#plus romance eventually

[wrecking-man]

Starks;Gate Chapter 1 - Fullmetal & Alchemist

Click here to read on AO3.

One September day, on the second floor of the Brawn Workshop.

The Brawn Workshop was a traditional blacksmith shop in the Kingdom of Marvel, on the continent of Omorika... It specialized in, of all things, extremely heavy weapons and armor.

Armor several centimeters thick... Swords too big, too thick, too heavy, and too rough—you get the idea...

In contrast, the second floor was catered to anything but...

It was a sanctuary for intellectuals! The world’s greatest minds were gathered together there!

...Or so the man renting the place would like to believe.

It was known as the Future Artifact Laboratorium.

The air was hot and heavy in this makeshift lab in an apartment room, though the forge on the floor below had long been extinguished in anticipation of this meeting of the minds.

The atmosphere was tense as two young men sat hunched over a small, rectangular wooden table...

One was sitting on a cheap green sofa, clad in form-fitting red and gold armor... On the seat next to him was a plushie that vaguely resembled a panda with short, stubby legs.

The other was sitting on a metal folding chair on the opposing side, wearing a much more casual outfit... and on top of that, a white lab coat.

There were two clear glass bottles on the floor nearby, corked shut. One of them was empty, while the other was nearly so. Inside was once a carbonated beverage by the name of Doktor Pepper—or Dk Pepper for short.

The man in iron* delicately slid a card forward on the table with the tip of his forefinger, then overturned a small hourglass that had been sitting on the edge of the table.

“You seem nervous.”

It was a plain statement of fact. The gentleman before him was sweating bullets—uncontrollably so.

The younger man forced out a stifled laugh.

He had short black hair that he kept swept back. In a word, he was lanky... For the uninitiated, this man’s name was Okabe Rintaro.

That was his legal name... his birth name... but he would always insist upon Hououin Kyouma as his true name... In full disclosure, in his past life, it was.

“I must admit, Your Majesty, that your visit has me a touch perplexed,” Okabe responded. “It can’t be that you chose me at random to play a game of RaiNet against...”

He had wondered why Makise Kurisu, his girlfriend (provisional basis), returned earlier that day with so many snacks and drinks as if they were having a party today... Now he understood.

Questions still remained, however.

Had somebody sent a d-mail...?

Though the PhoneWave (name subject to change) had been disassembled for scrap, he could not at all discount that possibility... A message from the future would easily cause the sort of confusing circumstances he had been thrust headlong into.

D-mail... It was short for ‘Dorian mail’, which in turn was short for ‘the mail of Dorian Gray’.

Its name was a reference to the famous novel ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’, since no one could perceive the changes resulting from a d-mail—save for Okabe, of course, due to an ability of his he dubbed ‘Reading Steiner’.

...There was a catch, however.

That ability of his only triggered at the time d-mails were originally sent... and even then, given the overwhelming nature of Attractor Fields, sometimes the changes were too subtle for even him to notice.

Attractor Fields, in simple terms, are like bundles of timelines... Or world lines, rather.

Think of them as cables that have been zip-tied together for convenience, or like individual threads of a rope tightly wound together.

Though only one world line is active at any given time, and there are an infinite number of variations between them, all world lines within the same Attractor Field heavily influence one another and drive the active world line towards an event they all share in common—that is known as Convergence.

It was easy for Okabe to lose track of his life whenever world lines happened to shift... whether by his doing or otherwise.

His ability had gaps... Literally...

While he retained memories from previously-active world lines he had personally experienced, he gained none at all from the new ones on his arrival... As a result, it was possible he would forget this meeting ever took place.

‘When’ was anyone’s guess. It depended on when the d-mail was sent.

If one was even sent.

It was a useful, but often frustrating ability. In some sense, you could also call it a disability... It was like being gaslit by the universe itself, except the universe does not lie.

...He tried not to think about it.

Getting back to the game, Okabe moved one of his own cards on the table two squares over, sideways, leaving it two squares shy of the one Tony Stark had just moved... Two line-boosted cards facing off—a sacrificial play if ever there was one.

With haste, he flipped the hourglass back over, because time was not on his side in this battle of wits.

“You know, this game is remarkably similar to one back in my old world,” Tony said, dodging Okabe’s comment. “It was called Ghosts.”

Taking the mention of ‘ghosts’ as an indirect and subtle threat somehow, Okabe’s anxiety flared up even more... Unknowingly, he began clenching his teeth. It took everything in him to not have a panic attack right on the spot.

His mind could not help but conjure up scenarios wherein the king had become his mortal enemy, through no fault of his own.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Tony asked as he calmly made his next move, then flipped the hourglass over again.

Okabe stared at the grains of sand as they slowly fell. Was he being toyed with here? That surely had to be the case... He could feel a righteous anger swelling within his gut... Had he not already been put through enough?!

In his mind, Okabe had already shot up from his seat and thrown his metal folding chair back towards the wall in indignation.

He then flung Tony’s Super Limited Edition RaiNet AccessBattlers board off the table, off to their sides—cards and all—and demanded to know what the great King of Marvel, Iron Man, wanted from him... all while slamming his hands on the table—again, this was only in his mind...

In reality, he was far too timid of a man to do something like that. At least to someone of such high and noble status... Further dampening his hostilities was the fact that his opponent seemed all too prepared for physical conflict, casually sitting there on his sofa in fullmetal...

Alchemist and arcanist by trade, Okabe scarcely stood a chance against him if a fight were to break out between them... So if there was any possibility of appeasement, then that would no doubt be Okabe’s first choice. And if not, then running away was also an enticing option.

Okabe anxiously tapped his feet on the floor, trying to somehow ground himself back to reality. If only he were not alone in this time of tribulation, he could somehow puzzle out the answer to his quandary.

But he was alone—his adversary notwithstanding.

“How about time travel...?” Tony changed the question after receiving no answer, carefully gauging all of Okabe’s reactions. “With that, I think you must have some idea why I’m here...”

As its CEO, Tony was coming off the heels of a thorough purge of the research organization known as SORN (Society for Omorikans Researching Nature) after it had gone rogue, and had yet to discern whether the young man in front of him was friend or foe.

The leader of the Rounders, a man by the name of Tennouji Yugo—the man who happened to own this very building, as a matter of fact—had already vouched for Okabe during questioning, stating that he was ‘too damned honest for his own good.’

Tony had received similar testimony from another Rounder, one Kiryu Moeka, whom said that Okabe ‘is a little rude, and acts delusional sometimes, but he is a good person.’

The Rounders were an elite team of ruthless mercenaries under the employ of SORN, however. As such, they carried out all manner of tasks for them... up to and including assassinations, as Tony had found out first hand.

To his great fortune, Tony had been blessed by one of this world’s many gods to never forget anything. So on that ‘promised day where time intersected’, well...

Tony took SORN’s betrayal personally, as one might imagine. Dragons would be jealous of the fury wrought upon them on his revival in this new, Iota Attractor Field...

Considering the Rounders had already killed him once, Tony would be forgiven for having a suspicious mind regarding anything they had to say now.

In this moment, however, he could only see himself as the villain. Or, perhaps more accurately, he was a schoolyard bully... Okabe was seemingly on the verge of tears—his eyes were red, anyways...

Playing dumb here was never truly an option for Okabe. That had become painfully obvious.

He made his next move without really thinking it over. He was going to lose this game of RaiNet anyway... At this point, he simply did not want to see the sand in his half of the hourglass run out.

“Time travel is possible,” Okabe said gravely, “...but time must never be manipulated. Never.” He summoned up what little foolhardy courage he could and stared Tony down as he overturned the hourglass again.

His skin felt like it was on fire. He was no doubt the world’s greatest hypocrite for saying that... He knew full well he had no right to make such a declaration. Not after having desperately jumped from world line to world line countless times trying to find one in which both his girlfriend (provisional basis) and his hostage (childhood friend), Shiina Mayuri, remained alive...

But it was precisely because he knew the consequences of messing with the flow of time that he could say it.

Tony leaned into the sofa and rested his arms on its back, ignoring the fact that it was now his turn. He then crossed one leg flat over the other.

Okabe’s answer was not bad, in Tony’s view. It at least let Tony know that Okabe had little to no intention of abusing the power he so clearly held.

“Spoken like a man cursed with knowledge... and experience,” Tony said after some thought, “But are you sure about that? Only the Smiths deal in absolutes...”

Tony decided to defuse the situation. It had come to a low boil, which admittedly was his intention until now, but Okabe was not among the ranks of his enemies. That was the conclusion he’d just arrived at.

Okabe was speechless. Just what was this guy’s objective here? One minute he’s putting the screws to his head, and the next he’s offering an olive branch?

Not that he was complaining about the latter, mind you... but Okabe was so taken aback by the mood whiplash that he couldn’t hide the growing confusion on his face.

“A Spark Wars quote...? Really?” Okabe couldn’t help but point out the glaringly obvious.

“You a fan?” Tony asked while making his next RaiNet move. He did so without moving, and instead ‘used the force’... That is to say, he used telekinesis.

If there was one thing he loved about this world he was reincarnated into, it was that magic was far more accessible. He somewhat regretted never trying his hand at it back on Earth, because he probably could have given his ‘old friend’ Stephen a run for his money.

And what about Okabe?

Was he a fan?

As if Tony even needed to ask!

Okabe wanted to let out one of his unhinged, top-of-his-lungs laughs at the absurdity of it... If only he didn’t feel that his neck was still on the line, he might well have done.

...Because he fucking loved Spark Wars!

He closed his eyes and extended his arm out to the side, then flexed open his hand.

Something mounted up on the far wall by the window lightly vibrated until it finally came loose from its display rack. It then promptly shot into Okabe’s waiting hand in a fraction of a second, reminding Tony of another old friend of his.

Okabe snapped open his eyes, and with dramatic flare, he held the item aloft in front of him to reveal it to his waiting audience.

It was one of Okabe’s most prized possessions, as it had been integral in paving the way to Steins Gate.

Future Artifact No.6: Cyalume Saber!

It had five major components:

A standard reinforced glass tube, about 30cm long.

A solution of cyalume—in other words, a ‘potion of illumination’. (Do not drink!)

A sturdy-enough cylindrical hilt, fashioned from aluminum.

An interspatial storage ring at the tip.

Fake blood concealed within said storage ring to make mock battles more realistic!

It was the perfect prop to reenact all your favorite scenes from Spark Wars!

“Does this answer your question?” Okabe asked seriously, without breaking eye contact—and without so much as a hint of shame.

Under pressure, but adapting to this new development, Okabe quickly concocted a new plan.

It was a simple plan, really.

Simply put, he would humbly seize upon the lifeline Tony had graciously offered him... He would call this ‘Operation A New Hope’!

“...Oh, it’s my turn,” Okabe quickly mumbled to himself before hunching over and taking his turn.

Tony couldn’t help but smirk to himself behind his helmet, and exhale through his nose in amusement. He could see now what the two Rounders had meant.

“You got two...?”

...

Somewhat startled by the question, Okabe’s heart fluttered and chills shot down his spine. His eyes went wide as he slowly sat back upright, and he took a moment to fully process the question.

...He was touched by its implications.

If he had two... If only he had two... The two of them could, in theory, have had a Spark Wars duel... right then and there!

Argh...! That genuinely sounded like so much fun! Okabe found himself gritting his teeth again, just for a different reason this time...

Of course, the singular nature of the relic in his hand was not the only obstacle preventing such merriment from taking place.

There was one other crucial detail that could not be overlooked... The one he did have had immense sentimental value, and thus he could never risk breaking it...

He mentally kicked himself for never producing more. Doubly so given it could have appeased his overlord.

Okabe looked down in disappointment, and shook his head. “Alas, I have but one...”

“Shame,” Tony responded. It was a fun thought. “...So. Favorite character?”

“...Duke Skywalker,” Okabe answered. Unequivocally. He crossed his arms, because apparently the RaiNet game was over.

Tony nodded. He hunched forward slightly, and clasped his hands over his leg. “I’m more of a Hanz Ollo guy, but I respect it.”

“...Who shot first?” (With a crossbow.)

“Hanz,” Tony answered as if by reflex, like he knew the question was coming, “...You know, we had Spark Wars back on Earth as well. Except a number of key details are different.”

Okabe sat more at attention, though ironically enough, he also found himself more relaxed. “Such as?” he asked while stroking his chin.

“We called it Star Wars... And it took place in space. With aliens.”

“You’re kidding...”

“I’m serious,” Tony assured him, “And Darth Spider was called Darth Vader.” The bottom half of Darth Spider’s helmet had an eerie resemblance to Spider-Man’s mask... It hit him rather close to home when that particular character died...

Tony finally decided to finish his drink, so he reached down and grabbed it. “Oh, and see this...?” he held up his bottle to show Okabe the label. “It’s still Doktor Pepper where I’m from, but with a ‘c’ instead of a ‘k’, and it’s shortened to ‘Dr’, not ‘Dk’.”

As an exercise in futility, he tried to ignore that the beverage had his ex-wife’s nickname in its name by pure coincidence... Predictably, he failed.

He sighed through his nose, and drank it down.

“Intriguing,” Okabe responded, as if he had learned some closely-guarded secret of the multiverse.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I could do this all day,” Tony said. After all, there were seemingly infinite subtle differences between their universes that he could list off... And some that were not-so-subtle. “...but getting back to the topic at hand—”

Okabe’s stomach tightened, and he fought the urge to curse, even under his breath... For a brief moment he had thought he was in the clear after their conversation strayed into safer territory... but he quickly realized just how premature of a judgment that was after Tony went right back to it.

A fresh bead of sweat dripped from his forehead down the left side of his face. It held steady at the bottom of his chin for a few seconds, and then finally landed on one of the folds of his lab coat.

Of course he wouldn’t be let off so easily... Not when the secrets of time travel were at stake!

He tried to keep his breathing steady. He had to remain calm...

Was it getting even hotter? Was it just his imagination? How was his adversary not sweating his ass off in that thick suit of armor...?

Were it not for their chronic lack of funds, Okabe would have offered from the start to activate another of his lab’s ‘Future Artifacts’ to cool the room... but now was hardly the time to think about that... Besides, he would have to go digging for another mana crystal to replace the last one that had been fully drained, and he didn’t know how many they had left in the appropriate size—if they still had any left at all.

Tony nearly broke into a laugh.

Okabe really was too honest for his own good. He truly wore his heart on his sleeve.

Aside from the very noticeable souring of his expression, Okabe had also tightened his hands into fists. If he were to squeeze any tighter, the hilt of his mana saber toy would buckle and break.

“You’re too tense,” Tony said, “It’s bad for your health.”

“...How bad?” Okabe asked... tensely... As if he didn’t already know that. He figured he must have forgotten to take his anxiety medication again, though even if he had taken it, that would have only improved this situation so much.

“Look. Rintaro...” Tony started off, which made Okabe cringe, “We all want our happy ending... It may not always work out that way—prime example being me—but despite what you might be thinking right now, I’m not out here to ruin your life... I thought you would have realized that by now.”

Tony sat back and folded his arms. If he wanted to, he could have killed Okabe in over seven hundred ways—and that's just with his bare hands... But that wasn’t why he was there. That much should have been obvious, he thought.

Okabe groaned under his breath in a mixture of annoyance and relief as he thought about how to respond to that... After the fact, he prayed that his liege did not notice—or at least that he did not care. He didn’t mean to do it! It was purely a knee-jerk reaction!

“...What?” Tony asked in defense of himself, because from his perspective he had done nothing wrong... At least not within the last couple of minutes.

It was common practice in most places in Omorika for people to refer to one another by their given names... but to be frank, Okabe loathed the name Rintaro, and so he could never get used to that custom...

No... In truth, he refused to get used to it.

The name was too ‘old-fashioned’... To him, the name even sounded downright stupid—though his vague memories of Ancient Chuunibya may have been more responsible for that... Hououin Kyouma was much more fitting a name for someone of his high stature any day of the week.

Okabe was vexed. Even if he were to tell Tony about his past life, Tony would most likely not believe him. He might even think it was a joke...

Neither of those outcomes appealed to him. As such, asking to be called Hououin Kyouma was simply out of the question.

And as for why he didn’t want to be called Rintaro... He would prefer not to get into it. It would be too tedious to explain, not to mention humiliating for him.

“It’s... It’s nothing...” Okabe said, defeated. He buried his frustration to the best of his ability. In the first place, this wasn’t the first time he had tolerated an authority figure calling him Rintaro.

He told himself to just suck it up, because in the end, it didn’t even matter. Not as long as he could get out of this in one piece.

...It had never even occurred to him to simply suggest his family name.

“No, I get you. Tell me. What is it you prefer?” Tony asked in a moment of clarity.

It didn’t take him very long to figure out Okabe’s most likely grievance when calling Okabe by his name. What else would it be?

While this world had no Japan, there was a large segment of the population that shared a striking number of similarities with its culture. Mainly in the Kingdom of Itan, as well as its surrounding regions—there were even some within his own kingdom that followed such customs... In this very city, as a matter of fact.

Tony really should have known... Even setting aside Okabe’s clearly Japanese features, with a name like Okabe Rintaro there was never any room for doubt anyways—he was Itanese, without question.

“Okabe-san? Okabe-kun?” Tony spoke again, without really giving Okabe much of a chance to speak for himself.

As a prolific businessman (and king), between his previous life and his current one, he had a lot of experience in this field. Using honorifics always felt a bit out of place for him, but appeasing his potential business partners always took priority... Well, second priority—after profit.

...

Okay, so it was his third priority... But you get the point!

“J-just Okabe is fine...”

Somehow, things had become even more awkward for Okabe after hearing Tony use Itanese honorifics. It was unexpected, to say the least...

“Noted.”

Okabe sighed... After getting a better idea of Tony’s character, he wanted to help him. Really. He did... but... “I’m sorry, Your Majesty-”

“Tony.”

“I’m sorry, Tony...” Okabe mended, “I wish I could help you change your past... but I refuse. I will not go down that road again...”

Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at Okabe in a back and forth motion. “So that’s it,” he said as the main cause of their disconnect dawned on him, “We’re not even on the same page here.”

“...Huh?”

“Dude, I solved time travel years ago,” Tony revealed casually, “The second time was an accident... So relax. That’s not even what I’m here for.”

“It’s... It’s not...?” Okabe asked, half-croaking the words out.

“Yeah. If anything, you’d better not go changing the past,” Tony said, “You’ll make me relive it... You do that, and we’re gonna have a real big problem...”

“O-oh...” Okabe said, “Sorry. I-I just assumed...” His confusion was palpable.

“I’ve got an idea though,” Tony said while slowly getting up from his seat. He started walking around the somewhat cluttered lounge area of the apartment to get a good look at the state of Okabe’s ‘lab’... “Tell me what you think about this.”

“...Go on?” Okabe said while worriedly following Tony around with his eyes.

He felt incredibly exposed as Tony strutted about like he owned the place... especially since Tony was now pushing into his friend Daru’s domain...

Although it greatly concerned him what sort of... things... Tony might find in Daru’s habitat, at least with his life seemingly no longer under threat he could feel himself starting to relax again... In fact, his body was beginning to go limp in his chair as most of his tension evaporated away.

While he was now more at ease, this exchange was still giving Okabe a headache... His concept of reality had just been shattered around him with that last revelation, and he was struggling to put the pieces back together... Very much like Tony to drop a bomb and then walk away like it was nothing...

Okabe’s confusion was more than justified. Until now, almost all knowledge of time travel had been tied in some way to the genius that was his girlfriend (provisional basis).

On top of that, the other thing Tony just said also caught his attention... He said it so casually that Okabe almost glossed over it.

He would make Tony ‘relive the past’ if he changed it...? Did Tony also have a high degree of Reading Steiner?

But that couldn’t be it... The way Tony described it was way off... It sounded more like the result of a time leap, if anything.

“I see you’re a bit of an arcanist,” Tony said as he picked up a pink ceramic band that was sitting on Daru’s small metal desk. It vaguely resembled a wrist watch...

As his suit scanned and analyzed it, Tony started to smile again.

On the same desk, there was also something called a ‘communer’, among other... things...

Tony almost pointed out they had a far more advanced, technological equivalent on Earth called a ‘computer’, but they were already past that topic so he didn’t bother... because now... Now they were going to talk business.

“Y-yes...?” Okabe answered.

“Looks to me like all you need is funding,” Tony said as he placed the artifact back down on the desk, and turned around to face Okabe again.

He saw potential in Okabe...

Who’s to say how far he could take this little operation of his if he just had an extra push?

“Funding...” Okabe said in an uncertain tone.

“Yeah,” Tony said, “Let’s talk shop... I'm guessing this is where the magic happens?"

He sauntered over to a set of closed, off-white curtains as wide as the room and stepped through where they connected in the middle.

Okabe nervously got up from his seat and followed him, making sure to maintain a respectful one meter of space between them after catching up to him.

"Ah, y-yes... That is correct," he said, then cleared his throat. "However, as you duly noted, we are not very liquid right now."

"...I'm sorry. Is that a mahowave?" Tony asked while pointing to the magical artifact that looked very much like... you guessed it... a microwave. It was sitting atop a wide metal desk, right next to another communer of a different make.

"A man's gotta eat," Okabe dared to joke. "It is perhaps the world's greatest cooking-related artifact."

"Right..." Tony said with a smirk, "Clearly you don't own an air fryer."

“Sir,” called a voice from within his suit, “Look out the window...” The voice was feminine, but sounded somewhat artificial.

“Hold that thought,” Tony said to Okabe as he made his way over to the set of large windows back in the main room. They were the type that slid open sideways... “Got something for me, Sage?”

“You should see them now,” Sage responded as 'she' highlighted, on his heads-up display, a horse-drawn carriage that had just rounded a corner. She had been tasked with keeping an eye out for any potential threats in the area. “My scans indicate five individuals... Four men, one woman.”

Okabe also made for the window to see what the commotion was, but unlike Tony who was standing at the far right side and only peeking out, Okabe stood right in front of it in full view.

Tony briefly glanced at him and considered criticizing him for doing so, but it was too late to cry about it so he didn’t bother... “These guys yours?” he asked as three men got out of the carriage. They, as well as the coachman, started running towards the Brawn Workshop.

The men were all dressed head to toe in 'black olive'-green armor made out of the highly durable silk of the makumo—a powerful species of demonic spider native to the Demon Continent of Mellon. They were also wearing helmets of the same color to conceal their identities as if they were nothing more than second rate villains in some kind of movie or manavision series.

“I can hardly pay rent. Do you think I can afford guys?!” Okabe asked pointedly as his attention shifted to the door.

This was supposed to be over, he thought, but the more things change, the more they seemed to stay the same...

His eyes darted around the room as he searched for ideas. He was not content to be raided helplessly yet again. Especially since this time he did not have the benefit of the PhoneWave (name subject to change)—let alone its extension, the Time Leap Circlet...

There would be no redo. No time reset... He either had to take a stand here, or possibly die like a dog while on the run.

He couldn’t even couch his bets on Convergence to save his hide anymore. That was only in the Alpha and Beta Attractor Fields...

With Tony there, he at least stood a fighting chance, however... Or so he hoped.

He looked at the relic still in his hand, and shook his head in frustration before clumsily placing the Cyalume Saber back on its display rack.

“You good with steam blocking your view?” Okabe asked quickly and quietly as he ran back towards the development room.

“Go. Show me what you got,” Tony said as he prepared for the door to fly open any second.

Okabe cursed under his breath as he urgently dug through a pile of Future Artifacts until— “Aha...!” Found it! Future Artifact No.4: Moad Snake!

It resembled a claymore mine from Earth, though strangely enough there was no such equivalent in Taazokaan... Its design had been carefully devised by Okabe after receiving inspiration from a popular in-universe novel called Metal Moa Solid: Rising—the author of which was from Earth... just a different one than Tony’s.

With haste, Okabe pulled its pin and slid it face up into the main room just as the entrance was kicked in.

Not even a full two seconds after removing the magical device’s seal, there was an explosion of catastrophe...! Extra thick steam sprayed forth in every direction in an instant, blocking the intruders’ visions in full!

“Huh,” Tony said to himself as his suit also received a free rinse.

His vision was somewhat dampened by the steam as well, but his suit had automatically switched to its thermal imaging mode.

He found it to be a bit jarring, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He was in a far better state than the men complaining about it in front of him, in any case. He could at least see them to varying degrees... Literally... You know, because of their body heat...

Rather than risk blowing the steam away with some of his fancier parlor tricks, he ran into the thick of them to engage in hand to hand combat.

To their credit, these intruders were of an especially sturdy sort, and hardly took any damage at all from Tony’s assorted magic-augmented melee attacks.

That was, of course, mainly due to the fact that he was holding back... a lot... He had no intention of making donuts today. Just think of the mess...!

He needed only to subdue them, anyways, not kill them... Dead men tell no tales and all that.

...

Okabe, meanwhile... understood his limitations...

As he concealed himself in the development room behind the wide metal desk, and amongst shelves of miscellaneous books and other items, he deeply inhaled as large and deep of a breath as he could under the circumstances to prepare a spell he referred to as his ‘Stealth Field’.

It was a spell of his own creation that required crouching low to the ground... It helped to remain as still as possible, though movement was permitted to a degree.

It made him nigh impossible to notice, though it did not operate via the reflection of light a la some kind of invisibility barrier. Nor did it induce some other method of optical camouflage... It was merely a spell that made him... ‘somebody else’s problem’.

The intruders would simply overlook him... because he was no longer their problem, but rather somebody else’s...

The idea came to him after having read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Gal City.

He was 'safe' like this... He felt guilty, though. Not to mention cowardly.

Squatting on the floor in relative safety while Tony was left to fend for himself left a bitter taste in his mouth... But he was a lover, not a fighter, damn it... Surely, Tony understood...

He had every confidence in Tony’s combat prowess... If anything, he would be in Tony’s way... right?

He shut his eyes tight to maintain his Stealth Field, and felt his entire body growing tense again. Proper visualization was the key.

...

The stream of steam lasted for half a minute at best. It was far more short-lived than Tony had anticipated... Not that he was really banking on it in the first place.

He had only knocked out two of the large men at this point. Their strength and endurance-based builds made them even more durable than they appeared at a glance.

The third man was a bit different...

He seemed to anticipate each of Tony’s swings, and even a surprise kick after feinting with a right hook. It was some sort of sixth sense, Tony figured... The man kept shifting his body out of harm’s way with minimal wasted movement.

The fourth intruder, meanwhile, had been waiting out the steam in the narrow stairway leading up to the room.

“Sir...!” Sage called out urgently, just as a giant hole was torn out of the development room’s front wall.

Tony couldn’t tell what happened, exactly. But whatever it was, it shook the entire building.

He immediately turned to the development room in worry... Had he known something like this was going to happen, he wouldn’t have gone so easy on the mooks that came through the door like civilized criminals, and would have instead prioritized Okabe's safety, one way or another...

No longer having the privilege of taking his time, Tony shot ice magic out through the palms of his armored hands. He started at the third guy’s feet, then quickly worked his way up until the man’s entire body was encased in several centimeters of ice.

He exhaled sharply and watched as the fourth man shook his head no and ran back down the stairs.

Tony then ran towards the development room without wasting another second, and as soon as he saw her, he shot a linear blast of concentrated light magic (a laser beam) at the woman whom he hadn’t even considered an active threat until now.

She was dressed head to toe in a black leather outfit, and wore a thick black metal helmet to top it off. Not a single millimeter of her skin nor hair was exposed.

She blocked the light magic attack (laser beam) as easily as she breathed by waving her hand in front of her to erect a powerful barrier.

It would normally be invisible to the naked eye, though Tony could still see it thanks to one of the numerous enchantments inscribed on the inside of his helmet.

The barrier took the shape of a stone brick wall, though it was still largely transparent. Only the outlines of the edges and cracks could be seen.

Seeing it meant nothing, however, since Tony couldn’t exactly penetrate it.

Tony looked around the room for Okabe, and quickly noticed that he was unconscious at the woman’s feet, behind the desk.

He breathed, somewhat relieved... At the very least, he could tell that Okabe was still alive.

“Come with me if you want to live,” the woman demanded.

“Uhhh. Not today, Terminator,” Tony declared sarcastically. “Sage. Give me an hour, would you?”

Click here to read on AO3.

[ask2ps]

Who's 2p Italy's type in partners?

NORTH ITALY: Grazie lo stesso! [ Thanks, regardless! ] NORTH ITALY: And before you ask, no, I had nothing to do with my boss' death. I still dunno what happened there! I was only gone for a few months..

[candywife333]

F*** The Pyramid

PART 1

Genre : Historical

PAIRING : yandere-ish Duke Jungkook x spinster social pariah chubby y/n

Inspired loosely by the Pyramid Games (kdrama which you guys should totally check out) and a novel called ,"The Captain's Wallflower"

Warning: This fic has minimal to no proofreading and the usual blend of outlandish comedy , crude jokes with expletives, smut, and angst (because I can't do without it). This is purely fiction and not a representation of the real Jungkook's true character or that of any other member of BTS.

Currently a trilogy ( thinking of making it a series with all other characters of BTS)

Summary: Duke Jung kook remained the quintessential peer of the realm, born with a platinum spoon in his mouth from the day he arrived into the world. He grew up playing a massive role in determining the structure of the social hierarchy----who gets to be the diamond of the water, the most eligible bachelor (other than himself of course), and.....who gets to be at the bottom of the pyramid ;the very dregs of society, the spinsters and ruined women who would never have a chance at a better life.

His bevy of associates all wealthy and powerful comprised of ; Marquess Taehyung, Baron Jimin, Viscount Yoongi, Viscount Hoseok, and Duke Namjoon (close advisor of the king)--formed the Pantheon (a group of wealthy and powerful men that ruled England). He lived the ideal life, the envy of all others..... or so he had thought. Till he met, Spinster Y/N--- the illegitimate daughter of Baron Stanton. They say, if she looks like a spinster, smells like a spinster (of lavender and epsom salt) , and tastes like a spinster ( though who would ever choose to taste one?) ----then she must be one. But something about Y/N was peculiar. She definitely seemed to be a spinster in name and mannerism. But was she truly one? And what was she hiding?

Cameos: Hwasa (my queen), Chungha, and many others

Part 2

I yawned again. And again. And again. Munched on a croissant. And then proceeded to...yawn again. So boring. I would never deign to come down to London for a Season ever again. That was the only modicum of comfort I was looking forward to. Never showing up here again. The scene would never change, so what was the point? Aunt Alyssa, my mother's older sister, had insisted that I accompany Solji to her debutante season----where she would be introduced to all the other pompous, rich, uninteresting, vapid members of the ton. So she could find an uninteresting, rich husband to marry who would inevitably cheat on her with a mistress and she could pretend to be happy and have his ugly nonsensical big headed babies pushed out of her vagina and die....eventually. I know, my view of the ton and life amongst them is anything other than comforting. Yet after watching so many seasons go by, sitting on my bench (I called it my PERCH) like a cockatoo at the rotten old age of 26, my views were firmly engraved into stone. Nobody could convince me otherwise.

The entire point of the ton's existence was enforcing social hierarchy. There was no other point. True friendships are meager and rare, sanctity of marriage has no meaning ( with affairs flourishing abundantly in dark corners of Vauxhall ) , and love is nonexistent. Love, a concept I had pondered for ages as I watched naive gullible debutantes waltz around with their chosen well-to-do suitors. Suitors that proclaimed sonnets of love initially, yet inevitably lost interest in their gullible little guppy fish wives and relegated those same foolish wives to country estates never to be seen again, so they could priggishly jaunt across London with mistresses on their arms---to operas and **gasp*** decorated bedrooms. Showering attention on mistresses and maids and any other women of relatively low standing --- to suck at their grotesque, syphilitic cucumbers.

Abhorrent. Men never made sense to me, and I was convinced that love was a construct they came up with, to fool women to do their bidding. I mean, at this point, having seen what I have seen, I wonder if they even believe in the hoax called love themselves. My concern after sitting here on my perch for the last 7 seasons since I had come out, is that not once had I been asked to dance. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, I guess it made sense? Chubby , wearing spectacles, and unappealing dresses with colors and designs of years gone by, definitely would not make me the toast of the season by any chance.

Yet, even when I had been a bit more fashionable, and when father had been alive and still holding the position of Baron--I would've expected few offers of marriage by fortune hunters merely seeking my dowry. But alas... that was not be. One girl, that debuted the same year as I did, daughter of Duke Asbury, Lady Seulgi had tripped on her feet while dancing the waltz, into the arms of Baron Jimin , bowling both of them over to the cold marble floors of the ballroom rather unceremoniously. She had bemoaned to the rest of the debuting girls (including little old me) that day, languishing on a chaise as she gesticulated nervously, " I am a miserable dancer. How will I ever survive this wretched Season"?

I had quietly tried to suppress my giggles at her ridiculous tirade. What could she even mean? She was proclaimed the diamond of the first water instantaneously after being presented at court that Season 7 years ago, earning the attentions of all the members of the Pantheon and many other wealthy peers of the realm. Her life was easy. All she had to do was do nothing. Yes, I said it. Merely, NOTHING. Her fate was decided from her birth. Not like the rest of us, who were not conventionally attractive and now.......financially destitute. She had earned the good grace of everyone from birth due to her wealth and strong connections. Even if she had farted, everyone would have applauded her flatulence.

These were the women I didn't understand. The ones who had everything, yet bemoaned their lot in life----frivolous ninnies in my opinion. All the women of the higher echelons of society remained there --marrying similarly wealthy lords and preserving their lineage and wealth. You may ask---is there no social mobility? And I would say, of course bloody not---you simpering little sot. What did this look like? A fairy tale? Cinderella? Princes of good moral standing don't exist. Rich men have options. And they always avail them. Why would a rich man marry a poor woman? Lust. That would be the only real answer.

I know I sounded jaded, and I definitely was. You can only be a trampled on flowerbed for so long, till you start festering and molding with bitterness. I do not profess to be better than anyone else. At times over the years I had wished to feel beautiful, marry a good match, and have a family. But that destiny clearly was not in store for me. The complicated reasoning being that I simply was not conventionally attractive and did not inspire lust in men, and that my father's rather paltry dowry did not inspire even mere greed in men . I am socially inept and quiet by nature. These were all valid reasons.

But, the simple reason I chose to believe---is that one man merely found no utility in me. Who you may ask? Duke Jungkook I would say, without even flinching or stuttering. Others thought "society at large" did not care for them, hence they were mowed over to the corner to become rotten spinsters and outcasts. You know who society was? Duke Jungkook and the members of his Pantheon. But he was still the mastermind. Slickly manipulative, handsome, and wealthy.

He was born sitting on a golden throne, and over the years proved that he was an intellectual. Silently accruing further wealth for his estate through trade and industry---something the Ton usually looked down upon. But since it was Duke Jungkook, it was permissible. Everything was in his case. He was the exception to every rule. If his character description stopped at this, we would have all been fine. But one thing Duke Jungkook seemed to crave is control. He was hyper competitive because he lusted after control---and it's close comrade, power. Power over even the pitiful members of society, he had no business trying to control. He played God for years, and always got away with it.

How do I know he's the one running the show you ask? Well, I had time to observe. And I would say, that is my only true talent. I notice things others don't because I am invisible. A mousy little mite relegated to my pitiful perch. And I noticed everything, from his wagers which either demoted or elevated people's social standings---to the way he manipulated people with misinformation and rumors. He decided who was popular. And he decided who wasn't. And if anyone was to blame for my social standing, I would say it was him. What he had done 7 years ago had reduced me to my position now. It wasn't even anything all that dramatic. He cut me down without even a fight.

I remember it as clear as if it were yesterday, even now.....

"I am so sorry, Lord Jungkook, I wasn't watching my step, please forgive me", I had stuttered in an overly fuchsia dress akin to a little sausage as I sweat incessantly in the stuffy ballroom. Hadn't meant to spill a chalice of lemonade on his coat.

His dark eyes gleamed with amusement and something that I identified as calculation later on in my life , as he brushed it off with a wave of his hand, "Tis' of no import, Lady Y/N. Don't worry". I nodded and curtsied towards him, "Thank you for overlooking my clumsiness, Lord Jungkook. I am sorry to disturb your evening".

I had thought he had truly forgiven me. It wouldn't ruin his reputation, our encounter. It was the mistake of a newly debuted girl, more akin to a child than a woman.

I had believed in the kindness of men and humanity till then. Till he chuckled and slyly condescended in a rather loud and cloyingly sweet tone of voice, "Of course, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. At least you are not as clumsy as your mother in concealing her relations or as clumsy as your father in the way of estate management". He sauntered away lazily as he left me to deal with the fall, whistling a merry tone juxtaposing the social demise he had just inflicted upon an innocently naive girl.

Casually cruel in the name of being honest. Everyone in the ballroom had heard, their eyes and ears peeled towards any interaction involving him as they do generally, as moths do towards a flame. Only Lord Jungkook would know my dad's poor financial status even as a Baron, or about my mother's affairs which had wrung him dry emotionally. Father had resorted to ruining our meager wealth by letting the estate go to spoil. He soon after died of heartbreak at my mother's affairs a year after this horrendous moment.

He had borrowed a massive amount of money from Duke Jungkook, money he would never be able to repay. When he died, the Baron's estate and debt was inherited by cousin, leaving me and my two older sisters with nothing. Thankfully, my sisters were already married off to decent, financially stable men---though they were mere vicars. Not men with titles, but reliable nevertheless. And I was left an orphan. Looked down upon and pitied by my beautifully polished sisters, and members of society as I was unmarried and ineligible according to my looks and lack of dowry--and Duke Jungkook's honorable estimation of my worth (or lack thereof).

Duke Jungkook had ruined my life long before dad had died, and the mere sight of him would remind me of my downfall to this day.

I hated the man to his day, teeth gritting unconsciously. If I ever came across the man in need, I wouldn't hesitate to ruin him. As he had ruined me. He had opened up to the mockery and disdain of the ton. I didn't get invitations to most balls and events by then. The only few I did get invited to were due to my Aunt Alyssa, or shall I say Viscountess Alyssa. I was unmarriageable nevertheless. And I had only stuck around to earn some money by being companion and chaperone for Solji.

The plan was to leave this horrendous place of twinkling lights and crushed dreams for a family--for a baby (a dream I had cherished in my heart of hearts for quite some time). I just wanted to be left alone now. Away from Duke Jungkook's paralyzing serpentine glances that decried me of my humanity and value, and the snickers from other wealthy men at my nunnish appearance. I would go live in a 3 bedroom cottage on the countryside, the only thing that had been entailed to my name in father's will which had not been of any value to debt collectors.

It was a beautiful cottage, tucked away near the edge of a meadow in a quaint little town called Chestershire. We had family vacations in my childhood there. It just required some repair and warm touches, to become a lovely house. I had earned money as companion to Aunt Alyssa so that I could retire there without worrying about money for at least the next 2 years. I would probably start selling garments I had knitted and sewed over the years as well, once those funds ran out.

Just thinking about the cottage and the quiet life awaiting me, filled with baby chicks and piglets and a warm hearth devoid of judging glares filled me with happiness....something I had not been acquainted with for a long time, as a soft smile brightened up my face .

Couldn't wait to leave the bloody pyramid. Every dog has its day. And mine would arrive tomorrow.

Only , if I had known that destiny always knows how to kick a girl in the arse, just when she believes the worst is over.

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

I arrived around the evening of the next day after a garrulous carriage ride had tossed me up like a well done egg salad 30 times. The travel was terrible and yet the journey was definitely worth it. Meadows filled with various flowers and fruits stretched up and over sprawling green hills in the weak light of the setting sun , all cresting into a peak at the top of the hill---my home, my cottage. It was just as I remembered it, a homely cottage wrapped around by rose bushes and creeping stalks of bouginvillea and tulips.

The main village center was just a 3 minute walk away, but felt much further away from everyone else, with the way it was situated upon a tiny hill surrounded by an expanse of trees giving plenty of shade to the cottage. I paid the coach man and walked up the hill, sweating and dusty from the ride. As I came up to the door, I could smell the fragrance of a hearty stew wafting out of the window.

Who was in there already?I knocked on the door and was met with a swinging door that gave view to an overgrown golden retriever jostling me to the grassy ground with enthusiastic licks. A buxom lady with sparkling green eyes, and thick brown hair in two plaits exclaimed happily, "Oh, darling Y/N, tis' been a long while since I saw you. Must've been when we were kids, still digging worms from the pond and making little houses for them".

I remembered who it was. Sunny, my old maid's daughter-- who I had played with in my childhood. I patted the dog on its head as I got up, brushing grass from my skirts, enveloping her in a rambunctious hug with a wide grin, "So good to see you sweetheart!!!! Where is your mother? Is she in good health?"

"Oh, she's fine Y/N, just back at home because of her rheumy joints. She finds it hard to keep up with maintaining the cottage, so I am doing the job as of now." I smiled warmly, my insides singing with joy at the jubilant welcome back home. I truly felt at home for once.

Chestershire still remained the quiet town I remembered it to be, idyllic and pasotral. It was a wonderful change of pace--fresh air and sprawling greenery so much the eye could not contain. She grabbed me by the shoulders and hustled me into the clean , well maintained cottage. It was a beautiful interior with leviathan bay windows and plenty of comfortable seating space. I inhaled the hearty potato stew into my mouth, discussing my plans with Sunny on how to make the cottage even more homely and regarding repairs to be done.

Apparently a tiny sum of money was provided by father's will to go for maintenance annually to the cottage. That is why the place hadn't fallen into complete disrepair. It just needed a few homely touches, some floral printed curtains and doilies and warm rugs and blankets. Along with some vases that could contain flowers which shrouded the cottage window-sills.

I had my work cut out for me for the next week. But this work was more welcome than anything else I had had to deal with uptil now.

--------------------BACK IN LONDON

Lord Jungkook was pondering something of the utmost importance at the moment as his valet stared at him, eyes agog with concern. The cravat he was to wear today to Lady Esterly's ball held much salience. It had to be something somber to indicate respect towards the end of her grieving period, yet not so outrageously dark in color that it would be utterly unfashionable. She had lost her gouty ill tempered 70 year old husband few months ago to sickness. And though she was clearly happy to lose him, it would be unbecoming to demonstrate those sentiments in public.

As Jungkook entered the ballroom , something in his subconscious pricked at him. What was this uneasy feeling? He hadn't felt this way since 7 years ago when he had found out that Lady Y/N's mother was having an affair with his father, who had been Duke of Somerset at the time.

His father had been a wealthy and powerful man who had always seemed to always adore Jungkook's mother, the Duchess Somerset. Yet, he had done the exact opposite and when she had least expected it, well into their marriage of 30 years, taken up a torrid relationship with Y/N's mother. Jungkook's mother had died of grief merely a year after his father had made his affections not so secret to society. And his father soon followed her in death due to his weak constitution, succumbing to infection in the winter. Y/N's mother had been left to grieve the passing of his father and her husband that same year. She stayed with one of Y/N's married elder sisters.

He had never noticed Y/N's existence till then, till he found out whose daughter she was as she had scurried around the edges of the ballroom like a nervous rodent since her debut in Society. She wasn't much of a beauty to look at with plain features, full cheeks and a plush frame that seemed more matronly and frumpy than anything else. Her only redeeming feature were her sparkling eyes and lush hair that served to hinder the expressions on her face.

Her attire had deteriorated as her father's estate fell to ruin, thanks to Jungkook availing Jimin's crafty ways of tricking money out of the hands of Y/N's gambling father who had gotten rather desperate for money. Jimin ran a gaming hell that had made many a gentleman penniless---something he took great pride in. According to Jimin, if they lost money to the gaming hell, it was a testament to their bad luck and his good luck.

Jungkook had decided to strip her of any remaining honor, not as though her mother had left his mother with any honor either-- even in her death. It would be comeuppance for what her mother had done. She would pay for her mother's sins. And so he thoroughly ruined her reputation, ensuring she would never have a good life therafter--a life lacking family and a chance at a socially and financially advantageous match.

That's when it hit Jungkook. Where was Y/N? She wasn't in her usual spot overlooking people dancing at her bench. That had been her occupation for the past 7 years, watching people have the life that she would never have--he had made it so.

Jungkook felt extremely uneasy now that he could not spot Y/N. Where the hell was she? She always came to the bigger events that Lady Alyssa and her daughter attended. He had denied her invitation to most smaller ,more intimate events with his social acumen, but not the big ones. She had to see what she was missing out on---life. That had been his revenge plan.

But now she was nowhere to be found. He blindly searched for her, till he came across Lady Alyssa and inquired in a drawling tone , schooling his features into a calm that he didn't mirror the panic he was actually feeling, "Hello, Lady Alyssa. Fine evening it is today, is it not"? Lady Alyssa graciously smiled at him, "Yes, of course it is Lord Jungkook. How are you faring today? Oh, this is my daughter Solji in case you have not met her". Solji gracefully curtsied in her periwinkle floaty dress that showed off her waifish frame in the best light.

He continued in an unaffected tone, "And where is your companion, Lady Solji? Y/N is it"? Solji nodded as she replied, "She has decided to retire to the countryside for a while. Her father left her a countryside residence and so she has chosen to depart early before the season ends so that she can celebrate Christmas over there". Lady Alyssa sighed, stating in a resigned tone, "Anyhow she has no prospects of marriage with how she looks and conducts herself, better she is away from polluting the rest of the ton with her incessant cynicism and gloom".

Jungkook nodded at these statements seeming calm as a cucumber on the outide, whereas he was internally rattled at the happenings imparted to him. She had left? After so many years, she had decided to just leave? Evidently she had gotten tired of not being enough for London. But how could she leave without telling him?Without even an announcement of her departure?

A little voice in Jungkook's head gave him the blatant answer--not like she had any friends to inform of her departure. And not like he was her husband/brother/legal guardian, who she would have to inform of her comings and goings. After his blasting statement 7 years ago, the few friends she did have, left her --frightened of being associated with her ill repute by merely even conversing with her, or being seen in her presence.

She was a free bird, and Jungkook was hating the fact.

She had left him to play his own game. The pyramid only remained so, when there were people at the bottom. Sure, there were others he could and had manipulated to stay at the bottom, but he wanted her to remain there. Not for her to exit the game altogether.

Y/N was not allowed to be happy or have a Christmas, after what his mother had been through---he would definitely ensure this.

[frnkiebby]

have a frank blast bc i’ve been so irregular and i’m so sorry about that.

this weekend and the days prior to it really took it outta me and i wasn’t really really expecting that.

anyway ily all and pls have some franks~🎃

[thosewildcharms]

iwtvtwt will gleefully point out how different and improved show!louis is from book!louis on like a daily basis and then insist that the show canon relationships will look exactly like the book relationships somehow. as if the changes they made to louis' character don't have a ripple effect on absolutely everything

[quietlyblooms]

He leans over her until his face takes up all of her vision, blue eyes alight behind darkened lenses, grin in place upon lips. A finger pokes at her shoulder as Gojo leans there past the point of acceptable with little regard for her personal space, studying her face for a moment before he speaks.

"Whispers said that you have a little secret, Chiyo. My dear, fond classmate has gone and gotten a crush on someone!" He finally rises to his full height, dropping down next to her in a sprawl of gangly limbs and easy confidence. "And you kept it a secret from me, should I be hurt?" Faux concern is exagerrated with a hand laid upon his chest and a gasp, though soon dissolves into a fit of laughter.

unprompted | @resolutepath gets too close!

she doesn't trust his grin, and as he leans in much closer than she'd like him to, she trusts it even less. he's going to say something she doesn't like, has a look in his eyes like he knows something he shouldn't. she scowls back at him, ready to swat his hand away, but then he opens his mouth, and it takes every bit of self control for chiyo to keep her face in check.

chiyoko hisakawa doesn't have crushes -- or, at least, she doesn't let anyone know when she does. except... her eyes flick over to shoko, who pretends to not notice their conversation, before watching gojo plop himself beside her. her face grows warm despite herself, but chiyo rolls her eyes and treats his teasing as simply that. teasing. there isn't any truth that needs to be avoided.

" if i had a crush, of course i'd keep it from you. you're unbearable as it is, " she complains, pushing gojo's arm out of her space and onto his side of the couch. a stifled laugh draws her attention across the common room to geto. he's joined shoko in pretending to be oblivious, but they're awful at it, not at all subtle in the glances they sneak from where they've got textbooks spread across the floor. chiyo narrows her eyes at them and crosses her arms, leans into the corner of the couch as if that small, extra distance will make a difference for her nervous heart. even if she let it slip that chiyo harbored affection for someone, surely shoko wouldn't have revealed a name. the blonde really might pummel her if she had.

" shouldn't believe everything you hear, gojo. " she meets his gaze again. her heart jumps at the sight of piercing blue peeking over his sunglasses. he can't see into her soul, but sometimes it feels like he can. gently she kicks his leg. " people will take advantage if you're so gullible. "

[violetnaps]

anyway since we know nothing abt miyako my headcanon is ukitake had a whole thing about stealing talented officers from other divisions and she was brought into 13th directly as a 3rd seat with the intention of being made lieutenant when kaien took over as captain

[devotedlystrangewizard]

when you agree to hang out with gale during the tiefling party in act 1 lae'zel says "ive no doubt hes as seductive as he is succint" but lae'zel. the whole using 300 words to express how he feels is so endearing lae'zel. lae'zel listen to me hes basically writing a book about how cool i am lae'zel

[atlasshrugd]

↳ Chapter 1 of WHITE NIGHTS has dropped!

(Read here on ao3)

Porsche frowns. “You know, you could say thank you.” Before Porsche can wonder why he said that, the stranger looks up. He has a sharp face, coal-black eyes, and a look that makes Porsche take two steps back. The silence sharpens, and Porsche becomes finely aware of how alone they are in the alley, and how nobody would think to find him there. But then the stranger says, “Thank you.” His voice is quiet, precise, lonesome. Porsche takes a deep breath, making him realize that he’s been holding it. “You’re welcome.”

Summary:

The gangs of Bangkok have always described themselves as ‘God-fearing people.’

They should have been worried about someone else.

Kinn is the young leader of the main crime family in 1990’s Bangkok, hunted by rival gangs after the death of his father, the Chao Pho. Chao Pho left a ‘key to the city’ that will supposedly grant the owner full control of all gang syndicates, but not even Kinn knows where or what it is.

Meanwhile, Porsche is an idealistic police cadet seeking revenge on the mob for his father's death, despite his vow of never taking a life. When he unknowingly saves the Phrai Ngu, the revered Ghost Serpent, and the man he has sworn to capture, the mob boss takes a liking to him and requests him to be the liaison between the syndicate and the police.

As the Chief Superintendent orders Porsche to gain Kinn’s trust to double-cross him, Porsche sets his plans of revenge in motion. But as Porsche’s secret meetings with Kinn occur over the months, they unexpectedly find solace in each other’s company, and the lines of honour begin to blur.

[selunesfavouriteprincess]

torn between creating Shadowheart in veilguard to romance Taash or making Neve in bg3 (romance tbc)

[wannaremember]

.

[future-crab]

Just got upset with someone for taking my Black Parade cd without permission, and I could feel my 10 year old self hovering behind me like a ghost, reminding me what a hypocrite I am

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.

(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.

Student scenarios and profiles:

◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.

He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...

"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"

◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.

Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.

"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."

◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.

He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.

He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.

◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.

He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.

Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.

"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.

◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.

Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.

Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.

With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.

Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.

They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.

"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.

All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)

[candywife333]

One of the guys

pairing: OT7? alphas X chubby wingwoman HYBE employee Y/N (omega in hiding)

NEW MINISERIES (almost resembles a series of just dribbles)

Summary: She's the man. No literally. She totally is. At least in the perception of everyone at HYBE. She hangs out with the guys like a pro , strategizes with them to get them any girl of their choice, gets rid of their one night stands with ease, convinces their FWBs to leave them alone, provides constructive criticism about their sexual techniques, and even counsels them when they are having mental breakdowns. In essence, she makes MEN out of boys. Is that her job description? Not exactly. But she does it anyway. Because Y/N just happens to be one of the guys.

Warning: cursing, crude language, eventual smut

PART 1

"Y/N, does this outfit look good for the date tonight?!!!", Taehyung paced around in a panicked fashion, worried about being late for his date.

Y/N turned around slowly in her revolving chair nursing a freshly baked croissant in her hand, quizzical expression on her face, right eyebrow propped up in a strong arch. She calmly advised, "Lose the ugly plaid shirt and replace it with a plain black turtle neck. Get rid of that thirsty look on your face and wipe the sweat on the nape of your neck. You don't want to look like you just ran a marathon. As much as old spice commercials try to convince guys that women like sweaty men, we don't like guys looking like drowning rats on first dates".

Taehyung opened his mouth open in shock and disbelief at her cutting words. Y/N questioned nonchalantly as she propped her sweat pant clad right leg on the coffee table, munching on her crispy treat, " Have I ever mislead you boi? Till now, have you not bagged a chick under my guidance"? Taehyung winced, because he very well knew that not only him, but all the other members never lost when Y/N advised them with regards to the workings of women. Especially in regards to the mindset of omegas.

They were all alphas and any girl, or omega for that matter that they chose to pursue, they got. Mainly because of Y/N. You could call her a lifestyle manager or a counselor. The words were not apt enough to describe her position completely. She was all encompassing in her role. Nobody would be able to replace her.

Y/N was originally one of their junior managers, till they slowly realized that she was worth more than just that job role. Taehyung remembered the day they had met her. When Jungkook had been bemoaning his lack of p***y at the time, Y/n had remained in her usual uniform of black sweatpants and baggy black shirt with a smirking expression on her quiet face. Side note: None of them knew how y/N even looked like under those baggy clothes, she never changed her clothes, ever. Under any circumstances.

She had taken one look at Jungkook's pitiful, pathetic little face propped up like Orphan Annie on a blue loveseat, and remarked in her usual quietly cutting manner, "You need to wash that BO off your armpits boy. Brush your teeth. Use some salicylic acid on that face. And learn what weights are. Girls don't like oily spaghetti. We like it in our mouth when we eat it, but we don't like f**king it". They had all been startled at the time.

But she had resolutely continued her tirade, "You can take the advice or leave it. But I guarantee that if you fix what I said, you will have girls falling all over themselves for you, like flies over lasagna". After her curt statement, she walked away, a baggy legend , without even a glance backwards.

Over the years, since their debut, she remained in the background, mostly staying in HYBE's main building, acting as a mix between manager, mental health counselor, life coach and sex therapist. If anyone had questions that they couldn't get figured out anywhere else, they came to Y/N. Cause she was just that good. New idols swore by her, even giving up time off some times, just to have appointments with her biweekly.

She was too good, to the point that even the jade rock statue that was Yoongi, would consult her when he was struggling. And he never even consulted his parents, so that was saying a lot. It was even more hilarious that their head of PR and sometimes even Bang PD were found creeping into her office. She was a magician and a queen and she knew it.

Taehyung nodded at her suggestions, not questioning her and got ready to head out the door as Y/N made her way out of his dressing room. She rarely did much strenuous activity, so she had this habit where she calculated her steps daily and would be found randomly pacing around the HYBE building with her tablet in hand.

As Y/N left his room, Jungkook walked in, smiling at y/n in glee, making grabby hands to try to hug her. She swatted him away with a smirk and walked away as he entered the room. He grunted, " Looking good Tae. Off to bag Ashley I see. You are pulling all the stops for this one". Taehyung shrugged , "No choice dude. She is super selective about who she dates. Which is why Y/N told me to go for a basic but chic look. And she told me to keep some gum on me, in case my breath stank. Because apparently classy girls hate garlic".

Jungkook nodded absently, clearly not interested in girls like Ashley, the daughter of a makeup corporation's CEO. He motioned for Taehyung to come closer, as if what he were about to say were a top secret, "Do you ever wonder what Y/n ACTUALLY looks like"? Taehyung, bopped him on his coconut head with his right hand. "The hell do you mean, what she actually looks like. Not like she is lying to us. The girl doesn't even wear makeup". Jungkook shook his head frantically, "That isn't what I mean. I mean, we don't even know her shape, she dresses so baggy she looks like a blob. And her face is obscured by her thick black specs that honestly look more like sunglasses because of the tinting. And her hair is always pulled up into a bun, so we don't even know the texture of her hair".

Taehyung pondered these sentiments. For sure, Y/N was very bland when it came to appearance. The only distinctive thing about her was her ocean breeze fragrance. Otherwise she blended into the background. "Why are you suddenly so curious Jungkook? She's worked for so long at HYBE. Why does it matter"? Jungkook looked uneasy as he proclaimed after a pregnant pause and gathered Taehyung even closer as if to divulge some national security threat, "I have a suspicion that she has a........please don't tell anyone my conjectures........big ........ASS".

Dumbfounded at his outlandish statement, Taehyung exclaimed in disbelief, "You mean a BADUNKADUNK, A G WAGON, A DUMP TRUCK? OUR Y/N"?!! He nervously tittered, "no way man, no way". Jungkook winced as he continued, "Well I am sort of curious, because you see...", he twiddled his thumbs with trepidation, "I sort of was looking when she bent over to pick up a pen...and her shirt sort of slid up and I saw something that looked massive. You know, of global proportions". He paused as if in deep concentration, finger on his head, "Worldwide, if I had to put it in the simplest terms. And the stranger thing, is that her scent smelled like strawberry cheesecake for all of 2 seconds till it switched back to her usual fragrance".

Both of them stood there, puzzled in a quandary. This may not seem like a big deal. But it definitely was. Because if Y/N was pretending to be someone else entirely, their world view and perception of life, may have just shifted drastically.

[catpriciousmarjara]

Every single day I'm grateful for that time I stumbled on the SVSSS headcanon that while Bingqiu is considered highkey confusing and lowkey cringe in the demon realm, Moshang is known as the Power Couple™. They're the demonic love story. The 'It Couple'.

Just generations of demons sighing over the dramatic and bloody love story of the Northern King and his right hand man plus spymaster, yearning for one of their own filled with such glorious violence and betrayal! A classic childhood friends to lovers narrative filled with ups and downs and copious murder and gore! Love at first sight! The story of the loyal spy who rose up the ranks of the brutal Northern Court, culling his competition while providing vital intel to his liege, all the while infiltrating the most powerful cultivation sect in the world and eventually even becoming a Peak Lord! The slow burn of all slow burns! All kinds of spicy complicated power imbalances! Sexy, unexpected age gaps! Years of heavy plot! Decades of passionate courting! The pinnacle of inter-species forbidden romance! The tale of a man who swore eternal loyalty after falling violently in love at the very first meeting, calling a mere Prince His King in his desire and determination to see his beloved's ascension to the throne that was his birthright, and the Demon Prince who was unexpectedly presented with fierce loyalty in a life that had until then been rife with treachery and grabbed it with both hands and never looked back!

...and there's Junshan and the weird human he keeps around. Somewhat interesting if you're into that teacher-student thing I guess. There were very few deaths. Some bland murders. The trial arc and the self destruct thing plus corpse hoarding was interesting but overall very vanilla. Unseasoned. Not even a proper decade of drama. Kinda boring. And Junshan's half human so they're like Walmart version inter-species romance. But whatever the Emperor's into I guess. His dad was kinda weird too but at least his relationship with that human woman had some kick to it. The new generation just doesn't appreciate a long drawn out painful romance tsk tsk...

Like infinitely grateful to whoever first spawned that headcanon. Never fails to make me laugh. Honestly the most hilarious thing I've ever seen in this fandom. Hope your pillow is always cold and you never stub your toe.

[sunderwight]

Okay, concept:

Luo Binghe grew up very poor prior to arriving to QJP. And when he first got to QJP, he was ostracized and neglected. So there are probably a lot of phrases, terms, and ideas that he didn't know were things until SY arrived and started actually teaching him. Right? So the bulk of what he did learn, he learned directly from Shen Yuan's own slightly messy attempts to fake ancient scholarly credentials.

Plus, QJP is supposed to be the peak of scholars and well-read, fancy intellectuals, and YQY probably also doesn't know shit about most of that stuff (having also been a former illiterate street child) and of course is incredibly predisposed to take Shen Qingqiu's side on virtually anything. Especially something frivolous or linked to their shared past, such as someone, say Qi Qingqi, accusing Shen Qingqiu of making up a literary reference or "gibberish" word. If something Shen Qingqiu says is something no one else seems to know, that just proves he's more worldly and well-read than the rest of his peers. Also, Shang Qinghua will probably know it, and despite his many (many) character flaws, Shang Qinghua reads a lot too. There's really very little to convince a former street child turned Demon Emperor whose former education began and ended with Shen Qingqiu specifically and Meng Mo (wildly out-of-touch with human culture anyway) to suspect that some of the difficult-to-source references his master makes really have no worldly source (in this world).

So Luo Binghe, in his quest to become as knowledgeable of all things about his shizun and keep up with him as well as possible, and maybe also put down some arguments he's overheard once and for all, eventually gets annoyed because CLEARLY there is a wealth of cultural knowledge contemporary to Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua that didn't survive to his own generation. His efforts at hunting down all the sources being referenced and origins of certain philosophical ideas or terminology keep coming up empty in certain departments. He's been over the entire QJP library with a fine-tooth comb, but QJP focuses on things pertaining to cultivation, history, and knowledge. Obviously, there are gaps. The archives are unlikely to keep pop cultural references and lowbrow literature, and Luo Binghe begins to suspect (from what tastes his master seems to share with his shishu) that that is that actual source he's missing.

The trashy yellow books and romance literature of their generation! Bawdy poems and lewd artworks so on! Heck, that's probably even where the shared "code" (bad English) comes into play -- disciples are always trying to sneak forbidden material past their teachers and smuggle naughty books into the dormitories. Knowing Shizun and Shang Qinghua, Luo Binghe honestly wouldn't be surprised if the two of them were racketeering that shit in their own disciple days. Shang Qinghua acquiring materials, Shen Qingqiu acquiring buyers, both of them making their extra spending money off of secretly supplying Cang Qiong's population with contraband fiction and art.

Also, that would explain why both Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua get flustered and refuse to elaborate if someone asks them what this or that strange turn of phrase refers to. Shen Qingqiu has a very thin face for actually discussing erotica, and Shang Qinghua doesn't like being caught doing illegal shit.

Luo Binghe desperately needs access to trash lit that's older than he is. However, most of that stuff is not printed to last, and turning it up is like trying to find old Spirk zines without the internet.

Shang Qinghua, the obvious go-to source, also seems to not really have anything that old anymore (intimidating him is laughably easy, if he had anything he would have coughed it up by the second or third time Luo Binghe asked and frowned at the same time), and if Shen Qingqiu did have anything he wouldn't want to be questioned about it. Asking too much might even get it destroyed in an act of excessive embarrassment.

Which means there is just one other person Luo Binghe knows who might be able to lead him to some sources. One other person he is absolutely, 100% certain was extensively reading trashy literature around the same time that Shizun was a young man. Someone who would know where to go to even begin looking for it.

Luo Binghe is going to have to ask Tianlang Jun for help with something.