#this is just to work out the design so i can then take it back to traditional art

[the-ladyrae]

I recently met a girl on Bumble, and I'm mad as hell about it because she lives less than half a mile away from me.

(Which I'm aware is like the opposite of a problem. RIP literally every other lesbian dealing with long distance. It is a privilege for me to be able to take a leisurely stroll to my gf's place [and there's a grocery store at the half way point of the walk so I can stop in and buy her flowers and snacks] and be there in no more than 15 minutes)

Anyway, I'm mad about it because I also loudly decry the effects dating apps have on human courting rituals. The comodification of intimacy to the degree of when people think of meeting someone now a days we don't think of going out to a bar, or dancing, or complimenting an interesting stranger in public. In most cases, we've actually begun to shun these things! The evolution of this in my mind began with the statement of "Women don't want to be approached in public." And for the most part, that holds true. We don't want to be bothered at work, where we have to be nice to you or risk getting fired. Or when we're out doing errands, grocery shopping, laundrymatt, whatever she's just trying to get some stuff done, leave her alone. Or at the gym, where the mindset is not really aligned with that activity. Or at the bar, we came together we leave together and keep an eye out someone might try to put something in your drink.

OK, wait, but back-up, I thought it was acceptable to approach women in social situations?

Well, it was, but doesn't that sound scary? You don't know that person that just came up to you and asked for your number. What if they're a serial killer, unlikely but wouldn't you rather have the opportunity to look into that first? Check their references so to speak.

I mean sure that sounds like a good thing, but how is this safer? I'm essentially doing what my parents told me not to my entire childhood, and meeting up with strangers from the internet.

Sure sure, sure, but this is different! We're providing a safe space where everyone is up front about who they are and their intentions! You can find exactly what you're looking for with all our magical filters (some might cost you a bit, but don't think about that yet). And then here's the kicker you can talk to them before you meet up in our messaging function, take an appropriate amount of time to learn everything you can and decide if this person is trustworthy enough to meet in person. That sounds nice doesn't it?

I guess I do like the idea of having a designated space where I know it's acceptable to approach an individual! And I mean how hard can it be to navigate one app?

Oh sorry I forgot to mention this part. It's not just one app there are like half a dozen major players that everyone kinda cycles through so you'll have to have all of them to play the field and increase the odds of you finding your one. And also because of the nature of us now giving you a haystack of options when you're looking for a needle you'll have to weed out like a dozen people at a time reality TV harem dating show style, while they do the same to you.

That doesn't exactly sound like a better system... But it clearly is, because of this system I met someone, didn't I? Well yes, but she lives half a mile away in the same neighborhood. We shop at the same grocery store, go to the same bars, have similar interests in general, and are both reasonably visibly distinct from a crowd (she's got bright pink hair, I'm a 6'1" femme who can't dress casual to save her life)

And we've both lived in this area for months without even noticing each other even though we're exactly each other's type. I don't know if any of that really made sense, but I think the point is that the dating apps are only fixing barriers to connection that they created. They are only solving problems they created, and we're paying them for it.

tumblr please stop showing me dating apps ads. i'll meet girls the old way; never

[cosmosluckycharms]

Showtime☆

pt2

Lullaby In Blue

When you finally get to the manor, it's dark out.

You were so sleepy. You just wanted your momma. You just wanted your grandpa.

You assume that when you get home, your father will take you in with open arms and talk as sweetly as your momma said.

Unfortunately for you, unlike how momma described him, he's cold and hard to decipher...

You look up at him in a mix of curiosity and excitement. He looked so cool! he was wearing a fancy outfit and he just looked so cool! The only thing that threw you off was how he looked so.....tired.

"WOAH!! You look so cool! Are you my dad? Momma has said so many good things about you! How about that one time when you-" He cut you off.

"Alfred, show her to her room if you will." he started walking away.

Your heart broke a little at that, but it's okay! You win him over sometime! For now, you need a nap.

Alfred walks you to your room while profusely apologizing about Bruce.

You walk into your room. And it's clear they didn't do much research on you...

The toys were better suited for a kid younger than you, maybe around 4 or 5 years old.

You don't complain though, the room is huge and you have a bigger bed than you can imagine!

You have your bedroom and walk-in closet! Alfred says to sleep and tomorrow they'll sort out the room and make it more for you.

The next morning you wake up and decide to unpack a bit.

You didn't have much, just a few clothing items, jewelry from your momma, a few picture frames, and some of momma's old stuff such as paintings and her cassettes of movies.

As soon as you finished unpacking Alfred came to call you down for breakfast.

You go downstairs to see at the table your father, a boy around 23 with black hair, and another boy who looked around 18 years old with also black hair with a white patch.

You introduced yourself to them like your momma taught you.

"Hello!! im Y/N L/N!!! Well, actually I don't know about L/N now because technically he is my dad," you point to Bruce. "I'm kinda hungry," before you could continue with your ramble Alfred shut you up with a plate of pancakes in front of you.

It's clear to everyone but you that 7 in the morning is too early to be this hyper and nonsensical.

"Oo! pancakes! I love pancakes! They're my favorite! My grandpa makes it from scratch-" You pause for a second, a very slight stop that makes your eyes water up a little.

No one could notice it.

Well besides the literal detectives sitting at the table.

You continued rambling for a bit before Alfred mentioned a playground in the backyard, recently designed for you.

"WOAH that's so cool! Can I go play on it? Please?" you made sure to drag the 'e' in 'please', that's how it always worked on momma.

He allowed you to and you quickly got off your chair.

You were about to play outside before realizing you were nowhere near ready to play outside, you still had your PJs on, and your fuzzy socks!

You ran to your room to get ready for the day, which was difficult because momma would always help usually

You were trying not to look sad, you shouldn't be sad. You should be thankful for all the things they're doing for you.

After a couple of hours of playing on the mini playground, you got tired.

You decided to get back inside and eat.

You went inside and saw it was empty. You decided to go into your room and take a nap.

You walked in and realized you forgot to go shopping with Alfred! All the things in your room were baby things, and you only had two other pairs of clothes to wear!

You didn't mind though.

You lay down on the carpet and fell asleep immediately.

It wouldn't hurt to sleep for a while...

You woke up a couple of hours later.

You woke up silently crying, you had a dream about the day you and your momma and grandpa went to a theme park.

You couldn't remember much about the dream, only that you had so much fun.

You don't know why you're crying, you had a great time, did you not?

You didn't understand. This shouldn't be happening.

To calm yourself down, you started humming the lullaby your momma sang to you.

It worked slightly.

You decided to get up and eat, you were hungry and hadn't eaten earlier.

You went downstairs and saw a boy no older than 15 eating a bowl of cereal.

You hadn't met him yet, so you tried to introduce yourself to him!"HELLO! My name is Y/n l/n!!!!! What's your name??"

Unfortunately for you, you caught him at a bad time. He had been working on a case since 7:30 am and this was his break.

"Leave me alone," he said, in a obviously tired tone.

Well, obvious to everyone but you.

You continued asking him questions, only for him to ignore you, grab the bowl of cereal, and walk away to his room.

You looked at him with a confused look on your face.

Your stomach rumbled a bit before you snapped out of it and grabbed yourself a bowl of cereal too.

You ate alone at the table.

The next day while outside in the garden, you saw a boy playing with a dog.

The dog looked so cute! You decided to talk to the boy.

"HELLO!! Im y/n l/n!! it's nice to meet you!!"

You started asking him a lot of questions, like what his name was, what the dog's name was, are you guys were siblings, and more!!

The excitement you had to meet others was overwhelming to some people.

He ended up getting the dog to chase you away.

You ran to your room and stayed there the entire day.

You wanna go home.

You ended up finding out their names at one point or another.

The 23-year-old one was Richard "Dick" Grayson, the 18-year-old one was Jason Todd, the one that shooed you away while eating cereal was Timothy "Tim" Drake, and the boy who got his dog to chase you was Damian Wayne.

You don't understand why they didn't want you, you weren't mean or evil like those villains you saw in the books momma read you, so why did they not want you?

You tried getting into hobbies you didn't care about so you guys could talk about them.

You joined a book club, which you kind of disliked since it was so quiet.

You joined gymnastics, which you were good at and kind of enjoyed, it did help you get your energy out, though!

You tried coding, which you didn't like at all.

You tried art, which you were okay at.

Nothing really stuck!

And it's not like it helped with getting your family to notice you.

It didn't matter to them, they had Gotham to help.

You didn't have actual hobbies or interests for a while.

Not until you were 12.

You had signed up for theater in middle school, and the teacher was nice enough to take you all on a field trip to a play.

It changed your life.

You knew immediately that that's what you wanted to do.

You wanted to spread smiles, just like how this play had spread joy to you and others.

You wanted to perform on stage for others!

You knew this was what you wanted!

As soon as you got home you asked Alfred if for your birthday you could have a stage.

One that was going to be demolished soon due to not bringing in any money.

He decided to think about it.

It was a strange request coming from you.

You never really asked for things like this.

You never really asked for non-neccesities at all!

But he decided to not think about it too hard.

feeding my like 2 emu!reader enjoyers lmfao

oml this took so long

guys lowk im so tired

anyways this is ass

taglist:

@shirp-collector-of-fixations @maybeethan69 @iluvcatzz @tacendxx @ninihrtss

[hy6erion]

viktor and jayce fighting over you??

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐲 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞

⇢ 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐨

1. The Scientific Method (or How to Win You Over)

It starts subtly—at least, as subtle as Jayce can manage.

“You know,” he says, leaning against your desk, broad shoulders blocking your view of the latest schematics, “I was thinking—you and I should go out sometime. Just the two of us. For research purposes.”

You don’t even have time to process before Viktor, seated across from you, speaks without looking up from his own work.

“Research into what? The effects of secondhand embarrassment?”

Jayce shoots him a glare. “Into team bonding, Viktor.”

“Mm. And what hypothesis are you testing? That you can single-handedly drive them to madness?” Viktor hums, scratching something in his notes. “A bold assumption, but I suppose it is not entirely unfounded.”

Jayce turns back to you, ignoring him. “Dinner. Drinks. Maybe some—”

“A headache,” Viktor mutters.

Jayce groans, running a hand down his face before pointing at you. “You. Pick a side here.”

You exhale, setting down your pen. “I don’t even know what we’re arguing about.”

“We aren’t arguing,” Viktor says at the same time Jayce huffs, “We are arguing.”

You stare at them both. They stare at each other.

This has been happening for weeks.

It’s not always this obvious—sometimes it’s in the little things, the way Viktor always ensures your coffee is warm but lets Jayce suffer with whatever’s left in the pot. Or how Jayce somehow always has an extra set of tools whenever you’re missing yours, grinning like he wasn’t just waiting for the opportunity.

And the way they bicker—gods, it never ends.

“Fine,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Jayce, we can do dinner. And Viktor, you can join.”

Jayce groans, throwing his head back. “Not the third-wheel invitation—”

“I accept,” Viktor interrupts smoothly.

Jayce turns to him, expression wounded. “Dude.”

“You do not own them, Jayce.”

“Neither do you!”

Viktor just smiles.

You take another sip of your coffee. This is going to be a long night.

2. The Art of Winning (or Just Being Petty)

“Y/n, my dearest, most trusted lab partner,” Viktor says, sidling up next to you while you’re examining some blueprints. “You are an artist of unparalleled skill. Would you mind assisting me with some designs?”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can answer, Jayce materializes from across the room.

“Woah, woah, hold on, I was just about to ask them for help.”

Viktor tilts his head, feigning confusion. “Just about to? How convenient.”

Jayce narrows his eyes. “You knew I was gonna ask them—”

“Mm. And yet, I asked first.”

“That doesn’t—”

“Time is linear, Jayce. Surely you understand this.”

Jayce looks ready to explode.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You both know I have other work to do, right?”

They don’t. They definitely don’t.

But Jayce recovers first, flashing you his most charming smile. “C’mon, you know I have the bigger project right now—”

“Size does not determine quality, Jayce,” Viktor interrupts. “By that logic, your brain should be much more effective.”

Jayce’s jaw drops. “Did you just—?”

“Mm?” Viktor takes a slow sip of his tea.

You sigh, turning away before you witness a murder. “I’m flipping a coin. Heads, I help Jayce. Tails, I help Viktor.”

Jayce’s shoulders relax. “That seems fair.”

Viktor hums, noncommittal.

You flip. The coin lands. You glance at it.

Then, you slap it onto your palm before either of them can see and say, “I’m helping myself today.”

Viktor huffs a quiet laugh, and Jayce groans, dropping his head onto the nearest surface.

“Brilliant,” Viktor murmurs. “I am rubbing off on you.”

Jayce mumbles something into the desk. You pat his shoulder in consolation before walking away, leaving them to their stalemate.

3. The Heart of the Matter (Or: Maybe They’re Not as Subtle as They Think)

At some point, you begin to wonder if they even know what they’re fighting over.

Because it’s not just lab work. It’s not just projects, or coffee, or who gets to sit next to you during meetings.

It’s you.

And they’re both smart enough to know it, even if neither of them says it outright.

It’s in the way Jayce’s gaze lingers whenever you laugh, like he’s memorizing the sound. The way Viktor’s voice softens when he murmurs your name, careful, like he knows the weight it holds.

It’s in how they both wait for you at the end of the day, pretending it’s just coincidence.

It’s in the way Viktor watches Jayce’s arm brush against yours and says nothing, but his fingers tighten around his cane. In how Jayce watches Viktor pull you in to murmur something close and he says nothing, but his jaw tenses.

It’s in the way neither of them will ever say it—but neither of them will yield, either.

And you?Well.

You just let them fight.

[mecha-changeling]

I've done most of these in my current project.

Gold is worthless in Quiet Space, as is everything except time itself. Access to space and automation of labor kind of kill the concept of scarcity of goods entirely and well, that's it for economics as we know it. The Terran Protectorate's closest thing to a currency is a literal credit system that entitles you to X hours of the empire's industrial capacity.

I mean, time is fleeting...

Its a stellar Empire. Only one clock is 24 hour and it's Earth's. The odds of another planet having the same rotational speed is basically 0.

Again since most places in my setting are not on Earth and therefore axial tilts are different... and also most megastructures and space habs don't have seasons at all...

I've got a planet that rains diamonds. Okay sure I'm just borrowing it from reality but people can go there and do things.

Most planets have more than 1 moon, turns out.

One of the human Clann's homeorlds is a gas giant. It has rings. Several planets have orbital ring habitats, but I don't think that's what you meant.

I have this, but the world is uninhabitable without bleeding edge shield technology.

I've got the star roads. They're invisible, does that count? TLDR; they're a FTL system that pushes craft in them faster than light by using a spinoff of gravitational drive technology to sort of ripp off mass effect but instead of sling shots it's based on the US highway system.

The Runi use wood for some of their jewelry.

The Thymrai don't use anything for wedding band type signifiers of marriage. They use their words "We're one." or "I have my mate." and if you don't respect that they'll probably stab you because you're calling them a liar and that's fighting words in their culture.

The Glorin always make a new name from select syllables from both prior names when they wed. They're also nano-hiveminds with each individual having 3 bodies, so most of their scocial things are odd.

I have several robotic species which genuinely would not be able to grock the idea of bastardry. "But... they manufactured you. You are their creation. Circumstances are irrelevant."

Most of my aliens do not use binary sexes. Many of the monosex species don't have a concept of gender at all because WHY WOULD THEY?

The Glorin again. They discount other gods as gods because they know they're just extradimentional entities that live in hyperspace. Their god does not live in hyperspace and seems supernatural to other gods. She also dosn't do the normal god things, she shows up like your cool aunt coming back to town and will do things like make your whole species immune to cancer and call it a "bug fix".

Again, the Glorin's god. She's very lovecraftian in appearance unless she specifically takes on a humanoid form for whatever reason (but she'll complain the entire time about how painful it is to "scrunch up like this")

Given designer organisms are a thing for Terrans, I've got this one. Because many of them are reskined other critters! (I may work on this one later today)

Plot? You assume I worldbuild to tell a narrative? Lol! I'm that wierdo who worldbuilds as their main hobby and sometimes you get a story out of it because I got bored.

I've got this one. What? This is a science-fantasy setting. Not sci-fi. TLDR; you can get a journal that will tell you everything friends that have willingly touched the journal did yesterday. It resets every time you sleep and fills you in on the previous day with every reset. This is, in fact, communication. Its just not real time or intentional. Yes this thing can end friendships, but its popular with Terrans because Terran society is about authenticity in 4269 and if your best friend actually thinks you're lame you want to know so you can terminate the friendship and find someone else (also their whole family would shame them as being inauthentic is as big of a social taboo as incest is today).

Books don't exist anymore. All information you want is either a direct download to your brain, or a VR experience. So... Yeah I've got this covered. Its not even a "well I love old things, so I still read books!" type of deal. If you read a book someone would look at you with the same incredulity that you would look at someone trying to light their bong by rubbing two sticks together. You'd probably also alert Central to a mental health crisis.

Many species communicate by psionic or digital telepathy. But sign langauge dosn't exist outside of millitary applications anymore. Not because "screw deaf/mute people!" but because genetic engineering has eliminated those conditions entirly. No one is born with physical disadvantages anymore. And even if they were, they'd be able to have them removed for free any time after they turn 16 since medical technology can reshape your body howeaver you please and has hit the "IRL Korean MMO character creator" point of "no further development necessary". (Yes that is a cornerstone of Terran culture. Part of that "be authentic" deal is your expected to live in a body that is "you" rather than whatever you were born as.)

Most of my alien species are not omnivores.

Small fantasy worldbuilding elements you might want to think about:

A currency that isn’t gold-standard/having gold be as valuable as tin

A currency that runs entirely on a perishable resource, like cocoa beans

A clock that isn’t 24-hours

More or less than four seasons/seasons other than the ones we know

Fantastical weather patterns like irregular cloud formations, iridescent rain

Multiple moons/no moon

Planetary rings

A northern lights effect, but near the equator

Roads that aren’t brown or grey/black, like San Juan’s blue bricks

Jewelry beyond precious gems and metals

Marriage signifiers other than wedding bands

The husband taking the wife's name / newlyweds inventing a new surname upon marriage

No concept of virginity or bastardry

More than 2 genders/no concept of gender

Monotheism, but not creationism

Gods that don’t look like people

Domesticated pets that aren’t re-skinned dogs and cats

Some normalized supernatural element that has nothing to do with the plot

Magical communication that isn’t Fantasy Zoom

“Books” that aren’t bound or scrolls

A nonverbal means of communicating, like sign language

A race of people who are obligate carnivores/ vegetarians/ vegans/ pescatarians (not religious, biological imperative)

I’ve done about half of these myself in one WIP or another and a little detail here or there goes a long way in reminding the audience that this isn’t Kansas anymore.

[pomegranatelifethis]

I got another one!

Reader REALLY smart I am talking smarter then ALL of them but being passed on as useless untill solving a problem which is made for Harvard university final year students in a matter of seconds?

Thank you for your time!

**English is not my native language**

**I know it's bad But it will be sorted out**

I loved your idea and made a little sketch

---

In the Batcave, Tim sat at the computer, intensely focused on the screen. The problem in front of him was challenging—a mathematical equation designed for Harvard University senior students. The room was silent, except for the sound of his fingers rapidly tapping the keyboard. With every move, he believed he was one step closer to a solution, but still, he couldn’t find the answer. Numbers and formulas on the screen tangled together, each one seemingly going in its own direction, never quite coming together.

At that moment, the room was empty aside from you and Tim. Everyone else was off doing their own thing, but Tim's problem was the toughest of them all. You couldn't help but think of the way they all saw you—Bruce’s little girl, a mistake from a one-night stand, dismissed as nothing more than a nuisance. Everyone treated you like you were dumb, like you didn’t matter. They didn’t understand you, but that didn’t bother you. Not really. You knew what you were capable of, even if no one else did.

You watched Tim work for a while, then walked over to him, standing just behind his shoulder. "Need some help?" you asked, your voice calm and collected, tinged with just a hint of confidence.

Tim glanced up at you, pausing for a moment, then shook his head. "This is a problem Harvard seniors would struggle with, there’s no way you can solve it."

You raised an eyebrow. "Harvard, huh? You’ve really overcomplicated this."

Without waiting for a response, you leaned in and began typing, your fingers flying over the keys with remarkable speed. Within seconds, the problem was solved. Tim watched in shock as the solution appeared on the screen, his disbelief palpable.

“How... how did you do that so fast?” Tim asked, his voice a mix of surprise and awe.

You glanced up at him, giving a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Harvard’s brightest students would take hours to solve this. I guess the problem was in making it seem harder than it really is."

After your words, you turned and walked away, leaving Tim staring at the screen, still processing what had just happened. As you left the room, you didn’t look back. You knew that despite their views, despite the way they underestimated you, you were more than capable. And that was something they would have to learn the hard way.

No one had seen your potential—not yet. But you knew what you were worth. And that was enough.

[heliosunny]

Hi hi!! Can I request a yan! Jing yuan with an assistant reader? Like manipulative Yuanie. Thinking about how he’ll have one of the people who are your colleagues overload you with work so he can swoop in and save you like he was your “knight in shining armor”. Having you fill out lots of paperwork so you’ll have to work overtime and stay with him more is definitely something he’d do!

I think yan! Jing yuan would also take you out on ‘business dinners’ as he’d like to call it. 🤭🤭

I also wanted to ask do you take nsfw requests? Or maybe you can make a rules list too please!

Mwah ❤️ I hope you have a good day!!!

Yandere!Jing Yuan x Assistant!Reader

The workload had been suffocating lately. Stacks upon stacks of paperwork found their way onto your desk, each page demanding your immediate attention. Your fingers ached from gripping the brush for too long, eyes burning as you struggled to keep up. It didn’t make sense how your responsibilities had doubled out of nowhere.

"Ah, still working?" A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

Jing Yuan leaned against the doorway of your office, golden eyes filled with amusement as he took in the sight of your disheveled state.

"You're overworking yourself" he chided, stepping in. "That’s no good. If you collapse, who will assist me?"

You let out a tired sigh, rubbing your temples. "I don’t have a choice. These reports need to be done before the deadline."

Jing Yuan hummed thoughtfully, gaze flickering over the piles of documents. "Strange. I was under the impression that some of these tasks weren’t meant for you…"

His voice was light, almost casual, but something about it made your skin prickle. Before you could respond, he reached out, plucking a report from the top of the stack.

"Ah, this one" he mused, flipping through the pages. "This should have been handled by your colleague. How peculiar."

Your brows furrowed. Had you really been doing work that wasn’t meant for you? It made sense now—why everything had felt overwhelming lately.

Jing Yuan sighed dramatically, setting the papers aside. "It seems someone has been overloading you, either by accident… or design." He tilted his head, white strands of hair slipping over his shoulder as he offered a sympathetic smile. "I’ll have to look into this."

"For now" he continued, "why don’t you take a break? Stay a little longer with me. I was just about to have dinner—perhaps you’d care to join me? Consider it a business dinner, of course."

You shook your head, exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders. "I appreciate the offer, General, but I can’t. I still have work to finish."

Jing Yuan’s golden eyes flickered with something unreadable before he let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, such diligence. It’s admirable, really." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "But overworking yourself won’t earn you any favors, you know."

Still, you refused to budge. "I’ll manage."

Jing Yuan sighed, feigning defeat. "Very well, if you insist." He straightened, a small smile playing on his lips. "At least allow me to lend a hand. I can ease some of your burdens—"

"No."

The word left your lips firmer than expected. His smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze, something unreadable yet sharp.

You didn’t give him a chance to press further. With a quick bow, you excused yourself, diving back into your work before he could weave his words around you again.

By the time you finished, the lights are already on. The cool night air biting against your skin. You exhaled, finally free from the suffocating weight of paperwork.

Or so you thought.

Jing Yuan was leaning against one of the pillars near the entrance, arms crossed in an almost lazy manner.

"You’re late" he murmured, pushing himself off the pillar. "I was beginning to worry."

"General? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Working until this hour—alone, no less? That’s hardly safe."

"I can take care of myself. How old do you think I am?"

Jing Yuan tilted his head, his amusement growing. "I don’t doubt that. But even the strongest warriors aren’t invincible." He stepped closer. "If you had accepted my help earlier, I wouldn’t have had to wait for you like this."

"You—waited for me?"

Jing Yuan let out a soft hum. "Of course. What kind of superior would I be if I let my hardworking assistant wander home alone at such an ungodly hour?"

His logic was twisted, you knew that. But the way he said it, the way his voice dripped with gentle concern, made it difficult to argue.

"Come," he said, placing a hand on your back, guiding you forward. "I’ll escort you home."

-----

The moment you stepped into your office, dread settled deep in your stomach.

More paperwork. MORE PAPERWORK?

The stacks had doubled—no, tripled overnight. Piles upon piles of documents sat on your desk, some even spilling onto the floor. It was impossible. There was no way this much work had suddenly appeared unless…

Your mind flickered back to the conversation from yesterday. Jing Yuan’s words echoed in your head.

"It seems someone has been overloading you, either by accident… or design."

A sinking feeling settled in your chest, but you shook it off. You didn’t have time to dwell on suspicions, not when you were buried under all this.

You spent the morning frantically working, but no matter how fast you went, the papers never seemed to end. By midday, your exhaustion became unbearable. Your pride screamed at you to push through, to handle it yourself, but reality was much crueler.

You needed help.

And you knew exactly who to ask.

Reluctantly, you made your way to Jing Yuan’s office, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. The guards outside barely spared you a glance before letting you in.

Inside, Jing Yuan lounged comfortably behind his desk, golden eyes lifting lazily as you entered. His lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Ah, what a pleasant surprise" he mused. "To what do I owe the honor?"

You hesitated. Even without looking at him, you could feel his gaze, sharp and expectant.

Taking a small breath, you finally spoke, voice quieter than intended.

"I… need help."

The silence stretched between you for a moment, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, Jing Yuan chuckled.

"My, my," he drawled, resting his chin against his palm. "So even my diligent assistant has limits. How adorable."

Your face burned, and you instinctively looked away.

"I would never abandon a subordinate in need," he said smoothly while walking over to you. "But…"

You tensed as he stopped just inches away from you, his presence overwhelming.

"I have one condition."

You swallowed. "What is it?"

He smiled. "You’ll sit near me while we work. That’s all."

That was… it? No outrageous demand, no unreasonable request?

Sensing your hesitation, Jing Yuan leaned in ever so slightly, his voice a soft murmur. "Surely, that’s not too much to ask?"

You bit your lip before reluctantly nodding. "...Alright."

Jing Yuan’s smile widened. "Good."

Without another word, he led you to his desk, gesturing toward the seat beside his. The placement left little space between you, the close proximity forcing you to feel the warmth of his presence.

"Now," he said, handing you a brush, his fingers grazing yours for just a moment too long. "Let’s begin, shall we?"

As you dipped the brush into the ink, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had fallen right into his trap.

The quiet scratching of brushes against paper filled the office, the occasional rustling of documents the only other sound. You sat stiffly beside Jing Yuan, fully aware of his presence as he worked leisurely beside you.

It wasn’t just the closeness that unsettled you—it was the way his eyes would flicker to you every so often, studying you between strokes of his brush.

"You’re quite tense" Jing Yuan noted, voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t look up. "I’m just focusing."

"Hmm." He leaned back slightly, stretching. "I wonder… do I make you nervous?"

Your fingers twitched slightly around the brush, but you forced yourself to keep writing. "Of course not, General."

Jing Yuan chuckled, clearly entertained. "No need for such formalities. We’re spending so much time together—surely, you can call me Jing Yuan?"

You hesitated, but before you could think of a response, he smoothly shifted the subject.

"I must say," he mused, "this is quite an improvement. If I had known all it took to keep you close was a bit of extra work, I would have arranged this much sooner."

You turned to him, only to be met with his usual easy-going smile.

"Just a joke," he reassured lightly. "Unless… you’d rather I keep you overworked? I could make sure you need my help every day."

There it was again. That subtle pressure wrapped in velvet words.

You swallowed hard and forced a polite chuckle. "That won’t be necessary."

Jing Yuan exhaled as if disappointed. "Pity."

Hours passed, and despite his slow, deliberate pace, he finished his portion faster than you. He hummed, watching you struggle to keep up.

"You’re still working?" he asked, feigning concern. "You really should take a break."

"I can’t afford to. There’s still too much left."

Jing Yuan hummed in thought. Then, as if struck by an idea, he leaned in slightly, his voice a near whisper.

"How about this?" His tone was warm, coaxing. "I’ll help you again tomorrow… but only if you have dinner with me afterward."

"You deserve a meal after working so hard," he continued, resting his chin on his palm. "And it’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Just the two of us, away from all these dreadful reports?"

It sounded harmless enough.

Reluctantly, you nodded. "Alright."

Jing Yuan smiled, pleased.

"Good" he murmured. "Then it’s a promise."

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the Xianzhou Luofu in a soft, warm glow. Lanterns flickered to life as you walked beside Jing Yuan, your exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. He had insisted on walking with you, his usual lazy smile in place, but there was an unmistakable satisfaction in his gaze.

You had been too drained to argue.

The restaurant he chose was far from the usual places where officials gathered for formal meetings. It was intimate, the kind of place that felt too personal for just work.

"You didn’t have to pick somewhere this… refined" you murmured, hesitant as you stepped inside.

Jing Yuan chuckled. "Nonsense. You deserve a proper meal after all your hard work." He guided you to a private table tucked away from prying eyes, his hand lingering just a second too long against your back.

As you sat down, a waiter arrived almost instantly, as if they had been expecting you.

"Order whatever you like," Jing Yuan encouraged, waving a hand dismissively. "Consider it a reward for your dedication."

You hesitated before cautiously selecting something modest. The last thing you wanted was to feel indebted.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, ordered without restraint.

"You know" he mused, "I admire your work ethic, but I do wonder—do you ever take time for yourself?"

"I don��t have much choice. The workload has been… demanding."

His golden eyes glinted. "Ah, yes. It seems someone keeps piling too much on you, doesn’t it?"

You glanced at him suspiciously, but he merely took a sip of his wine, his expression unreadable.

"It’s a shame" he continued, "how easily people take advantage of you. Always so responsible, so eager to prove yourself… It makes you an easy target."

His words struck a nerve—not because they were wrong, but because he was speaking as if he weren’t the very person orchestrating your exhaustion.

"You make it sound like I’m helpless" you muttered.

Jing Yuan let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Not at all. You’re quite capable… But even the strongest warriors need someone to protect them sometimes."

There it was again. That gentle, insistent push—reminding you that he was the only one who truly saw you, the only one who cared enough to step in.

Your meal arrived, breaking the tension momentarily. You focused on eating, but Jing Yuan never stopped watching, his gaze following every small movement you made.

"You should eat more" he remarked at one point, nudging a dish toward you. "You push yourself too hard. It worries me."

"This is just a business dinner" you reminded him, almost as if you were reminding yourself.

"Of course," he agreed easily. "Just business."

But the way he poured you another drink, the way his fingers brushed against yours with each small gesture, told you otherwise.

Jing Yuan was in no rush to leave, drawing out the meal with casual conversation and idle remarks about work, yet every topic always circled back to you.

"You should rest more." "You work too hard." "It must be exhausting, always carrying everything on your shoulders."

His voice was gentle, warm, the perfect balance of concern and admiration.

“I should head home” you finally said, setting your chopsticks down. “It’s getting late.”

Jing Yuan tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes studying you in silence. Then, he sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair.

"I suppose you’re right" he said, sounding almost disappointed. "I wouldn’t want to keep you from your much-needed rest."

Relief flooded you—until he added, “I’ll escort you.”

You tensed. “That’s really not necessary...”

"I insist."

You swallowed your protest, knowing that arguing would only drag this out longer. With a quiet nod, you allowed him to walk you home. The city was quiet at this hour, save for the occasional passerby. Yet somehow, despite the openness of it all, you felt cornered.

Jing Yuan didn’t speak much, but the silence between you was anything but comfortable. When you finally arrived at your door, you turned to him quickly, hoping to end the night before he could push further. "Thank you for the dinner, General."

Jing Yuan smiled. "No need to be so formal. After all," he reached out, lightly brushing his fingers against the back of your hand, "we're much closer now, aren’t we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could step back, he withdrew his hand with a chuckle.

"Rest well, I'll see you at work tomorrow."

With that, he turned and walked away, his figure slowly disappearing into the night.

-----

Jing Yuan had been in a good mood that morning.

You had shyly asked for his help, relied on him, and even allowed him to walk you home. His patience was paying off, you were already beginning to lean on him, just as he had planned.

So when he strolled into the office, humming softly to himself, he expected to find you waiting for him, as usual.

Instead, what he saw made his easygoing expression freeze.

There you were, standing beside another officer, chatting casually as if the exhaustion from yesterday had never existed.

Jing Yuan’s sharp eyes immediately honed in on the scene—on the way you nodded, the small laugh you let out at something the officer said.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

The lazy, pleased expression he had worn all morning dulled into something unreadable.

Slowly, he stepped forward, his presence casting a long shadow as he approached.

Your conversation stalled the moment you noticed him. The officer beside you stiffened, standing at attention.

"Ah, General!" the officer greeted with forced politeness. "Good morning."

Jing Yuan’s golden eyes didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, they remained on you.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly, but there was no warmth in his voice. "I hope I’m not… interrupting anything important?"

"No, we were just talking about-"

"Ah, I see," Jing Yuan interrupted "And here I thought you had your hands full with work."

The officer looked between the two of you, sensing the tension. "I should get going" he mumbled quickly before excusing himself.

"Was something wrong?"

Jing Yuan chuckled, shaking his head. "Not at all," he said lightly, stepping closer. "I just found it surprising."

"Surprising?"

"That you still have the energy to entertain idle chatter… after all that work."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Jing Yuan placed a hand on your shoulder—gentle, yet firm enough to root you in place.

"Come now" he murmured, voice as smooth as silk. "There’s still plenty to do, isn’t there?"

In that moment, you understood—he wasn’t pleased.

And he wouldn’t let this slide.

The tension from the morning never fully left.

Jing Yuan acted as if nothing had happened, his usual lazy smile in place, his voice carrying the same smooth, amused tone.

But you could feel it.

The real punishment began soon after.

It started subtly.

Your workload, already overwhelming, suddenly doubled.

Requests that would usually be divided among the other assistants somehow all ended up on your desk. Forms, reports, urgent documents—all requiring immediate attention, all piling up at an alarming rate.

By noon, you could barely breathe under the pressure.

Still, you pushed through, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you struggle.

But just as you were starting to make progress, Jing Yuan’s voice interrupted your focus.

"Ah, this one’s incorrect." he mused, holding up a form you had completed earlier.

You blinked, frowning. "But I—"

"Fix it for me, won’t you?" he cut in smoothly, placing it back on your desk.

You stared at the document, confusion creeping in. You were certain you had filled it out correctly. But when you reached for another, you saw that the one you had submitted before, the one he himself had approved, was suddenly filled with minor errors.

Mistakes that hadn’t been there before.

Had he… altered them?

Before you could question it, he spoke again, his tone light and teasing.

"It’s unlike you to be so careless" he mused, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you. "Are you perhaps… distracted?"

He was toying with you.

And yet, what could you say?

Accusing him directly would only backfire.

So, you swallowed your frustration and forced yourself to keep working.

By the time evening arrived, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin. You could barely think straight, your hands aching from the relentless writing. Just as you were about to gather your things to leave, a shadow fell over your desk. Jing Yuan.

"You’ve worked so hard today" he said, his voice like silk. "Why don’t I treat you to dinner again?"

Your body screamed for rest, but you knew—this wasn’t an invitation.

It was a test.

And you already knew what happened to those who disappointed him.

So, with a quiet nod, you accepted.

And just like that, he won again.

-----

I think I'll update some rules if I have time.

For now, I don't receive NSFW content, it's a bit challenging for me in that field. :3 I rather focus on what I'm capable of doing rather than accepting all requests and giving you unwanted results.

[clairedaring]

brb. currently screaming at the DETAILS of gelboys ep 1

(SOURCE © @virtualtadpole)

text version under the cut for readers' accessibility

I'll leave the raving about Boss and his team's meticulous craftsmanship to u/ThoughtsAllDay and others, but man, there's so much detail packed in here, I had to take notes. Which wasn't easy while watching on iQiyi without VIP, as each time you inadvertently scroll back past an ad insertion point it forces you to sit through another minute of unskippable ads that just ended five seconds ago. Anyway, some thoughts:

The biggest question I had from the series reveal was whether it's going to be one of those works that could generate endless discussions of "Is this a BL?" And so far it sure looks like one of those works. This first episode is the sliciest a slice-of-life teen drama could conceivably be. Or maybe it just feels that way because it's so different, due to the fact that...

The entire series being shot on iPhone (though they just say "phone" because Apple isn't paying them) gives the whole thing such an indie guerrilla film vibe, which is interesting to say the least. The unrestrained depth of field, the sound design picking up on every little jingling of the charms and chains the boys have on their bags, result in this raw, artsy feel that is almost jarring compared to conventional production values.

The open environment alone sounds like a continuity nightmare, though not having paid much attention to the people and cars in the background, I didn't noticed anything egregious.

The opening toilet shot was... a choice.

The song Fourmod's mother plays in the beginning is เด็กมีปัญหา (Dek Mi Panha) by, of course, Four-Mod. It's one of the biggest early hits from the Kamikaze teen-oriented record label. Faye Fang Kaew is another of the label's first groups. You can tell their mother is a huge fan. (By the way, the iQiyi subtitles spelling Fourmod's name after his Instagram handle is really annoying. Hope they drop it soon.)

Fourmod said "this term" when asking to take the BTS, so it's probably the start of the second semester, i.e. November. Senanikhom Station opened in December 2019, while the entire northern extension opened in December 2020. Either Fourmod was referring to starting his P.6 and M.1 years after the station and line opened respectively, or the series is set in 2023.

I laughed at how they needed a disclaimer warning not to run up the escalators and to hold the handrail - clearly mandated by BTS the series sponsor. If you're wondering about the sponsorship, by the way, it probably just involved them making special arrangements for location access and not any cash - this was the case for the 2009 movie Bangkok Traffic (Love) Story, which revolved almost entirely around the BTS. Here, the lack of crowds during the morning rush hour points to most of the people probably being hired extras.

The BTS got plenty of indirect advertising in exchange, of course. Fourmod buying the monthly pass seemed almost forced at first, but was soon leveraged to explain why he didn't know how to tap out of the system, since he'd presumably only used single tickets before. (Like Thoughts said, the attention to detail is incredible, with things like these that you have to zoom in to even notice.)

The depictions of locations are so super specific to reality, almost as if this were a documentary. The school is fictional, of course, but it's slotted into the exact location of Watpathumwanaram School in real life, and everything around it, including the path of the students' commute, is real. Don't know why they'd take a tuk-tuk instead of walking 400 metres to Siam Square, though, as the traffic is totally impossible.

I have no idea how much creative liberty they're taking with the school's flexibility with body accessories, electronics, and transgender students. I'm sure the creators based it on what's possible at some actual schools nowadays, but I can't tell how realistic it is for the setting at all. Very much appreciate the variability in the lengths of the students' shorts as a reflection of their personality, though, as it's rarely seen on screen anymore.

I raised an eyebrow at Fourmod asking for extra MSG in his fruit dip. (The subtitles mistranslate it as "chili salt".) Didn't even know it was a thing - usually it's just sugar, salt, and chilli - but apparently recipes that also add MSG aren't uncommon.

I'm about curious about the passage of time. Their painted nails almost growing out suggests probably two months passing during each of the time jumps, but that would be almost the entire school term already.

It's funny to imagine how they got Yuedpao as a main sponsor. Their shop is actually opposite Kantima Salon, one wonders whether it's a coincidence or they found the location first, then got the sponsorship later.

The Kluay Kluay banana dessert shop was clearly included to keep older viewers connected - it's probably the only Siam Square location in the entire episode that's recognizable to someone who knew the place from the 2000s. Heck, the neighbourhood has changed so much recently, few of the scene locations would have looked like shown even five years ago.

Which brings me to my final point and main impression from the episode: Everything in it feels so deliberate in its depiction of today's youth culture. Which is of course what the creators set out to do. But the thing is, I (and probably most Millennial and older viewers) can't quite tell how accurate it is. I trust that the team did their research well, and on the whole it feels real enough, but the script's particular references, slang and vernacular might as well be a foreign language. It feels rather eerily uncanny how changed some things have become in the space of a generation, and yet how familiar some things remain.

[cinellieroll]

☆ more random obey me headcanons !

characters: the demon brothers! <3

small note: i am back. and i will disappear once more after this..also i apologize for the VERYYY LATE upload. i am not dead and i wont die until om fandom comes back to life i tell ya 😤😤

cw: none! :p

☆ lucifer:

- occasionaly has thoughts of getting a german shepherd but cerberus would get EXTREMELY PISSED if he did. also another reason why he refuses to let satan keep cats in the house. cerberus will gobble them up in less than a millisecond.

- has a pretty high libido (as if it isn't already obvious in the game..) he really enjoys taking out his stress on you everytime he gets the chance. buckle up buttercup ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

- one if his biggest secrets is keeping like a few albums of him and his brothers back when they still lived in the celestial realm. he keeps em hidden realll good

- sometimes asks levi or mammon to help him with his D.D.D

- "mammon, help me with this." "levi, why is my screen stuck like this?" "lucifer you paused the video-"

- he likes silk pajamas :3 he also can't STAND sweatpants for some reason.

- once a week, he dedicates atleast an hour or two grooming his own wings and his horns. there's a lot of occasions where he transforms in his demon form for parties and such.

- reads newspaper while taking a shit. guys dont argue with me on this its real.

- he has cold lips but his kisses are always very passionate with you!

- very well mannered everytime he's on the dining table and eating. y'all will never catch him spill a single food on the table or his clothes.

☆ mammon:

- eats with his hands sometimes when he's alone. and if someone ever finds out his excuse is always "so what? sometimes eating food with your hands is a better way to savor the taste." and i completely agree with him

- cleans his jewelry a lot. he wants them dazzling that people will do a double take when they see his mega awesome drip. like "haha yeah yall cant beat me on this baby" type shit

- cooks the BEST beef curry. the level of spice is perfect-o and beel always pesters him to make it.

- during family photos, he's always the one doing silly poses. he does hand stands, he has his ass out on display, he's ON THE FLOOR

- always man spreading in class. like you can literally see him chewing on his pen from across the room with his legs sprawled out

- you know that empty feeling you get after watching a movie? double that and give it to mammon. man takes it HARD especially if it was a sad movie that he watched. he'll feel empty for a gooooddd while

- always breaks his earphones, so when d.d.d airpods came out he got really happy and bought like 6 pairs (he ended up breaking all of them too)

- blasts music like crazy when he works out and lucifer absolutely HATES his music style and thinks it's unsanitary and inappropriate. like ok whatever you old fucking hag

- doesn't close the bathroom door after he uses it LIKE BITCH CLOSE THAT SHIT RN

- follows all of his fan accounts on devilgram ugh my boy <33

☆ leviathan:

- there's just like random times where he'll suddenly remember all of his past cringe phases. and it like appears on the most random times it's actually pissing him off

- always fantasized about creating character designs for simeon ever since he found out he was the creator of TSL

- he has a bad habit of HOLDING IN HIS PISS. yes he holds them in. he developed this habit ever since he got addicted to gaming. luckily for him he's a demon but boy if he was human he would've gotten kidney problems by now.

- levi would never ever admit it but he enjoyed getting spun around by mammon when they were still kids. like mammon grabs his arms then just spins him around and stuff

- sleeps with his headphones on and now he can't sleep without it. he's just like me jujujuju

- he really likes alex g :3

- sometimes he wishes he was a magical pop star girl performing for people on stage because they always look so happy when he watches them

- loves being the little spoon so much. sometimes it's awkward with him when he's the big spoon because he's either trembling or really stiff like a log

- he enjoys kissing your cheeks the most because he's convinced he'll melt if he tries kissing you on the lips

- has a hidden album on his phone of stolen shots of you doing the most random shit ever. eating, sleeping, showering..💀

☆ satan:

- even when it's freezing cold, his feet are always peeking out of his blanket. can't sleep without his bare feet hanging out.

- doesn't need reading glasses but insists on buying them because he thinks it fits the detective aesthetic. unfortunately he loses them a lot and no one knows why

- besides lucifer, satan is very sleek and neat when putting on neck ties

- had a phase where he absolutely despised coffee and tea because he found out lucifer enjoyed it. deep down he knew he enjoyed them too and it'd be one of the reasons for his constant rampages..

- started enjoying lofi music ever since levi introduced him to it.

- out of all the brothers, satan feels the most comfortable crying in front of mammon the most. (can i get some big brother mammon appreciation out here? 😔)

- he's the type to practice his lines in front of the mirror before asking you out on the date! he just wants everything to be perfect for you and yes sometimes he messes up but it's your fault for being too pretty

- worked as a librarian once as a part time job and lemme tell you..sales went high as fuck after that and the manager even BEGGED him to stay for longer. (which he did, as long as he got to have free books :p)

- tried the "which of the seven brothers are you?" quiz and got lucifer.

- is very skilled with the piano and even made a few pieces that reminded him of you <3

☆ asmodeus:

- really enjoys ear piercings and even got one himself!

- owns a clothing brand in the human world and even tried making you the co-owner. it's a really big success and he uses the money to buy you gifts

- can't go a day without kissing you atleast once! he feels like his lips would dry if doesn't get to even leave a peck on you

- does that back arch thing in his room when he's bored 👀

- bought so many makeup products once to the point lucifer banned makeup in HOL for like a month 💀 asmo held a grudge for a while because he was lowkey kinda conscious of his appearance when he'd go outside. especially when he's in front of you! ;((

- second most followed user on devilgram! (top one is diavolo lol)

- if he had to choose a favorite makeup brand from the human world it's either the ones with the cute packaging (ex: flower knows, too faced) or the high end brands like dior

- changes bed sheets like twice a week because it's either he can't stand the feeling anymore or found a new inspo on devilgram

- says he's not easily influenced on buying new things like mammon or levi but the moment he sees something go viral he's already purchasing 10 of them. (and posts it on his feed to gain those likes)

- crop dusts every now and then

☆ beelzebub:

- finds those gross ass thirst trappers who sexualizes food nasty asf and is a big donutdaddy hater

- wins awards from eating competitions a lot and always ALWAYS spoils you and belphie first

- always the viewer in situations where one of the brothers fight w eachother. mans always there for some reason so lucifer always approaches him first when smth happens lol

- sometimes he goes overboard with body sprays

- he likes hand made accessories/jewelry. belphie was the one who made his choker on his everyday outfit and cherishes it everyday

- he thinks tongue piercings are cool but never went out of his way to get one

- buys burger merch or any food merch in general lol

- he was never really the type to care about his own appearance and only did the bare minimum to make himself look presentable. but sometimes he does feel insecure when people get too intimidated by him, especially when it's you.

- "mc, you're not afraid of me right? i won't hurt you. i promise"

- majority of the time he's the one who fixes belphie's bed and cleans his side of the room so lucifer won't get mad at him

☆ belphegor:

- has no shame in stealing pillows from furniture shops and always gets away with it

- unintentionally says the most sassy remarks ever and stares at you when you call him out for it

- being the youngest, he doesn't really need to go shopping for his own necessities because one of the brothers already buys it for him before he can even step out of the house

- when you'd go back to the human world, he'd always gaze up at the stars and wonder how you're doing and if you're getting enough sleep

- always constipated like idk he just seems like the type to only shit once a week lmfao

- one time (or two..or three) he accidentally used a different toothbrush that belonged to one of the brothers because he was half asleep

- hates the feeling of jewelry on him because he thinks it's just in the way. especially hates earrings because it's a nuisance when he sleeps.

- HORRIBLE driver and can't drive for shit. crashed mammon's car once because he fell asleep. and his in defense was because traffic was so long smh

- he can't live without his cardigans. always wears long sleeved shirts unless it's summer season in the devildom and settles for loose shirts. he also has a habit of pulling his sleeves that it nearly covers his whole hand

- very calming singing voice. back when he was still in the celestial realm, a bunch of angel kids would approach him at night, telling him to sing lullabies for them to help them sleep <3

note: had to repost :P ALSO TY FOR 73 FOLLOWERS! hiphiphorey

[4urvalidation]

can you make a story where rafe and reader broke up 3 years ago, but she comes back to Outer Banks only now she has a daughter(who looks just like Rafe) and a husband (Whom she doesn't really love) and rafe still loves her

Oh, why you gotta make the wheels in my brain turn like this 😩 Not a huge expert when it comes to writing anything Y/N related, but willing to give it a go.

Didn't expect to connect to this as much as I did, so hopefully if the inspiration still flows once I'm done with A Case of Limerence I might explore this story further.

As for now, please enjoy this little blurb.

SUMMARY: Three years ago, Kook!Princess and Rafe began a secret love affair that lasted for an entire summer, until her parents found out and forbade Rafe from ever seeing their daughter again. Now, twenty-two years old and somewhat sober, he spends his days working a dull office job at his father's company wondering if he'll ever get to relive the golden days of his teenage years.

That's when she shows up - his first love. His only love. With a husband and baby and Rafe's heart is almost on the brink of breaking all over again until he realizes the kid looks exactly like him.

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of alcohol and drug use; sexual content - nothing too graphic but the implications are strong; Rafe is not a psycho killer, but a drug addicted fratboy;

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⸰ .° ☆ ° ☆ °. ⸰ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

The term Kook Princess has been thrown around a lot in these parts, but no one seemed to be embodying it as perfectly as her.  She was the golden girl; the good girl. With a pair of rich, uptight parents, designer dog and curfew. Never seen at parties, but always invited and if she were to come, she was always quiet, subdued - soft drink in a red solo cup pressed tightly to her lips; her loud best friend never leaving her side. 

Rafe doesn’t know what it was that made him so attracted to her. With her honey blonde hair and soft sun kissed skin, she was light years away from his usual type, but then again, not quite. She was forbidden; out of reach, a conquest if you will and as a man who was never taught the word no, he too saw her as something he simply must get his hands on. 

He spent his days scheming how to get close. They had no mutual friends, she rarely left the house and when she did she was always with her stupid best friend or her parents and yes - Rafe was fearless, but not to the point where he would openly embarrass himself in front of two of the most influential people on the island.  

Days passed and he forgot about her soft smiles and the way those long legs looked in all those frilly short skirts. That is, until fate decided to butt in. 

It was hot - the hottest summer they have had in years and it was his sister’s birthday and he was so sick and tired of her and all her stupid friends but then he saw a glimpse of honey blonde hair and freckled skin and Rafe’s entire world stopped turning. She was smiling: perfect white teeth on an even more perfect face and there were so many girls in the world; so many girls in his backyard in skimpy swimsuits, but at that moment, Rafe only had eyes for her. 

He had no idea she and his sister were friends; he had no idea she even had friends aside from that loud, annoying one and yet, there she was: taking his breath away in a bright red bikini. 

The following events happened in a blur. He had been drinking since 10 am that morning -  perks of having his father and stepmonster away for the weekend - and he’d been laying on his bed, joint in hand when she walked in. 

“Sorry,” Her voice filled his room and only when his gaze met hers was when Rafe realized her eyes were hazel and not brown like he originally thought. “I can’t find the bathroom.” He put the joint between his lips; his limbs limp with relaxation and he wanted to stand up; was desperate to move towards her and feel the warmth emanating from her body, but he was too fucking high for all of it. 

“It’s okay.” She giggled just then and it was the best sound Rafe had heard in years. “I’ll find my way.” 

To say that he was embarrassed was an understatement. He was fucking humiliated and so out of his mind, he could barely think of anything but that. The moment replayed in his head like a broken record of sorts; her soft smile on constant repeat and just as he was about to force himself out of the scenario the door of his bedroom opened again. 

This time she had put on shorts: the tiniest Rafe had ever seen and her bright red bikini was blinding and hot and fuck - she was so hot and he was so gone. He’d barely made any conversation with the girl and he could already imagine their entire life together. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Here,” Sitting on the edge of his bed, she handed him a tall glass of water and watched as he drank. Her eyes were insane; the freckles on her face an array of constellations and she smelled sweet like cupcakes or strawberries and fuck fuck fuck he wanted to eat her. Trace his lips and tongue in the crook of her neck; taste her mouth, taste her skin, taste her …

“Feeling better?” He heard her say, her voice quiet and meek just like she had been all those years he’s been aware of her presence.

“Yeah.” 

Rafe doesn’t remember how they ended up kissing. How the weight of her body moved on his lap; how she let him run his needy hands all over her body and kiss all that exposed skin. His shirt was off and she was practically naked, in his bed - just like all those times he had fantasized about her, except this was so much better. 

His name escaped her lips softly, always in a form of a muffled moan and suddenly all he wanted to do is make her feel so fucking good, she had no other choice but to scream his name. And she did. She was so loud he had to cover her mouth with his hand and feel her lips spread into a grin against the calloused skin of his palm. 

He was bewitched. 

Charmed. 

Fucking obsessed with her and for some reason this perfect, golden girl who could do no wrong felt the same. 

That entire summer she had him off balance; sneaking inside her home; always through her bedroom window and straight into her bed where they made crazy senseless love. She was going away after the summer but Rafe didn’t care. He loved her. Sure, he never made it his mission to let her know this, but actions spoke louder than words and boy did he show her just how much she made him feel. 

He was going to tell her - Rafe constantly made promises to himself but then she would give him those eyes and every word in the English language would suddenly disappear from his brain.

On the night he finally decided to let her know just how fucking in love he was with her, there sat her father. Sternly, with a pin straight back, he told Rafe to leave and never return. To forget her because she had already forgotten him. What they had that summer meant nothing and will remain nothing because Rafe Cameron had no business being around his perfect daughter. 

“I love her.” Rafe said weakly, but it went unregistered. The man didn’t care about that. He could care less about the way his heart burst whenever he was around her; how he was willing to do anything, be anything… All her father wanted was for Rafe to leave his little girl alone.  

She was smart, ambitious -  with a bright future and big dreams and all he had was a bad temper and drug problem. 

It all ended that night. 

She was gone without a trace. So gone to the point where not even that best friend of hers knew where she’d disappeared to. 

Days, weeks, months passed and Rafe tried moving on; dated girls that looked like her and when that didn’t work he started dating girls that looked nothing like her. He drank and smoked and snorted. He traveled the world and caused havoc and went to rehab and relapsed. He made his father proud and then disappointed him again and again and again and before Rafe knew, three years had passed by and he was twenty two and bitter.  

His hair was thinning and he might’ve been a whole year sober, but every now and then he’d be itching for a drink and peruse the liquor aisle wondering which bottle of whiskey was worth enough to ruin his life with. It was this exact thought that had been haunting him one June evening when fate decided to interfere again. 

It was his sister’s twentieth birthday and they were having her celebratory dinner at the country club for some reason. She’d brought her useless excuse of a boyfriend and because that wasn’t awkward enough, his father decided to invite one of their new hires: a software engineer named Marjorie that clearly had the hots for Rafe, but he was far too desperate for a drink to pay any attention to her. 

And then she appeared. 

Her laughter - that rambunctious, delicious sound - was the first thing Rafe heard before actually seeing her. And when he finally did it was like all pieces of his long ago broken heart finally fell into place. Her hair was gold and her legs were long and sure, she might’ve ditched the frilly skirt for a pair of sensible white shorts, but she still looked just as perfect as he remembered. 

His gaze followed her as she sauntered into the room; her parents behind her and a man and a child and there was Rafe’s heart breaking all over again. She hadn’t seen him and it was probably for the best, but then Sarah turned slightly and suddenly, she was all his sister could see. 

Smiling, Sarah had called her entire fucking family over. The scowl on her father’s face was unmistakable and in a matter of seconds there they were: having awkward small talk and introducing significant others and she was married. 

The diamond on her engagement ring was blinding, just like her smile and when she finally looked at him, it was like that very first time in his room when she begged him to kiss her and he couldn’t dare say no. 

“Hello.” She nodded at him like they used to be coworkers, but her gaze lingered - drinking him in like the whiskey he was so desperate to taste again.

“And who is this young lady?” He heard Sarah coo at the small child hiding her face in the crook of her husband’s neck and the word made Rafe sick. 

“This is Phoebe. Phoebe… baby, don’t be shy. Come now, say hi.” The tone of her voice softened and silently he watched her pet her daughter’s head until the kid was ready to face the audience. And when she did, a pair of wide, curious blue eyes were looking straight at him. 

Fuck.

It was like looking in a mirror. 

A tiny, chubby cheeked mirror. 

Even the way their hair was thinning is the same. 

Rafe swallowed.

She was looking at him, those hazel eyes dancing on his face expectedly as if waiting to see whether the realization has hit him yet. All those years ago… she didn’t disappear because she had stopped loving him or because her parents found out… 

She was pregnant. 

He had gotten her pregnant.

He looked at her and then at his daughter…

His daughter. 

He has a fucking daughter. 

A tiny little girl in a baby blue dress and pigtails. 

Their eyes met again and it’s as clear as day - she knows he knows and Rafe watched her answer his silent question with a single, curt nod. 

He is a father.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

HUSBAND IN HO SMUT PLEASE. SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF READER GETTING BRATTY AT AN IMPORTANT DINNER PARTY AND IN HO TAKES US HOME TO “TEACH A LESSON” 😩😩 (only if you are 100% comfortable with that request) I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW U ARE A GENIUS

AWWW THANK YOUUUUUUU

Also note: this song came to mind but I couldn’t find a better one than this one, IM SORRY GUYS. I TRIED HONOR LANA BC WHY NOT

Masterlist <- comment here to be added to my taglist

Dinner Party

Player 001 x reader [SMUT] 📸

You and In Ho stood in the mirror, looking at yourselves as you got dressed and prepared to go out. Your gold dress matched his black suit and gold tie perfectly. Your wedding rings shiny and bright.

You smiled at his as he adjusted his tie. What a fine couple you were. Clothes so expensive a name isn’t on them. A dress made by Alexander McQueen himself and shoes designed to accompany them. In Ho’s outfit was a casually tailored piece by a man you’d never heard of. Handsome and expensive, just how you liked it.

“Darling” you say absently toying with the charms on your bracelet. “What time will the car be here?”

“In a minute, we should probably go downstairs” he said as he sprayed cologne on, you followed suit with the woman’s version. He gripped your hand as you walked down the stairs of your penthouse apartment in the middle of Seoul.

Time skip:

You sat bored at the table complete with men, and some women, one of which was hitting on your husband.

“Honey, is my ring big enough?” You say drably showing the woman. “He keeps saying the ring is too small for his wife, that I need a bigger diamond” In Ho cleared his throat.

“Yes honey, I’ll buy you a new ring tomorrow”

“no i want it now” you pout.

“(Y/n), I said tomorrow. Stop acting up” he said sharply. He looked at the woman who was now too embarrassed to talk. He put his eyes on the investor across from him. Beginning to talk about funding for the next set of games. You flagged a waiter,

“I’d like more wine please” you say. Moments later he returned, filling your glass until you ordered him to stop. You stood up, your eyes flying around you. Looking at the woman as she walked to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” He gripped your wrist. His eyes not leaving the investor as he spoke. Engaged in conversation.

“The restroom” you pull your arm away.

“Not with the glass of wine, don’t be rude.” He said. “It is impolite to carry a glass to the restroom”

“Ah no, Hwang, we don’t mind” one of the investors said, overhearing. “Besides, the drunker the better” he added with a wink. In Ho chuckled. You walked away quickly, to the restroom. You leaned haphazardly against the sink, glass of red wine in hand.

The woman exited the stall, pausing as she saw you.

“Oh excuse me” you say as you pushed past her. The wine threatening to spill over the rim of the glass.

You used the restroom and when you returned she was still there.

“Is there a reason you’re still here?” You spit venomously. “I’m surprised you’re not out there flirting with my husband”

“Don’t act so spoiled” she returned coldly.

“How can I possibly act spoiled when I am spoiled? Do you not know how it works, honey?” You laugh lightly.

“A bigger ring, pfft. Your rings already the size of Korea” she scoffed. “Your dress is shabby, poor looking”

“Yes, says the woman dressed as Hilary Clinton from the 2016 American Presidential Debate” you throw your head back. She fumed at you heatedly, her eyes fierce. “You want to see how spoiled I really am? I’ll ruin my Alexander McQueen dress and watch how my husband reacts” you spilt wine, her eyes widening as she realized what you were going to do.

You screamed loudly, she darted out of the bathroom. You waited a moment before stomping out in your soiled dress. You walked straight behind her and dumped the remainder of your glass on her head. In Ho shot straight up to face you, your soiled dress burning his eyes.

He looked down at the woman, then back at you as your make up started to smudge as you faked tears. He fumed at you. His face screwed up in anger.

“I’m gonna have to take this one home” he spoke calmly. “Teach her a lesson. I’ll be back gentlemen” he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and walking towards the penthouse.

“Put me down” you beat against his back.

“No.” He said sharply. “I am palm-achingly mad” a slap against your ass. “I cannot believe you. Acting that way in front of the investors, and that woman. Oh my god, (y/n), I swear you are the most bratty girl I have ever been around”

“I am a woman” you sassed.

“Not with the way you were acting” he made it to the doors of the penthouse building. Walking inside you held yourself up on his buttocks, waving to the doorman.

“Hi Tang-sho” you smiled. The doorman nodded as you got into the elevator. In Hi standing stiffly as you squirmed in his arms. “Can I get down?” You ask impatiently.

“No.” You finally reached the top floor, In Ho walked into the grand room. Setting you down in front of a mirror, “take off the dress. Get on all fours and face the mirror”

“But I-“

“Don’t want to hear it. You need to learn something and learn it now.” In Ho pulled his slacks to his ankles as you undid your dress, doing as he asked. A sharp palm came down against your ass. “You cannot behave that way”

You moaned loudly, arching your back at the delicious pain. Another slap on your ass.

“You cannot behave like that at an important dinner party” two more slaps in your ass, your cheek red, In Ho’s hand print forming.

“Yes daddy” you say as you sink down to your chest, further pushing your ass up to him. Your arousal as vividly dripping from your cunt as he slapped both of your cheeks, reddening them.

"Fuck you, (y/n)" he whispered in your ear. His anger and lust combined into one emotion, creating a whole new meaning to the word, fuck. He was mad and turned on.

"Do it then, In Ho" you whisper in his. He rammed into you. He pulled your hair as he roughly fucked you on the floor.

"Do you know, how hard I tried to keep myself together (y/n)?" He bit your neck. Your nails scratching down his biceps as he fucked you relentlessly.

"No" you moan.

"No?" He growls. "Being here, fucking you relentlessly when I should be at an important dinner isn't a clue?" He said working on leaving hickeys in your neck and chest.

You creaming as you tightened around him. Moans of pleasure getting louder as you neared your climax.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckkk. You're close aren't you?" You nodded. "Tell me when you're about to. I want to hear you say it."

Your moans turned him on so much more.

"I'm coming" you say breathing heavily.

"What?"

"Fuck, In Ho, I'm coming"

"One more time." His grunted as he gave three rough pounds in between each word.

"Fuckkk In Ho! I'm coming, I'm coming" you began to tear up. He pulled out and flipped you so you were in missionary, so he could see your pretty face.

"No you're not" he growls as he hammers your pussy. The sound of balls slapping skin, and moans and grunts fillling the room.

"I'm sorry" you cry. "Daddy please let me come."

"You're sorry?"

"Yes" you scream.

"Then show me" he says letting go of your hips.

"Fuck me like this to show me you're sorry" you grinded your hips on his cock roughly but at a staggered pace. He could see your body spending and he decided to finish you off. Just the way you liked it.

"I'm sorry I fucked up my rhythm" he says in your ear. "I just wanted to see how gorgeous you look without watching your face through a mirror" he grabs your neck and thrusts into you . Your back arched off the tile, eyes red, and tears streaming down your face. You screamed as he roughly pounded you.

"Look at you" he said sweetly. "So pretty for daddy" your faced moved as he dogged your clenching pussy hole. "Sooo fucking beautiful"

"Fuck fuck fuck (y/n). Can I bust in there?" He groans as you begin to pull him to the edge. You nodded. "Can daddy cum in that tight pussy?" He asks again.

"Yes please, In Ho, please" you cry your core burned. You began to orgasm. He pulled your head up again.

"Let's cum together" he says as he began to cum, filling you up, you were soaking his dick with your juices, squirting around his dick.

"Good girl" he says as he fucked you till the end of his climax. Thrusts getting sloppy as he pulled out. He stood up, putting his cock back in his pants and zipping himself back up, he helped you to your feet. Leading you to the bathroom to fix your make up, grabbing you a spare gold dress from the closet with a new pair of shoes to match.

“Are you ready to behave yourself?” He asked.

“Yes daddy” you smile sweetly. Letting his help you get dressed again. Your pussy ruined from his cum inside of you.

Taglist:

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @player279achlys @galaxygurlll @whamzou @watasinekoru @angelofthorr @amandalol1414 @supersonika143

[cherryheairt]

Law of Attraction ch.2

Chishiya x reader fic series

Chapter two: The Beach

chapter one here

Masterlist

There was nothing left to do but move forward. Since your first game, unfortunately not your last as you grew to find out from a sobbing woman who pleaded for your and Niragi's help to end her before the lasers did on her final ‘visa’ day (which only ended with you covered in blood and Niragi laughing in your face and being no help), you had been traveling through Tokyo on foot. There was no electricity anywhere besides games that distantly lit up, being narrowly avoided by you both until further notice, and although you knew all the other people in this abandoned world were stranded here just like you, you didn't trust any of them.

Desperation made people do crazy shit.

Every noise made you flinch and study the origin, leaving Niragi terribly irate at your jumpiness. He had found a gun somehow, just a little handheld pistol to defend the both of you, but it still made your tenseness fade ever so slightly. On the third day of idleness, Niragi brought up a good point.

“We need to find a game tonight.” He said firmly. “I'm not ending up a bloody mess on the side of the road like that chick.”

“That woman just wanted out. It's not a crime to choose rather than doom yourself to having no say in your own death.” Your words made him quiet for a long moment as you both scanned the windows of the department store you locked up in for the previous night.

Nothing was amiss it seemed, and you took to padding around to find fresh clothes and hygiene products.

“We'll be fine. The games aren't impossible to win.”

You hummed from the hair care aisle. “We don't know that. Thirteen people died in our first day—and I think that was meant to be an easy game.”

“Easy?” He asked, trailing after you. “Sure, maybe after we figured it out, but I'd rather not almost drown again.” The reminder that you owed him your life laid heavy in your heart.

“That's not what I mean. Do you remember the AI's information? She said: Three of Diamonds. Like a deck of cards. If we go off of that, three would be one of the easiest games we would face.”

Niragi had the sense to pale slightly. “What if Diamonds stands for difficulty, too, though. Like, 1-13, but Spade, Club, Diamond, and Heart are leveled 1-4?”

You pondered the idea. It could be, yes, but with the game's objective, you doubted it. “I think Diamonds are a game of intelligence.”

Niragi rolled his eyes but didn't seem too hung up on it. “Great, intelligence games with a bartender. I might not be able to cash in this life debt after all.”

Glaring, you tossed him a pack of hairties. “I'm in college, dipshit. It's not like you came in with a lab coat on, either.”

He turned his head, scoffing. “I design and code game software. Graduated university: top of my class, thank you.”

You both sat in uneasy silence for a while. You broke it first, changing the topic entirely. “I didn't give you those for nothing. Tie back your hair, it got in the way in our first game, I don't want it to happen again.”

Niragi awkwardly fumbled with his midnight black strands of hair, but with no mirror and presumably no experience, it became hard to watch. “You've never put your hair up?” You asked, bemused.

Niragi clicked his tongue irritatedly. “I'll do it later.”

“Give it,” You nearly growled out, snatching it from him and urging him to lean down but the heel of your palm, earning an offended noise from the man. You tied it half-back in a manbun-esque style. Studying your work once he stood back up straight and eyed you with a slightly flustered expression crossing his sour face, you snickered in satisfaction. “Much better. We can see your pretty face now.”

Although it was a half-hearted joke, Niragi seemed to take it as an insult rather than a friendly tease. He scowled at you and continued prowling through the aisles with a heavier step.

After having little luck, you both decided to move on. With your find, you were able to change from your, frankly quite gross, tank and jeans and into more breathable athleticwear that allowed you to freely move around. Niragi didn't get the memo, instead changing from his standard office attire and into black jeans and a loose-fitted silky button-up. He vehemently ignored your barely concealed look of judgement, humming out loud as you looked around the city streets. It was evening now, when the game venues all started to light up and people could sometimes be spotted if you looked from a high vantage point.

He nodded towards a warehouse arena that had lit up moments ago. It seemed to be an old candy-making factory judging by the brightly colored LEDs, but you weren't quite sure. “That one's close.”

“What type do you think it is?” You asked, stashing your bag under the cash register in an old corner store deli. The smell was absolutely awful in it, but you knew it would repel any scavengers who weren't so lucky in their own pickings.

“It's a big arena.” He sniffed, not saying a smart-ass comment like you had started to expect over the past few days. “Physical game, I'd guess. Lots of space to hide or run away in.”

“I'm pretty good at hide and seek.” You said optimistically, earning a genuine laugh from your companion.

“Let's hope it is, then.”

🍒

The warehouse was, in fact, a candy factory. It still smelled sickly sweet as you both wandered through the employee entrance door. It was a pristine grey everywhere, quite a depressing place of work but sleek and clean nonetheless. Conveyor belts were seen through the open gate doors and giant palettes of differently packaged candies were stacked nearly to the ceiling. The sight was nauseating and you avoided looking to the top, hoping that none would be knocked over any time soon. In a smaller area people piled in quickly after.

Some were clearly experiencing their first game, eyes glossed with fear and confusion. Some were wary of others, backing to walls and observing their opponents with hard stares. Most seemed to collectively be anxious and alone, a select few coming in with another at their shoulder.

One particular duo caught your eye, looking out of place next to other pairs. About the same height, one styled his medium-length wavy and greasy hair into a loose bun at the back of his head, facial hair lining his uniquely handsome face as he glanced over everyone with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Even his wardrobe was eccentric, a fedora with sunglasses stacked on top of it adorning his head and a colorful shirt-slack combo. The other was his stark contrast, buzzcut hair and wearing a simple outfit of a black wife-beater and matching cargo jeans, showing off muscled arms. Military, easy, and possibly your most dangerous enemy or valuable ally in a game of brawn.

You shared a glance with Niragi, who also caught interest in the new additions. Only mere moments after they walked in, the door shut behind them and the AI's voice rang. Stepping closer to Niragi, you looked to your phone for the instructions.

“Player Requirement met. Closing registration…”

“Game: Laser Tag. Difficulty: Five of Spades.”

A five. On the presumed scale of 1-13 like you guessed, a five was still on the easier side. Five days would be added to your visa if you survived, providing ample time to set up a secure home base for you and Niragi.

Niragi seemed satisfied, patting his handgun with a pleased grin. “That sounds promising.”

“Rules: Two teams will be assigned from the 28 players in the game. The Red and Blue teams will use their provided laser guns to play one round of laser tag.”

“How many lives do we get?” A nervous young voice spoke out, leading your eyes to a teenage boy dressed in a grimy t-shirt and pajama pants. He'd been here for days already, used to the games but not acclimated enough to find supplies. He was scrawny, collarbones visible under his thin shirt and cheeks hollow like he'd not eaten in days. “In the arcade, its always three.” He says, hugging himself.

You hummed assuringly. “Maybe. Or whatever team gets the most tags.” You said, slightly reluctant but knowing no one else would speak up and comfort him. He weakly smiled at you, shuffling ever so slightly closer to your pairing.

A door clicked open, revealing an employee break room that held coat racks of vests with attached guns, classic arcade style. “Can we pick our teams?” You whispered to Niragi, shivering at the temperature drop that seemed to happen after the rules explained. He didn't reply.

Grabbing a vest from the rack, you shrugged it over your shoulders and strapped it across your chest. Next to you, the teenage boy followed your lead and did the exact same actions. Picking up a gun each, the players all glanced around at each other with distrust in their eyes and tense bodies. Niragi was confidently standing almost entirely in front of you, blocking most people from your view—or looking at you. Unconsciously or not, you were grateful.

The timer dinged while counting down time for players to gear up. Seeing the boy's grip shaking over the hold of his trigger, you reached out and placed your own over his. Muttering, you comfortingly said: “It's okay. Treat it just like you're out playing laser tag with your friends. Do you go to the arcade often?”

Swallowing harshly, he nodded. “Almost every weekend.”

You smiled. “I haven't been in years. If we're on opposite teams, go easy on me.”

He laughed, nodding softly. “I'm Hoshiko.”

You told him your own in turn, and the timer finally stopped. The room went completely dark, and mutters released into the room. The vests all lit up at once, lighting it in blue and red. Looking down at your gun, you found that you were blue. Niragi turned to you, smirking when he saw your colors matched. “Watch my back this time.” He said plainly.

Hoshiko was blue, too, and you let out a subtle sigh of relief. “Take care of me.” You said, nudging his arm. He nodded with furrowed brows, seemingly set in his goal.

“Clear condition: Do not get hit with a laser gun. Time limit: 20 minutes.”

You sucked in a breath. “One hit is a loss?” To have to sit out and allow your teammates to carry on after only one hit would be a challenge. People would drop like flies, even in the large arena.

“Game starts in: One minute.”

People immediately began their rush out of the employee room to find beginning points. Hoshiki led the way for you and nodded towards the office areas upstairs. “We can see everything from there.”

Niragi obviously had the brains to agree, not arguing with the much younger boy's decision. Your trio rushed up the metal staircase and to an open office in the middle of the hall, overlooking a good majority of the line of conveyors. In the distance, the enormous stacks of wrapped cases were slightly visible. “Did anyone else come up here?” You asked, leaning below the window and glancing over it to peek. The blue glow from all of your packs lit up the small space as the timer ticked down.

“20 seconds remaining.”

You tensely gripped your gun, taking a deep breath in and listening to the footsteps below.

“I didn't see anyone else.” Niragi said. “But don't assume anything.”

You and Hoshiko nodded together. “Game start. 20 minutes until the game finishes.” The factory lit up with LEDs and strobes, highlighting the floors and walls periodically and making vest colors harder to see.

Immediately, blasts were heard throughout the arena. Shoes squeaking on the metal floor echoed throughout the open area and shouts of panic did, too. Niragi sprang up to join the action, looking both ways down the hall before situating his gun on the railing while kneeling. You and Hoshiko followed behind, each finding a spot on the railguard to shoot from. You flinched as a red-hot laser shot just past your head and into the wall. Whipping your head around, your eyes widened in horror of realizing that the lasers used from the guns were the very same ones that shot down from the sky and killed game losers.

“We only get one hit because it'll kill us.” You told Niragi and Hoshiko, who were both coming to the same realization in different ways. Hoshiko was nearly hyperventilating, hugging his gun to his chest and leaning below the railing to shield himself. Niragi, on the other hand, was cheering and celebrating his own killshot.

He ducked when the dead man's teammate spun around and blasted towards the upper area. Laughing, he seemed high on adrenaline as he faced you. “You didn't put that together already, sweetheart?”

Swallowing, you braced yourself at the sound of thundering footsteps climbing to the office hall. “Go!” You urged, taking Hoshiko's arm and running towards the end of the hall and towards the other stairwell. Lasers lit up the arena with red and blood littered the floors as fluid as water might. You all hid among a line of conveyors, watching a few blues and reds alike taking turns jumping from hiding spots and shooting at the opposite sides.

Niragi was the boldest of you three, taking risks and peaking out to discreetly shoot down any stragglers who tried to move positions. Each little cheer he did made your stomach squeeze uncomfortably, but you forced yourself to understand the situation. It was them or you, after all.

Bringing up your phone, you read the black digits: ‘15:27’. Only five minutes had passed and yet it felt like hours with your blood pumping hot through your veins.

Niragi leaned down, whispering to you and Hoshiko. “See that guy in the black tank?”

You both nodded after a glance up. The buzzcut guy from the break room was dominating the competition—blue side's, luckily—from a clever spot on the second floor of the storage area. He peaked up strategically and shot at the Reds hiding amongst the large stacks of candy. “I'm going to make for the wall between storage and the conveyors.” He said. “With him, we can take most of the Red guys down.”

“You'll be exposed!” Hoshiko said urgently, pleadingly shaking his head.

“You both are covering me.” Niragi said sternly, earning saucer eyes from you.

“I'm not a good shot, Niragi.” You told him. “If you get shot—”

“Don't let me.” He nearly growled out, wasting no time and run-crouching over to the concrete wall. You and Hoshiko held you breath all the while, and you didn't even register the Red-lit woman stalked Niragi with a keen eye as she spotted him skittering across the floor. Stepping from her hiding spot, aiming right for his back.

It was Hoshiko that moved first, lifting his gun to tuck it below his chin and rest on the conveyor to aim for her leg. When the trigger was pulled and the gun's nozzle was left slightly smoking from the intense heat, all you could hear was the woman's pained scream as she dropped her gear and clutched at her leg. Panting on the floor, she rocked herself back and forth before turning her angered gaze to you two. Her Red vest turned off and she was entirely in the shadows. Gasping, you pulled the boy down and hidden away with you again.

“Shit.” Hoshiko cursed. “Can the guns still work if you're out?”

“I don't know…” You trailed anxiously, sweat-laced hands gripping the handle of your gun and sucking a deep breath in. “We can't risk that.”

Hearing the hobbling footsteps approach the belt, you hopped straight up onto your feet and shot forward. The red laser momentarily lit up her face, illuminating the horrified expression on her face as it hit her right in the chest. The ‘thud’ echoed in the immediate area as she went down. You killed a woman. In a game of laser tag, you shot down and murdered your opponent with no hesitation. Hoshiko rose to your level, grabbing your arm with a worried expression. “We need to move spots. They'll hear that fall and know someone is right here.”

Wordlessly, you nodded. Niragi had to do the rest himself. Hopefully, that woman was the only one who'd noticed his movement. You and Hoshiko crouched back below the conveyors, using them as covers to stalk below, avoiding other players who seemed to trip over each other in panic. You both reached a small room to the side, finding it to be some kind of broom closet. “Get—” You started, whipping around when a loud, ‘crash!’ went through the entire factory instead. In the dark, you could see the silhouette of the towers of packages start to tumble down like dominos. You could hear Niragi and another man's voice call out triumphantly towards each other, cheering and whooping coming solely from Niragi but the other man affirming the victory that the falls brought.

Glancing up, you saw the man in the black outfit who'd been at the high position and shooting from a distance waving for Niragi to run back into the working part of the factory. He obeyed, surprisingly, cackling as he ran with his gun in hand back to the former hiding spot that you three had taken.

“Seven players remaining.” The robotic feminine voice chimed. You hummed, wondering which team had more. With the large stacks of boxes falling, you assumed that your team had taken the majority of the Reds down in that room.

Hoshiko shouted next to you, yanking you down from your spot and into the wall. You almost scolded him for the unnecessary manhandling, but quickly paused when you saw him shoot down a limping Red team man who escaped the box flooded area. His gun was pointed right at the two of you, only stopped by Hoshiko's own precise aim to his chest. He was animated in the air for a second before falling completely limp in a pile of blood and flesh.

You held Hoshiko's shoulder, staring at the dead man with a silent gape. There wasn't any time to dwell on it when another Red came darting across the working line room. “Shit-” You cursed, jumping to run behind a wall with the still shell-shocked boy.

You heard the padding of his heavy footsteps approaching with vigor, and clutched your gun tight to your chest to prepare for another one-on-one shootout. You hoped desperately that even if you were shot, you could take him down at the same time to prevent him from harming Hoshiko.

A shot interrupted your prayers, and you gingerly peeked out to see a red-hot hole cooling down to black right between the man's eyes, blood pooling around his head on the reflective floor. Looking up, you saw Niragi with an unimpressed raised brow and gun leaning on his shoulder casually as if he'd not just shot down a man.

“Saved you again.” He snickered, though he didn't sound too hung up over it.

Standing on shaky legs, you shook your head. “I shot down a woman who saw your big head switch spots.” You defended yourself.

Sharp laser shots sounded in the much quieter arena, presumably from the AI rather than any players. They were too rapid and short to come from your guns.

“All Red players eliminated. Game clear.”

Looking at your gun, you shoved it to the floor and wiped your sweaty hands on your pants.

“Really now?” Niragi sounded surprised. Glancing around, he spotted the woman's still body in front of the first conveyor that they hid behind. “That's still two saves versus one. Don't forget it,” he nudged your arm with his own, not bothering to lose the gun. Ignoring him, you glanced down to Hoshiko, who hugged his legs and shivered.

“Hoshiko,” You started gently. “We need to go. Do you have a group?”

He looked up at you with glossy eyes, shaking his head. “I—I came here with my brothers. But the first game killed them both.”

Niragi eyed you, kicking your shoe from behind as if to say ‘don't do it’.

“Niragi and I are on foot right now, but it's safer with three. Come with us.” You offered a hand out to him, smiling when he grabbed it to hoist himself up. Niragi clicked his tongue behind you.

At the break room's emergency exit, you three found the two men from the beginning holding up the 5 of Spades card and inspecting it. Apprehensively, you stilled when spotting them, unknowing of their friendliness beyond playing on the same team for less than half an hour.

“Hey.” The eccentric man with the bun greeted first. Niragi narrowed his eyes, nodding his own silent greeting. The more intimidating of the pair was completely silent and still, crossing his large arms other each other and studying all three of you with hawk eyes.

“Have you been here long?” He continued, obviously unconcerned with the awkward tension in the room.

“About a week.” Niragi rounded up, tossing aside the vest and gun, making sure the gun in his belt was visible to both men. Smart, you thought as the buzzcut glanced at the other man with a raised brow.

“Most people don't even make it that long.” The man laughed. “My name is Takeru—or Hatter, if you please. This is Aguni, my…security.” He clapped Aguni on the shoulder, and you half-expected that Aguni would shank him in the stomach for the close touch. Surprisingly, he stayed perfectly still and nodded at the mention of his name.

“Niragi.” Niragi introduced himself, intrigued at the introductions. To you, it felt like you were about to be given a sales pitch.

You introduced yourself and Hoshiko shortly, staying in front of the boy while he was still shaky and unnerved.

“You must be tired from all the walking. Here and there, no electricity and running water. Water bottles grow scarce in all the scavenged stores.”

“What's your point?” Niragi asked.

“You look like you can handle yourself. At The Beach, we've been recruiting people like you.”

“The Beach?”

“A utopia.” Hatter spread his arms out dramatically like a preacher might, and you questioned just how much truth comes from his mouth. “There's only a few of us now—but we've managed to get electricity and water working again with our resident geniuses. Cars, too, so no more walking aimlessly for the next game. Aguni here is our militant branch head, he joins most of the games to keep our residents safe and returned back to The Beach.”

Sounded too good to be true. Electricity and running water run by only a few people. “Where's this utopia?” You asked apprehensively.

Hatter's eyes locked on you and he smiled brightly, a cheek to cheek grin that made you certain he was missing some screws. “Come with us. Niragi, you were good with that gun, you could be placed right under Aguni.”

Niragi seemed to think over the offer in his head, shifting his weight and glancing between Aguni and Hatter. “They can come?” He asked, nodding towards you and Hoshiko.

“Of course! All are welcome at The Beach.”

“We'll check it out.” Niragi agreed for you all, earning a scorching look from you and you pulled his arm.

“I never agreed to that. We should discuss it, Niragi.” You hissed in his ear.

He yanked his arm back, looking down at you like you were a mere animal. A dog begging for food at his heels. “There's nothing to discuss.” He left the alleyway with Hatter, following him to the car that was promised.

Aguni stayed a moment longer, eyeing you before he followed after.

You and Hoshiko shared a glance. “Do you want to go?” You asked. Without Niragi, you wouldn't be half as safe. A young woman and a teenage boy alone on the desolate streets of abandoned Tokyo with scavengers hiding about would not prove positive for anyone. Niragi knew that and took advantage of it.

“I think we should just give it a chance. If Hatter is lying, we'll leave.” He suggested, looking a hundred times more weary than when they first joined.

“Are you okay?” You stopped him from approaching the car. “We could take a moment, if you need it.” Truthfully, your own stomach was churning with the weight of Laser Tag's deaths—directly and indirect. You thought your first game was horrible, with the thirteen other people dying in their water-filled cages surrounding you, but at least you were not responsible for their deaths like you were now. How many people would you have to kill just to make it to the next game and kill some more?

“I'm okay,” he smiled weakly, leading the way to the car. “A shower would be nice, though.”

You laughed and agreed.

🍒

Hatter was telling the truth. The Beach was a reformed resort with fully functioning utilities and people. There were only a few, leaving the lobbies and pool empty as you passed through them like ghost towns. The bright lights were comforting, though, making up for it. Hatter and Aguni led the way to an upstairs rentable office room that had all the previous decorations removed and replaced with more practical ones. A large white table sat in the middle of the room, with three people sitting at it as if they were waiting for you all.

“Everyone, meet Mira, Ann, and Kuzuryu.” He introduced you three in turn. Murmured greetings were exchanged between everyone. Kuzuryu was wearing a formal suit and square glasses, looking groomed and proper despite the wildness of the new world. Mira was wearing a black blouse and dark red slacks, a mirror of the former and yet looking twice as sweet with a smile and wave towards you. An was in a white blouse and denim shorts, expression hidden behind sunglasses but still managing to look intimidating.

“These are our number two, three, and four.”

“Why are they numbered?” You piped up, glancing at the bracelets on their arms.

“I'm glad you asked, my dear!” Hatter appeared behind you, grabbing your shoulders and laughing joyfully.

“Now that you know The Beach is real, I can explain the purpose of it.”

You and Niragi sat next to each other at the table, you sitting opposite of Mira and him next to Hoshiko as you waited for an explanation. Kuzuryu stood and walked to a wooden wall, opening it like a barn door to reveal a few scattered paintings of cards. Your eyes ran across the wall, scanning for the cards that were painted on. It wasn't many, and you assumed it was still a work in progress as a few were crossed out and others were still half-done.

“The purpose of The Beach and all of its citizens, future and current, is to collect every single one of the cards from the games.”

“For what?” Hoshiko asked quietly, wringing his hands together in his lap. He looked interested.

“To get out of this world.” Hatter said, demeanor suddenly extremely serious. “I have a theory. If every card is collected, then the game is completed and one person at a time can go home per deck of cards.”

“That's why we have rankings.” Kuzuryu spoke up. “Number one goes first. Then two, and three, and so on.”

“I am number one, of course.” Hatter said with a charming bow.

“That would take years!” You exasperated. “Who would wait that long?”

Mira giggled in front of you. “That's why we're recruiting people all over Tokyo to join us. The more people contributing cards, the faster we can all go home.” Basing everything off of a theory was risky.

“I'm not sure I want to stay here.” You told Hatter, following his pacing form around the room.

“No?” He asked. “Not even if you were offered a place on the executive table?”

“Would I be able to keep it if you offer everyone new a spot at it?” You bit, glancing at the entrance door that was blocked by Aguni.

He waved the question off. “Of course. The ranking is decided by how many cards someone has contributed, and their cards’ value. As long as you keep playing the games, you can keep your number.”

“Still. It'll be faster if I do it alone. Good luck, Hatter.” You stood from your chair, yelping when you were yanked back by Niragi.

“We'll stay.” He promised simply.

“Niragi—”

“Great!” Hatter clapped, taking a seat at the head of the table. “Let's get you three some numbers. What are your cards?”

“Three of diamonds and five of spades, obviously.” Niragi answered for you both. “We didn't grab our first card, though.”

Hoshiko reached into his pocket and slid a three of hearts to the table's head. Hatter nodded appreciatively, pocketing it for himself. “That's no matter. We'll find another three of diamonds game eventually.” Mira moved to cross out the three of hearts with a fresh can of paint, her neat handwriting showing no flaws on the white wall.

Ann reached into a bag and handed you three numbers. Six, seven, and eight. “Distribute as you please. You three have an even amount.”

Hoshiko handed you the ‘Seven’ and took the ‘Eight’ for himself as Niragi immediately slapped ‘Six’ on his own wrist. You didn't give a damn what number you were assigned, knowing that tonight while everyone else slept you would simply sneak out. Hoshiko, too, if he accepted your offer.

“Your room numbers correspond with your numbers.” She continued.

“Before Hatter left, we were discussing the rules of The Beach.” Aguni said. You almost forgot he was there with his silence. He sat slumped at the other end, opposite of Hatter.

“Ah, yes.” He said. “We only got to brainstorming but during our drive I think I figured some out.”

Ann nodded for him to continue and she brought out a pen and paper from her bag yet again.

“Number one.” He started, drafting it. “Live as you desire. Drink, party, fuck. Its some of our last days, might as well be free.” Some nods and mutters of agreement filled the room. Seeing no complaints, he leaned back in his seat and continued.

“Number two.” He scanned the room, lingering on you, Mira, and Ann for moments too long. Confused, you glanced at both of them and found no luck in an explanation. “We must all wear bathing suits at all times. This goes hand in hand with ‘no weapons’. Nothing is hidden in swimwear.”

Before you could plead your case, Niragi spoke up. “No weapons?” Like that was the biggest issue. In fact, you actually liked that rule.

Hatter laughed and waved him off, too. “Not you, Niragi. The Militants are permitted guns. To keep order, only a few select people can be exempt.”

“Can't we just do room checks?” You asked.

“If you're against the policy, you could wear normal attire during games. But there is no further argument.”

Well, damn.

“Only one more rule. Short and sweet to keep confusion to a minimum.” He decided.

“Death to all traitors.”

[narumi-gens]

Triptych | "Fate put us on the same path."

Chisaki Kai x f!Reader

summary: Your life is nothing more than a triptych, a work of art in three parts with each panel depicting a distinct period — a beginning, a middle, an end. And in the triptych that is your life, the central figure has always been Chisaki Kai.

chapter warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, yandere, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, complicated family dynamics, codependency, daddy issues, abandonment issues, reader says "faults" but should really be saying "red flags" lol

notes: this is from a non-chronological series so the parts can be read (mostly) on their own or in any order. someone left the nicest comment on this fic on ao3 and I felt like I needed to update this fic, so this is your regular psa on the importance of leaving comments!

words: 2.2k

SERIES MASTERLIST

minors, blank, and ageless blogs do not like, comment, or reblog

The Middle

You’re having trouble breathing. You’re having literal trouble breathing. 

The shiromuku is so heavy and tied so tightly that it feels like each breath you take requires a monumental effort. There’s an ache forming in your shoulders from the pure weight of it all. You’ve spent so much of your life in kimono that you can put one on blindfolded. But this? This wedding kimono is another beast entirely. 

“It’s a bit tight,” you wince, causing the two women currently in the process of tying the obi around your middle in an extravagant knot to softly titter. 

“I know. It’s all a bit cumbersome,” the older woman in front of you commiserates before smiling at you so kindly that it alleviates your discomfort for a brief moment. “But it’s worth it. You look beautiful, just as every bride should. Your husband is a lucky man.”

You let out a noncommittal hum, which is cut short by a soft grunt when the woman behind you gives your obi a particularly harsh yank. 

“How did the two of you meet?” she asks, trying to distract you from how uncomfortable you feel as they continue to tie you up in beautiful silk. 

“We grew up together,” you reply, deciding the simplest answer is the easiest. 

“Ah, so fate put you both on the same path,” she observes with a soft smile and her words have you suddenly feeling breathless for a reason entirely unrelated to the thick layers of fabric wrapped around you.

“I guess so,” you murmur, but before you can lose yourself in your thoughts, you wince when your obi is given one final tug.

“There we go,” the older attendant behind you declares proudly as she adjusts the obi knot. As difficult as it physically is to do so, you sigh with relief knowing that the fussing is almost over. It’s been over an hour by this point. “All that’s left is the uchikake.”

One of the women lifts up the final and thickest layer that will be worn over your kimono. You reach out to gently trace the beautiful designs embroidered on the white silk. As your finger follows the outline of a crane’s beak, you can’t help the frown that forms on your lips.

“Can we take a break?” you ask and there’s a pause at your unexpected request. 

“O-of course,” the attendant in front of you says as she carefully places the uchikake back in its box before she and the other woman leave the room. 

When you hear the door close behind you, your posture droops as much as it can in such a restrictive kimono. Instinctively, you tug at the collar to try and loosen it slightly at the neck only to immediately worry that you’ve ruined the women’s hard work. 

You turn towards the room’s floor-length mirror and feel a rush of relief when you see that the collar appears untouched. Your eyes then drift to take in your full reflection for the first time and your lips part slightly in surprise.

So much of your life has been dictated by tradition — from the way you were raised to the clothing you had been made to wear to the marriage that your father tried to arrange for you — that the last thing you wanted was a traditional Shinto wedding ceremony. However, as you see how beautiful the shiromuku is, and how elegant you look in it, you’re in awe. 

But the longer you look at yourself, the more reality begins to set back in until the small frown on your face is reflected at you in the mirror. Without the distraction of the two women dressing you in such an elaborate garment, all you’re left with is the image of someone you don’t recognize — or rather the image of a future that you never envisioned for yourself. 

Eventually, the reflection becomes too much and you turn away from it to look out the window into the shrine’s gardens. When you see how dreary the weather is as it continues to rain like it’s been doing all morning, you sigh and rest your forehead against the glass. Your fingertip follows the path of a raindrop as it runs down the window’s surface and you absently wonder if the weather is a poor omen for your marriage. 

Not that an omen would matter now, considering you and Kai have already filed your paperwork and have been legally married for weeks. This ceremony is just that — ceremonial. So you’re not what it is that has you feeling so out of sorts.

Maybe it’s the chaos of the last months. Your mind has been a mess as you’ve tried to navigate your grief for your father, your guilt over not having returned home sooner, your indecisiveness about what you were going to do next, and your conflicting feelings toward marrying Kai.

You hear the door open behind you and brace yourself for the gentle scolding that you’re about to receive from one of the attendants for wrinkling your kimono with your slouched posture. You drop your hand to your side with a soft sigh.

“Can I have just another minute or two?” you ask, not quite ready to bear the weight of the thick uchikake that they’ve come to drape you in. 

But when you look over your shoulder, it’s not the attendants who have entered — it’s Kai. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him in his montsuki haori hakama. While you of course knew what a groom wore during a Shinto ceremony, seeing Kai in the outfit stuns you. With the black haori, matching kimono, and striped hakama, he looks every bit the part of the Hassaikai’s wakagashira. 

He’s always looked good in the suits he wears, but there’s something about seeing him dressed so traditionally that makes your cheeks feel warm. When your gaze finally returns to his face, you’re relieved that he’s chosen to wear a simple black face mask like you’re accustomed to seeing him in rather than the beak-like one that you detest.

As your eyes meet his, you give him a weak smile and turn back to the window. His steps are soft against the tatami as he moves to join you.

“It’s raining,” you needlessly point out with a small frown. 

“Rain washes things clean,” he replies and somehow, the simple statement manages to put you slightly at ease. Silence settles over you both and the longer that it stretches on, the louder you hear the attendant’s words echoing in your head.

“One of the women said something when she was dressing me,” you eventually blurt out. When you hesitate, he gives you a hum to continue. “She said fate put us on the same path.”

Even without looking at him, you can tell that the sentiment pleases him. 

“She’s right. This is where you belong.” It’s such an expected response that you would feel annoyed if your mind wasn’t already so preoccupied.

“With the Hassaikai?” you gently scoff.

“With me,” he’s quick to answer, his firm tone giving you pause. 

You glance at him to find that his attention is already focused on you rather than the view of the garden. The weight of his gaze feels almost as heavy as your shiromuku and when you can no longer meet it, you look back out the window.

“How…” you begin before trailing off. You hesitantly bite your lip as you consider your words. “How do you think Dad will react when he finds out we’re married?”

You try not to linger on how your question is predicated on the optimistic assumption that your father will wake from his coma. When Kai doesn’t immediately answer you, you sigh.

“He’ll probably be happy,” you say dryly. “All that work he did to force me into marrying a yakuza and he got what he wanted in the end.”

An unexpected wave of exhaustion overwhelms you, and you bring a tired hand to your forehead. You’re certain that right now, you’re the antithesis of a blushing bride. 

“I told the old man I would marry you.”

Your hand drops at the sudden admission and when you turn to him with wide eyes, you find that he’s now looking out the window. 

“When he tried to marry you off, marry you away, I told him that you should marry me.” His frown is hidden beneath his mask, but you can see the tension lining his eyes. “But he said no.”

The questions come to you in a flurry. Why did your father turn him down? Why didn’t Kai tell you? How long has he been planning this? Has he been waiting years to marry you? How different would your life be if you had married him? Does any of it really matter now that you are married?

But with all of the questions that your mind is racing with, there’s one that comes to the surface. Is he in love with you? 

You feel stupid for thinking it. It’s a dumb thing for a wife to wonder about her husband, even if the labels are still new. But mostly, the idea of love is something that you’ve never considered of Kai. 

You’re not so naive as to think that his intentions toward you have only ever been chaste or innocent. In fact, innocent is a word you would never use to describe him. He’s spent enough nights in your bed over the years for you to know that he’s attracted to you on at least a physical level. 

Likewise, you’re not blind to his faults. He’s a dangerous man who does violent work. He’s obstinate to a frustrating degree. And his nature has always been possessive — of the Shie Hassakai’s power and reputation, of the territory that he perceives as rightfully theirs, and of you. 

Maybe for him, that is love.

And he’s always watched over you. He’s protected you. He never abandoned you. He kept you from harm. That’s more important than something as ephemeral as love could ever be. 

“What were you going to do? If I ended up married to some other yakuza?” you finally ask. When Kai turns to face you, you’re unsurprised by the dark look in his eyes.

“I would have killed him.” His response is a threat, but there’s no heat or anger in his tone. He tells you his plan to free you from a forced marriage with the same sort of indifference he would if he were telling you the sky is blue. 

You should probably be horrified that he’s talking so easily about murdering someone. But the tears that you can feel beginning to form aren’t from fear. You take a step toward him and close the gap between you before dropping your forehead to his chest. A gloved hand immediately comes up to rest on the back of your neck and keep you close.

“Always looking out for me, huh?” you murmur with a wet laugh, a faint smile tugging at your lips. He gives your neck a reassuring squeeze. 

Ever since you first brought Kai to your father all those years ago, he’d treated him like the son he never had. You had seen him look past Kai’s flaws as easily as you always have. But if his adopted son had openly gone against him to kill the man he intended for you to marry, you don’t know what he would have done. 

He was willing to risk it all to keep you safe. If that isn’t love, then you’re not sure what is — you don’t care what it is. To you, it’s everything. 

You clutch the fabric on his haori in a pitiful attempt to tug him closer. Despite your best efforts, you can feel a tear escape and roll down your cheek. You quickly brush it away with another sniffle.

Once you no longer feel like you’re about to shed any further tears, you lift your head, although his hand on your nape doesn’t let you go far. Slowly, your hand releases its grip on him and you run your palm over the material to smooth over any wrinkles you may have caused.

Your gaze settles on the symbol embroidered over his chest — the Shie Hassaikai’s emblem in place of where a family crest would traditionally be. You carefully trace the white thread.

“You know, it suits you,” you tell him with a soft smile. You glance up at him and nod meaningfully to his haori, the one in the style of the Shie Hassaikai’s kumicho. With an affectionate touch, you then straighten the front of his kimono, although it’s a needless gesture. You then give him a gentle push. “Get out of here. I have to finish getting ready.”

[darkfictionjude]

Okay so I know this is a touchy subject already especially since certain people have already been bitchy about it before, but sometimes Crowny is genuinely difficult to play as. I feel super conflicted about them since they're the literal personification of "damn bitch you live like this?"

Realistically, progress isn't linear and different people get different results even if they do the exact same thing, but as of now it feels like they aren't really allowed to improve at all. If you study you're still mediocre leaning towards bad in terms of understanding. You try to workout you see absolutely no results, not even the tiniest bit. When it comes to the other characters, it's always one step forward and two steps back. When you give them a hobby or try to get them to pick up a skill they find little enjoyment. When people bother them they barely fight back or even argue, and when they do it's like a sarcastic quip or a grumble at most. By the end, they haven't even made a dent. These don't make them less of a person and it doesn't make them a failure since the world is quite literally out to get them, but it's like they aren't allowed any satisfaction in their life. (Yeah it's been like a month, maybe barely scratching two in the current timeline so maybe this contradicts what I first said about progress but I'm dumb as hell)

It's wild to go from the side quests, backstory segments, interactions with the ROs and then Crown family just for all the hype to fade when there's a segment with just Crowny all alone. I know that there's a reason for why they are the way they are, but I literally have to take breaks from reading their solitary moments sometimes because it seems to drag on. I know things aren't easy in this universe, I know the world is supposed to be cruel and unfair, but like can they at least get a cake for their efforts? Or a hug? Or be able to sleep through one night and wake up well rested?

I hope I'm not sounding like an asshole or a insane here. Personally, they're relatable in a lot of aspects. I may not have had supernatural shit going after me, but I had a lot of issues that many of their experiences brush way too close to. It's just the way it's presented that makes them feel like they're like the random piece of chewy cartilage in an otherwise perfectly cooked steak, unpleasant but I'm gonna eat it anyway.

I literally just wrote a whole ass book complaining, but I at least wanna say I do love your work, Crowny included even if my words seem to say otherwise, and I'm super excited to see what happens in the timeskip since i know this is like JUST the beginning. I'm like seriously praying my tone is coming off the right way if that's even possible. If you read through all this thanks. I'm not gonna hide behind anon because I at least wanna be able to explain myself if this comes across wrong.

but like can they at least get a cake for their efforts? Or a hug? Or be able to sleep through one night and wake up well rested?

Well no 😭😭

And that comes from the fact that they are self loathing, depressed as hell and have virtually no support system while dealing with things that they aren’t mature enough to handle, actually their mental health is getting far worse which is by design

I feel like perhaps some readers have not realized just how depressed crowny is. All the things you described about them finding little enjoyment, etc., are key markers of major clinical depression

I feel also people did miss the fact that crowny kind of exploded in the library they didn’t shut up, they didn’t let it go which I think is a positive because this is the first time they’ve have enough to say “enough”

Sorry but I like my things slow burn 💀 that Halloween party is meant to be a breakthrough for them and I think perhaps it’s been glossed over by some because what happened to James has gotten the most attention and the final moment in the woods. Crowny outed their “friends” for the first ever and fought back against their tormentor in only one single night. James for all his issues did the one thing that broke the camel’s back and pushed Crowny over the edge, all 7 episodes have led to this

Crowny is meant to fall before they come up that’s how I wanted it because realistically someone could not handle all of this without losing their mind. It has barely been two months, Crowny has only seriously hit the main plot in episode 4 which in the current timeline was about 3 weeks ago (from episode 7)

Truly the progress that crowny did make in episode 7 should have taken longer, people with crowny’s issues spend years in therapy before they feel they have the right to fight back.

There’s a reason episode 7 is the midseason finale. It’s not only about the plot but about crowny themself….

Dw you’re tune is fine I can usually tell when someone doesn’t think before they write 😭

[blackbat05]

Night time Comfort - Sincaraz

Plot: Set after R4 against Holger at AO. Carlos decides to make a trip to check in on Jannik.

A/N: Ummm so my first Sincaraz fic?!! Much thanks to @ohohoseok cuz she gave me ideas from her own fixations?🫶🏽😆 Enjoy!

“Game, set, match. Sinner.”

Carlos switches off the tv with a sigh of relief. Although he felt sad for Holger, but he was glad that Jannik had made it out of the excruciating Australian heat with a much needed win.

“He didn’t look good. For a moment I thought he was going to retire.” Juan Carlos observes.

“Jannik’s strong,” Carlos says with admiration. “I would have. It’s why he’s the best.”

Juan Carlos and Alberto’s stares to each other don’t go unnoticed by the young star. Carlos stands and changes out of his hotel room wear.

“Carlos, where are you going?”

“Honey lemon.” Carlos blurts out and quickly adds, “The match made me thirsty.” He grabs his keycard and makes a beeline for the door to stop the onslaught of questioning from his coach.

“Sure, honey lemon.” Alberto snorts.

***

Carlos tugs at his tee for what is the umpteenth time on the way up to Jannik’s room. Would it be too intrusive? Would he look too aggressive? Would Jannik be well enough to talk to him?

The lift stops at the designated floor and Carlos’ feet suddenly feel like lead. He takes a deep breath and walks to Jannik’s room, hoping that he has managed to catch the star of the day.

The door opens as Carlos is mere feet away from it and Simone steps out together with Darren who spots him holding a bag of drinks.

“Carlos!” Simone strides over. Before Carlos can even come up with an excuse, Simone rattles away, “Could you stay with Jannik for a while please? It won’t take long. I have to cancel the courts tomorrow and Darren has a last minute interview with the press.”

Carlos is wide-eyed at the request but like the champ he is, he recovers quickly and agrees.

Which is how he found himself in the same room. Alone. With Jannik who is currently sleeping, blissfully unaware of his presence.

Carlos is at a lost. He’ll just have to rely on his mechanical movements to get him around the room. First, honey lemon in the fridge-

“Carlos?”

Crap. Clumsy! He thinks. Carlos turns around and he almost has to steady himself on the mini bar at the sight of Jannik who looks absolutely adorable and confused at the sight of him.

Jannik grasps his glasses at the bedside and switches on the lights. “Carlos, why are you in the dark? You could be hurt.”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” A moment of silence passes and Carlos holds up the bottle of honey lemon awkwardly. “For you! If you want to drink now.”

Carlos nearly topples the bottle on the table that has Jannik cracking a smile. “I would like one.”

Carlos grabs a bottle and places the other in the fridge. He shuffles over to Jannik and hovers where Jannik is propped up on a bunch of pillows.

“Carlos, sit.” Jannik offers.

“No, no. You need the space.”

“Please.”

How could Carlos deny Jannik’s request when the Italian is looking at him behind those thick rimmed glasses so innocently?

Carlos looks around the room and finds a solution. “Could I? Uh…” He points to the makeshift sofa bed. “I can push it together.”

“There’s more than enough space for two of us.” Jannik pats the bed beside him, unaware the effect that his action has on Carlos.

“It’s okay, I’m strong. I don’t want to dirty the bed.” Carlos insists and speedily gets to work, pushing the sofa bed towards Jannik who looks amused. After displaying a show of strength, Carlos hops onto the sofa.

“Great game today.”

“Did you not see me? I almost felt like throwing up.” Jannik responds. “You’re too nice.”

“I’m serious.” Carlos frowns. “You were great out there today.”

“Thank you Carlos. I just hope I’ll get enough rest to be ready for the quarter finals.”

“Then rest.” Carlos says, moving closer to Jannik to help him with the pillows. “Simone and Darren should be back soon. I’ll be here.” Carlos pauses.

“That is if you’re okay with it.”

***

“Darren!” Juan Carlos calls out. “Did you see Carlos by any chance? He was supposed to be back an hour ago.”

The older man shakes his head. “But I think I might have an idea…”

The pair heads up to Jannik’s room where Simone is already outside, signaling them to maintain silence.

“They’re sleeping.” Simone tells them, opening the door to the dimly lit room.

Juan Carlos quietly follows them in to find a sight to behold: The sofa bed pushed to be side by side to the bed, his student crammed uncomfortably on the mentioned sofa bed, sleeping without a care in a world, with Jannik wrapped in a blanket beside him.

“Carlos? Wake up.” Juan Carlos nudges him gently.

“Eh?” Carlos blinks the sleep out of his eyes to find the three men staring down at him. “Sorry! I forgot the time.” Carlos fumbles slightly but remembers not to wake the ginger at his side.

After a couple of hushed goodbyes (and Carlos’ insisting that they leave as soon as possible to not disrupt Jannik’s sleep, the pair leaves to head back to their room with Carlos unusually quiet on their way back down.

Still, Juan Carlos does not let this golden opportunity pass.

“So…”

“Not a word Juan Carlos. Not a word.”

[xesnox]

(Post fall) Ancient builder x Illager toxic old man yaoi when

WIP, was planning on doing a ref for every human race but a mutual of mine practically begged me to post these two on their own so you’re probably gonna see this image again. Colors are not yet where I want them to be so I’ll definitely go over it a few more times.

I’d like to take this moment to point out that the way you summon allays in legends, where you play as an ancient builder, is pretty similar to the way evokers summon vexes.

Design / AU rant below cut, as always.

This one’s a little worse written than usual, I’m just rambling.

I practically have an infinite amount of Ancient builder designs because I draw them differently with every piece depending on how I’m feeling, but for this design I got more genuinely speculative and turned on my pattern recognition.

Steve and Alex are canonically 6’2, both of them, and all undead mobs seem to be the same height, if not taller than they are, so I made them average around 6’5. To add to that, all undead builder mobs either don’t have eyes or have solid coloured glowing ones, so I went with the latter.

Minecraft isn’t a stranger to making lifeforms appearances change drastically depending on circumstance, this render is of an Ancient builder post wither attack, around ancient city time, which meant I could adopt the idea the devs mentioned about villagers/illagers, of human skin turning desaturated if they stay out of the sun for long enough, which, if the single generation of Illagers already show signs of I bet the god knows how many decade long underground escapades of the builders probably hit ‘em hard with that trait.

I also for the longest time for some reason forgot cosmetics were very likely a thing, so they’ve got some protection spells and luck enchantments tattooed, both of them do. Doesn’t work very well, as one can probably guess. But they’re superstitious so it felt in character enough.

For the post wither attack Ancient builders I also tend to think of them as more frail, not only because they had no access to their former overworld food supplies and had to rely on the little stuff that did grow in complete lack of sunlight underground, which definitely wasn’t a lot, but also because beyond the military force that did seem to remain from the nether war (ancient city structure name: Barracks, disk 5 marching.) they definitely were no longer strong enough to properly defend themselves against the wither or the warden/mourner on their own accord.

And because they were cowards and skedaddled when the overworld was in danger AND got beat up by the piglin despite being the main kingdom in power which I just find really funny. So think tall and boney but hiding it under a lot of clothing layers to still appear strong. Definitely can’t put on armor anymore though, that back would snap like a twig.

When it comes to the robes I used some of my older armor template designs for reference, made them black and blue to fit the most well known ancient builder sprite as well as vaguely match the one of the evoker. Because, oh well, you caught me, I do believe the cargo cult theory. Got my own interpretation but I’ll leave it at that till the next bestiary entry.

I generally want the villagers to look more varied, and human, while the builders, both neo and ancient, look more unsettling, as if they’re clearly a person, but something just looks, or moves wrong. They’re too symmetrical. Too far removed from what once was flawed but sincerely their own.

A lot of villager beauty standards are inspired by medieval-renaissance era Europe, like for an example having a larger visible forehead and appearing more boxy in shape being seen as more visually appealing, I think despite the illagers trying to subvert that they do still live in a society, so having grown accustomed to it as children they probably still at-least somehow adhere to the beauty standards they know, whether consciously or not.

They perform similar experiments on themselves as the builders, they’re just ever so slightly worse at it, as they haven’t been doing it for as long, so it leaves marks like scarring or visible stitching, though I believe they wear these with pride.

There’s gonna be a dedicated post about them at some point, as I said so I don’t know how much of my design I want to pick apart for now, but I’ll just leave it at that for now.

Here’s some alternative versions.

[crtakespropogandist]

CR 3 finale dump pt. 3 - Putting my finger on it

I enjoyed the campaign while I was watching it for the most part, because the cast's antics and chemistry always make me smile. But I invariably engaged the most during the tie-ins and cameos bringing back the PCs and NPCs from previous campaigns, and I couldn't summon the same investment for this one. I was ruminating on why that was, and here is what I came up with:

Campaign 3 didn't "work" like the other two because the characters, the plot, and the setting were not integrated. Matt had an epic storyline in mind that could dramatically change Exandria. He also had two lovingly designed settings, Marquet and Ruidus, the fruits of great collaborative labor that he wanted to show off. Finally, he wanted to let his friends have total control in conceptualizing their characters. The result is that the players and Matt seemed really afraid of stepping on each other's (and the other creatives') toes, and the narrative hurt for it.

Character hooks led away from the plot and setting. Setting hooks led away from the plot and characters. Plot hooks led away from the setting and characters. The cast ultimately had to follow the plot, leaving PCs uninvested and locations underutilized along with all their resident NPCs. Freaking Vox Machina had stronger relationships with Marquesian NPCs.

Yet Matt was still discouraged from taking time away from exploring new places and meeting new people for a deeper dive on Delilah Briarwood. Why didn't Ludinus give Tal'Dorei a heads up when the Briarwoods became fugitives? Did he help them in exchange for residuum? Did they steal his obsessive research on the Matron's ritual for Vecna to use? Maybe Jiana Hexum knows something abou...oop BH left Jrusar and forgot all about her. Matt was also discouraged from leaving shiny new Marquet any earlier for Aeor 2: Electric Boogaloo, which left FCG high and dry. The self-imposed balance between the three key story elements was impossible to maintain in a satisfactory way.

VM and M9 are native to their campaigns' respective continents (except my boy Tary ofc), and the plot evolved organically from personal stakes intrinsic to those settings. Moments like "I am no friend to the empire" and "It's Lady Vex'ahlia" are off the table when the party is Oops! All Transients. The worst irony is that Matt undermined the players' autonomy by unilaterally deciding that Caleb and Beau utterly fumbled the task Liam and Marisha set them to in their C2 epilogues. Liam's frustration at the Key scene was palpable. My fellow viewers who only hopped aboard on Campaign 3 can get weirdly defensive against C2's "encroachment" and C2 enjoyers (also fellows of mine) wishing it would "encroach" more. Ludinus was introduced in C2. The ruins of Aeor and Molaesmyr are in Wildmount. Dunamancy is centralized in Wildmount. The Nein spent time in Aeor, in Uthodurn, in the Dynasty. The Nein have gods. What experiments did Ludinus conduct in Vergessen? What are the specifics about what Ludinus did in Molaesmyr, what he's done throughout his life of scheming? It's pretty safe to guess that the Nein would have found out given another chance. Could you imagine how Campaign 2 might have panned out if Beau and Caleb reeeaaally grilled Demid Sunlash and followed up on where he went? (Also Ruidusborn!Essek would have made so much sense I'm vibrating) (Also also d'ya think Eadwulf was always supposed to be a real Matron follower, or could he have been set up as a Paragon's Call/Vanguard type reporting to Ludinus?)

The Mighty Nein are a party with a collective INT that blows BH out of the water. Even as someone introduced to the stream via BH, I can't help but agree with Beau's "Why not us?" comments. Why not give the Wildmount party the Wildmount BBEG? Why not give Bell's Hells the kind of story that encourages them to be little NPC-coded freaks pushing each other's big red buttons just to see what happens? Why not give Marquet a party that calls it home?

The answer is because we got this instead, and I'm kinda sad about it. If BH gets animated, that show is a lost cause if some fundamental changes aren't made.