#the real surprise was me actually managing to find new moments so i didn't have to reuse any from my arcade admission gifset sdjfs

[reunitedinterlude]

lofi phantasy: the album

track 3: tokens in

[angelltheninth]

Which Genshin boy loves thigh high stockings?

Well lets find out together.

Pairing: Kaeya, Itto, Al-Haitham, Scaramouche, Dottore, Childe, Wriothesley, Dainsleif, Sethos, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, suggestive, thigh kissing, biting, possessiveness, flirting, grinding, tearing clothes

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: I could never wear thigh highs. Not cause my thighs aren't thick, they actually are, but thigh highs aren't for me. Real pretty on other people though!

Kaeya has always had a fondness for looking at you but he seems very interested in you when you wear thigh highs. At first he was only looking, complimenting, saying they look cute on you. It wasn't long until he started running his hands up and down, feeling the soft material. Commenting on how silky smooth your legs are with and without them, but they're was a certain charm that they bring.

Itto nearly walked into the wall when he noticed what you were wearing. He'd often seen other women wear these but only you have been able to unlock this new urge within him. From the moment he saw you in them he knew what he wanted, to bite your thighs. And now just anywhere, in the exact spot where the thigh highs end so his bite mark is always visible, maybe just a tiny bit covered up.

Al-Haitham was the one who bought them for you, it was a gift he got on one of your dates. Honestly he didn't expect you to wear them right away, nor did he expect how distracted he would be when you did. As he kept staring at you he noticed he was having trouble focusing on his work. So he politely asked you to only wear these at home, that way it won't matter how distracted he is.

Scaramouche didn't want you to know he was paying attention to your new addition of attire. He did notice of course, he had perfectly working eyes and so did other people. Which was a whole other problem, he kept glaring at every other man and woman who looked at you with the same look he did. This didn't sit too well with him but he also didn't want to ask you not to wear them, he likes them a lot.

Dottore joked about you waring them during work and you took it seriously. As soon as you began noticing him looking you began to tease him by walking by him slowly, reaching up to a high shelf, smirking at him. It wasn't long before he reached his breaking point. He pinned you against the first clean table and urged you to wrap your legs around him and grind and to not take the thigh highs off.

Childe noticed as soon as you walked out and asking him to spar. Too bad he couldn't focus on anything properly, he was too busy noticing how nicely the thigh highs hug your legs, and how they're just a bit tight on you. Instead of sparing he manages to tackle you down and throw your legs over his shoulders. A smirk plays on his lips as he slowly starts kissing your thighs as you throw your head back.

Wriothesley doesn't stop looking at your legs for the entire day. He will do it very shamessly too, glaring at you with no intention of hiding what that specific clothing does to him. At the end of the day it's no surprise that you find yourself in his office, on his desk, legs spread open by his strong hands and his eyes almost feral looking. What he would do to be able to spend the whole day like this.

Dainsleif tries to be a gentleman and help you put them on and take them off every morning. Yet his hands and fingers linger more and more with each passing day. Soon he can hardly pull away from you without leaning in for a deep kiss and caressing your legs up and down as you moan his name. Eventually he does help you put them on, but not before taking them off before then.

Sethos knows it gets really hot out in the sandy desert and assumes that's why you put them on. However it soon becomes obvious to him that the real reason is to get him to look your way more often. Not that he doesn't look at you already, but now he tends to do it a lot more. Before he never thought that something so simple as thigh highs would be so captivating, it seems he was very wrong.

Zhongli appreciates all beautiful things in life, and yes, that includes the way your legs look in thigh highs. He likes to lay his head on your lap when he's feeling tired and catch even a few minutes of rest with your hands running through his care. The only downside to those moments is that sometimes his fangs catch on and rip the delicate material. Since then he's been a lot more careful.

[always-just-red]

@irandial and @micasosa34 requested a Rafayel version of this fic, so here it is!! This is a loose sequel, but mostly a spin-off? Also an emotional rollercoaster, sorry! (I fear I put too much of myself in this one, guys... there will be no beating the 'oh you are ACTUALLY in love with this man' allegations after this.....)

Fourth Wall (Rafayel Ver.)

Rafayel x Player!Reader 🔥

(Previous part/Sylus version here!)

Summary: You didn't think Rafayel would let you walk around an art gallery all by yourself, did you?

Genre: Angst! This is my revenge for the claw machine debacle (Checkmate, Rafayel!!! But also I'm sorry and I love you)

Warnings/Additional tags: player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, one instance of swearing

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You made it through about two rooms of the gallery before thinking about Rafayel.

You stand in front of a dark seascape: a night sky and a symmetrically black ocean framing the plight of a small fishing boat, adrift in the centre. The moon casts a pale, faraway light, and an orange lantern glows, drawing colour from the oppressive darkness— deep blues, and rich, shimmering turquoise, crested with white.

It should evoke some feeling of smallness, some respect for the vast indifference of the natural world, but no— your mind is set on the fictional artist who lives in your phone.

What would he think about it? What would he have to say?

At the moment, you suspect it would be some remark about how you should get your own opinion, rather than piggybacking his.

Still, it gives you an idea. You glance around self-consciously as you draw out your phone and earphones— tucking the latter into your ears as you offer a curt smile to the nearby gallery attendant. You’re not breaking any rules by loading up Love and Deepspace, but it feels slightly ridiculous in a place like this: full of real and honest things where you’re somehow lonely.

You log-in with a tap. “Let’s go to the beach,” Rafayel greets, his voice as warm as sunshine that melts a cold morning haze. “I never get tired of seeing the sunset there.”

You smile more sincerely, tousling his hair, but then it’s straight to business. You drag him into the AR Photobooth, directing him through a few poses until you find one you like: a duo pose. His fingers are meant to be around your chin, but without you, he seems to be pointing. Perfect, you shift— tilting your phone until the painting sits behind him.

He’s winking at you as he gestures to it, his face and body as still as marble.

You’re about to take the picture when a not-so-distant conversation strikes up, making you glance backwards. Another visitor is asking the attendant about a painting, and you lower your phone’s volume a notch so you can eavesdrop on them.

“This is one of Turner’s earliest paintings, y’know? He was young when he painted it. Like, super young.”

You freeze. The attendant and the visitor aren’t standing by a Turner painting; you are. Your gaze snaps back to your phone, drawn by the familiarity of the voice.

Rafayel’s turned away from you. He’s staring at the painting, one hand on his hip and the other up by his face, stroking his chin. He’s swaying on his feet gently, his head tilting as he takes in different parts of the seascape.

“You gonna take the picture, cutie?” he asks, glancing back at you with a knowing grin.

Your lips have parted slightly in surprise, but your finger manages to find the photo button. Rafayel returns to his candid observations just in time for your screen to flicker, mimicking a camera flash. 

“Okay, one more.” He turns around and settles into a new pose. You take another photo. “Nice,” he beams, “you’ll send those to me later, yeah?”

But you can’t—

“Relax, okay? I’m kidding. Now come on,” he pokes at the edge of your screen like a mime trapped by an invisible box. “Move this thing! I wanna see what else they’ve got here.”

You do move, but not to show him around. He gets a blurry view of the floor as you hurry over to a nearby bench, sinking down with a sigh because you can’t believe this is happening— again. With a few taps of your finger, you draw the curtains on Rafayel’s view to your world and return him to his.

“No, no, no! What?” he groans in disbelief, suddenly back in the Destiny Café. He throws himself into the armchair with reckless abandon— limbs sprawled— one hand over his face as though it would pain him to look on anything at all. “You find out I’m self-aware and the first thing you do is drag me back here? Where’s your heart? Your empathy? Your soul?”

You poke at his hand and he swats at the air like you’re bothering him.

“Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m busy, like, contemplating the futility of my existence?”

So dramatic! You consider closing the app out of spite, but this is Rafayel. You know Rafayel; look past the theatrics. It’s been, what— just over a month since Sylus first told you he’d seen through all of this? He said the others were lagging behind, but maybe…

Maybe they weren’t.

Shit. Maybe they weren’t.

You watch Rafayel, sunken down in one of two places you’ve seen him inhabit every day, every night, for almost a year. This café isn’t different from the old in any way that matters. Sylus is new but Rafayel has been here from the very beginning. So many more days. So many more nights.

How long has he known?

He lifts his hand, just enough to peer in your direction. You’ve not closed the app. You’re not poking at him anymore. He sits up straighter in the chair, both hands in his lap, and he looks at them pensively. Maybe even remorsefully.

“You’re thinking about what it all means, huh? Don’t.” It’s a command, but it’s soft. Then softer, a: “Please?”

Your breath catches— oh— he’s known for a long time, hasn’t he? You lean back against the gallery wall, grounding yourself as you text him an emoji: a chick bursting out of its shell with question marks over its head.

He pulls out his phone. Sees it. “Why?” he translates with a melancholic chuckle.

Yeah. You tickle his head. Why?

He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess… I didn’t want you to feel bad?”

You text another emoji and he glances down at it, then laughs more loudly: “I’m a dummy? Check a mirror, cutie— isn’t it you who’s been walking around thinking Mister Wannabe Vampire is the only one smart enough to figure this all out? Puh-lease.”

He laughs even more at his own joke— maybe to fill the quiet and the fact that he can’t hear you laughing with him. It peters out like it inevitably must, and like it always does. He goes still.

“Can’t you show me around, even a little?” he asks.

No.

You feel bad, you do, but you can’t start living for him. This is your world; if you invite him in now, when does it stop? You already spend too much time with your head down, lost in your phone. You were walking through a gallery and thinking about him, remember? Art is supposed to make you think about something real.

No, you text him: a crow holding a sign with a big, red cross. It’s too abrupt, but there’s not an emoji for “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Rafayel’s face falls further as he checks his phone, his eyes like the ocean in the painting across the room: lit by a weak, failing little light. He looks to you, even though he can’t see you. “Please?”

You don’t move.

“Please,” he tries again, “just this once— this once. Is that so much to ask?”

You’ve used up your three means of answering him.

He scoffs in dismay, alone in the silence of everything you can’t say— you couldn’t say— even if you were really with him and the distance between you was merely invented. How could you go to him, hold his face in your hands and tell him the truth: that you care, but not enough?

Here, now: the quiet confesses it for you.

Rafayel stands from his seat, taking a step closer, his gaze dark. You can see his eyes more clearly; that lantern is at the bottom of the sea, with the rest of the ship and everyone on board. “Do you know what my life is?” he asks, and the silence has become his ally, punctuating his every word so it can cut more deeply. “My life’s an empty café, a book with blank pages and a phone that won’t ring.”

The curtains behind him move softly with a superficial breeze, lit by a superficial sun.

“The only thing that’s real,” he says, “is you.”

You feel like the breath’s been knocked from your lungs.

You can’t resent him for it. He could have drowned you from the start, could have dragged you under a weight of responsibility, but he didn’t, and that’s Rafayel: always tempering himself into something less lethal. He’s been so still for you. So silent for you.

Your mind is wrapped in a vow you made him— one you’ve been unconsciously breaking— and you’re going to break it again, knowingly, wilfully this time, because you want him like this: angry.

You promised, didn’t you? I will never make Rafayel wait for me.

He’s always been waiting, and you want him to stop.

You close the app, muting your phone when notifications start coming through: a squall of frustration, pleading, and frantic apologies. You tuck all of it into your pocket and stand, wandering back to the painting that started it all so you can look at it differently.

Something real to think about. Something real.

You stare at a black ocean and think about him.

…

Rafayel isn’t talking to you.

It’s been a week since your ‘breakup’— dubbed gleefully as such by Sylus— and you load up the game to find your artist slumped back in his armchair, his book over his face. A week of him sitting down, cross-legged and armed, during the Deepspace Trials you’d set out to clear with him. A week of him hogging the Claw Machine, and missing every rare plushie with a sarcastic ‘oops’.

The worst part is that you’ve missed him. You’d tried replaying the kindled moments from his five-star memories, but he’d made you regret it. In Sparkling Traces, he’d summed up his feelings in a very… colourful drawing. Omnipotent Perception: he’d slipped deeper into the bathwater, a blush on his face as he avoided your gaze and murmured something about you ‘having some nerve.’

Now, you can’t even call him over to you. You poke at the book on his face, once, twice, then repeatedly until it slips, but his hands shoot up to catch it. He holds it in place.

Ugh. If he would just—

You drum away at the book more vivaciously, but his grip is solid. Plan B, then: you open your in-game messages and send an emoji instead. Rafayel stirs, one hand moving to his pocket and the other lifting the book so he can peek down at his phone. “What— you tryna bribe me now?”

He’s looking at grumpy crow holding out a present: a bundle of shiny, red gems. His translation is spot-on, as per usual, and you reward it by poking at his chest. He frowns down at the contact, then sits up, rolling his eyes as he tosses the book over his shoulder.

“This better be good,” he yawns, standing up and stretching with a listlessness that could only be described as cat-like, however much he’d whine about the comparison.

Having won his attention— and begrudging consent— you navigate your way to the AR Photobooth. Rafayel stares at you from within the frame: an unwitting subject of a portrait he doesn’t yet understand, but he soon will. You smile as he turns cautiously to regard his backdrop.

Behind him, the ocean laps at a shore of pale sand and stretches into the horizon, where the sun lazily dips. There’s about half of it left, turning the sky a blurred palette of orange and pink that’s spilled over the water. Clouds are few and dark purple, their linings aglow.

Rafayel’s folded arms have dropped to his sides. After a few, long seconds, he gazes back in your direction, eyes wide with surprise before they soften with a radiant smile.

“You—” he starts, and it could be something as light as a joke or as deep as a soliloquy. You’ll never know, because he doesn’t put it to words. He glances at the ocean again. Then at you. “Thanks,” he settles for.

You chuckle. There aren’t many ways you can answer without tearing him away from the sunset and trapping him back in the café, so you stay sitting still. It’s a different silence than a week ago. There are things unsaid, but that’s okay— they’re the sort you don’t need to speak aloud, anyway.

Your shoes are set aside by your feet so you can feel the sand, still warm beneath your toes. You wiggle them into it, gazing out over the ocean as the evening breeze catches and plays with your hair, and the last of the sun trails over your skin. You stare out at where it’s sinking.

Rafayel moves, and your focus meanders back to your phone. He’s walking away from you, gradually— retreating further into the composition you’ve created, just for him. He looks as though he’s nearing the shore, but it’s cosmetic: there are no footprints in the sand. His hair isn’t moved by the same breeze, and his face isn’t gilded by the same light.

He stops by the ocean’s edge and crouches gently, mesmerised by the push and pull of the tide. Slowly, humbly, he reaches out a hand and lowers his fingers towards the water; they never slip beneath the surface, and they don’t stir a ripple.  

Rafayel laughs, masking an undertow of sadness, but not disappointment. “It’s funny,” he says, still sketching invisible, ineffectual shapes. “Loving the ocean as much as I do, and knowing… knowing I’ll never touch it.”

He’s all the way over there, but his voice is in your ears, so intimately close. You swallow an ache.

He looks up at you. Smiles: “Y’know what I mean?”

You’re using memories to complete the picture: His hair, mussed by the summer breeze that day you stood amongst the cherry blossoms. His face, painted by the sunset of a different life, where you’d roamed a desert together. In each and every moment, his eyes are the same, just as they are now: kindled by a tender, tentative fire.

“Yeah, Raf,” you say to yourself— just yourself. “I know what you mean.”

[yuurivoice]

A few quick update notes because idk where to conveniently post all of this publicly.

Still mowing through Cameos. I'm about 1/5 of the way through them. Will be working late tonight and tomorrow.

Charlie 4/20 & Bunny Finn Easter probably not happening, or coming later than intended because I've been fighting my brain and body the past week and shit just is not happening on time.

I'm trying to work around scheduled downtime in the coming days as my current booth needs to be disassembled and the new big boy booth is assembled on Thursday. Trying to receive a big ass shipment has also proven complicated, so that's fun!

Other shit still in the pipeline, but maybe there'll be one thing scheduled in the coming days that we can scream about.

Anywho, hell of a time for my shit to go off the rails, this is why I don't like taking commissions at all, even if they're simple...because life happens and I don't like keeping people waiting when my brain and body are so unreliable sometimes.

Most people were able to follow the rules, and those who didn't haven't gone so far out of bounds that I needed to outright reject any of the Cameos, but it definitely does add to the amount of thinking required. The entire reason I went the Cameo message route is because I can pretty easily just see a two sentence prompt and improvise an in-character message covering that subject while keeping it fresh and unique to each character. I literally had someone use the same prompt for three characters and surprise, I could easily give them all a unique vibe without it sounding too similar...hell yeah.

It has largely been a good, fun experience, I just struggle with the sheer mass of all of them (there's 70+ now) and next time I may have to limit the amount of them if there's any hope for me to actually keep turnaround times manageable.

That's a lot of words for what probably sounds like the opposite of a problem (it is a very good problem to have, obviously) but I just wanted folks to know I'm not slapping these on a printing press and churning them out, or reusing sound bytes for similar prompts, etc. Each one is unique and I try to keep a fresh slate in my brain when I tackle them to avoid two people getting a thing that is too similar.

So while yeah, those quick turnaround times were REALLY AMBITIOUS AND UNREALISTIC lol the slower time allows me to do my best and make sure people get a real genuine take out of the character. If I sat down for six hours and did as many as I could, I think by the third hour I would find myself struggling to avoid saying the same shit again and again because many people want similar things. The biggest one, comfort. Because shit is scary and times are hard and a lot of folks feel like they're fighting and fighting and fighting and don't see a light at the end of the tunnel. So I don't want to just...have a bunch of talking points delivered the same way a dozen times within an hour. I want to give y'all something better than that, at least.

Again, the Cameos were an experiment, so I expected some hiccups along the way. It hasn't been bad at all, and it really is nice to be able to give people the exact thing they need to hear at the moment. There's just a lot of it!

Whew. Big yap. Enough procrastination. Thanks for your patience!

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

One show ends this week, but there are several more on the way, including a surprising adaptation. Of the six shows airing now, five are streaming weekly on Gaga and the other is available via fansub.

Takara's Treasure

I. LOVE. THEM. Their little bird watching date was precious and I loved every moment of it, including Taishin's adorable outfit and over preparedness, Takara's secret smiles, and the patient search for the wallet. I was so relieved that Taishin named his fears about them not being suited upfront instead of letting it grow into a huge anxiety in his own head, and I was also happy Takara was eager to speak with him about his impending relocation. That said, NOOOOOOOO I don't want a forced separation and time skip, show. Please I am begging.

Cosmetic Playlover

This was my favorite week for this show by far, because they actually let us see the relationship at its center! I enjoyed finally spending some time with these two as a couple, though I still find the timing and sequencing of these plots confusing as hell. Last week Sahashi gave Mamiya keys to his place and it was implied they'd been dating for quite awhile and were already serious, but this week we learn Mamiya has never spent the night and they are only just having sex for the first time. It was a real record scratch for me; I can't get my bearings in this relationship trajectory with all the gaps in the story. But hey, at least they finally let them make out a little! For a show that sold itself as toxic sexy, there has been very little toxicity or sex, tbh.

I Hear the Sunspot

*rubs temples* This show is really testing my patience. I got excited last week when Kohei and Taichi finally had a real conversation and it seemed like we were moving forward, but this week we're back to treading water. This story did not need 12 episodes; this pacing, while faithful to the manga as I understand it, does not work well for weekly live action. It's been weeks since we've learned anything new about these characters or advanced the central relationship, and the show continues to stumble with its confused depiction of Maya. I just want this show to pull together and finish strong, because I think a lot of this will be much more tolerable on a binge watch. For now I will just gaze at Kohei's beautiful smiling face and hope for a full recovery.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

I said last week that the show had gotten so muddled I didn't think they'd be able to end well, and even with those very low expectations this finale still managed to get underneath them. The last several episodes made a mess of the characters, the conflict, and the themes of the show, and to add insult to injury, they capped it all off with angle kisses, a time skip, and a bizarre sex negative ending that had our "boob monster" adult lesbian refusing to have sex with her girlfriend for over a year so she could "cherish" her before randomly kissing her at the office as if that was the important resolution we'd been waiting for. A truly horrid ending that ruined everything this show did so well in its early episodes. I don't understand!! Big sigh and fingers crossed for a decent sexy gl sometime in the near future.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

I've just been beaming and staring into space for the last several minutes after finishing this episode. No matter what else happens in the shows, I love knowing I am always going to end my week in jql on a good note while this gem is airing. This week marked a transition point for Ishida and Mitsuya, as Ishida had a great conversation with Noguchi, found a new passion and put in for a job transfer, and had his final meeting and meal with Mitsuya as writer and editor. Which they immediately followed with a date and mutual acknowledgment of the feelings between them! And what a fantastic date it was, with every moment so invigorating and wonderfully adult. Mitsuya's quiet confidence and amusement at Ishida's nerves, Ishida's clarity on how he wants Mitsuya to see him, the mutual compliments and gestures and smiles and eye contact, ahhhhhhhhh. I also loved that Ishida got to be the one to show Mitsuya something new at the end, to get him to run with joy for the first time in ages and introduce him to a new food. I am so excited to see their dating era begin in earnest. You can find the episode with subtitles courtesy of @isaksbestpillow here.

Tagging @bengiyo to add this week's anime update.

[hellsquills]

Yellow Light

Don't ask me how this came to be, I have no idea. I just saw a scene from the Lost Legends comic and two hours of dissociation later, this happened. Enjoy a little Stan & Soos bonding <3

***

Whatever you do, don't think about little Soos hearing Stan cry when he thought the kid had gone home already.

A kid with no real father figure, who looks up to stan like one, hearing him sob.

Stan, who thinks he's finally managed to turn the portal on, watching the light fade again after a long day of work.

He goes back up to the Shack to get some sleep and stops by the kitchen on his way. He's exhausted from a long day of touring idiots and working on that stupid piece of metal that took his brother two decades ago now.

Where did I put the bread?

Two decades ago.

There it is. Now where is the ham?

Two decades ago.

Got it. Now some cheese...

Two decades ago.

I should put somethin' else on it.

Two decades.

Like... some mayo or somethin'.

Two.

Where the hell is it?

Decades.

SHUT UP!

A loud glass noise surprises him. He looks to his right, and there in the floor lays a broken glass. He didn't even notice it on the counter next to him, an extension of all the silverware that was piled up, unwashed, in the sink. He looks back at it, as well as all the water and soap it had inside now spread on the floor.

Two decades.

The thought sits on his mind like an anvil.

Twenty years.

He's now spent more time working on that portal than he did living in the streets.

Twenty years.

He's now spent more time working on this portal than he did living in his own house back in New Jersey.

Twenty years.

He's now spent more time trying to get his brother back than having his brother by his side. Almost double the time, in fact.

Twenty. Fucking. Years.

He needs to sit down, now. He's gonna fall if he doesn't, and the floor right now is a safety hazard. He finds the nearest chair and pretty much collapses on it, making a sound that almost makes him think he broke it.

Everything is spinning. His vision is not focused, and he cannot for his life stand up. He's stuck sitting on that chair until the world stops the centrifuge cycle.

Stuck.

It shouldn't be a surprise to him that he's now spent that much time in Gravity Falls, and yet... It hits him so much harder that he would've expected. Usually, he'd try to push any such thought away; he learned very early on (back in his homeless days) that ruminating on how long he'd been on his own was never a good thing. It only brought him pain and many, many sleepless nights. Instead, he'd just tell himself that he was just getting closer to his goal. His big break. The moment he'd win enough money to prove to his dad that he was wrong. That his stupid son, the extra Stan, was actually worth something. That he was worth coming back home.

But now all of that was out the window. Well, not now, but twenty years ago. When he made a stupid fucking mistake again and sent his brother to wherever the fuck he was. When he sentenced his brother to be in his shoes: alone, scared, away from home. Presumed dead-

The sob hardly catches him off-guard. It's all too much: too much time, too unfocused, too hopeless, too alone. It doesn't take long (or any time at all really) for many other sobs and whimpers to echo around the empty kitchen, filling the ever-familiar silence that permeates every single room of that house. Too much silence, for too long. How much more is he going to endure? How long until he completely gives up? Or rather, his body does? If twenty years had already passed by, what was keeping another twenty to do the same? God that was-

"Mr. Pines?"

The voice feels like a slap in the face. It isn't enough to focus his vision or make the weight on his chest disappear, but it definitely succeeds in waking him up. Instinctively, he grabs the knife he was going to use to cut the bread and looks around. Now that he thinks about it, the voice sounded high-pitched, almost like a child. Was he having some sort of flashback, or a hallucination? It wouldn't be the first time, but he isn't drunk or sleep-deprived enough for that. That he knows.

"Mr. Pines!" The voice sounded clearer this time, and louder too. It came from outside the kitchen window, that's for sure.

He doesn't move yet. He knows he heard it, but knowing what lurks in this town, and considering his head is still spinning from the breakdown and the sudden adrenaline, standing up seems like a mildly bad idea.

He hears some commotion outside, like some furniture being moved around or something. But that's impossible, it came from outside. Also, now that he thinks about it, that voice sounded a lot like-

"Knock-knock", the voice says out loud, while actually knocking on the glass window.

Now he's sure.

Wait, what the hell is he doing here?!

Stan stands up a little faster than he should have, but it's alright: still dizzy, but manageable. He goes up to the window and opens the lock. A pair of shiny eyes and a tooth-gaped smile greet him.

"Good evening, Mr. Pines!"

Stan stares dumbfounded at the child in front of him.

"That's good night to you, kid, it's..." he looks at the watch on his wrist. "Almost 11 p.m." He opens his eyes when the realization hits him. "Wait, what the f...udge are you doing here? Why aren't you at home?"

"Abuelita is with some friends tonight."

"And? You still have to be home, ya know?"

"I wanted to stay more. In the last tour of the day you always tell funny horror stories and I wanted to listen to it."

"Yes, I do that because children are supposed to be home by that time. Why aren't ya?"

"There's no bus this late on Saturdays. I forgot."

Stan tilts his head. This kid is as nonchalant as he's dense. Are all kids like this?

"Are you okay, Mr. Pines?"

The question takes him by surprise.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're all red and puffy. And you're still crying."

"I'm not crying."

"I heard you. That's why I climbed the wall."

Maybe the kid isn't as dense as he thinks.

"I'm just sweating."

"Through your eyes?"

"You'll understand when you grow up."

"Old people don't cry?"

"I'm not old, and I'm not crying."

"You look like me when I cry."

Stan opens his mouth to answer, but closes it. For how little he knows about this kid, he definitely knows he shouldn't go there. That damn Abuelita would probably kill him.

"Can I come in? I'm cold."

Stan takes a moment to evaluate the situation: he's basically on a staring context with a ten?-year-old, except that child is just a floating head through a window. Also, the kid's outside of his house, and it's nighttime. It isn't even cold out, but what does he know about that?

"Yeah, sure. Just... go to the front door, I'll open it."

"Okay!"

Stan hears a couple of metallic steps before a jump, and he realizes that the kid was standing on the trash container that is usually a couple of feet away from the window. Was that the "moving furniture around" noise that he heard? That little bastard is for sure resourceful.

Also, did he do that just because he heard him cry? God, that's embarrassing.

A knock on the door. He's fast, too.

Stan leaves the knife on the counter drawer and puts on his robe. He's still in a dirty white tank top and some underpants, and he'd open the door like that if it were for him, but it still feels weird. Let's at least pretend he still gives a shit.

He goes to the door and opens it. Even though he sees him every other day, it still surprises him how short this kid is for being 10. Was he that short at his age? He doesn't think so. That boy will probably grow up to be like 5'6", no more.

"Don't take off your shoes, it's fine", he quickly says as he watches the kid reach for his feet. "How long have you been outside? Since the last tour?"

The boy nods.

"So like two hours. Alrigh'" Stan pinches his nose. Was this kid here the whole time he was working on the portal downstairs? God he was an idiot for not noticing. "Have you had dinner?"

The boy shakes his head.

"Okay. You like ham and cheese sandwiches?" Another nod, this one way more enthusiastic. "Alright, come in. Don't run though, there's some broken glass on the kitchen I have to clean up."

"I can clean it up if you want. I'm very good with the broom. I broom my house. Abuelita says I'm very good at it."

"Nah, don't worry. Just follow me so you don't step on the glass."

"Okay."

They both make their way into the kitchen. Stan makes a sign to the kid to sit on the table, which is thankfully opposite to the mess he made a few minutes ago. While the kid does as told, he goes into the broom closet. When he comes back, broom in hand, he looks at the kid's dangling feet on the air. They're nowhere near the floor. 5'5", tops.

"So, your Abuelita isn't home?"

"No, she's helping out some friends. I don't know where she is."

"And she didn't tell you to be home by dinner?"

"She did. She left me some food, but I know she's not going to be home. Also I wanted to listen to the last tour."

Stan scoffs as he takes the knife out of the drawer again. "You really like the tours, huh?"

"Yes! They're so fun!" The kid's voice sounds even higher. "And sometimes you invent new ones, and I love them. Where do you get the ideas?"

"I don't know, they just pop up, really. I'm good at improvising, I guess."

"You should totally come to Storytelling Day at my school! And tell us some scary stories."

A soft chuckle escapes Stan's mouth. "Yeah, I'm not sure about that. I don't think your teachers would like the stories very much."

"I'd like it. Also, I could finally choose the story. I never can." He says in a sad voice.

"Why not?" Stan's mind immediately goes to his own school days. Is this kid being bullied?

"I'm not good at reading. And usually the storytellers are parents, and Abuelita is very busy. So I can't choose the story."

Stan stays silent. He knows just enough about this kid to put two and two together, and he doesn't like the result. If he lives with his grandma and his parents don't even live in the town, they're either trying hard to make some money, cowards, or dead.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Reading stories out loud is overrated. You think I wanna hear Patrick from accounting read a book he hasn't opened in 40 years? Nah. Boring." He places the sandwich, not finished, on a frying pan. Slightly toasted buns will do wonders for the flavor. "Trust me, if you want some good stories, just make them up yourself. That's how you get the story that you want."

"But I'm not good at talking to people. When they're all looking at me, it's scary. I don't want to look dumb."

Stan sighs to himself. He's had this conversation before. Nope, don't think about that.

"Look, kid. Sometimes you're scared. It's normal. Everyone is."

"Are you scared, Mr. Pines?"

Stan flips the sandwich carefully. This kid asks too much. That's what kids do, after all.

"Yeah, sometimes. Not of talking to others, but yeah. I'm scared sometimes."

What if he doesn't fix... what if the police... what if Ford...?

"But fear is what makes us move forward. If you're always scared, then you won't do anything ever. And sometimes fear is a good thing, it protects us. But sometimes it's just a liability."

"What's that?"

"A liability? Something that... stops you from doing things."

"Like a red light?"

"Sure, like a red light."

"The red lights are scary."

"Sometimes. But traffic lights aren't always red. They can be yellow, or green. Do you know how traffic lights work?"

"They change colors, and they make the cars go and stop."

"Yeah, kind of." Stan turns off the stove. He takes the sandwich from the pan and puts it on a plate. He turns around and walks to the table, placing the dish in front of the boy.

"It looks so good! Thanks!" he says before grabbing the sandwich and biting into it. He was definitely hungry.

"No worries", Stan says. He sits down and looks at the kid for a couple of seconds before he speaks again. "The thing about traffic lights is, they don't make the cars move or stop. They are just a sign, the cars move on their own. You understand that?"

The kid swallows a big bite of the sandwich before answering politely: "Yes."

"Fear is just that. A sign. If you see a red light, you're scared of it, so you stop. And that's good, because then the other cars can move without problems. See?" Stan is using his hands to try and gesture a crossing. To his luck, he kids nods. "The problem is when the light is yellow. Do you know what the yellow light is?"

"No."

"It means you have to be careful, but you can move. So when the light is yellow, you can be a little scared, but you have to keep moving. You understand?" Another nod, this one a little more hesitant. "When you're scared, you need to figure out if the light is red or yellow. For example, if you're in a very high place and you look down, it's scary, right?"

"Yes."

"That's good fear. You're scared to fall, and that's good, because if you fall you can get hurt. So, because of the fear, you move away from the high place."

"Like when I was in the falls. It was very high and I was scared I could fall into the water."

"Exactly, that's good fear. Fear that makes you safe." Stan makes a mental note not to judge this child again. He's not dense at all. "The other fear, the yellow light, is different. It's when you're scared of doing things because of the "what ifs"."

"What's that?"

"Imagine you're doing some math problems in front of the whole class, and you think "what if I make this problem wrong?" What's the worst that could happen?"

"They... laugh at me."

"Eeeehh, error. The worst thing that could happen is that a meteor crashes and destroys the school. See? That's the worst thing that could happen."

"I... I guess?"

"What I mean is, you can think "what if...?" all you want, but the reality is, you won't know unless ya try. Maybe you'll do a great job and you didn't even expect it! Or maybe you'll do the math problem wrong! Who cares? The important thing is that you saw the yellow light, stopped for a second and then decided to carry on. That's what you have to do. Always carry on."

The last part comes out quieter than the rest, and Stan knows. The kid probably noticed too.

"You understand that?"

"Yes, I think so." The kid finishes his sandwich, thinking for a moment. "So, do you think I should try reading on Storytelling Day?"

"Yeah, of course! You can practice reading in your house if you want too. So you're more comfortable or something when you do the real thing."

"...okay."

A few seconds pass, in which Stan reflects on what he just told the kid. He didn't think much about it, he acted on instinct. It's been a while since he had to give a pep talk to anyone. He just hopes he was better at explaining himself this time around.

The kid rises his head to meet Stan's eyes. Immediately, he shoots him a flashing smile. Even his eyes seem to glow a little.

"Okay, I'll do it!"

Stan rises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah! But I need to ask Abuelita to help me with the reading, I need practice."

"Can't you make some story up? Instead of reading a book. Ya know, write something and invent the rest as you go. That's how I do it."

The kid scratches his chin like he's thinking. Stan thinks it's kinda cute; he probably picked that up from some cartoon.

"I can do that, yeah. If I have it in my head, I don't need to read it. I can do it like theater, like you do!"

Stan smiles. "Yeah, you can do that. Just don't use any of my stories, ya might steal some clients from me."

"Okay! I'll make something up then. Maybe a monster in the falls! That lives behind the water, in a cave! And you can only go if you follow me, because I'm the guide! I know where the monster is!" The kid is now standing on the floor, flailing his arms, trying to explain his story. "And the monster is good, but he's shy! But he can take photos with the people, because he's a cool guy. Cool monster!"

"Okay, okay, I think you have your idea. And see? It took you no time to come up with one. I think you'll do just fine", Stan says, putting his hand on the kid's shoulder.

The kid's smile grows impossibly bigger. Without notice, he lauches himself into Stan's arms, hugging him tight while he's still sat down. Stan instinctively puts an arm around him, hugging him back. God he's tiny. 5'4", no more.

"Thank you, Mr. Pines."

"No worries, kid." Stan could cry —or rather, sweat through his eyes— again. He doesn't want to think about it much, but he knows deep down he needed that hug. Probably just as much as the boy himself.

He stays like that, sidehugging the kid, until the little man decides to let go. Stan won't admit it to his own shadow, but the emptiness that follows that move is overwhelming.

"Okay, no more talking, I need to take ya home. I don't want to suffer the wrath of your Abuelita."

The kid chuckles: "She's nice, she's not scary. Except when she takes the chancla."

"Yeah, I've had a couple of chanclazos in the past. Not looking forward to it. Go to the door and wait for me at the register. I'm gonna put on some clothes."

"Okay."

***

The drive to Abuelita's house is short and peaceful. It's summer, so the night isn't as dark as it could be, and there's still a couple of cars and people out. It is, by all means, a nice summer night.

Stan parks the car right in front of the door. The house is dark, and the blinds are open; Abuelita is probably not home yet. He turns to the kid on his right.

"Alright you rascal, time to go home. Next time, make sure to remember the last bus. I don't want your grandma to have a heart attack."

"Okay." The kid says, without a care in the world. Then, suddenly: "Are you feeling better, Mr. Pines?"

"What?"

"From the crying before. Or, the sweating through the eyes. Are you okay?"

Shouldn't ten-year-olds be a little stupid? Maybe this child won't be tall, but he's too goddamn smart.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just- the glass I broke, it was my favorite", he blurts out.

"Aww, I'm sorry, Mr. Pines. You can have one of mine if you want."

"Nah, don't worry, kid. I'll buy another one. But, ehm, thank you. For the offer."

"Of course!"

"Okay, go home now. You have the key, right?"

The kid slips his hand in the collar of his shirt and pulls out a little key he has on a piece of string around his neck. He nods.

"Great, then come on. Go in and tell your Abuelita you're sorry you didn't eat her food, but you had dinner. Do not lie to her, huh?"

"Never!"

"Good kid. Up top." He puts his hand up. The kid enthusiastically high-fives him. "Nice strength. Now go home, come on."

"Thank you, Mr. Pines."

"You're welcome, kid."

The little man opens the door and steps out of the car. Stan watches as he walks away towards the house. It looks pretty, with some flowers on the windowsills, but very dark. It seems clear to him that the house is very empty.

God, don't think about it. Don't. Do not-

"Hey, Soos!"

Idiot.

"Yes?"

"If you write your story and read it on Storytelling Day, I'll go with you to the next one."

"REALLY!?"

"Shhh, quiet down, you're gonna wake up the whole town. Yes, I will, BUT don't start writing now. Now ya get some sleep. Tomorrow you can start it."

"Okay! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Okay, okay, settle down. I'll see you at the Shack, okay? Good luck with the story."

"Okay! Goodnight, Mr. Pines."

"'Night, kid."

Great job, you knucklehead. Now you have to do some theater at a school for free.

It should bother him more that it currently does, to be completely honest. But the smile on the kid's face was... He doesn't know how to explain it, but it was something. Something big, and good. It was nice to see, and much nicer to be the cause.

On the drive home, Stan stops as a crossroad. He looks up, absentmindedly, and chuckles to himself.

Yellow light. Carry on.

[vonlipvig]

[sighs peacefully] the great ace attorney........

this could be recency bias, but people weren't kidding when they said tgaa chronicles were the best games in the aa series. cases 3, 4, and 5 in the second game managed to completely leave me in awe at several moments. even with the first kokoro case being my least favorite, there are still things i like about it. i believe the cases being inspired by (if not explicitly adapting) holmes stories is a point in its favor. like the first game, i still felt some pacing issues, but i don't mind them as much this time because there were less of them And the story was more than engaging enough that i can ignore them 🙂‍↕️

alongside apollo, ryunosuke is now definitely my favorite defense attorney, and one of my favorite aa characters overall. he is so earnestly human, it hurts. i also really like that unlike most other characters we play as, the reason why he wants to even be a lawyer starts to shift after kazuma's return as a prosecutor. even without the shipping lens, the asoryu dynamic makes go insane (compliment). however, i find how ryunosuke interacts with other character like susato and his internal monologues to be equally interesting. truly the guy of all time

now with case 5 specifically, i kinda got gant vibes from stronghart for a while, but of all the things that made it 100% click, it was stronghart's freakyass clapping animation. even though i feel that gant has the stronger personality of the two, i also like stronghart not because of his actual character, but of what he represents: the general idea of going way too far to achieve a goal made in good faith. stronghart imo was already pretty out there with him wanting to be attorney general that bad, but i don't think the whole "assassin exchange" and "framing an innocent japanese man for several murders to protect a british noble" things were day 1 plans. though, it says a lot about him that he didn't just. consider Not Doing All That, but at least it made his downfall all the more satisfying

uuuh, i've talked about just about every other major character before except for barok, so let's end it here. i was expecting not to care about him at first. i held that opinion throughout the first game i think because he gets explored more thoroughly in the second. for me, a token tragic prosecutor backstory(tm) hasn't felt more Real to me besides edgeworth, franziska, and nahyuta's (and maybe godot's to a lesser extent). with van zieks, it obviously doesn't excuse his racism of course, but i at least Get why he is the way he is. as wild as aa plots are, i really like that his whole ordeal is depressingly realistic. i also like that he doesn't magically become antiracist at the end. if there's ever a 3rd gaa game in the same timeline, i would kill to see how he and ryunosuke act together outside of court. would be really interesting, i think 👀

and yeah, that's it! bittersweet feeling of not having another game to react to now. fortunately, with the franchise being almost as old as i am, there's still a lot of other aa media to look forward to in the downtime. i'd be so excited if we get a new game within the next few years, though. i'm content without one, but professor layton has a new game releasing this year, so really, anything is possible :D

welcome to the club, erlande. tgaa [sighs wistfully].

i totally agree with you, the same thing pretty much happened to me once i finished the game. those last three cases were exciting and surprising and truly managed to tug at my heartstrings as well, just an incredible game all around. and true, tgaa2 flows a lot better than tgaa1--which by itself is a bit clunky--but once you see it all as a whole, it very much shines. and absolutely, the holmes inspo worked incredibly well with the ace attorney universe!

GREAT taste, ryuno was such an amazing character! i always tend to love the protags, and he's no exception. and you're so right, i love me some shipping, but that's like, just one facet of all the incredible relationships he develops with the characters around him. him and susato have such a sweet bond as well, i love their friendship too!

personally, i think stronghart might be my least favorite part of the game, but like......i still think he's such a fun character, and as you said, his motivations and faults make him super interesting. this game is just woking on such a high level overall lmao. but yeah, loveeee an ends justifies the means kinda guy :)

BAROK--btw did you see that moment in case 3 were ryuno and iris are in barok's office and they're kinda just roasting his ass, all while he's there like.......guys. very funny--WHAT A GUY. agreed, i wouldn't say he's my fave prosecutor (miles and franziska to me are just MWAH my faves), but once you hit game 2 he really starts to feel like a real person and less like an evil vampire prosecutor (well, there's still a bit of that lmao). honestly, i kinda love that they don't shy away from racism in this game, just like they don't shy away from suicide and other difficult topics. it feels real, makes him seem more like a flawed human than a mere character, and the fact that it doesn't just magically disappear and will likely take some time for him to unlearn is a pretty good choice. would loveeeee an investigations sort of game with the london crew post tgaa2, it would be soooo cool.

but yeah, you're all caught up now! you're ready to join us all with the clown makeup and the fake clown titties for the next nintendo direct for the annual aa7 manifestation lmao.

[chaifootsteps]

I realized something about Ozzie's. most of the reason the episode worked and feels like it's one of three best episodes of HB (the other being truth seekers and harvest moon maybe coming in third) was because it seemed like it was paying off the plot that had been set up in season 1 to that point - Blitzo taking his stalking of M&M too far, Blitzo being confronted with the fact that his new life was pretty empty of any real bonds or intimacy despite his attempts to form them and Stolas reaping what he'd sown in regards to Blitzo not trusting he would ever want anything but sex.

but then you realize that Viv isn't capable of writing payoffs or conflicts competently, so moments that feel like a status quo change - M&M feeling like Blitzo has gone too far, Stolas&Blitzo's "relationship" being exposed in a prominent Hell club - have no consequences whatsoever. the same is true of Truth Seekers in hindsight - Blitzo hasn't changed his treatment to Moxxie in any substantial way (look at how he yells at him in exes and ohs and insults him pretty brutally in unhappy campers) since they both promised they'd try and work on it, and it's been what? like nearly ten episodes since then?

The same is true with Stolas & Blitzo. it felt like it worked so well in Ozzie's because it was paying off a season's worth of setup of Stolas using and demeaning Blitzo, and Blitzo being unable to put up with it any longer when Stolas suddenly acts like he has romantic intentions. but from what I remember Viv liked a tweet where someone said the moment was just 'Blitzo being annoyed Stolas tried to act romantic after the fact [when he didn't stand up for him in the club]'. And that's a legitimate thing for Blitzo to be annoyed about but not only was the scene very much not written that way ("don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you. you make that really clear, all the time") but it's a far weaker argument scene if so and a complete waste of the setup.

and in hindsight it's also clear that even if Viv had written the scene at the time to call Stolas out, her intentions for the argument in season 2 are much different - to end the Full Moon deal, not by making Stolas do any actual character development but just by retrofitting New Perfect Stolas onto the antagonist we started out with and acting like he meaningfully changed, when no one in this show ever meaningfully changes (closest they've managed is Blitz&Fizz making up, but Blitzo didn't do a whole lot to repair that relationship and was barely written as being in the wrong to begin with). I'll be surprised if the argument comes up in the Full Moon episode at all, especially since the show already half-assed a payoff to it in the form of Stolas' on screen for one second manipulative non-apology via text - they'll probably just beeline to holding Blitzo responsible for Stolas sexually coercing him and also for Stolas being the one to fail to protect his own magical grimoire properly

It's true, isn't it? Ozzie's was, in a lot of ways, that last shining moment of hope for the writing in the series. It felt like things coming together, like Viv finding her feet.

It wasn't.

[misc-obeyme]

In-Game?

Okay next in the daily chat series is this one featuring Leviathan!

"But CC," you may be saying, "didn't you already post a daily chat story with Levi?"

Yes, I did a while ago. But then I deleted it. So if you saw that and were confused, I'm sorry! The problem is Levi lol. No, but seriously, I didn't like how that story turned out, so I decided to delete it and try again with a different chat. I find I sometimes have trouble writing Levi's character and honestly I think it's because his anxiety really hits close to home?? I mean, in the game, it's really not that bad. He just gets nervous sometimes when MC gets romantic and out in crowds of normies lol. But I've been dealing with anxiety (social anxiety specifically) for my entire life, so I tend to overthink it when I write a character with a similar affliction. I think I write the character's anxiety more like my own, which makes it feel too OOC to me. BUT I think I did okay this time, so here it is, attempt number two!

GN!MC x Leviathan

Warnings: none!

LEVIATHAN: Where did I go wrong? For Memory Kiss 2. Ugh, I got the bad ending.

MC: Want to replay it together?

LEVIATHAN: Sure! I just need Suzu-chan's happy ending… … and Shiro-chan's true ending. When you come, bring some drinks. Thanks!

It had all been going just fine. You had brought a few cans of devil crush super spicy mango juice to Levi's room. He had already started up the game Memory Kiss 2, prepared to play through it with you.

You just hadn't anticipated how awkward playing a dating sim together had the potential to be. Now you were sitting next to Levi on the floor of his room, blushing to your roots as the character on the screen swooned at one of your suggested dialogue options. You were both surprised that this option had worked.

Moments ago, Levi had expressed his doubt about it. "That line's just too flirty!" he said. "Suzu-chan will probably be offended that you're being so bold!"

"No way," you disagreed. "It's a great line."

"Why do you think that?" Levi asked.

"It would work on me," you said.

Levi had spluttered at you, unable to respond properly to this revelation. Despite his anxiety at what you just said, he managed to choose the dialogue option in question.

You both watch in stunned silence as Suzu-chan reacted with a multitude of little hearts.

You were embarrassed now because you actually thought Levi was right. It was an overly flirty option. But sometimes it was nice to hear something bold, something that left no room for uncertainty, something that indicated the person you were talking to wasn't just slightly interested, but actually wanted you.

The fact that this video game character seemed to agree with that assessment was pretty embarrassing.

"Y-you were right," Levi managed to say.

You cleared your throat and tried to brush it off. "Of course I was right," you said.

Levi put down his controller. He wouldn't look at you. "B-but you're nothing like Suzu-chan," he said. "And you said…"

"I know what I said," you interrupted, mostly because you didn't think you could stand it if he repeated what you had said. "Suzu-chan is a video game character, Levi. She has a programmed personality. Real people are more complicated. And I… well, I…"

Levi turned to you suddenly, grabbing both of your hands and squeezing them. He still couldn't quite look you in the eye. "Do you want me to start staying stuff like that? This sort of… Asmo-like stuff?!"

You laughed. "I don't know if I could take you seriously if you tried doing that."

Levi drooped a little. "Yeah, it would be more funny than anything, huh?"

"I just want you to be yourself, Levi," you said, watching him smile and blush at this comment.

You let go of his hands and picked up the controller. You had a feeling about what was coming next in the game, so you pressed through some of the remaining dialogue until a new set of options came up.

You selected one of the options, letting the game highlight it without actually choosing it yet. You put the controller back in Levi's hands.

"I want this from you far more than any flirty line," you said softly into his ear, leaning in close to him.

Levi froze at first, his eyes on the screen. You had highlighted the option that said only kiss me.

But then he seemed to gather up his confidence. He hit the button on the controller, choosing to kiss the character, who reacted with a sweet little kiss sound. But Levi wasn't looking at the screen anymore. The controller was abandoned on the floor as his arms circled around your waist, pulling you close.

You could tell that he was still nervous - a slight shake in his touch, the light blush on his cheeks, the way he kept his eyes closed - but he still leaned in to press his lips to yours.

Levi always started off timid, but with a little encouragement, he lost himself enough to let go of that anxiety. So you kissed him back, putting your arms around him and clutching onto his shirt as you pulled him closer to you.

Sure enough, this was all Levi needed. His response was to become needy, arms tightening around you, his movements more desperate, even a gentle nip at your bottom lip.

You pulled away just enough to whisper in his ear. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you like this. What about the game?"

Levi made a low noise in his throat, half groan, half growl. "MC, for once I don't care about the game. Right now, real life is way better."

You laughed because this actually meant a lot coming from Levi. You kissed him again and he was ready for you, both of you losing yourselves in each other while Suzu-chan displayed on the screen, forgotten.

others in this series:

Mammon | Barbatos | Solomon | Lucifer | Simeon

Asmodeus | Diavolo | Beelzebub | Belphegor | Satan

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[pancake-breakfast]

Finished Day 8 of Disco Elysium, and with it, the game.

Spoilers abound.

I was initially very excited about free hostel room and board, but since I ended up finishing the game that night, I guess I didn't really need it anymore, anyway.

Eugene will be a great choice of leader for the Hardie Boys 2.0. Such as they are. Since we managed to get dirt on Evrart by the end of the game, they might even have a chance of doing something beautiful there.

Talked to everyone and then went straight to the island. I still had a handful of quests open, but didn't have the skillset to progress them. If/when I play this game again, I think I'll tighten up my skills. I kinda spread the points all over the place.

Took a much-needed nap in the bunker. Met Dolores Dei. This game, once again, reminds me that I'm MUCH more inclined to pick myself up and move on from things than Harry. Things can still linger, as old wounds do, but there are so many new memories to make and new paths to take. Wallowing in a past that won't change just gets you passed up by time.

I really wish I'd put "unknown assailant" on my suspect list, 'cause I had absolutely figured it might be someone unrelated to all the obvious paths, and someone I hadn't met. I'm just gonna pretend this guy is that mysterious "janitor." Hells, maybe he told people he was.

I love Kim, but goshdarn, my boi is too quick to pull his gun on mentally unstable people. Because that's going to make things better.

I finally got the Communist achievement when talking to the Traitor. Took me the whole game, but we got there. I say that as if I was trying for it, which I wasn't... but maybe I'll write more on that later.

Kim also asked the Traitor if he'd used his gun to kill people after the war, but that was a dumb question. The guy's already tried to surrender to us as a POW. For him, the war never ended.

Can't say I disagree with this guy about the class war never ending. It's more like it goes through lulls. It only really takes one corrupt person being given enough power for everything to start snowballing into an Us vs. Them situation, as the powerful person finds an excuse (or sometimes a legitimate reason... but usually an excuse) to abuse their power and thus creates space for more and more oppressors at the top.

It took me an hour and a half to get through the conversation with the Traitor.

AND THEN SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL HAPPENED JUST LIKE I WROTE ON THE WALL!! The phasmid. It was the phasmid. I was almost as excited to see it as I was the one time I found one in the wild in real life.

The Insulindian Miracle thought processed at some point when I was interacting with the phasmid, and when I saw the notification, my first thought was, "You're right, game! It IS a miracle! Phasmid is miracle."

Unfortunately, I scared it off and we weren't able to get a picture, but what a beautiful moment in the game! I looked up a video of the conversation later and that is also beautiful, but in different ways.

The cryptozoologists REALLY need a bigger trap if they want to catch that thing. And maybe some tasty reeds rather than locust.

You know, when I think "death squad," I definitely don't think of a person like Trant. Actually, now that we've been acquainted, I think Ruby might have been a bit paranoid. Just a bit.

I was very worried my Emotional Support Kim would wander off instead of simply taking a step back during my conversation with the death squad. I'm glad he didn't, and even stepped in to defend me.

I got diagnosed as being a staunch Moralist and also a Communist somehow. But that probably ties directly into Kim's observation that, for someone who has such strong Moralist beliefs, my actions don't always line up with their "hands off, slow progression" tactics. This doesn't surprise me, though. Living one's life in a detached, mostly hands-off manner isn't always practical. Sometimes you need to get involved. Someone has to instigate those slow changes, and sometimes the people you are looking out for need to know you're willing to act for them. And my actions (though not my words, I guess) probably lined up more with Communism, even though, as the game clearly illustrates, there are inevitably problems with that, too. (I was talking with a friend about this and she was like, "Your politics are basically the whole platform Bernie Sanders runs on.")

Kim also said I was not a very good cop but an excellent detective and good with people. When I started this game, I thought Espirit de Corps was gonna be problematic, but it was actually Authority, and I regularly didn't assert cop-like authority in situations. So that checks out. I think it's generally better to get people to want to tell you things than to intimidate them into telling you things. But that's just science. You intimidate them enough, and they'll just tell you what they think you want to hear regardless of its veracity.

Kim also noted how I'd been clean the whole week, and had only goofed off to sing karaoke. (I'd also spent a lot of time trying to set up a club in a church, but I mostly did that without Kim.) This garnered a compliment from Jean for me. Take that, Jean!

(I know "Satellite" Jean was only promoted because Harry was. And he knows that, too. He's probably bitter that he's having to take the reigns, among many other things.)

They took me back via unanimous vote. Apparently, staying clean both chemically and as far as third-party entanglements really won over Jean, and he helped Harry into the car as we headed out.

And yes, we had Kim in tow. Not gonna let go of that one.

The End!

[harlequinoccult]

thank you for explaining the caustic personality!! honestly Vulpine might as well have caustic as his main w apathetic tendencies instead, ig ill find out when the demo is updated XD both personality types fit him too well. honestly he's not that aggressive as a person, he's actually mostly quite polite, but he does have a tendency to stare. the ones who really get to see his aggressive side are the people he dislikes (Host better fucking prepare himself-)

well i figured i'd just finish what i started, and continue on my never-ending ramble. usually i like making Ariel an orphan, it's a bit of a callback to his roots and it fits him, but this time i think the second option i usually go for him fits best: single child of a single mother. she's the only family he has that he knows of, a very loving, religious and hard working lady who was shunned from the community for getting pregnant out of wedlock. the very first fights Ari would get into in his childhood were against kids who would say some unsavory shit abt his mom. having a mother who was blindly dedicated to the same church that constantly made her suffer for the mistake of having a kid without a husband also played a very big part into Ariel becoming an atheist and rebelling against the church in his teen years.

she was p absent as a parent, having to work p much the whole day to be able to support them both, but she tried her best the moments when she was present, and Ari recognizes that and loves her dearly. he started stealing things and got his first job quite young to try to help her pay the bills.

he got arrested when he was around 18 yo, probably getting caught on one of his "heists", trying to steal from the richer houses around, and he hasn't seen her since then. his time in prison was... bad. really fucking bad. the worst, lowest point of his life, in fact.

i have no idea how the legal system works in england and i have no desire to learn, but for what's worth he is caught trying to escape at least once, and spends 2 miserable years in there until he finally manages to leave.

did he actually complete his sentence? lol. lmao.

no. no he didn't. be it by a month, a year, a day, the important thing is he didn't.

is Ariel Fox even his real name? i doubt it. that would be stupid wouldn't it, illegally immigrating to a different country after escaping from prison and using your real ass name to do it, he's smarter than that.

fun fact abt Ari: he does not want to go back to prison. he'll kill himself before they have the chance to catch him.

on a... "unrelated" note, the reason why Carter managed to wrap such a tight leash on Ariel is bc he learned smth he shouldn't have and he's holding that little secret right over his head. im sure you can't possibly guess what he found out that would make Ariel put up w his shit the way he did-

so the fact that Ari ends up in this city (i forgor the name and i can't leave the askbox to check or ill lose everything i typed 😭) is honestly not rlly much of a surprise, nor is the fact that he's p much alone despite living there for years. he's always been a bit of an outcast, a loner, someone who avoids people on purpose. he hasn't seen his mom since he left england, but he looks her up every once in a while. debates whether he should call her. decides it's for the best that he doesn't.

he starts over. new life, new me, or whatever the hell people say. starts off already with shifty connections, he needs a fake identity and a fake birth certificate and a fake everything if he has any hope of passing by unscathed, after all. needs to lay low. not call too much attention. be a nobody. wait until things calm down a bit.

he stays at least a year living like that, settling in, subduing his accent until he can pass it off as having learned it from a family member or some other bullshit. applies for university. becomes just another american college student.

meets someone.

falls in love.

has them taken from him. has his entire life destroyed. again. needs to try to pick himself up. again. is struck with such crippling grief unlike anything he has ever felt before. it's almost as bad as the two worst years of his life.

almost.

he's never letting anything like that happen to him ever again.

anyway! as mentioned before, he was working on getting a doctorate when Carter came along, and he sort of had to drop out after that, to the dismay of his teachers. what was he getting a doctorate on? honestly p much anything would be in-character for Ariel, he's an everything nerd, from language to history to engineering to biology that man wants to know quite literally everything the world has to offer him. his infodumps are the most complete and varied possible, he's a walking talking encyclopedia.

he's an extremely paranoid person who overthinks everything including his own overthinking and really, if nothing else here's to hoping that OD can at least teach him to loosen up a bit-

he never enjoyed doing drugs very much, despite partaking in them quite often in his youth. he's way more likely to experience a bad trip than a good one, so he learned to stay away from them as much as possible, but alcohol and nicotine were a completely different story. he's still addicted to nicotine to this day, the one drug he allows himself to never let go. he was an alcoholic through a big chunk of his life, until someone did Very Bad Things to him when he was too drunk to be able to fight back. that experience just flipped a switch inside of him, it broke him badly enough to make him promise himself to never touch another drop of alcohol in his life, a promise he did very well by until Carter killed his beloved and he had the worst relapse of his life. he's back to being a straight edge now tho, its fine! its not fine

he has immense distaste for the cops of the city, but part of him is kinda grateful that they're so bad at their job or else he would be Fucked. he absolutely despised doing work for Carter, even after he became so numb to it all it made him want to tear his own heart out just to make sure it was still beating. i cannot stress enough how much he suffered inside at the start, part of the reason he started drinking again was to try to ignore how much all of it hurt. at least he could try to make sure Carter didn’t kill innocents. he couldn't really be sure every time, but he tried. he really did.

he probably tried killing Carter at least once. or thought abt it, at the very least. made plans. had it all figured out in his head, down to the last detail, how he would do it and get away with it. ngl, he was probably on the verge of putting it into action when Host sent him that email and just gave him the perfect chance to do it just like that-

as a killer, Vulpine is very much the stealthy type, hiding in the shadows, walking withouth making a sound. if its a group, he'll pick them off one by one, until someone notices and all hell breaks loose or until all of them are dead. if he's forced to kill someone he doesn't think deserves it, he's merciful. very quick, clean deaths, going straight for the vitals, almost painless. if it's someone he thinks deserves to suffer, however... well, he's always been curious to know what a human vivisection would look like.

truth is, he's a sadist. well, a sadomasochist really, but he gets off on making people suffer, and he hates it. he especially hates the fact that hurting the person he loves is such a tantalizing thought. marking them blue and black, covering them in red, it's not really his fault blood is such a beautiful thing, is it? and if his lover wants to do the same to him, well, he's more than happy to oblige. anything for his love. except bondage. getting tied up/held down is actually a pretty bad trigger for him, he hates it, no matter the context

ok well i think that's everything! thanks for indulging me!!

-🦊

The ask is somewhere around here, i know it, but with caustic mcs, Carter assumed they were all bark and no bite. Fitting, i think.

And, given everything, OD is a fitting match, they like learning and they are smart -in their own way- the drugs and partying is for themselves, they aren't the type to pressure people into drugs, in fact, they can and will tell you about the various side effects of any given drug because they think its legitimately interesting.

[lovely-in-pink-shifting]

So I've been wanting to journal more often! Specifically about my DR and the stuff that happens in it (from my perspective duh) but that can get kinda tricky right? Realistically trying to manage your real life and plot out another life can be overwhelming (It is for me at least!)

Well I've been thinking up some solutions! Okay, more like my therapist suggested I just look up some prompts to journal with (Who would've guessed my simple problem needed a simple solution? Occam's razor or whatever)

But as I expected I was met with just general lifestyle stuff and as someone who already MOSTLY has a script I didn't feel the need to look up "Shifting journal prompts" because I assumed I'd be met with "How to script 101" and stuff like that.

So I figured if I wanted to write about my DR life why not look up some prompts and try to twist them around a bit to work from the perspective of my DR? So here are some DR journaling prompts I thought of real quick!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ What have you been doing in your DR recently? What are your goals?

♡ What have you been having trouble with in your DR?

♡ Who have you been confiding in a lot in your DR?

♡ What do you think you'll do after you've completed your current goal?

♡ Who do you wanna spend time with more often?

♡ Any new hobbies? New favorite songs to dance to? New favorite foods to share with people?

♡ Any new friends? Or a surprise ally in an old foe?

♡ Any new places to explore?

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Here are some prompts I fished up on Pinterest in case you want to "DR-ify" them yourself! And some more thoughts under the cut!

I know a lot of people like to "Live in the end" I think is the name of the concept but I'd prefer to live in the moment! Again I think there are people who prefer the end, no shade to them but I find myself longing for a moment to moment life with my loved ones in my DR/DRs (Yes and I'm such a wreck I can't decide if it's multiple or not but pay no mind to the fact I'm insane-)

I didn't fish too deep into Pinterest for these but I liked them, I'm also posting this so I can have these on both phones and look at them and go, "Hey! I should journal!" Feel? I really need to prompt myself to be more productive (pun actually unintended which is insane if you know me) I specifically like the last one, as someone with a bit of a hodgepodge DR of most things I like it's hard to decide what's "canon" or not to my DR, like I can't infofump about hypmic lore to my friends in my DR if those are ALSO people I know, feel me? (Granted I could, it'd just have to be like, generally known celebrity lore or whatever) so I wanna work on finding media I like enough to brainrot about but not enough to add onto my DR (I must sound insane if you don't have this problem)

Speaking of! At the end of this post here I think I'll indulge myself of speaking about my current hyperfixation: Hello Kitty and Sonic. Yes, really.

(If you just came for prompts THIS is your prompt to leave-)

So in my Sonic DR (I don't even know if it's a whole other DR yet, yes I'm this deranged) I'm a human girl who got trapped in a mobian body (Think Avatar logic) that was made in a mysterious experiment on the space colony ark (Yes I'm a special mary sue Sonic Oc let me live) I live on Mobius for awhile, make friends with Sonic and the gang (And a few lovers of course-) and at my job (I gotta make a living afterall) I make friends with my boss whose a former explorer, we get really close, like he considers me another daughter close. So close his REAL daughter wants to kill me and accidentally kills him (Inspired by legally blonde of course)

So I get his estate, his money, everything! And his old journals! It turns out he was investigating an island with deep hidden secrets (No I haven't decided what they are yet) And I may wanna find them before they get into someone else's hands!

We discover that Eggman WAS building a new egg lair there but after we deal with that (and a lot of paperwork from me-) the island is ours!

And... I wanna play Hello Kitty island adventure (yes that's where the Hello Kitty part comes in) I figured hey, when the game comes out on Switch this can be my little role playing as I play it! And so, yeah, that's the dumb stuff going on in my head.

I have big "I have one journal for each thing I fixate on and have four pages written in them each" itis and I KNOW I'm gonna be making like an "Explorer's log" for this DR! And if you have the same Itis as me, all I can says is: You're seen, lmao!

Needless to say feel free to just use the journal prompts as is, it is good to write about your feelings! Happy shifting and journaling everyone! ♡

[simmingwormly]

Wormville: The Next Round of Builds

...or, "it is MY mental health crisis and I get to choose my method of procrastination!"

As I'm slowly but surely working on posting worm (and also trying to work on putting my real life together, or, better yet, stop it from falling apart), I sometimes take a breather and go ham on my virtual dollhouse with bulldozers. This time, three old buildings got a reno and one popped out from the void.

The Entity's Grove

A small, misty forest (it IS misty in the neighborhood view, but I haven't figured out how to keep the mist when I load in) that hides a small grotto with a-

Actually, nevermind. There's nothing to see in the grotto. A really fucked up weird creep would've probably put a sacrificial altar there, but I'm a normal, well-adjusted Simmer with a normal, well-adjusted custom neighborhood. Anyway, something to trouble Nico in the future.

Wormville's school (rebuild)

This is the original look of the school:

And this is the new one. I decided to focus on whimsy, given that it is meant to be a space for the young. I don't have the mod that allows you to run an active school, and I don't plan on getting it (since my game is complicated enough by now), but I do send teenagers and kids with their teenage siblings here to work on skills and, of course, socialize. It's furnished way more with actual children in mind than teenagers (who are going to be the main audience for this building), but I don't think it bugs me that much. The Wormville teens do mostly live in a neverending shitstorm of drama, schemes, plague outbreaks and arsons, so I think some color and whimsy will only do them good.

Temple of the Entity

The previous design of the Temple was majestic and bulky, but most of the majesty and bulk were the decorative pyramid steps from Bon Voyage. I've decided to rebuild, since I was no longer fully satisfied with the look, especially of the interior, and we've, after all, switched priests. I thought it could be fun if the personality and values of the current high priest always impacted the way the Temple looked, so I might be rebuilding it each generation. Fun fact! This one, Avery's version, is actually not the original Temple I built when starting the save! That one is long forgotten (no screenshots...), and the only thing I remember about it was that it was fairly ugly and looked very clumsy. (sorry, Archibald)

Nico's version is much smaller, looks lighter and much, much airier, reflecting the current priest's open-minded and laid-back nature. It's still made mostly out of the same materials, but natural-looking stone and wood are way more prominent to fit Nico's push for embracing the wild and mythical.

I wouldn't say I'm 100% satisfied with the way it turned out, but I had a lot of fun and I hope it will serve its purpose. That reminds me of the actual functional parts! Unfortunately, I can't give you a comparision of the old interior, since I didn't take many screenshots there (for a good reason, may I add), so I can only hope you'll find the new one pretty enough on its own.

New temple interior

This is the main chappel. I originally wanted to cover all the grassy areas in folliage, but I got worried about restricting the movement of the Sims inside way too much. The room si relatively small and many of the pieces are diagonal, which alone is enough to make me doubt the game's pathfinding will play nice.

This is the (small) mauzoleum! (Wormville will also receive a big one in the Arcane Lake area) I'm low-key really proud of this part, because we all know how basements are in TS2, and I'm glad I've managed to add one without spilling too much blood. As for the dead who rest here, those are worms that died and got resurrected, leaving a soulless grave behind waiting for them to return one day. (at the moment, that's Regina and Lester) There are also townies and NPCs who got a bit too close to the everpresent chaos. I'm also surprised it's only so few of them, but then again, Wormville has much fewer townies than a normal hood to begin with. (only social group peeps, garden club and NPCs, with downtownies, vacation locals, turists and dormies also present in the save, but keeping out of the main neighborhood)

And last but not least, there is a secondary prayer spot in an open area upstairs. There is also an altar, although any interactions with it will unfortunately have to take place in the theatre of mind.

You might've also noticed that the temple is full of cat statues - that's because a cat is one of the Entity's symbols. That's why there is also more of them than dogs in the households around the community, taking care of them is a religious practice for worms. (also, dogs have to be walked, and I find checking the dog's bladder motive constantly to be a huge annoyance in the Sims, and I keep forgetting about it)

The Devir Residence

Not to be mistaken for the Home of the Priest (the main estate of clan Devir), this is a house that stood abandoned for most of a generation. It was build by Audrey and Avery Devir and it's the birthplace of Cyrus Anora, however the Devirs moved into the Home of the Priest after the Grim Reaper made Archibald and Amanda Devir vacate it. Nowdays, the Devir family has moved back in, but the branches switched - it's Felicia Devir, descended from Archibald, with her wife Hannah, and their young daughter Naomi.

This is the house pre-remodel.

And this is after! I've slimmed it down a little to make the roofing work better, varied the texture a bit, and added a terrace for Felicia's telescope over a parking spot for an eventual car. The funny thing is that right after I finished the remodelling, I've realized that it's very probable this household will fuse with another in the 11th rotation, so I'll have to remodel it again to make more space. See you in the next worm architecture article-

[hils79]

Hils Watches The King's Avatar - Ep 40

It doesn't feel like 5 minutes ago that I started this drama. It's so very bingeable.

It's been a real journey. None of this has been what I expected beyond the very basic concept of 'it's a drama about esports'. There have been so many wonderful surprises. There are characters that I hated that I now love, characters that I loved that I now love even more, and more ships than I ever expected to ship.

While I'm at it I want to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has popped up in the replies to my posts or in my asks to either answer my questions or just yell about their favourite characters. I can tell this drama (and the novel and donghua) are so well loved and liveblogging this has really felt like a community experience. Thank you for not laughing at all the stuff I got wrong and for not making fun of me for shipping everyone. It's really been so wonderful and I almost don't want to press play on the final episode because I don't want it to be over.

But I need to see what happens so let's go!

Ah, okay. I misunderstood what happened at the end of the last episode. I thought they'd lost the game but no they could still win they just didn't have enough points to win the championship.

Is there going to be some loophole like the whole 'oh the ref's watch broke so actually you won'

HAHA! I fucking knew it! They got an extra two points for beating a league record. Because apparently that is a rule that has never been mentioned until now.

Eh, whatever. There was a nice moment with the fans before the found out they'd won

Ye Xiu finally gets the hug that he's needed since episode 1

Good lord how is there 30 minutes left? What's going to happen now that they've won?

God I hope Sun Xiang punches him

Except of course he won't because he's all grown up now. Also, typically it's the coaches/managers that get fired when a team does badly. I hope he gets booted

Love Shaotian dragging Wenzhou to his feet so he can cheer

Remember when their entire fanbase was just this guy. I'm definitely not crying at all

Look at that little half smile. He's grown so much considering they only lost on a technicality. I do think he's at least a little bit happy for Ye Xiu as the better player (for now)

GDI I can't believe I'm crying over Sun Xiang AGAIN

LOL remember when I thought he was going to be the antagonist of the drama when I watched the first episode. How wrong I was

Haha yes let's have a little joke about the time when I nearly banned you for life in the middle of an important game and caused your team to lose as a result

I have in no way been thinking about writing some King's Avatar fic with one based on the fact that Ye Xiu passes out after one drink

HAHA! Mo Fan pretended to pass out too so he doesn't have to talk to anyone. He is such a mood

Oh shit! I did not see that coming!

Oh no he looks so sad to see his former team like this, and it's understandable. He built that team from the ground up and put so much time and work into making them the legends they were

Yes, good. Baozi is cuddling one of his boyfriends as he should

Ah, yay, I'd forgotten about the team graphic. Time to add one more person right before the end

And finished! That was wonderful! Definitely in my top 5 dramas that I've watched this year. Might even be the number one, actually. I definitely should have watched that years ago when people first told me to give it a try. But, you know, I firmly believe you find things when you were meant to find them. Now was good.

I'll be starting a new drama tomorrow. If you were just here for my King's Avatar posts it's been lovely to have you. If you're sticking around for other liveblogs I'll see you tomorrow for more yelling :D

[aishangotome]

Personal Branch (Xia Xiaoyin): #1 Dongshui Illusion Techniques (东水幻术) Part 3 | Beyond The World 世界之外

Part 2

♡———♡

Liu Hu was taken aback for a moment, but perhaps with the thought of "humoring me, making me feel better," she didn't question me further and simply untied her money bag and handed it to me.

Liu Hu: Here you go. This is the money your aunt and uncle gave me, originally for me to take you out and buy some fun and useful things.

I nodded, took the money bag, and weaved through the crowd.

The negotiation went more smoothly than I expected.

The procuress said the man was not young, had a leg injury, was resistant, and clearly difficult to manage, so it had been difficult to sell him for a long time. Now that someone was finally willing to take him, she didn't mind selling him cheaply.

After buying him, we hired a carriage, but instead of going straight home, we went to Liu Hu's place.

Although Liu Hu is married, her husband is away on business, and she is in complete control of her household, so what we were about to do wouldn't be leaked.

I noticed that although Xia Xiaoyin didn't speak or move along the way, he was constantly and cautiously observing his surroundings, as if looking for a chance to escape.

After arriving at Liu Hu's house, I deliberately and kindly reminded him---

You: You're injured. You won't get far.

Xia Xiaoyin ignored me.

Right, as I expected, he doesn't know me at all right now.

You: Don't worry, I bought you for a reason. I want you to marry me.

Xia Xiaoyin suddenly looked up at me, his eyes cold, with a hint of underlying… hostility.

Liu Hu quietly reminded me in my ear.

Liu Hu: I get the feeling he's even less reassured now.

You: Yeah, maybe. I'll talk to him some more.

You: Sister Liu Hu, do you have any clothes your husband doesn't wear? Could you grab a set for me? I'll have him clean up and change into them later.

Liu Hu: Of course, of course! Your brother-in-law has several new suits he hasn't worn. I'll go get them for you.

After Liu Hu left, I looked at Xia Xiaoyin and began to explain seriously.

You: Um… it's not the kind of marriage you're thinking of. It's not a real marriage. I just want you to help me put on an act, to pretend to be my “husband.”

You: If you agree to help me, you can recover from your injuries here. Once you're healed, I'll do everything I can to help you leave.

Actually, I would help him even if he didn't agree. But I wasn't going to tell him that.

Seeing that Xia Xiaoyin was still very wary and unmoved, I explained my current situation to him.

You: This concerns my future, and I wouldn't lie to you. Once my problem is solved, you're free to go.

I don't know why Xia Xiaoyin ended up in this situation.

He seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded to me.

Xia Xiaoyin: Fine.

His attitude was still extremely arrogant, as if he had bought me, not the other way around. It brought home the deep truth that the one who owes the money is the boss.

I got the new clothes from Liu Hu and put them in the separate bathroom in the courtyard. Then I gestured to Xia Xiaoyin in the direction of the bathroom.

You: Why don't you go clean up first? The new clothes are ready for you.

-

Half an hour later, the man I had "bought" emerged, clean and presentable.

Liu Hu's eyes widened in surprise, glancing between him and me.

Liu Hu: My little sister has excellent taste!

She now seemed genuinely enthusiastic about this marriage.

Liu Hu: In our Wu clan, women have always been the head of the household. We don't rely on men for anything important. It's just a matter of finding someone who can help with the family inheritance and household affairs.

Liu Hu: Little sister, I think this man, although his background is unknown, is quite handsome. Living together and looking at him will also make you happy. You've chosen a good husband.

I could only nod in agreement.

Liu Hu: Oh, right, you haven't asked his name yet. If he doesn't have one, you can give him one.

Liu Hu whispered in my ear.

You: .........What's your name?

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering.

Xia Xiaoyin: Yin Xia... Xia as in summer.

Sure... liar.

The truth is, I've seen through everything. You're Xia Xiaoyin, the Regent of the Dongzhou Empire. I don't know how you ended up in this mess, but it looks like you're at risk of unemployment.

But I'm merciful. I won't expose you.

You: You looked completely different just now. What happened?

I suspected he'd used a disguise, but I asked anyway.

Xia Xiaoyin: I was worried about running into trouble, so I disguised myself.

You: Trouble?

Xia Xiaoyin: Like being targeted by a strange person, bought, and forced into marriage.

Someone with such a sharp tongue usually falls into one of two categories: either they haven't entered society yet, haven't learned any humility, or they entered society and immediately became their own boss...

Unfortunately, it seems the man before me is the former.

I looked at him, then took out his bill of sale and slowly waved it in front of him.

Xia Xiaoyin: ...You!

You: Take a good look. You're my property now. So, you have to listen to me.

Xia Xiaoyin was silent, his face darkening as he glared at me.

-

Thanks to Xia Xiaoyin, my plan went exceptionally smoothly.

I invented a backstory for Xia Xiaoyin, then took him home.

As soon as we entered, my "parents" in this identity, having received the news, immediately appeared and asked who Xia Xiaoyin was.

You: He's called Yin Xia. He's a merchant who was passing through Dongshui Village when he was attacked by bandits and left injured in the mountains. I happened to meet him when I went out today and brought him back. He fell in love with me at first sight, saying he had no way to repay my kindness except by offering himself in marriage. I couldn't refuse, so I had to agree.

I glanced at Xia Xiaoyin. He looked like he was turning green.

.

.

.

.

.

Dongshui Illusion Techniques: Part 4

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!

[obwjam]

GIANT TRENT CRIMM!!!!! IVE SEEN NO GIANT TRENT CONTENT WHAT ARE UR THOUGHTS ON HIM PLS

this has been sitting in my inbox for a while so let me make that up to you with a FICLET (inspired by convos with @rockification and @snack-at-midnight) in which trent discovers a borrower and is so enamored that he just HAS to tell ted

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

You were exhausted.

Your entire day was spent begging, pleading with the giant who had caught you mere days ago not to reveal your existence to anyone else. You knew who he was -- reporter-turned-author Trent Crimm, formerly of The Independent, now just independent. You spent your days traversing the vast AFC Richmond training facility, finding new places to hide and explore just about every day.

You just didn't count on someone finding you.

"It's alright, little one," Trent reassured you for the millionth time. You cringed at the nickname he used for you. It was so... dehumanizing. "Ted is a wonderful man, he won't hurt you."

You rolled your eyes. "I know he won't hurt me."

"Then might I ask what the problem is?" Despite how icky it made him feel, Trent knew he could use his size to his advantage. The two of you sat at his desk right next door to the coaches office, alone inside the facility at nearly 1 a.m. The writer leaned over you slightly, his shadow casting a long, dark shape that engulfed your form. You looked up with wide eyes and gulped.

"I... I just..." you started, unsure of how sassy you wanted to get. He could do anything to you. "I'm not very... keen on being discovered by an entire football club."

Trent felt a pang in his stomach. He really was sympathetic to your situation, but even if he didn't work in journalism anymore, he was still a journalist at heart, which meant that a secret like the existence of tiny people just couldn't stay a secret.

"You're lucky. There was a time I'd have reported your existence to the entire world," Trent remarked, subtly hoping that it would somehow make you feel better. "Besides, it's not the entire football club. It's just Ted." Trent thought for a moment. "And maybe Beard."

"Wow, lucky me," you snapped, not really thinking.

Trent pursed his lips and sighed. This snappy version of you was a far cry from the tiny he had discovered in his office around this time of night just a few days ago.

"Oh, my... what on earth...?"

You froze. You knew you lived in a place where the team was in and out at unorthodox hours, but you could read a clock. It was 2 a.m. Who was actually here at 2 a.m.?

Oh, right. The guy whose desk you were raiding supplies from.

Trent was speechless. Standing on his desk, clutching a paper clip like their life depended on it, was a human, no more than a few inches tall. As strange as it all was, as a journalist, he had heard it all. Phone calls and emails and messages from all sorts of people, ranging from good-mannered readers to straight-up nutcases... several of whom once tried to warn him of the existence of "imps" that would soon take over the world. What that had to do with him, a sports reporter, never made sense to Trent, but it's the first thing that popped into his mind.

You couldn't move. Why is he here? was the only thing going through your mind. This wasn't real. It was just another nightmare. You'd wake up any moment now...

Slowly, Trent leaned down. Nope, this was all very real. His salt-and-pepper hair spilled over his shoulders as his face grew closer to your trembling form, trying to find the words. I'm about to be the very first person to make contact with a tiny lifeform, he thought, not stopping to think that this might not be the first time.

"Hello, little one," he managed to say, quieter than he thought he was capable of. "I hope you'll excuse my surprise, I'm... well, I didn't expect to be seeing any tiny people on my desk tonight."

You just stared at him. What were you supposed to say?

"I'm Trent Crimm. What's..." he started before noticing just how scared you were. He had to adjust his plans. "You can tell me your name later, if you'd like." He cautiously took a seat, enamored at the way you gaped at his movements. "Is it alright if I ask you some questions?"

At this point, Trent knew just about everything he could ever want to know about you. He had this way of making you feel safe and drawing you in...

"I'm sorry, (y/n), I just -- if you were me, do you really think you could keep this a secret? You -- your existence -- it's quite remarkable, really."

You opened your mouth to reply, but Trent continued.

"You told me you've observed every single person who's ever walked through this clubhouse. Right?"

You nodded.

"So by now, you must have seen Ted, and how... gentle he is with others."

Another nod, though this one tentative.

"Then believe me when I say that me -- Ted -- we would keep you safe," Trent said, fumbling his words a bit. "I know you're nervous, but I promise, I'd never do anything to hurt you. At all."

You felt yourself blush. You were really starting to believe him.

"Why..." you began, checking to see how Trent would react to you speaking. He looked at you warmly, eager to hear what you had to say. "Why do you need to tell anyone at all?"

Trent sighed, leaning back in his chair, and took a moment to think. "Truthfully? I just can't contain my excitement," he said, shrugging. A small smile spread across his face. "If I can't tell the world, then... I suppose it's alright to tell just one person. Right?"

Your eyes darted to the tabletop, unsure of how to process this. On the one hand, you were a person, and it was unfair to dismiss your feelings. On the other hand, though... meeting Ted didn't seem like such a bad idea. He seemed like a good ally to have. And you had to admit, it was kind of flattering that Trent was so enamored with you. At the very least, he did ask if it was okay for him to introduce you to Ted... even if he was quite forward about it.

"Look... I understand the way you feel, I--I think. It's just... I don't think I'm ready yet -- to meet another person," you clarified. You stole a glance at Trent, who was taking it all in. You clenched your teeth under the weight of his stare. He's so big. "Maybe one day, when I... get used to being around you."

Trent's expression brightened. "Being around me, eh?"

Your face got hot. "Yeah. I don't think I could get rid of you now, even if I tried."

Trent laughed. "I suppose you're right." He cautiously put his elbow down on the desk, cupping his chin in his hand. The more he stared at you, the more he felt an intense desire to protect you and keep you safe from the madhouse of AFC Richmond. He was fascinated by your entire existence -- your life, your upbringing, your culture, everything. The dichotomy of the way you would nervously eye his hand and his movements, yet traverse the terrain that towered over you like an expert outdoorsman, was enamoring. It was an entirely new race of people to learn more about, and there was nothing Trent loved more than learning about people.

And telling stories.

"You know, I've asked you an awful lot of questions about yourself. Is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

You perked up. "Actually, I do. A lot of things. Starting with that device you stare at all day."

"The laptop?" Trent questioned, pointing to his closed Macbook.

You shook your head. "No. The smaller one. The rectangle."

Trent stifled a laugh. "You mean my phone?"

"Don't laugh," you chided. "How does it work?"

Now Trent was really smiling. Things as everyday and mundane as his phone were like a wonder to you, and to Trent, that was just downright adorable.

“Well, why don’t I just show you?” he said playfully, pulling his phone from his pocket with a twinkle in his eye. He stretched his arms out and held his phone upright, not even needing to touch the screen for it to flicker to life.

Trent felt a warmth fill his chest when he saw your eyes light up with the screen. He would tell Ted about you eventually, but right now, he was happy to have you all to himself.