So you let yourself breathe. Let yourself melt into the warmth of the impromptu backstage dinner thrown together by the venue managers. “On the house,” they’d said, and Mydei had made a beeline for the buffet with single-minded determination. No one questioned it. Everyone knows your frontman emerges from each set like a man starved.

Phainon’s laugh cuts sharp through the room as he pulls a reluctant Anaxa toward the food, and from there, the night dissolves into its usual, comforting chaos.

Cipher’s halfway into a theatrical reenactment of someone nearly flashing the band from the barricade while Castorice is doubled over beside her, cackling helplessly into a glass of wine. You’re mid-sip of something sweet and suspiciously strong when a hand closes gently over your shoulder.

“Diana,” Tribbios says, voice gentle. “Got a second?”

That’s all it takes.

The plastic cup in your hand goes weightless. The ache in your calves from the final chorus fades. Your stomach drops like someone pulled the stage floor out from under you.

You follow without a word.

Down the hall, away from the noise and fluorescent buzz of the green room. Each step echoes sharper than the last—yours too heavy, Tribbios’ too calm. You pass cases of cables, crates labeled with tape and Sharpie, someone’s half-finished coffee balanced on a lighting rig. Your throat is dry.

You don’t need to ask what this is about.

They found out. Flamescapes. The fan account, the forum posts, the way your whole world used to orbit this band from behind a username you never thought would be traced back to you. Someone must’ve recognized you. Or maybe they caught wind of the photo Hyacine posted months ago. She reassured that she already deleted it, but you know it’s too late. 

“Here.” Tribbios stops in front of a small side lounge, mostly empty save for a couch and a flickering floor lamp. Aglaea is already inside, perched on the armrest like judgment made flesh.

Your skin goes cold.

Aglaea doesn’t waste time. “Sit.”

You do.

It’s suddenly very clear you’re not here for congratulations.

Tribbios leans against the wall, arms crossed, face unreadable. Aglaea eyes you like a problem she’s trying to solve with a scalpel instead of a pen.

“Diana,” she begins, “we’re going to ask you a few questions. We’d prefer you answer them honestly.”

Your stage name sounds too sharp in her mouth. Like a verdict. Like a blade. Your mind immediately kicks into overdrive. A million thoughts flash through like sparks on a short fuse.

This is it. They know. You don’t know how much traction Hyacine’s tweet gained. Or if they found out somewhere else. They probably think you faked your way into the band. That you joined out of obsession. That you’re some creep who just wanted to get close to them, to him. That nothing you’ve done here has been real.

They’ll think you’re dangerous.

You knew this was always going to catch up to you. You just thought maybe you’d have more time. That you'd get to prove yourself before the ground gave out. But of course it’s now. Of course it’s right when everything was starting to feel… possible.

Still, even with all the thoughts clashing in your head, you manage a single nod.

“Okay.”

You aren’t ready to tell them, but you’ve run out of corners to hide in. Run out of excuses to put it off.

Aglaea’s voice slices through the silence.

“How long have you and Mydei been romantically involved?”

Everything in you locks up.

You blink hard, the words not computing, like you misheard them through a pane of glass.

“What?” you echo, because that’s all you can manage. A breathless, dumbfounded syllable.

Aglaea doesn’t flinch. “Don’t play dumb. You heard me.”

No, no, no— this wasn’t what you were bracing for. You were ready for the fan account, ready to admit to Flamescapes, to plead your case, to beg them to see you as more than your past. But this?

This was supposed to stay in the dark a little longer. This was sacred. Fragile. His.

“We’re not... We’re not involved like that,” you say, the words scraping out thin and automatic.

Tribbios exhales behind you, slow and almost sympathetic. Aglaea tilts her head, unimpressed.

“You expect us to believe that?” she says coolly. “You vanish with him at the Lethe afterparty. You frequently sneak off together. The footage from the Akashic shoot could’ve melted half the boardroom. And we’ve seen the way Mydei looks at you. You honestly think no one’s noticed?”

Your hands are ice. Your heartbeat crashes against your ribcage, loud and unsteady. You thought you were ready to burn for the truth, but not this truth. You can’t even let yourself wonder how they found out. Did Castorice or Cipher rat you out? Part of you thinks they wouldn’t. Or maybe they wouldn’t even have to with how careless you and Mydei were.

“There’s nothing going on,” you say again, and it’s almost steady. “The Akashic shoot? We were just doing as the director told us. And we vanished in Lethe because I drank too much and Mydei insisted I sit down and get some fresh air. We’re bandmates, Aglaea. We look out for each other. That’s all there is to it.”

Your heart pounds with every word, doing your best not to trip on the strings of Aglaea’s razor sharp scrutiny. Her expression doesn’t change, but there’s a flicker under the surface. Not disbelief. Disappointment.

“And if we were to check the security tapes from the Lethe lounge?” she asks. “Would they say the same thing?”

You hesitate for a breath too long.

But then you nod. “Check them.”

Because you know they won’t find anything. Not what they’re looking for, anyway. Thalia’s made sure of that. 

Tribbios’ tone is soft when she speaks. Almost. “Diana, you need to understand—we’ve already had one incident with a band member choosing a relationship over the rules. I’m sure by now, you know what happened to Hephaestion. We can’t afford to go through that again.”

And there it is.

Not the ghost of your fan account. Not the internet trail of obsession and love. But this.

This is the sin that might break you.

You inhale, slowly. Then meet their eyes.

“There’s nothing going on,” you repeat, carefully. “Not backstage. Not off-stage. Not anywhere.”

They watch you. Weighing the words. Measuring the gaps. Neither of them notices the faintest shift in the hallway shadows—the sound of someone pausing just beyond the cracked-open door.

You don’t, either.

Because you’re too busy lying through your teeth. Not for your sake. For his. If they punish anyone, let it be you. You’ll swallow the fallout whole if it means protecting him from it.

What you don’t know is this: just outside, Mydei stands still. A file loaded on his phone cued and ready. The flame-shaped charm clipped to the case catches the dim light, swinging once like a warning bell.

He’d come to surprise you.

He’d finally gotten the track approved for the deluxe release—your song. The one you left half-finished in the shared cloud like a secret confession. The one you played together for the band in some nameless town in the middle of nowhere. Raw, unpolished, and real. He’d cleaned it up. Finessed the edges. Played it for the execs. Fought for it.

All it needed now was a name.

He thought maybe you could name it together.

But instead, he hears you. Your voice, steady. Your denial, sharper than any blade.

For you, it might feel like damage control. Like shielding something fragile from scrutiny. But to him, it sounds like betrayal and the very thing he thought he’d never have to fear from you.

You said no.

Not to Aglaea. Not to Tribbios.

To him.

To everything you’ve shared, everything that bloomed in stolen hours and quiet moments and backstage glances. The look in your eyes when you thought no one was watching. The way your fingers laced with his like he was the only thing keeping you steady.

And now you’re pretending it never happened.

You don’t see the way his fingers tighten around the phone. How long he stares at it, thumb hovering just above the play button, as if hitting it might undo what he just heard. When Mydei walks away, he does it in silence, like a shadow slipping back into the darkness. 

Unlike the first two days, something about Day Three feels… wrong.

It isn’t the staff—everyone’s on time, grinning through clipboards and coffee cups as the sun burns away the morning chill. The production crew hums with efficiency. The venue is a well-oiled machine.

Cipher and Castorice are already scheming by the sidelines, locked in a fierce tic-tac-toe battle against Garmentmaker, trying to outmaneuver their algorithmic precision. Castorice keeps score on her wrist in eyeliner, as if she’s sure this is the time they’ll finally win. Cipher is cheating. Openly.

Phainon’s crouched at his kit, tools spread around him like a surgeon mid-operation. He gives you a quick nod as you pass. “Finally got the snares replaced,” he mutters, like it’s the greatest triumph of his day. Anaxa is, predictably, nowhere to be seen. But you glimpsed him earlier, tucked in a backstage corner with a private little smile aimed at his phone. Whatever conversation he was having, he hadn’t noticed you walk by.

It should feel like any other morning.

The final day in a city drenched in myth and heat and the roar of fans who now chant your names like they’ve always belonged to them. The last rehearsal before tonight’s blowout performance—what should be a celebration, a victory lap.

But it isn’t.

Because no matter how much the rest of the world keeps moving, one thing is impossible to ignore:

Mydei is furious.

You don’t know why. No one does. But the shift is unmistakable.

He arrived later than usual, said nothing to anyone, and hasn’t cracked a single smile since. Not even when Cipher offered him a heart-shaped muffin and called it a peace offering “for crimes I haven’t committed yet.” Or when Garmentmaker pulled up a crude statistic of the likelihood of fans fainting in the pit if Mydei performed without a shirt again.

You try to brush it off. Maybe he’s tired. Maybe someone from the hotel staff pissed him off this morning. Maybe—anything.

But then he doesn’t look at you.

Not once.

At the first bout of rehearsals, the opening riff kicks in, and you fall into muscle memory, fingers sliding over the frets like they always have. Cipher catches your eye from behind the synths and waggles her brows with a grin. You smile back, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

Because you can feel it. That stillness, just to your left.

Mydei stands a little farther than usual, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the overhead lights like they might offer an escape route, lips set in a line that doesn't budge. Even when Phainon cracks a joke so off-color it earns a groan from Castorice, he doesn’t so much as react.

Then it hits you.

You know that look. That distance.

It’s the same wall he hid behind when you first joined the band—the one built from grief and guilt and the ghost of a friend who vanished without warning. Back then, Mydei had looked at you like you were a puzzle he didn’t want to deal with. Like maybe if he ignored you long enough, the shape of you would shift into someone else.

You never thought you’d see that look aimed at you again. You don’t even know what you did to deserve it.

When the stage lights finally flare to life that night, everything changes.

Out here on-stage, Mydei is every inch the frontman the fans have come to adore. All golden hair and fire-lit eyes, stalking the stage with the kind of swagger that makes people scream themselves hoarse. He hits every cue, every note, every beat of the choreography with lethal precision. His voice threads through the night like silk dragged through flames.

The crowd eats it up. They always do.

You play your part too. The music drowns out your thoughts, your fingers flying across the strings, the pulse of the performance pulling you forward like a tide you can’t resist. But no matter how loud the crowd gets, how bright the pyros blaze, you can’t shake the cold weight lodged in your chest.

Because he still won’t look at you.

Not during the solos. Not during the call-and-response when he always used to turn toward you with a half-smirk, like the two of you shared some private joke above the roar. Tonight, his gaze slides right past you every time. Like you’re not even there.

It shouldn’t matter. This is what you signed up for—professionalism, precision, performance. You don’t have to be close to be convincing. You just have to play like you mean it.

But when the final notes fade into screams and smoke and thunder, when the curtain falls and the stage crew surges forward to begin the teardown, Mydei is already halfway down the back steps, sweat-damp and radiant under the safety lights, but with a grimace etched so deep it could’ve been carved in stone.

He doesn’t stop to talk to the crew. Doesn’t acknowledge the high-fives from Cipher or the praise Phainon throws his way. Doesn’t even spare a glance for you.

Mydei just keeps walking.

Past the dressing rooms. Past the loading bay. Straight to the shuttles.

By the time you make it down the stairs, he’s gone and you’re left standing in the wings, guitar still slung over your shoulder, heart rattling like something broken inside your ribs.

But you don’t let that deter you just yet.

When you find yourself in front of Mydei’s hotel room later that evening, you don’t knock at first.

You just stand there, hand hovering in the space between certainty and fear, staring at the dark grain of the hotel room door like it might blink first. But it doesn’t. It just looms, silent and impassable, the same way he’s been all day.

Maybe you should walk away.

Let him stew. Let him be angry. Let him lock himself behind that blank-faced fury if that’s what he wants. You owe him nothing. Not after the way he looked through you like you were glass.

But you know him. You know this silence isn’t nothing. It’s a storm system, and you won’t let it pass without a fight.

So you knock. Three times.

Nothing.

You knock again, louder this time, shoulders squared like you can muscle your way through the distance between you.

You hear it then—footsteps. Fast and angry.

The door rips open, and Mydei stands before you on the other side.

Shirtless. Hair still damp from the shower, strands curling down his neck. His expression is flat at first, like he expected someone else—maybe room service, maybe Aglaea. But the second he sees you, it shifts. His jaw locks. His hand twitches toward the edge of the door.

He’s going to slam it in your face.

And he almost does.

But as the door starts to swing shut, your hand darts forward on instinct. It catches in the gap—fingers wedged between the frame and the wood with a sharp, breathless snap.

“Shit,” you hiss, staggering forward as the pain flares bright and hot.

The door jerks back open with a violent recoil.

“You—” Mydei’s voice is rough, his hand already catching your wrist as you clutch your fingers against your chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You stare up at him, face pale, breath shallow, anger burning just under the surface.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you snap.

He doesn’t let go of your wrist. Doesn’t look away from your face. But the storm behind his eyes is raging now—less silent thunder, more wildfire caught too long in a box.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you shouldn’t be taking it out on me without even telling me what I did,” you fire back. “If you’re going to hate me, Mydei, then at least do me the courtesy of letting me know why.”

The words are too loud. Too raw. They land hard between you, a gauntlet thrown in the narrow space of the hotel hallway. You don’t flinch. Not even when he finally lets go. His fingers drag off your skin like they’re trying not to remember how you feel. Mydei curses under his breath, then steps back.

“Get in.”

It’s not an invitation, but you go anyway, clutching your hand and brushing past him without looking. The room’s dim, the scent of his cologne still clinging to the air, the floor littered with half-unpacked luggage and a towel slung over a chair. A bandage wrapper peeks out from the bathroom trash, probably from something stupid like a blister he didn’t mention.

He shuts the door behind you with a quiet click. You don’t turn around. Not until you hear the sink run.

Then his voice: clipped and tense. “Sit down.”

You find the edge of the bed and sink onto it, watching as he rifles through the minibar for ice. He doesn’t look at you when he returns, crouching in front of you like this is just a job. Like you’re a stranger who happened to injure herself on his doorstep.

The cold compress lands on your hand with a hiss.

You wince, and he still doesn’t say anything. His brows are furrowed in concentration, mouth pressed thin as he folds the towel around the ice with clinical precision.

The silence gnaws.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you or whatever,” he mutters finally, barely above a whisper. “You shouldn’t have put your hand there.”

“And you shouldn’t have tried to slam the door in my face.”

His eyes snap up to yours—sharp and furious. “You don’t get to act like this is nothing.”

“What is ‘this,’ Mydei?” you shoot back. “Because just a few days ago you were—we were—” You cut yourself off, throat thickening. “And now you won’t even look at me. What did I do?”

He looks away again, jaw tight.

The ice starts to sting, the cold numbing your fingers, but you don’t pull back. You watch him, every flicker of emotion crawling just beneath his skin.

“I heard you.”

Your brows knit. “What?”

“I heard you,” he repeats, quieter this time. “With Aglaea and Tribbios. Yesterday. Behind the dressing rooms.”

Then and there, the world seems to tilt from right under your feet. 

Oh, god.

“Mydei—”

His laugh is short, bitter. “You think I’m mad because of something you didn’t tell me? Because of some misunderstanding? No. I could’ve handled that. I could’ve handled anything, Diana. Except this.”

He starts to pace again, unable to stay still, the fire in his chest too much to bear. “Do you know what that sounded like? Hearing you talk about me like it was all nothing? Like I was just some guy you play next to on stage?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say quickly. “I didn’t—”

“But that’s what you said,” he cuts in, turning on you, voice raw. “You said there was nothing going on. You looked them in the eyes and denied me. Like I imagined everything. Like we imagined everything.”

You stand too, heart pounding. “It wasn’t safe to tell them the truth.”

“I’m not asking you to tell the whole world. I’m asking why you couldn’t tell them. Tell the people who would’ve kept it quiet. Who’ve known me longer than I’ve known myself. Tell me.”

Your hands curl into fists at your sides. “Because they’re scared, Mydei. Scared of what happened last time. If you’d actually been listening, you would’ve heard Tribbios say it—how this band can’t afford another fallout like Hephaestion.”

His jaw tightens, but you press on.

“I know it’s not fair. I hate how they talk about him like he was some kind of PR disaster and not your best friend,” you whisper helplessly. “But I was cornered, okay? Everything’s been moving so fast, and I haven’t even had a chance to talk to you—to figure out what this is. What we are.”

You take a shaky breath, voice dropping.

“You’ve already lost too much to this band. I didn’t want to be the reason you lost something else. So I took the hit. And yeah, maybe I said the wrong thing.”

Something shifts in his expression just slightly. The fire’s still there, but there’s a fracture now, a question in the heat.

You step forward, quiet but sure. “But I didn’t deny you because I don’t care. I did that because I do.”

Mydei doesn't move. His jaw works like he wants to say something, like something’s caught between his ribs and throat, but whatever it is, it never makes it out. You wait for a beat, then another, hoping stupidly that maybe he’ll reach for you, maybe he’ll say something to bridge the space between your hearts.

But he doesn’t.

So you swallow the knot in your throat, nod once—more to yourself than to him—and step back. Your voice is soft when it comes, barely louder than the hush in the room.

“I’ll... I’ll just go.”

You turn before you can see the way his expression flickers, before you can second-guess every word, every moment that led you here. Your hand aches as you open the door, the skin already purpling, but you don’t flinch.

Not until you’re alone in the hallway, and the door clicks quietly shut behind you.

Only then do you let yourself feel the full weight of it.

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[zai-doodles]

Yeah!! Please rank the spirit dresses!

LETS GOOOOOOO

ok ok ill try to not ramble too much but this will def be long lol

im not perfect by any means and these r just my opinions so idk don't kill me ig, if u disagree u can say that but be polite

10. OK so in LAST PLACE WE HAVE

CAPRICORN!

ok put down ur pitch forks and let me talk-

its not a BAD design aesthetically or in concept, I've seen ppl say its kinda leaning into a like, spy vibe or something and I really like the sunglasses and horns!

BUT capricorn never read as a spy to me?? maybe its just me but he always came off as more of a butler parody especially w the tailcoat he gets in this screenshot

i think both capricorn and the stardress suffer from not having a very visually distinct concept so when put together its barely feels like they match at all, its its v clear that putting lucy in a skimpy dress took priority over making a cool design that connected to the story

i dont even love my redesign for this dress anymore bc I feel like I just need to redo Capricorn first to give him a stronger concept then deal w the dress later

OK

9.

AQUARIUS

this is blasphemy i know but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

this one is way more personal preferance so if u disagree that's so chill there's just too many things w this dress that bother me

I hate the hair, i really do like grown women w pigtails is already a pet peeve of mine bc its so male gazy to me but combining that with the bikini top and super short skirt just annoys me

and let me say again THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH LIKING THIS but in the larger context of this being the AQUARIUS dress it just doesn't read like her at all!! Sure she has a bikini but she also has v ling hair!

where capricorn suffers from too little visual concept aquarius has so much of it!! The gold to me reads v fancy and royalty esque which makes sense for her personality, just changing the hair to something more like what aquarius has would do wonders I feel like

plus i hate the green-

my first redesign ever was this dress bc it annoyed me soooo much

ANYWAY-

8.

VIRGO

this fit is fine, just boring

but virgos design is also boring and the one interesting thing, her chains, NOT being part of the star dress or alluded to makes me angry

also pigtails so it loses points

NEXT

7.

ARIES

again its fine but its boring, mainly bc aries' design is also boring so-

idk i wish they went more bo peep with it cuz I feel like that could have been cute

also more fucking pigtails-

6.

TAURUS

if any fit deserved to have horns its this one TAURUS IS A BULL-

anyway this fits is also fine but damn they could have gone so much harder w the cowgirl thing

i do still stand by my redesign for this stardress bc I think it fits canon without redoing taurus

she should have a nose ring its just facts-

5.

GEMINI

love the concept and idea! kinda meh execution

its fine ig but its also like gemini don't look anything like this? which makes this another one were I feel ud have to rework gemini to give them more visual cues u could take

the headdress specfically confuses me since the wiki says its a Kokoshnik but after looking at the wiki for that I found nothing in the history that makes that make sense for this fit?? like concept wise??

its only so high up bc i respect that they did something different and creative with this dress and the way they split the colors on the dress itself is cute, just wish they went more magician or even jester w it

the only pigtails im kinda ok w bc symmetry

(when i say more magician i did it this way:

4.

SCORPIO

its cute, i wish the tail was bigger and I see v little reason for the fit to be skin tight when scorpio himself literally has a half skirt thing going on

i still like this so here, as u can see I liked the idea with the hair and headband combo I just wish they had pushed it further

3.

SAGITTARIUS

again, cool concept, weird execution?

this one is the only one i feel that THRIVES from not taking any visual cues from the spirit bc honestly his design just sucks I'm sorry ik its supposed to be funny but its just stupid to me idk

however even if i like thaty they did something different AND gave her the bow and arrow, it annoys me still that nothing about the fit reads equestrian or archery? there's SO MANY historical fits they could have used as inspo for this and they just chose not to and that's lazy to me idk

also also i hate that for a while bc of the way the manga was colored it looked like she was fully just wearing underwear bc of the white fabric with nothing on her thighs like that's dumb he's a horse u WANT something there to protect that area when riding

2.

LEO

its cute, it matched loke design AND personality wise, wish there were more lion elements but overall v cute

CANCER

i already talked abt my thoughts on this dress here so yeits just good AND the pigtails r ok bc they r meant to mimic cancers silhouette which I really like

summary:

[gaystardykeco]

need to sleep but the Dread is consuming me

[mallowstep]

hi, matthew! i just read the newest chapter of btbm, which was very good but also painful. if you don't mind me asking, why is tigerstar doing this to feather and stone? ostensibly, it's b/c they need more kits, but the two combined clans will probably have litters together that would be much less at risk?

i don't i love questions!

cw: too tired to write one, so like. dead dove do not eat (dddne) on this ig?

tldr is you're taking him too at face. tigerstar just needs an excuse. he wants to torture these cats. he wants to make their lives hell. mostly stonefur. featherpaw's just an accessory.

okay wait let me restart.

he wants to make stonefur's life hell. he wants to punish stonefur. he wants to torture stonefur and make him suffer. if tigerstar knew that his actions would haunt stonefur for the rest of his life, he'd be fucking thrilled. "yes," he would think. "i successfully turned one of bluestar's children into a predator."

on the featherpaw side of things, she's. ig tigerstar's. uhh fuck it's too late for me to be doing this bc i don't want to. like. *waves hands* the point is tigerstar's a predator and also has a breeding kink. idea of getting a she-cat pregnant and then just keeping her pregnant for the rest of her life, churning out litter after litter of kits? he finds that sexy. his interest in featherpaw is Layered, but one part of it is that he can manipulate her into wanting that. and he has.

and like it's not about the kits. i, uh, it was going to b in the latest chapter but then i moved stuff around so sneak peak for y'all (cw: excerpt and i'm too tired for that so dddne):

“No, she’s perfect. I wish I took her. Being pregnant suits her so well, and I’d never deny someone what they were made for.” He’s paying just too much attention to her for her to leave. “I’d fuck her until her belly was so swollen with kits it hurt. I bet I could get three litters a year out of her.”

She doesn’t ask him why he’d even want all those kittens. It’s besides the point.

so like yeah it's not about the kittens. it's about the fact that she is Having Kittens. uh. tigerstar's a fucked up man he is.

but he couldn't care less about them. there literally ARE other queens rn. or will be. i mean there's...there r apprentices older than feather's first litter, so i think that means there r literally other queens right now. but tigerstar does not fucking care. he's into the idea of forcing someone having to have kits until they believe that their only purpose in life, and he gets to ruin bluestar's son in the process.

<3

[goldentsum]

— delivery boy

PAIRING: shinsou x reader

GENRE: fluff, awkward scenes

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: a sleep-deprived college student just trying to get by the hellhole he’s in by getting a job as a delivery boy. shinsou hates what he does but if he can get a certain cutie, it might lessen his hatred for his job. 

TAGS: college au, just fluff with soft and awkward shinsou, sleep-deprived! shinsou as always, cursing, crack

AUTHOR’S NOTE: quarantine made me do it. sighhh, can’t i have a cute delivery boy everytime i order shit? also, shinsou is me pls. D:<

shinsou hates his job. he doesn’t like it one bit. the way some orders are too long that he was using his big brain juice all the time or when someone cancels their order when he already bought the fucking food, he absolutely hates it. his faith in humanity is decreasing at a rapid speed with his job, not like it exists to begin with anyway.

the purple-haired male is proud of his 4.0 gpa despite him slowly losing his sanity as he lose sleep over it but there was this asshole of a teacher in literature 3 was making it difficult to maintain it just because the old geezer has his head stuck in his ass and he won’t even give them the ppt slides, that asshole. 

shinsou rubbed his tired eyes while his one hand typed on his computer, listening to the asshole professor in front. the male craned his neck and massaged his neck then took a quick sip of coffee, closing his eyes as he did so. when he opened his eyes the slide in front was already different, making him put down his drink in surprise and tried to copy the notes in a hurry, cursing quietly when he noticed that the last sentence in his notes was cut off.

he fussed over his notes because it was the only thing that’s keeping him from failing the class. the professor was an asshole and liked to pick on his students and shinsou absolutely hates him. he swears when he graduates, he’ll curse the professor off and flip him off as he walks away from this hellhole. 

when the class finished, shinsou looked at his notes in horror. it was cut off in a lot of places and so incoherent that when he tried to read it, he thought he gave himself an aneurysm because of it. 

his tired eyes stared blankly at his screen while his internal monologue went on about how he’ll just find a sugar mommy and live his best life while the other students went out the room. his thoughts were then cut off when he heard an oh so familiar voice echoing out to him like a siren in the sea. 

purple eyes turned to the side and saw you with your friends who were waiting outside the classroom door as you walked away from his sight. shinsou’s not gonna admit it but he finds you really pretty. you’re just so soft and small compared to him. your sweet smile was always present every morning unlike his dead eyes and resting bitch face. annoyingly, you always distract him from the lessons which freaks him out. 

no one has ever fazed him but then you came along with your annoyingly pretty face and aesthetic outfits. always sitting beside him, you smelled really sweet too as creepy as that sounds, and you always greet him with such softness that it made him wanna vomit rainbows and sparkles. no one has ever caught his attention so how the hell can you distract him without even doing anything? 

also, why do you write your notes in a notebook and still make it look really good and clean? every time he looks over to your side, he sees your notes and his eyes bulge out when your pretty handwriting, the cute and small illustrations, and pretty colors of your notes fill his sight. 

that’s also one of the things shinsou liked admired about you. you’re probably the only person in your whole batch who writes their notes on a notebook, not that it’s a bad thing but how can your notes still be so pretty and organized even with professor asshole’s hellish pace of changing the slides? 

shinsou sighed and ran a hand through his messy tresses then fixed his things up to get away from the hellhole and come home to his lovely bed. It must've been at least 24 hours since he last slept because he was up all night the other day to fix and perfect every assignment in the devil’s class. 

when he finally got to his dorm, a huge sigh of relief left him as the tall male practically collapsed on his bed. his fatigue overcame him in an instant as his eyes closed in instinct, finally sleeping after stressing so much and intaking coffee, lots of coffee. thank god that it was friday and he didn’t have to wake up early because he finally passed his requirements to every class for the semester.

it was already the next afternoon when shinsou woke up, his body ached but at least he wasn’t running on caffeine to keep him from falling over and dying on the spot. 

loud clanking was heard from his kitchen as he perked up in confusion for a moment then groaned in dread when he realized who it was. shinsou let his head hit the pillow once again, staring at his ceiling and he felt a headache coming in already.

fucking kaminari is in his dorm again. he didn’t get the blond’s actions but the latter always told him that he was “making sure he wasn’t dead yet” but shinsou knows that kaminari only wants free food but he appreciates the effort, he guesses but can’t kaminari check if he wasn’t dead a little quieter? 

he sighed in annoyance and grabbed his phone, going out after stretching and feeling his bone pop satisfyingly. shinsou was greeted with the sight of kaminari fighting with the sizzling oil on the pan in his kitchen. 

“what the fuck are you doing?” shinsou’s bored voice reached the blond male who looked at him and smiled, “morning dude. i noticed you had bacon so i’m gonna cook it.” 

shinsou was about to reply but the sharp yelp kaminari let out cut him off and he watched the shorter male curse at the pan, rubbing the spot where the hot oil hit him. 

he scoffed at the scene and shook his head as he sat on the couch and opened the tv. he was scrolling idly through the channels and when he didn’t find anything entertaining, he stopped on the news. 

opening his phone to check his social media feed as he let the tv and kaminari’s curses and screams become background noises. shinsou just wants to see what type of shit people are in these days and it wasn’t because he’s gonna stalk your account. definitely not that. 

shinsou scrolled through your pictures on ig, admiring the aesthetic ones combined with chaotic energy in your profile. he smiled a bit when he noticed you unarchived an old pic in your ig. you had shorter hair in the picture and wore some funky shades. 

“ohh~ who’s that? she’s cute” kaminari popped out behind him, looking at shinsou’s phone over his shoulders. shinsou jumped at his friend’s presence, letting go off his phone accidentally as he tried to grab it to not let it smack against the hard floor. 

when shinsou saved his phone, he whipped his head and glared at kaminari, “what the fuck, denki!” 

“geez, sorry man” the latter nervously chuckled and walked back to the kitchen with fear coursing in his body when the taller male’s glare didn’t falter. shinsou rolled his eyes at him and looked at his phone. his usual dead eyes widened whilst horror filled his system. 

on his phone, it showed your old picture from a year ago and on the bottom left, the heart was filled. shinsou quickly unliked the picture and threw the phone beside him on the couch as if it burned him. 

“what the fuck what the fuck no no no no--” he mumbled in distress, his heart beating a mile per second. he paled when he imagined seeing you again in class on monday. 

“i’m gonna puke,” shinsou muttered and held his head, eyes wavering in fear. kaminari poked his head from the kitchen and saw his distressed figure. 

“um? shinsou? are you okay, dude?” 

when he heard kaminari’s voice, his head whipped to him in a snap. shinsou smiled at him as a shiver ran down kaminari’s spine. “do i look okay, denki?” 

a loud scream echoed in shinsou’s dorm and that was the last time anyone has ever seen kaminari denki. rip. 

shinsou was stressing the fuck out, he even felt tears prick his eyes with how stressed out he is. nothing could compare to the stress he’s feeling right now well maybe his first finals was also this stressful but that’s not the point. kaminari tried to cheer him up with some bacon and eggs but the male was so snappy though he ate the food after denki left. 

after sulking in his dorm, he shook it off and tried to take his mind off it. he showered, worked out a bit in his room, and made some shake but the embarrassment was always looming in the back of his mind. you might think he’s a creep or something. you two barely talked to each other with only good mornings and pleasantries exchanged for the whole semester so what the hell is he gonna do?! 

before he knew it, he was accepting some orders in his phone to let out some steam and keep him busy. for the first 2 orders everything was fine but he suddenly got tired and the shame he left at his apartment was still in his system. so he accepted the last order for today before going back to his dorm to do his last resort of screaming into the void. he then went to the boba shop to get the orders. 

getting the order, he went straight to a nearby dorm in his campus that’s being shown in his phone to get the money and yeet himself out afterwards. shinsou rubbed his neck, mentally and physically tired after going around and delivering people their food and from getting a harsh life-changing embarrassment happen to him. he’s never gonna stalk you or anyone for that matter again and if he ever sees you again, he’s gonna jump through the nearest fucking window, he doesn’t even care anymore. 

as he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door and get the heavy milk teas off his hand, he was already thinking of going to another school and just live a whole new second life. dramatic as that sounds but it was tempting at this point.

but life was not having it. life wants to see him suffer thoroughly. before he thought he just had some bad luck but now, he knows that life was fucking him over and laughing at his misery. 

the door opened and in came to view the last person he wants to see right now, you, and it’s not fair, why are you answering the door with an oversized shirt and some shorts with messy hair, looking like a goddamn cutie! you want to kill him, don’t you? 

your (e/c) eyes gleam with familiarity when you see the awkward tall male from your class and saw the precious boba in one of his hands.

“shinsou, right? i didn’t know you did delivery?” you smiled at him making the purple-headed male scream internally. he cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded, “y-yeah, the pay isn’t that much but it helps...” he replied so painfully awkward that if anyone sees you two, they’ll cringe. it was that bad.

but being the angel that you are, you giggled and nodded as if you weren’t affected by his awkwardness. he’s thankful for that. 

“wait a second, okay? i’ll get the payment” you chimed and he nodded as you run inside the dorm. shinsou’s mind was running a mile per second, did you not receive the notification of his shameful actions? or were you being an angel and sparing him the embarrassment? 

he wants to hibernate and never leave him bed after this. shinsou snapped out of his thoughts when he saw you jogging towards him with the same beautiful smile you wear everyday and he unconsciously straightened up. 

“here you go! thank you, shinsou!” you giggled and got the milk teas of his hands while you gave the money to him. 

“thank you, (y/n)... um, are you gonna drink all of that?” he asked, cursing his mouth when he just blurted it out. your eyebrows quirk playfully and chuckled, shaking your head no. 

“no, silly. my friends are inside” shinsou nodded stiffly and looked around making you two just stand in silence. a painfully awkward silence. shinsou saw you were about to say something but a loud voice from inside the room called out.

“(y/n), where the fuck are you?! the boba! ..shit-! i saw that, you cheater!” you looked back and rolled your eyes then looked back at him. you waved your hand at him with a smile, “well bye, shinsou. thanks again” and closed the door. 

shinsou exhaled a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking at the closed door. he then walked away though his eyes were going to the door again and again until he couldn’t see it anymore. he looked at his hand and saw a piece of paper inside the bundle of money. 

with furrowed brows, he opened the folded paper and he was floored! 

hi shinsou! call me sometime! :)

xxx-xxxxxxx

-(y/n) 

okay, maybe being a delivery boy isn’t so bad after all. he got your number didn’t he? talk about lucky! 

extra crack ending: when you and shinsou are finally dating

(y/n): so... are we really not gonna talk about the post that you liked in my ig?

shinsou: you knew?! 

(y/n): duh bitch.

[futurewriter2000]

Breaking Him

A/N: I’m going to be honest with you here. This turned out SO MUCH BETTER than I thought it would and I am seriously considering making this a series, which would be my fist for Draco Malfoy. I don’t know, you have to tell me but I DON’T KNOW! Maybe....maybe not....Maybe a sad ending isn’t bad. I’ll see. 

REQUEST: Hey girl! I was wondering if you could write a Draco x reader where she's also a pureblood Slytherin and super confident & flirty, and he really wants to date her but she kinda ignores him/isn't intrested and he doesn't know why. You can totally choose the ending, I'm sorry if it's too long!! thank you 

XX

Could you believe that from all the boys that wanted to be with you, he was the one who was most determined to make that come true? 

The first time he realized it was in Third year of Hogwarts when the two of you were partnered up in Astrology and you being you just kept flirting the guy because that’s what makes the time pass faster. 

You never meant for him to fall for you. You never meant to do any harm with flirtng but you didn’t think this through. When you flrit with someone, you make them belive you are interested. 

But you weren’t. You flirted because it was amusing, fun and because you were bored. 

“Hey there, Lovely.” his arm wrapped itself on your shoulder and you tensed up. 

“Hey, Malfoy.” you said, shaking your shoulder out of his hold. “I am actually really running late to McGonagall, so I have to go.” you turned around to him and started walking faster. 

“See you at lunch then?” 

“Uhm, I have a study date with some friends.” you kept surfing through your drawer of excuses. 

“Dinner then?”

“Big exam tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he said really quietly and disappointed when you disappeared around the corner. 

You were avoiding him. For years he has been trying to get your attention and you still avoided him. Why? 

If you gave him a chance, he would show you how to love. He isn’t as his reputation holds him to be. He is not some heartless snake. He has a heart and his heart is always filled just because of you. 

For him you were the one. You were confident, you had the alpha energy that drove him insane and challanged his own. You were loyal, down to earth, witty, selfless, brave, intelligent and all the good qualities that could make you sound like a queen and each night he thought of you... of both of you. And sometimes those thoughts wandered far off, into mornings after a heated night or a scene where you wore a stunning white gown and he’d be the one standing on the aile, putting a ring on your finger. 

Yes, he was indeed messed up when it came to you because you gave him feelings and thoughts he never thought could manifest. You’d be perfect. His parents would adore you because he knew you would make sure of it. You weren’t afraid, you weren’t shy or quiet, you were the one who could enter a room and cause the attention fall on you without saying a single word. 

You, him?- It was meant to be. 

And when he struggled with his sheets, his sleeping position, his insomnia, he knew it was because of you because how perfectly your hands would hold each other’s and how dreamily your lips would lock, his arms would hold you tight, his eyes observe your curves...

“Ugh!” he grumbled into the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Why are you so stubborn?! Why won’t you agree on a date with him?! Why don’t you give him a chance to prove himself to you?! 

He would love you! He would love you for the queen that you are meant to be! 

Maybe if he thought of something else? Maybe that oaf who guards the creatures in the woods- Oh how you would purse your lips and narrow your eyes at him if you heard him say that. It’s just adorable teasing you. 

He laid on his back and smiled at the ceiling before realizing what he is doing and turning back to the side with wide eyes. 

No. He said he won’t think of you.

Then why the fuck are you still in his head?!! 

‘Get out! Of! My! HEAD!’ he screamed in his mind.

But not really... he wanted to think about you all the time but the point was, he was tired and he wanted to fall asleep and think about you tomorrow but right now when he’s thinking of you, you’re just so pretty and your smile has such a nice curve in the corners, your laugh is all so girly but all so loud as well- Are you a Saggitarious? Those go well with Geminis...He’s a Gemini. Those are compatible with fire signs, aren’t they? 

‘OH MY GOD! STOP!’ - he covered his ears but that seemed stupid to him since it was his brain that needed to shut up and his brains doesn’t have ears. 

Hope she’s not a Virgo since Virgos and Geminis are like the most contrast to eachother and toxic. 

‘I’m losing my mind over her.’ - he told himself. 

She smells good, don’t you think? How does she always smell so good? It’s always one of the four perfumes and let’s be honest, the mandarine covered in chocolate perfume, as odd combination as it sounds it really makes his thoughts go wild. 

Like now.

‘I hate my mind.’- he says because now he could even smell that perfume and it just makes him a bit oozy as he thinks of you and him together in bed but before he could think any further, he finally falls asleep. 

---

He wakes up, exhausted, knowing exactly what happened last night before he went to sleep. Glaring at the ceiling, he grunts. “So you shut down just before it get’s interesting?”

Well, yes. That’s how Gemini brain works. Complicated. 

“Ugh.” he swings on the ground and ruffles his blonde hair, running his hands down his face. 

“Slept well?” his roomate said, showing him a teasing grin. 

“Fabulous.” he grunted again. 

“I’d say.” he continues to tease. “Someone particulate on your mind last night?” he sat on the chair and nibbled on some peanuts. “You know...keeping you awake?” 

“Hey Nott? You’re a Virgo, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Figured. I hate Virgos. They annoy me.” he said and put his clothes on. 

Theodore snorted and spun on his chair. “I see, my love for astrology spread on you. “

“I hate it.”

“Liar. You’re a Gemini. One part of you likes it, which can be enough for you to be curious what she is.”

“I don’t care what her Zodiac is!” Draco snapped at him. “It’s dumb and totally for for odd sods like you!”

“This odd sod notices a lot of things and knows a lot of things.” he stood up and walked up to him. “And this odd sod can be lethal to two-faced arseholes like you, Malfoy. Don’t think that I am afraid of you because you don’t scare me.”

“Whatever.” Draco brushed him off, grabbing his bag and walking through the door. 

He was furious. He was and he knew that even though Theo and he fight a lot, they’re still quite close and he cares about him... but that doesn’t make him any less annoying. 

“Nott and his stupid astrology.” he mumbled under his hot breath, knocking some students out of his way. “Move!” he snarled, smirking back at the group who were picking up their books. “Filthy mudbloods.” and he walked forward. 

---

He walked in his favorite class and saw an empty sit beside you- you who were practically burrying your whole face in the book. So without any hesitation, he walked and sat himself next to you. 

You jumped out of the book and looked at him. “This seat is taken.”

“I know, by me.” he started pulling out his school supplies. 

“No, I mean-”

“Why are you ignoring me?” he turned to you with all his body and kept a serious expression.

This time you were caught off guard, not knowing exactly what to say, so you stuttered. “I...I’m not ig...ignoring you.” 

“Liar.” he said. “I just want to know because-”

“Can we not do this here?” you pleaded with your eyes and they had a powerful effect on him and as much he would subdue to your effect, he couldn’t.

“Why? So you could ignore me again?” 

“Merlin, Malfoy!” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the class. 

You were furious. Furious that he was so persistant and pushy to make you do this and most of all, you were fuming because you have to deal with this. 

“Go on now!” you threw his hand from your hand and that only caused him to grow redder from his rage. “What do you want to know? Why I am not interested in you?!”

“Why you treat me the way you do!? Why don’t you just give me the chance to-”

“Because you are a heartless bastard!” you shouted at him and his heart dropped into his stomach. “I’m not interested into dating, let alone caring for someone who loves violance and finds satisfaction from other people’s suffering! This morning you knocked a bunch of First years! Calling them filthy mudbloods!” you continued to shout, pointing your finger at him, completely blind to the tears that were coming up to the surface. “You’re cruel and evil little roach, who does nothing but bully other people and kiss ass to every professor! You’re whiny and a coward! And for you to believe that I would ever date a person like you- YOU?!” you scoffed, laughing. “In your dreams, Malfoy boy. And since you always talk about others not being in your league, maybe someone as pathethic and feeble like Pansy Parkinson will be just perfect for you.” you finished, crossing your arms over your chest and wanting to leave but his words stopped you. 

“You’re right.” 

He said and you stopped. Not to what he said but how he said it. His voice felt...hurt and as much as you were aiming for that, you didn’t want to hear it. Turning around you finally noticed the one thing that you were so oblivious due to your rage. The wound your roughness caused. 

“You’re right. I am cruel and mean, evil, pathetic- honestly, I don’t know how many insults you exactly used but I am surprised you know so many of them. You call me heartless and all of that but you don’t even know me. Yes, I hurt other people but that’s what’s expected of me but you? I wouldn’t expect for you to sink as low as me.”

“I didn’t. I just called you out on the things you don’t see.” you said.

“No. I already knew all those stuff but you wouldn’t know that because you never gave me the chance to show you that besides all of those flaws, I might have a good side too. I was willing to look out the fact that you chose the popularity over the nice, kind and shy girl who welcomed you so warmly to your house. Margo, if I’m correct?”

You stood there in silence, your heart thumping in your chest. “How do you know about that?”

“Because believe it or not, Margo is a family friend who I never much associated with but had to due to the family connection. I know she’s fragile, I know she’s shy and socially-awkward and I know that you were the one who broke her.” he said meanwhile.

“I didn’t-”

“You broke her, (y/n). Admit it. You knew she was always getting you into embarrassing situations and always clinging to you like a puppy, which you hated. So you started spreading gossip around, just so you could get rid of her.”

“They stopped two days after, it was innocent.” you defended. You weren’t proud of that. You were a completely different person back then. You grew up since then.

“They stopped because I made them stop.” he growled, walking closer to you. “Like I said, Margo and I didn’t associate but had to. We were friends but she knew me better than you and better than anybody that I am a flawed man, who has to act the way I do because of my family. Never in all my Hogwarts years we exchanged words but the day she came running to me, bawling her eyes out from all the bullying you started! You don’t even know what people did to her when you spread stories about her the way you did! And you broke her! She’s not in school, she’s not anywhere to be found and that’s beccause YOU drove her away!” 

You were quiet, ashamed but you still felt your pride get in the way of showing that. So you just made the situation worse. “You sound like you care.”

“I do. Back then I didn’t know who started the rumors but through years I found out and I didn’t know what to do because I fancied you and I denied you could ever do this but now? Now you proved you’re just as horrible as I am. Yes, I bully other people, yes, I boast, YES, I called them filthy mudbloods today but don’t for a moment think that you know me?! Don’t for a moment call me those names and insults when you don’t know where I’m coming from or how I’m treated! You don’t know anything about me! Nothing! And thanks to now, you just showed me why I should never care about you too because caring for a hypocrite like you... that would be just a waste of my time.” he started backing away but you weren’t going to let this slide away so easy. 

“YOU CALL ME A HYPOCRITE! You don’t know me! You keep talking about how I don’t know you and keep calling you names when you do the same! YOU DO EXACTLY THE SAME!”

He laughed in the distance, turning around and walking slowly back to you and for a moment. For a small, short moment you saw how his body moved elegantly and relaxed, dragging his feet and swaying his hips. His shoulders were broad, his uniform was sharp, hair a bit messed up- a blonde strand falling in front of his forehead and his eyes... his eyes were blazing yours. 

You felt yourself sweat from his energy; your palms got sweaty, your muscles stiffed up and you were frozen like a rock.

“I know exactly who you are. I know what you like, I know how you feel about certain things, I know who your dad is, since he works with mine and has been at my mansion for one, two-” he started counting on his long fingers, before dropping his hand, backing you against the wall and pressing his hands on it, so you and him? The two of you were just an inch away. “- too many times. He talked about you quite a lot. He’s proud but boasting a bit too much, meaning he’s not as proud as he pretends to be.  So, I’d say I do know you more than you know because I put effort in getting to know people I fancy meanwhile you don’t even give a chance a person. “

“ I don’t give chances to people like you.” you growled, getting closer to him as his thin lips curve into a smile. He bit on his lower lip and looked down on yours, sending an unfamiliar wave of heat down your body. You didn’t know if he’s going to kiss you, which you hated to admit that you wanted him to, or... or...well that’s it. 

“People like me?” he tilted his head to the side, grinning.

“Two-faced.” you spat out.

“Oh, honey, look in the mirror.” he laughed. “All friendly, all flirty, all nice and kind but in reality you break people just like you did with Margo.” 

“Can you stop mentioning her?!” you start to grow irritated, staring at his piercing grey eyes but feeling a sudden urge to pull him closer. Yet you restrain yourself because it’s confusing and unclear....unfamilliar. 

“Feeling guilty?” 

“I don’t feel anything.”

“So, you’re the heartless one?” he kept teasing but you kept growing more and more frustrating. 

“What? No! I-” you kept trying to find words but he was closing the space between the two of you and you were backed agains the wall, pressed on his chest and breathing heavily. The air was hot, you were sweating and feeling your breath come out uneven. Draco caught that into his attention and enlarged the amount of mischief in his eyes. 

You couldn’t speak- hell, you barely even breathed. Then as you stared into his eyes his eyes changed, not in colour nor the shape. It was something inside that changed that made him back away and lower his head. 

“I really thought you were worth it.” he looked up at you, your red stained cheeks and your parted lips, grabbing for an air. You kept looking at him, seeing a simper that didn’t reach his eyes and knowing you messed up. 

But how could you mess up, knowing he deserved what you said? 

“Guess, you’re just like the others.” he started backing away, giving you one last glance before disappearing into the distance.

You wanted to say something. You wanted to speak but your throat was dry and unable to provide any kind of sound. You took a hold of it, staring where he disappeared and knowing, deep inside, you knew. You broke him.

[blushessence]

LAGOM Cellus Sun Gel SPF 50 PA+++ Review

Wanting to try out new sunscreens is one of my favourite things when buying skincare, and Korean skincare is unmatched when it comes to sunscreens. Their advanced screening technology with new ingredients makes them, in my opinion, way ahead of the western market. So as I was browsing Skinsider, one of my favourite K-beauty stores, I came across this sun gel. I took one at the glowing reviews and added it to my basket immediately. 

On the Skinsider website, this sunscreen is described as:

Providing “maximum UVB and UVA protection.”

Being “great for oily and combination skin types.”

“The incredibly lightweight texture provides matte finish and is very easy to apply. Your skin will absorb it immediately.” 

“In addition, normal and dry skin types will enjoy it because Lagom Cellus Sun Gel SPF50 PA+++ nourishes skin with its natural herbal extracts and oils plus hydrating Aqualicia formula. The sun gel soothes and protects the skin. It prevents the ingredients from evaporation and destruction. Hence, moisture and active ingredients can be absorbed deep into the skin.”

Okay, let’s get into this!

The texture isn’t like a ‘typical’ sunscreen, it feels more like a lightweight, somewhat thin daytime moisturiser which is perfect for those with oily/combination skin types. There is a slightly strong citrus type scent to it due to it containing essential oils, but I’ll get to that soon.

My thoughts:

I’ve tried a lot of sunscreens and I always seem to come back to my trusty COSRX Aloe Soothing Sun Cream SPF 50 PA+++, but this LAGOM sun gel doesn’t have me reaching for my usual one anymore which is a nice surprise! The consistency feels more like a milky essence which I love because when I reapply it throughout the day, it doesn’t feel like it starts pilling up like it does when I reapply other sunscreens I use. This absorbs into my skin effortlessly, it does not leave a white cast and gives me a lovely glow with a satin-like finish, as opposed to the matte finish the description says it gives. It also gives me a really nice base for when I want to apply makeup over the top. However, after applying SPF I like to wait around 5 minutes before applying makeup to just ensure that the SPF has created an effective protective ‘shield’ over the places I’ve applied it to.

NOTE: SPF 50 PA+++ is the highest protection rating a sunscreen can have. As someone who suffers from hyperpigmentation, I don’t use sunscreens with anything lower than this as I want to protect my skin the best I can and get rid of my dark marks faster. Also, I apply (and reapply) quite a lot to keep up its effectiveness against UVA and UVB rays. I follow Jude Chao’s technique (IG: fiddysnails) of ‘measuring’ it on your 3 middle fingers (shown below) and then applying it across the face, neck and chest. 

In her video she uses a cream puff to blend it into her skin which is a really good technique, and I have tried this technique a few times with sunscreens that are on the thicker side. However, for the majority of the sunscreens I use, including the LAGOM sun gel, I find that it’s light enough to blend in without the need for a puff. 

This sunscreen has found its permanent place on my vanity table and will definitely be purchasing more than one when my current one runs out (which I’m sure will be fairly soon!). However, my only caveat with it is that it contains essential oils and alcohol, which may be a concern to those with sensitive skin. I would say that I also have quite reactive skin so I usually tend to stay away from products that contain alcohol and fragrance/essential oils, but I was pleasantly surprised! I did a patch test (always remember to patch test a product behind your ear when trying something new!!) and I had no adverse reaction to it and my skin has been okay with it since I started using it regularly.

EDIT: there have been studies conducted that demonstrate that denatured alcohol (ethanol) in skincare products doesn't actually damage your skin as previously thought. This is due to the small percentage that is used within skincare products and has been demonstrated that at least 97% of the ethanol in the product evaporates upon application. If you want to know more, Lab muffin did a really informative video and blog post about this!

So for now, this sunscreen is a 9/10 in my eyes but if LAGOM decided to reformulate it to have the same feel but without the essential oils, I wouldn’t hesitate to give it 10/10! 

If you’ve tried this or have any thoughts about this, let me know!

INGREDIENTS: Water, Ethylhexyl Methoxycinnamate, Octocrylene, Alcohol Denat., Ethylhexyl Salicylate, Butyl Methoxydibenzoylmethane, Propanediol, Methyl Methacrylate Crosspolymer, Bis-Ethylhexyloxyphenol Methoxyphenyl Triazine, Methoxy PEG/PPG-25/4 Dimethicone, Bis-PEG/PPG-20/5 PEG/PPG-20/5 Dimethicone, Caprylic/Capric Triglyceride, Sodium Acrylate/Sodium Acryloyldimethyl Taurate Copolymer, Dimethicone, Isohexadecane, Acrylates/C10-30 Alkyl Acrylate Crosspolymer, Caprylyl Glycol, Citrus Aurantium Dulcis (Orange) Oil, Ethylhexylglycerin, Panthenol, Polysorbate 80, BHT, Sodium Hydroxide, 1,2-Hexanediol, Lavandula Angustifolia (Lavender) Oil, Sorbitan Oleate, Disodium EDTA, Geranium Maculatum Oil, Citrus Aurantium Bergamia (Bergamot) Fruit Oil, Santalum Album (Sandalwood) Oil, Rose Flower Oil, Chamomilla Recutita (Matricaria) Flower Oil, Styrax Benzoin Gum, Commiphora Myrrha Oil, Urea, Indole Acetic Acid, Hydrolyzed Vegetable Protein, Maltodextrin

[yeetdam]

Could you ship your mutuals with silverboys/treasure 13? I’m curious 🙀

smh i accidentally closed the tab before i could save it fml but anyway: instead of studying maths and after killing my body with a 45 min workout, i am here to answer this ask that was long overdue thank you anon for being so curious uwu!! also i apologize i might’ve got carried away skjdl and this is not proofread in any shape or form

@yoonbins x yoonbin is the couple that tries to keep it low but everyone knows that they’re a thing imo 💖 mini god kara i’m not trying to call you out but yoonbin would gladly accept that s***** from you anytime úwù skinship in public isn’t really their thing, but if bin is feeling bold, he’d secretly hold her hand under the desk klasjdklajs kara isn’t one to show her emotions a lot but it’s fine bc yoonbin is an attentive guy and just knows how smitten he is for her!!! not really the most romantic couple out there, but when it comes to banter? OOF nobody can beat them what a pure relationship (also, expect long cuddle sessions when it’s just the two of them teehee)

@byounggonsgf x byounggon is the power couple everyone on ygtb tumblr and their MUMS know of and approve of: first of all, visual wise?? GOD TIER. SUPERIOR. YOU WISH. we all know how much of a visual kweenie angel zeen is, and we all know how hot gon is (pls the entire fandom has a crush on him) and the two combined?? YOUR FAVS COULD NEVER (unless your favs are zeen and gon uwu) also, just one glance at zeen’s tags just show how much love she harbors for him and i imagine her to be the type to write stuff abt him in a seperate notebook and when gon finds out, he’ll go all out and arrange some romantic candlelight dinner or shit 💖 in other words, they’re the disgustingly sweet couple you’d see in romance anime uwu

@ggoncafe x byounggon is also a ship i advocate !!! he’d do anything to make ess smile and laugh; it’s one of his fav sights after all - especially that thing that ess does where she scrunches her nose whenever she laughs??? he is SOLD. WHIPPED. IN AWE. i feel like gon can be quite the romantic in his way and would write so many songs abt ess lskjdlkj aside of that, ess strikes me as the type to annoy the shit out of him just for fun LMAO - it’s nothing bad, imagine this: she’d text him in capslock and keyboard smashes just to garner his attention and then, he’d face time her and try to be fed up but in reality? he’s glad she did that? bc that gives him the perfect excuse to see her lkjsdj 

say what you want; okay cool you think the earth is flat fine then but not thinking that @mashilove x byounggon is a cute ship? sis you’re abt to cATcH ThESe HaNDs - uyen radiates something akin to big mom energy: maybe it’s partly bc she’s just as old as gon but her tags to everyone just SCREAM soft protective nature 💖 also i feel like uyen, as great as she is, sometimes deals with huge insecurity issues and gon would try his best to lift up her spirits and convince her that she is a beautiful child of the angels the world doesn’t even deserve!!! we are talking abt gon dedicating 28398309 songs to her and cuddle attacks and soft shit oof

looking back i realize byounggon also has a mf power harem and to finish it off, i also think that @speckofglitter x byounggon is the couple you should be scared of. why scared? bc they’re gonna make you set your standards so impossibly high AND THATS THE TEA 💖 gon picking up tiyi after her lectures at university? every time when he can afford to? which is pretty much every second day? and if he has much free time before he’d make sure to buy some food for tiyi? it doesn’t help that he’s a soundcloud rapper of course everyone’s gonna have high standards! it doesn’t stop there tho; just imagine them trying some couple dances like ellen and Brian hnnngh 

@junkyeu x junkyu is ! so ! pure !!!! junkyu would be so so smitten and so so proud of Linh and he’d take any opportunity to boast abt her. she’s so beautiful? he’d say that to every second stranger they pass by. she’s a multilingual queen? he’d tweet it out several times a day, post it on his snapchat, probably write it on a wall “LINH IS A MULTILINGUAL LEGEND YOUR S/O COULD NEVER 💖“ and so on. he is so damn supportive up to the point where it might be a little excessive to her but she still loves him dearly :’) the harshest thing she might do is prolly insult him lightly in any language he doesn’t understand LMAOOO

1/3 of the seunghun harem ship i support is @kimseunghoney x seunghun ! yet another couple that would flaunt that they’re together but guess what?? everyone is LIVING for it 💖 christina is such a soft fluffball who’s trying her best to get through her exams and seunghun being the supportive (yet needy) boyfriend he is, would partly distract her partly help her?? he’d be the type to randomly come over to her place with the reason of wanting to help her study bc ! good ! grades ! is ! what ! she ! wants ! but then five minutes later, he’d try to get her to take a break and then woo her to a nap bc she’s been working so hard uwu (also, the perfect timing for him to fill up his camera roll full of pics of christina saljdlk)

2/3 of the seunghun harem is @seunghunies x seunghun 💖 now with those two combined,,,, get ready for the skinship and disgustingly domestic and tooth rotten fluff between them uGh [edit: the latter got deleted WHY TUMBLR WHY SMH so starting here is the cont.] seunghun is the type to show off that vale is his up to the point where he might shove it up everyone and their mum's faces jskdk but it's full of love!!! Snapchat? Instagram? Everywhere — he's gonna say how much he loves vale during an ig live or in his story dedicated to vale and vale ONLY 💞🤧 also!!! Restaurant dates!!!! So many!!!! They'd go taste testing in the entire city !!!! And he'd take so many pics of her and the best thing abt the cute shit? Vale plays along!! (At least most of the time teehee) say he'd want her to pose for the camera? She'd gladly do it- unless she's feeling a little sneaky then she'd do anything to mess up the snapshot kajdjdjkdk we love banter 😜💓

3/3 of the harem is @seunghunn x seunghun uwu THE. SOFTEST. COUPLE. IN THE UNIVERSE. mashikyu doesn’t compare anyway, we’ve already established how much of a passionate lover hun is right?? and i peg seunghun the type to crave his s/o’s attention at any time possible so if you ever lay his eyes off him, he’d do anything to win your attention back! perhaps one might say that maddi cherishes her sleep more than our #1 furry king and if she’s particularly stressed, she’s heading straight to her bed and to the one-hour nap she desperately needs. depending on how hun is feeling, he might either a) play the big spoon and nap with her sdjlkjsa or b) be the whiny bitch he is and try to wake her up (ofc only if he’s 100% sure that she wouldnt mind as much as usual) 💖 in case he guessed wrong and woke her up while she’s pissed, he’d make up with some good homecooked food UGH

@moonxlika x hyunsuk is the badass couple who always hype one another up you don’t even KNOW. be it a competition or a game, you can bet that one is cheering for the other - unless they both participate, then it’d be a mixture of “good luck uwu” or “i’m gonna beat your ass just watch me” 💖 they’re the type to bond over their music taste and seriously lika and hyunsuk aren’t afraid to show that they’re a thing it’s so cute kljfl you know that some ppl get embarrassed when their s/o suddenly does a hoe drop or dresses really hot like with chokers or shit? then there are some ppl who get pissed / jealous / idk at least not embarrassed and shy when their s/o does that? neither of them fall into any of those types. say hyunsuk is suddenly out there with a choker and what do i know a mesh shirt? lika strikes me as someone who’d go yES BITCH THAT HOT DUDE RIGHT THERE IS MY BOYFRIEND SEE HIM and say lika pops of on the dance floor, hyunsuk would be like mY GIRLFRIEND HAS SOME MOVES Y’ALL 

whereas lika x suk could be classified as one of the more hard couples on the spectrum, @hyunsukmyass x hyunsuk is the epitome of bubblegum and sugar and (perhaps little) spice (at least that’s what everyone thinks but sshhh) 💖 i feel like in public suk would try hard to have the image of being sim’s edgy boyfriend but little does he know that sim dishes out the truth to all of her friends HDSJKHSKJ like that one time suk admitted his wallet was suffering due to the bouquet of flowers he bought her when sim was feeling low? or the time where he put his pride and sanity aside and took care of her when she was sick even tho it was a given that he’d get infected too? everyone knows and whereas suk is HIGHkey embarrassed to a certain extent, he’d try to find something he can tease sim with!! and then… he finds it... cute shit sim writes abt suk…. or even worse… her fanfics abt celebrity xy and suk has a LOT of fun teasing her with it ksajdkljkl he’d never say anything negative but once in a while he’d go like “so,,, sim,,,, wanna recreate that one scene you wrote in fanfic xy?” or even “hey what do you think if i were a rocker but also super super good at school?” gET READY FOR THE BANTER AND LAUGHTER AND TICKLE FIGHTS THAT FOLLOW SUIT

[e1ana]

THA updates/character sheets

omg two posts in a day what is this shit

i just feel like i should give a heads up about THA and whats going on and shit. i wont be posting anything for it on A03 for a hooooot minute. like i said in the last post, i’ve been really dry when it comes to THA content. sorry if that bums you out or whatever, but i really need to take it easy with that book for a bit. 

h o w e v e r

my brain just will not let me friggin rest. so, i decided to just do something that’s not really creative but also lets me feel some kind of relief. im gonna make character templates in the style of the BNHA fandom website (with a few exceptions/different thing). I wont make one for every single person, but ill make them for most of class 1-A and some villains. 

there may also be a few introduced characters, so ig you'll get to meet them first!

the first one is my fave sparky queen, Emiko Kaminari!

(fair warning. its suuuuper long.)

BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION:

Name: Emiko Kaminari (Meaning: Emiko - blessing/kindness. Kaminari - thunder) Birthday: August 3rd Age: 15 Gender: Female (She/Her) Height: 4’11” or 149 cm Hair color: Blonde  Eye Color: Yellow Zodiac Sign: Leo Quirk: Technokinesis

STATUS:

Status: Alive Occupation: Student Affiliation: UA High School

OVERVIEW

Emiko Kaminari is a Class 1-A student at UA High School.

Appearance: 

Emiko has bright yellow hair cut in a short bob (a bit like if you smoothed out Denki’s hair). She has distinct bangs that have two long side pieces and several short pieces across her forehead, Her eyes are yellow and flatter on top and rounder at the bottom with distinctly long and straight lashes. She has a tiny birthmark (just larger than a freckle) under her left eye. She inherited her mother’s ear shape, but she can’t use them like her mom can (they can’t extend/plug into anything).  She is incredibly short despite her relatively tall dad, and hopes to grow one day. She has a relatively small chest and thin waist, giving her a lanky but athletic body. Her legs are just slightly too long for her body, adding to her sinewy appearance.

She isn’t a fan of uniform at all, so she only wears it to classes. She alternates between wearing the pants and skirts. When she wears the pants, she wears them high waisted and tucked in. She also takes off her overcoat often (in both outfits), just carrying around and putting it on when she gets yelled at.

Her prototype hero costume pays homage to her dad and mom, but is mostly her own. She wears a black windbreaker jacket with deceptively deep pockets. This also doubles as a shock resistant sheet. Under this, she wears a black sports bra and tight-ish pants with like a MILLION pockets. She’s a slut for functional fashion! She wears black platform sneakers (think FILAs, but not brand name hfjwfkfbwb). They lace up a bit like hiking boots, but the hooks are removable devices.

Personality:

Emiko is super spunky! She’s cheerful and goofy, but not sugary sweet. She has some edge to her, but she’s a very talkative and open person. She’s absolutely obsessed with edgy memes/vines/ ANYTHING internet. She likes to make jokes often, which can sometimes get her into a bit of trouble. She’s very witty and has a sharp tongue, but that’s often just used for humor. She likes to make friends with as many people as possible, but she has no problem getting downright mean with people who mess with her. Her BIGGEST hate is being looked down on. If you underestimate her… look out. Generally, she’s a very friendly person though.

People often see Emiko for exactly what she is because she’s such an open book. Even quiet and broody people like to hang around and socialize with her. If anything, people see her as far more bubbly, since she doesn't like to bust out the mean Emiko. 

ABILITIES:

Overall abilities: 

She doesn’t have a designated fighting style, but she loves to dart and jump around. She’s able to move pretty fast and often jumps around her opponents to confuse them. She also has damn near perfect aim, so this can be used for striking different pressure points.

Since her quirk can’t really be deployed well without technology, she uses several support items to help her. With her Buttons, she can send massive shock waves of electricity wherever they land (including people). She can also communicate with people even if she’s the only one with a communications device.  She uses the electricity from her devices to immobilize her targets or generally just fuck them up. She can also manipulate electricity as long as its expelled from a device.

Emiko has SO many support items:

‘Buttons’ - basically tiny robots with no function. It’s basically just a button with an electric current. She can use them as a distraction or something of course. But Emiko can use her quirk to stick them to people or herself and deploy insane amounts of electricity. Combine that with her precise aim and you’ve got a stun gun that can target specific areas of the body AND control the output of electricity.

TeleCom - This device works kind of like an AirPod but it doesn’t need bluetooth. Its attached just under her ear. It allows her to use her quirk to send messages to her allied (or foes!)

FingerGuns - Just like her dad, Emiko is one funny motherfucker. With these gloves, she can expel the electricity from the devices in whichever direction she points her fingers.

Goggles - These high tech goggles and quickly give and receive information about her allies and opponents. She can use them if she doesn’t know anything about her team/enemy and gather info. Like GoogleGlass but WAY better.

Quirk:

 Emiko’s quirk Technokinesis pretty much gives her the ability to do nearly anything with an electronic device. She can use it to hack whatever device it is, move things around, explode them, or simply use the interface hands free. She can control many devices at once (probably like up to 30 as of right now). As far as explosion goes, it's mostly just electric sparks with a little heat, but obviously there’s damage from any debris (especially if its come in contact with the sparks). Her quirk has a pretty severe drawback though. Emiko suffers drowsiness and decreased cognitive functions with extended regular use of her quirk (like Denki but like 10x less stupid). She also suffers from random severe seizures, but that doesn’t happen too often. 

Super Moves: 

ButtonBlast: Emiko throws a hand full of buttons in a random direction and sticks them to whatever they land on. She then sends them into a massive electrical explosion, ranging from 100 volts to 100,000 volts (will get stronger with training/time!). This is pretty much enough to fry the brain of any unlucky person to get tackled by one of these. It also blows out any device in range, leaving only the ones she controls in use.

BrainFry: Emiko throws a single button with pinpoint accuracy, landing it at her target’s weak points or exposed areas, even while they move. She delivers a quick but hearty shock, rendering her opponent immobile and unable to function.

TeleCom Confusion: Emiko uses her power of music and stupid puns and her quirk together. She confuses her opponents with rambling on and on about someone. She can also blast music directly into their ears and confuse them.

TechnoScream: Emiko + Madosha use their powers together. While Emiko has on noise canceling headphones, Screaming Shadow yells directly into her TeleCom. Emiko then sends this pitch directly into the heads of her opponents and lets it take effect.

STATS

Power: 4/5 Speed: 4/5 Technique: 3/5 Intelligence: 3/5 Cooperativeness: 4/5 Edgy Meme Knowledge: 6/6

Equipment:

Buttons: These bad boys are tiny, but they pack a punch! She has two sizes - one about the size of a dime and some smaller than that. They’re basically constantly short circuiting devices. Emiko can deploy these at any time, releasing high voltage bursts of electricity or explode them. They’re made of a high grade copper and aluminum alloy. They’re thick but hollow with a simple incomplete circuit on the inside.

TeleCom: ...literally just google how AirPods work, and take away the bad parts. Its essentially an AirPod, but it's a flat disk with a strong adhesive on one side.

FingerGuns: The same general workings as the Buttons, but they don't detach. They’re nestled in the fingers of her gloves and activated when she makes a finger gun symbol.

Battles/Events:

Lunchroom Attack

STUDENTS vs villains

Canon ‘Fun’ Facts:

She frequently bugs her friends phones and plants memes in their important documents.

She has pretty damn bad ADHD.

She once dropped her meds in front of Aizawa and asked if he wanted to ‘pop a dirty blue pillie.’ She had two days of detention for that one.

Definitely has a crush on someone in her class.

Her best friend is a class 1-B student named Hansuke Amaiko. She’s known him since they were basically babies

[kirakirababe]

iridescent heaven tea

HELLO SORRY FOR THE INEXCUSABLY LONG WAIT BUT I AM HERE…. NOW

iridescent: what is your skincare routine? IM BAD I DONT HAVE ONE!! DRINK WATER AND EAT LESS SWEETS!! (any and all care products INCLUDING MOISTURIZER make me break out i am here to suffer but for what reasoN)

heaven: favorite color combinations? OOOO IF WE’RE TALKING OPPOSING COLORS LIKE RED/GREEN MY FAVE WOULD BE ORANGE/BLUE HANDS DOWN but otherwise? i like red/orange/yellow (theyre some of my fave colors) … uh gee on the spot ?? idk man my dA acc (eclairdusk)’s favorites show? what color combos i like a lot/am visually attracted to ig     sorry this was a messy answer lmao

tea: favorite films?HANDS DOWN ‘LOST BOYS’ IS MY FAVORITE ITS SO FUNNY I LOVE IT i also love a lot of ghibli films!! i wanna see all of them one day, im almost there!! i also like ? movies i watched a LOT as a kid, like ‘the dark crystal’ and ‘angus, thongs, and perfect snogging’ bc i have the entire dialogues Memorized from when i was 9 ghgjhg‘coraline’ is also a banger!! off the top of my head i cant think of much else rn lmao , hel p

Thank you for the ask, though!!

[namisashimi]

369: ‘Suffering is always by my side.’

source. profile by danneergou (丹尼二狗) for pentaq. images by yan wendi (梁文迪) and yicun (一村).

translator. in a rare moment of free time, i had the chance to watch IG vs. TES in the LPL regional finals; there was something so quintessentially LPL and yet so captivating about a team of rookies taking on the reigning world champions and the chaos that ensued. pentaq has always written these complex, sympathetic and yet strangely bittersweet portraits of LPL players and their struggles in pursuit of a dream, and this one is no different. i hope you’ll enjoy this one.

369 made a motion like climbing a mountain. "I don't know. But I will always be climbing, and I will always be moving forward."

What does the LPL stage mean to a professional player? Only just eighteen, 369 has yet to find time to think about this. All he knows is that ever since he joined TOP's LPL team last November, his life has been like riding a bullet train. Those things he once dared not even imagine - one by one, they have become reality.

"One day, I will be a professional player," 369 once boasted to his classmates; at the time, he was still a student and his account 菜鸟 (t/n: 'noob') was only Gold. Many years later, when he found himself standing on the Demacia Cup stage for the first time, looking at the tide of people below him, letting the audience's cheers for their opponent IG crash over him, "If these people were cheering for us, wouldn't that be even better?"

To listen to those cheers, he has already given up much. He said goodbye to his best friend, took on more stress and frustration, and faced his own inner demons head-on. Throughout this process, suffering has been his constant companion.

"When you play professionally, in a hundred days, maybe ninety-nine of them will be losses. And only in an hour of that one remaining day will you taste success." Little P, a coach for the academy team who watched 369's journey from the LDL to the LPL, felt that this was a road every player must walk. "All kinds of negative feedback are entangled with a player's career. For many of them, even up until they retire, they will have no way to understand this."

To an outsider, he might already seem gifted with extraordinary luck - he only spent one season on the academy team before being promoted to the main team. In the spring split, he was already a starting player; they finished third in the regular season, fourth in playoffs, and earned the chance to represent LPL at Rift Rivals. At only eighteen, this boy already had a chance that could change his life - but he had no time to celebrate; he had to hurry to the next battlefield.

"If I think about it, I've lived eighteen years. All the previous years were plain and faint; it seems only this one has a spark of light."

one. giving up, holding on.

No matter what, 369 has always said what he thought - even if, in that moment, it felt like everyone else was standing against him.

This was how it seemed in July 2018, the first time Little P saw him. At the time, Little P was the assistant coach for TOP's main team. Once, he and the team visited their academy team KOF to do a review of one of KOF's games.

During their analysis, this kid who always had something to say came to his attention. "To be honest, his analysis of the game was correct, but whether the team should prioritize top lane or bot lane was a stylistic decision, not one with a right or wrong choice. They were not trying to solve a problem, but rather having a debate."

What Little P remembered most from that day was how 369 kept asking him, "P Bro, do you also think this is correct? Do you agree with this?" While he noticed his strong desire to win, Little P also felt that he "relied too much on what others thought of him."

A little while later, Little P was transferred from the main team to KOF, and thus became 369's in-game mentor. But the first to have noticed 369 was Guo Hao, the TOP manager who instigated this transfer.

In April 2018, even as the main team played against Snake in Chongqing, Guo Hao elected to go to the LDL student and watch KOF. Because some impressive plays caught his eye, this player who went by 369 came to his attention. "The impression he gave me was someone with meticulous mechanics, who had guts and didn't panic. Even when left with a sliver of health, he would still use his positioning to juke skills." At that time, Guo Hao thought - this kid might be it.

Back then, 369 had only just joined KOF. Born in 2001, he grew up in Henan with his grandmother and little sister. His family and childhood experiences made 369 more independent, yet also more vulnerable to social influences. In the third year of middle school, he found he couldn't keep up with his studies, so he wanted to go to a vocational school. He thought to himself, "This way, at least I'll have some skills to support myself with." Afterwards, he went into a four-year automobile repair program, which included a guaranteed job assignment after graduation.

Attending vocational school really just meant he was playing League of Legends in a new location; he "felt that [he] couldn't see any hope." If he had followed this path, perhaps in four years he really would've become an auto mechanic.

Once, another player added him as a friend and told him that if he changed his ID to a certain name and played every day, they would pay him 30RMB a day. 369 was delighted to hear that League of Legends could earn him money and pay for more of his netcafe fees. "I had always felt quite disappointed in myself growing up, but playing this game, I suddenly had a reason to feel proud." At that time, he was around Diamond on Ionia.

Before he joined KOF, 369 had been a part of two different academy teams. One was LGD; the other was VG. Both experiences ended with little gained. While he as at LGD, he felt that "the team's attitude was very negative at the time," and after losing to ME in Hero of Cities (t/n: qualification tournament for LDL), he "didn't want to play any more." As for the half year he spent at VG, he once again used the term "couldn't see any hope" to describe it.

Always unable to see hope, always choosing to leave, and always reluctantly returning - this summarized the beginning of 369's career. After leaving VG at the end of 2017, he suddenly realized that he had been on the road to becoming a professional player for a year and a half, yet he had nothing to show for it. He felt that in that time, he "hadn't worked hard enough, wasn't determined enough."

So when he joined KOF, he gave himself two objectives. The first was very difficult - in July, before his birthday, he would reach Challenger; the second was even more so - to make it to LPL. At the time, 369 had better teams to choose from, but KOF's then-manager told him, "As long as you have the strength, then you will have opportunities." In the end, he chose to remain with KOF.

When he joined the team in April, 369 was remarkably hard-working and self-disciplined. He would get up every day at eight or nine in the morning, and play until one or two the next day. "Every time I lost, I would start looking for my own mistakes instead of being stubborn." By June, 369 had successfully made his way to KR Challenger, accomplishing his first goal. After reaching Challenger, he didn't play at first for fear he'd drop back down, but under his coach's encouragement, he broke into the top 50.

As the 2018 LDL season began, 369 was in perfect form. Combined with good results in scrims, he was full of confidence.

On June 29, in their first match, KOF lost 0:2 to SHA. On July 1, KOF once again lost to ME. On July 14, even after adjusting their team, KOF once again lost 0:2 to VTG. What followed was only another string of losses. Only after a month had passed did KOF finally earn their first best-of-3 victory. In the fourteen games of the summer season, KOF only won three matches.

In their first loss, what left the greatest impression on their ADC Photic was how after they left the stage, 369 tore off his glasses and squatted on the ground, not saying a thing.

As the season progressed, the pain of losing grew greater and greater, and 369's solo queue rank dropped from Challenger back to Diamond I. Once again, 369 almost gave up. As the summer season grew to a close, 369 and Photic returned to the base after one of their games and went upstairs to their room. The lights were off, and in the abject darkness, 369 called out Photic's name and asked him what he should do. As Photic was momentarily stunned, he continued, saying that nothing would keep him going, and he wondered if he should just retire and do something else.

"Are you stupid? There must be something wrong with your head." That night, Photic sat 369 down and ruthlessly poured chicken soup into his soul.

In the end, the person who truly changed 369 was their manager, Guo Hao. On August 25, Guo Hao and the TOP team arrived ahead of time to prepare to face Snake in Chongqing. Before their match, the main team used the second floor of KOF's building to practice. Meanwhile, the academy team gathered on the first floor, and Guo Hao had a simple chat with them about their plans for the future.

Guo Hao's words were very direct. He said to the entire academy team, "If any of you want to play in LDL next season, if any of you just want this salary, or if any of you think you should receive a bonus just for doing well in LDL, then you are not suited to be a part of our team." Then, he pointed at the second floor, where the main team were practicing. "Your goal is to defeat them, to get them kicked. After defeating them, then defeat the people they couldn't defeat. If any of you don't have this goal, then talk to me. You can leave the team now."

As he said that, 369 was sitting in the spot closest to Guo Hao. When he finished, tears were already in 369's eyes. "Those words must've hit home with him. Guo Hao had said some things he had always believed, but never dared to say himself," Little P recollected about those events, which he was also present for. Seeing 369's strong reaction to his words, Guo Hao invited him out of the building to have a one-on-one chat. What left the strongest impression on Guo Hao was that the moment 369 left the building, he hit the ground and started to cry again.

"At the time, I asked him what was going on. He said that previously, everyone would always say, Bai Hao (t/n: short form of 369's name, Bai Jiahao), you play so well. Next season, you'll definitely be on the main team. They all thought he could make it, and he even had this hope. But throughout this entire split, he's performed exceptionally poorly, he hasn't been able to climb in soloq, he hasn't even been able to learn new champions. So he felt he already had no chance."

In that moment, Guo Hao saw this child in his most vulnerable moment. He thought to himself about how moments ago, this person had been in tears at his very words, and he felt like this attitude "couldn't be faked." So Guo Hao chose to say something to 369 which, in retrospect, he realized were quite extreme words.

"If in this academy team, even you cannot go to LPL, then no one can."

two. friends, partings.

In the middle of 2017, a Jiangxi youth who'd made it to Masters on Summoner's Rift received an invitation to try out at OMG's headquarters. His father, who worked far away in Zhejiang, was worried, so he accompanied his son to Shanghai. The first time he saw the way the esports club looked in real life, the youth thought, "So cool."

The two weeks of his tryout at OMG passed quickly. Apart from his regular ranked games, he played eight scrims, losing more than he won. On the final day, one of the staff members told him to return home and wait for further instructions. At the time, he didn't realize this was a polite way of rejecting him. After he went home, his father showed him a conversation with the team, where they suggested that perhaps he should finish high school first. That night, he lay on his bed sadly, thinking to himself - perhaps it was better to work hard and study instead of thinking about this.

In the end, he still didn't "come to his senses." In the following year, as his rank grew better and better, while studying he secretly prepared his resume behind his parents' backs and sent it to the various large esports organizations.

It was only in March 2018 that the boy finally got his chance - his resume came to the attention of team manager for KOF. His mother and grandmother were firmly against interrupting his studies, but in the end, they were convinced by his father. His father, who was still working in a distant location, told him over WeChat that since he had chosen this path, he must keep to it and not give up halfway.

At the end of March, this boy came from Jiangxi to Chongqing and thus, officially began his professional career. A few days after he arrived, a plump little guy showed up at the organization. His first impression of the newcomer was that he was "straightforward." Since he was a newcomer as well, he was a little shy, but the other boy was exceptionally enthusiastic and greeted everyone. Later on, the two of them would sit next to each other.

This youth was Photic, and this late-arriving little plump guy was 369. In the following days, the two would become each other's best friends.

from left to right - photic, guo hao, knight9, and 369.

"At school, friendship is commonplace, but for professional players who have entered society, it is far too precious. Some players only treat each other as colleagues, while others think of it as just playing together, so there's no way to really become friends." In Little P's eyes, the way Photic and 369's personalities complemented each other allowed them to become friends. "Professional play isn't just five people playing in a five-stack together; it's five brothers-in-arms living together. If under these circumstances, you cannot find a connection with people, then it must be very lonely."

Friendship between boys often begins with rivalry - comparing their scores, comparing their records, comparing even the time they woke up. Every time 369 made a particularly stellar play, he'd ask Photic, "Isn't that impressive?" Photic might agree, but he would always respond, "Anyone can do that as long as they have hands."

Of course, they were also companions. The summer of 2018, Chongqing was so hot that "even wearing t-shirts and shorts, it was still unbearable." Every day, after they finished their practice at 5:30PM, Photic and 369 would always go to the nearby store to buy cold refreshments. The trip wasn't particularly long, and so as they walked, they would talk about their games and their lives, and then with 3RMB ice creams hanging from their mouths, they would return to continue practicing. When they finished practicing at midnight, the two of them would walk back to their room together. Before they slept, they would chat a little more; as for what they talked about, it didn't even matter to them.

That season of the LDL, KOF didn't perform particularly well. For these newcomers to the professional scene, facing the stress of a losing streak, those 3RMB ice creams and their nighttime boasts became one of their few good memories.

On September 2, KOF finished their last match in Chongqing. Photic and 369's first LDL season clocked in at 3-11, second from last in their region. After the regular season, the organization gave the players some time off; the main team got two months while the academy team got one and a half.

Before their vacation, 369 asked Photic if he were going home. Photic said he would not - he wanted to use the break to practice a little more, play a little better. At the time, he had never been Challenger in KR solo queue, and he set that as his goal. When their vacation began, 369 returned to Henan, and Photic remained at the headquarters. "I felt that if I went back for these two months, then perhaps I might disappear entirely."

He didn't expect that a few days later, 369 would suddenly message him on WeChat and tell him that he was coming back. "At that time, I was really lost. After thinking hard at home for a few days, a few things suddenly became clear to me. I wanted to come back and do them immediately." After he rushed back to the gaming house overnight, 369 spent his vacation practicing with Photic. After waking up at noon, they would train into the early morning; they'd play a few other games and then sleep. The next day, they'd start it all over again. Since there was no housekeeper to cook for them, they ordered take-out every day.

Putting aside everything to focus on the game for a month was practically a formative experience for these two teenagers. During that time, Photic often snuck peeks at 369's rank, trying to judge what the other's skill was like in the end. "He would never peek at mine, because I didn't have as much LP as he did." After half a month, Photic was still a few hundred LP away from Challenger, while 369 had brought himself back from Diamond I to Challenger.

Since a few staff members were still working during the holiday, their coach Little P learned about what was going on. When the vacation ended and they were organizing the team, the manager Guo Hao received a message Little P sent him of 369's solo queue rank - 700LP Challenger. He looked at the attachment and replied to Little P: "How about we let him come up?"

In November 2018, 369 officially received a training invitation from the main team; he had finally accomplished the second goal he'd set when he joined KOF. The day he left, he woke up early to pack his bags, then boarded a plane from Chongqing to Shanghai. On the afternoon of that same day, Photic woke up and looked at the bunk below him. His friend's bed was still there, but the keyboard and mouse on the practice desk had vanished. In that moment, he truly knew that 369 had left.

A few days ago, 369 had told him that he would be going to the main team, but Photic had thought it a joke, that it was just a lie for himself. When he realized all of this was reality, he could not stop himself from crying in front of his good friend.

"I am very happy you can play there, but right now, I really cannot be happy."

three. pain, change.

For 369 to go the main team, Photic's inner thoughts were in turmoil.

On one hand, he felt forlorn and lonely; he missed having a friend to talk to every night before bed. On the other hand, when he saw 369's excellent performance in the 2018 NEST tournament, he felt that he "had to play better in order to meet with him again." According to coach Little P's observations, after 369 left, Photic became much more focused.

On the other side, after coming to Shanghai and becoming a part of the main team, 369 was now experiencing something completely different. When he first arrived at the gaming house, Guo Wei assigned 369 and midlaner Knight9 to the same room, hoping that 369 would pick up on Knight9's focus and determination to improve.

Soon after, the "placement test" arrived. When the team attended the end-of-year 2018 NEST and Demacia Cup, 369 suddenly discovered that the teammates surrounding him were much stronger than he'd had before. He practically "lay down and got carried," and without even knowing how, he put up a good scoreline.

A greater stage brought more fans and more attention, and 369 began to secretly use Weibo to upvote the comments saying he performed well. One thing led to another, and when Guo Hao found out about it, he practically laughed until he cried. Later, he and 369 talked, and the other said, a little embarrassed, "Hao Bro, I might be a little overconfident. If you see me being too proud of myself again, please tell me."

Since they were in contact with the main team, after 369 left, the academy coach Little P would often tell Photic, who was still at KOF, what was happening to his friend. In the 2019 spring season, Little P told Photic, "369 cries quite often there." Near playoffs, Little P told him, "Recently, 369 has gone mental boom."

"That kind of mental boom was the beginning of suffering," 369 reminisced. From before the spring playoffs, to playing IG there, to once again meeting IG in the summer split, to being benched at Rift Rivals, to finally being benched against LGD in the regular season - 369 traced such a path. "If I said that perhaps there were twenty things that caused me pain this year, then maybe seventeen of them were in this timeframe." Later, because he'd dwell on the mistakes he made because of his despondent mental state, he couldn't sleep at night; he'd go to bed at 2AM and perhaps only fall asleep at 4AM. "Useless." He used this kind of language to describe himself.

From when he officially joined the main team to after the spring season, 369 and manager Guo Hao had more time to talk. They often chatted whenever they had time, and once they got started, they could go on for a few hours. From his chats with 369, Guo Hao got the impression that this child was rather "lonely."

"This kind of 'loneliness' doesn't mean that others weren't treating him well, but rather that he - how to put it - that he didn't entirely consider himself part of the team." Guo Hao recalled that once when they were talking, he told him two lines from On Chao Cuo. (t/n: a mildly famous text by Song dynasty statesman Su Shi.) The first was, "From ancient times until now, all those who have accomplished great things had not only talent, but also an unbreakable will." The second was, "Those would would call themselves gentlemen, who seek extraordinary success, must not think too much of themselves." These two lines and their meanings were the principles Guo Hao wanted 369 to realize.

The academy coach Little P had similar thoughts. After getting to know him, he realized that when 369 made some decisions, he would sometimes unconsciously try to protect himself. "When he was in the LDL, there was a period of time when he dropped from Challenger to Diamond I. Then, he told me he didn't want to play, because he was afraid that he would show unfavorable results on stage."

From despondence to pain, and the ensuing decline of his condition - this all reflected in his scorelines. In the spring playoffs match against IG, 369 played two matches before being switched out. "It was as if the barrels had exploded."

At Rift Rivals, however, 369 faced one of LCK's best toplaners, Nuguri. He had the advantage in the laning phase but could not capitalize on it once teamfighting broke out. Nuguri was an opponent he had always wanted to surpass, but during the spring split, Guo Hao had used Nuguri as an example to bring up a question: if Nuguri were so good, then why was their other toplaner, Flame, given the chance to play and even win?

After playing DWG and finishing the day's matches, their head coach BSYY returned to the scrim room to decide who would play the next today. In that night's scrims, the toplane player was Moyu - and without scrims, there were no games to play.

To help the main team prepare for Rift Rivals, Little P was transferred from KOF to the frontlines in Seoul. The day 369 was benched, Little P sat with him and watched all the games. What he remembered most from that day was that once, 369 patted him on the shoulder, said "P Bro!" and then sighed deeply.

"Honestly, sometimes you can't blame the players. He made it this far by doing things this way, so if you want him to change right away, that's practically impossible. You have to slowly find that balance. I think through this process, he can replace some parts of himself that aren't so good, and thus become a more excellent person and learn what it means to truly be a team." Seeing how 369 sighed to himself, Little P didn't offer him too much comfort, but simply told him, "Don't worry. This experience will be very valuable. But next time, if there's another chance, you must take it."

After Rift Rivals, Little P went back to KOF to continue his work with the academy team, but he continued to observe 369's LPL games. In the following games in the summer split, when he saw 369 choose counterpicks and choose strategies that would not put undue stress on his teammates, he felt very pleased.

"People have to experience things to learn." 369 didn't regret what he went through to gain this experience. "Even if I don't regret what happened, it still feels like a pity. Because I didn't do well, we didn't go further. If I had played better, perhaps we had a chance to make it to the finals."

four. epilogue.

After the new year, TOP's academy team moved to Shanghai; they were now in the same district as the main team, only five minutes away. Starting from when they moved until now, 369 of the main team and Photic of the academy team have met seven or eight times. The two of them go out for dinner and watch movies; each time, it's always 369 who takes the initiative to invite Photic. "To players on the academy team, the main team is something almost sacred," coach Little P said.

Guo Hao still talks with 369 from time to time, but now he more often takes the role of listener. Since he was a little overly strict with 369 before and noticed he was starting to evade questions, Guo Hao chose to take a different approach and allow the other to speak more.

Back to 369 - the last time I saw him, he seemed very calm, especially when talking about those things he'd experienced this past year that he wasn't entirely satisfied with. "If you asked me how I felt a year ago, maybe I would've had a lot to say, but now, after going through so much, it almost seems like none of that has left a serious impression on him." To him, 2019 can best be described as 'full;' it's as if even before the wounds from the previous fight have healed or he had a chance to look back, he found himself thrust into yet another battlefield.

And so it goes for most professional players. As Little P put it, those are the "negative feedback loops that follow their entire career." "Some things never really leave you; they will always accompany you, but you must hope you will not be affected by them. So it all depends on if you have a way to face them, if you have a way to become friends with yourself."

Did 369 find that? Perhaps he did; perhaps he is still on the road to doing so. When asked how he sees the things he experienced, he said they were "very interesting." "It's like if you talk about something sad that happened to you during school now, you will feel like it's very interesting. That pain no longer seems as deep as it once was."

And when asked how he felt now, he made a motion like climbing a mountain. "I don't know. But I will always be climbing, and I will always be moving forward."