crguang

[crguang]

Is ptn the only gacha you play now? trying to quit gachas altogether myself, although i'm still in too deep TvT. they're so predatory yet i can't stop falling for their mechanics.

for now yes… i’ll be getting nagi’s wengine in zzz and deleting that too afterwards because apart from jane that game doesn��t interest me either hdjfkjdif quitting gachas is so hard bc the fomo is real omg. it took me a while to quit genshin just because i didn’t want to miss on primogems like the addiction is real😭😭

[crguang]

Hi! I’ve been following you for a while and love your posts. I did notice that when you move away from a game, your tone shifts from really positive to kind of bitter, it reminds me of how hard it can be to fall out of love with something you once enjoyed. Just wanted to share that feeling. Tbh, I'm slowly going the same way with some of the games that I play, idk. It makes me sad to think about the good times, but people move on ig. If it’s weird hearing this from a stranger, no worries at all, just ignore & delete (I truly didn't mean this w any negative intent, sorry if this comes off poorly)

it’s not weird— you’re so right😭😭 i often get bitter near the end because it’s a lot of stuff that pile up and make a game/interest less enjoyable for me in the end which is a shame… everything annoyed me with hsr so i had to get away from it but i tried to stay through amphoreus and all and it just didn’t work bc i dont like the direction the game is going. its always hard deleting something i’ve spent so many hours of my life playing and creating for but i guess that’s just how things are </3 it sucks but there’s not much to do, i’m not having fun with the game anymore. i still love my favorite characters from it ofc and you’ll have to pry kafka off our intertwined dead bodies before i let her go but yeah, there’s no joy in it now 😞

[crguang]

lost my 50/50 to that ugly child and her pet robot so i deleted hsr once and for all #freedom!!!!! rip kafka forever e0 i hate you i hope you die alone

[crguang]

Hi! I do not know if you still remember me but I am that one anonymous who thought they were straight and were kinda bad at English and loved the love language fic of Himeko!

I think it's a year now since I have sent that ask. With In that months I truly belleve that l am a lesbian! After your response I had thought about it over and over for a million of times and so I decided to test if I really liked women or not. Via going to a lesbian bar hahahaha. The moment I stepped in to the bar there were so many pretty women, I felt myself get embarrassed! there was this one girl that had red hair and long nails with a crop top turtleneck flirt with me!! I felt my brain turn in to mush…. Ahhh she’s now my girlfriend I love her!!! I found out I have type for femmes because of her.

Thank you for advice that made me to who I am now. Very thankful for replying to my ask too because if it were not for that I wouldn’t have met the love of my life.

oh my goodness this made me tear up a little. i do remember you!! i am so, so happy for you and so proud of you for putting yourself out there at such a confusing time in your life. i’m also so glad that my words had such a positive impact on you, be it my fic or my response— seriously, my heart is so full right now <333 from himeko to a redhead huh… you have a type! i hope you two are having the best time together. wishing you lots and lots of happiness and love in your relationship, and again, it makes me very happy to know you’ve figured yourself out!!!! from one lesbian to another, keep being you lesbianism is wonderful 💕💕

[crguang]

hiii sat! what do you think about my girl parfait? i fell in love with her first sight but i’d like to know your thoughts!

hi! mmm i’ll be honest jdjfkgk when she was first drip marketed i thought i would like her because while she seemed a bit silly i assumed her role in the main story would be bigger than it was but i can’t lie i was really disappointed… i didn’t think they would choose the full on unserious route with her character and even if there’s nothing wrong with that, i found the execution lacking. i first thought she would be a social commentary on eastsider’s classism through her status as a finance guru or whatever but she ended up not doing much and her character arc had some discrepancies i just couldn’t look over. she was clearly there for comedic relief and less so because she was important to the plot, and her introduction was so tonally different from the rest of the story thus far that it gave me whiplash😭 sibilla had just been fatally wounded and was bleeding out on her floor but everything was put on pause so parfait could be silly and funny. i really didn’t enjoy it personally, i feel like all of her appearances were for laughs even at the end when the story is so weighty?? she’s in the same patch as jasmine, a literal victim of war, but when you compare both roles in the story parfait’s is so… unserious.

she ended up being a syndican who manipulated and bullshitted her way through the financial eastside scene, which was unexpected but not inherently bad, but then her inner conflict was presented as “i miss home, wealth and fame is draining” while completely ignoring her complicity in nirvana and other big corporations’s financial oppression on syndicans, which include her family…? her character has no stakes. her family and friends still adore her even though we know her aunt hates rich people and nirvana. when she crashes the market she gets a slap on the wrist afterwards. she claims to believe in equality in art and that wealth doesn’t determine good art, which is true, but apart from talking about it and inviting some friends to her dinners or to concerts, she does nothing to support that point. she’s incredibly wealthy and obviously loves her life as a rich woman (even if she pretends otherwise as an excuse to go home lol), but she’s not a very good person. her care for syndicate and her family is extremely superficial. the story tries to sell her as a good person through her inner conflict and having her help sibilla in the end, but 1) she was more concerned about being found out than a person bleeding to death in her living room, 2) she had to be bribed to even hear her out, 3) she could do so much to change minds or help syndicans appreciate the arts like she so claims to want but does nothing. fund a school. a scholarship. an art program. literally anything to help those struggling but she doesn’t do anything. like, raye is a teacher who dedicates her time and resources towards educating poor children because they have no other way of getting a fair education. parfait talks about how being poor doesn’t mean you can’t make good art then calls herself a professional hedonist and keeps on blindingly enjoying her life as a wealthy person while enriching the same corporations that actively oppress the poor…??3)3)3?

TLDR; im disappointed. she has a unique perspective as a syndican born but respected eastside financier but she wants nothing more than to look at art and have fun which is just boring to me. i think her role in the story served to introduce the sillage society but even then she accomplished very little like an npc couldve done what parfait has done in the latest chapter. she’s uninteresting, i dont find her funny or endearing and idk i feel cheated bc i rlly thought i would like her 😭 she’s a naive, willfully ignorant person who loves her wealth and doesn’t care for any real change even though she keeps yapping on and on about it. the most insufferable kind of person imo im sorrybfjfkg her character is superficial in every way, truly not aisno’s best work.

sorry for bashing her like that but wow she really irritates me mostly because everyone else did their job well but she just?? didn’t do anything of value?? i know she caused nirvana’s stocks to crash and like, good on her i guess but all the praise goes to sibilla who almost died a hundred times trying to get people to care for her cause. so to me she did nothing serious because no one cared at all afterwards, she got no negative consequences for her actions so whatever. no stakes, no depth, she’s just a fraud

[crguang]

https://www.tumblr.com/garlicbunny/791026429677780992?source=share thought you’d like this hehe

me and yugu path to nowhere hehehehehehe. also me and uni but shes the one doing it to me this time <3 the way more than one person saw this art and thought of me lmfao😭

yugu having the guts to do this is still so incredibly hot to me though like she really lives for symbolism… i respect it. she would totally let me graze her ribs for a touch of her heart

[crguang]

Will there be another wasted with longing chapter? I just finished reading all of the parts and I'm severely addicted and in need of a new chapter. Your writing is so amazing I can't even come up with words to describe how extraordinary it is 🥹

hi, god, thank you for the kind words that series is so old but im happy it still gets new readers. im trying to compile my story notes bc its been a while since i wrote the latest chapter and i dont remember the timeline or half if what i had planned next 😭 but hopefully a new one comes out eventually, i do love the idea of kafka on her knees begging for forgiveness in that particular way of hers.

oh but, ok, i have a question for everyone about it— ive been stuck on this for a while, but i made the death count 19 people in chapter 4 and ive scolded myself for it many times because i feel like its too high for R to forget and forgive. they were never going to “forget” but the forgiveness part (or at least, giving kaf another chance) is something ive always planned for, so i want to know— if you were actually R, what would it take for her to be forgiven? how long would it take? everyone’s different, but i dont want it to be too quick either bc that incident weighs a lot on R and it wouldn’t make sense. if the reason for it is good enough, would it help? keep in mind that kaf lives by “the end justifies the means” and she’s always seeing the big picture of things. if she did those things to prevent something bigger, would you forgive her?

ive wondered this for a while and i need to come to a conclusion to write chapter 5 especially bc its the one where kaf explains a few things. but yeah, let me know!!

[crguang]

Hi just wanted to let you know that I still come back to wasted with longing every once in a while when I need to get my rocks off :3

oh my goodness thank u hgdsgfsf god i was rereading chapter 3 and will reread the 4th one today because i was thinking of writing a new one and needed to be familiarized with the plot again and i was so. the first two chapters are so hungry what was i on 😭😭😭 i can tell how different my writing is now (hopefully i’ve improved) so we’ll see how that new chapter comes along its been so long. havent written for kaf in a hot minute too i gotta ease back into it

[crguang]

kafka rerun soon…im never getting e6 atp

-🌠

i swear you’re in my brain i tweeted that sentence and 20 mins later i got this ask like woah. im never getting that e6 either idk if i should pull for her cons or lc even if its useless as hell now or if i should go for hysilens so she can make my current kaf better. ugh. this game annoys me

[crguang]

GUESS WHO'S BACK 🔥🔥🔥 HIMEKO HAS SOME COMPETITION BECAUSE DAMN?? AGLAEA?????? THAT'S OK THEY CAN BOTH BE MY QUEENS

- Himeko fan who got dragged away by signalis

you getting back into hsr when im pulling out is so jgfdhhdss and for aglaea of course, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest but it is quite unfortunate considering her character story… i love agy she kept me going through amphoreus. i haven’t done phainon’s update yet bc im losing interest but kafka’s rerunning so i will eventually for those funds. the himeko to aglaea pipeline is more real than u think…

[crguang]

“To look at romance through the lens of reason,” Aglaea mutters, expression twisting as if she’d just bitten into something particularly tart. “How scholarly. Will you draw a graph next?”

Your laugh is soft, a gentle breeze dancing through the leaves. The butterflies in her gut stir, the flutter of their wings in time with her heart. “My inclination to perceive our world through the lens of rationality is inherent, I’m afraid. But, alright. I’ll indulge you, weaver.”

Your finger begins tracing idle lines on the velvet plushness of her belly, a touch so tender it borders on ticklish. “For the sake of this hypothetical, let X be time, and Y be my affections…”

She almost lets out an undignified snort. “Are you not familiar with the concept of jest?”

“Hush, sweet thing,” you reply, amused by the almost petulant acidity in her voice. It is only in these stolen moments with you that the Aglaea long forgotten by Okhema shows her delicate face again—that pampered, spoiled little noble girl forced to grow up too quickly. “Did I not say I would indulge you?”

Another petty noise leaves her soft lips, and you take it as a sign to continue. “With these as our axes, how then shall I graph the change in my affections over time? Perhaps, it would be an ever-increasing gradient.”

Your finger draws a curve on her skin, skirting around her navel, which plateaus into a straight line. “Perhaps there will be stationary points. Or, more excitingly, an asymptote.”

“I do believe this is the first time I have ever heard an asymptote be described as exciting,” Aglaea says mildly, though she makes no move to stop you, far too interested in whatever eventual conclusion you will reach now. You smile at her, knowingly, your finger returning to their original axes between her hips.

“Such possibilities are endless,” you hum, leaning down to bring your face closer to hers—close enough she can feel the warmth of your breath on her cheek. “But my answer is rather simple; for this graph of mine is one that tends to infinity.”

Your finger traces up and up, higher up the length of her body until it rests beneath her breast, above her heart. You smooth your palm over milky skin, feeling the steady rhythm of her pulse as it jumps at your touch. Aglaea does not need her threads to know your expression now is one of tender fondness, but also that your lips are quirked into that impossibly smug smile.

“Wouldn’t you say that’s romantic, my weaver?”

She scoffs, and yet her hand encircles your wrist, drawing you close. “I’d say you’re spending far too long with the bards and poets.”

“Ah, perhaps you just inspire me so—“

She shuts you up in the spirit of Mnestia with a kiss, her free hand sliding into your hair and cradling the back of your head. Your own cups the curve of her waist, thumb brushing reverently over her side. Beneath her sternum, warmth unfurls like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis—and Aglaea, for once, lets it fly free.

[crguang]

attempting to fight writer's block with vampire cabernet and failing so hard i feel like i fell from a 4 stories building and hit my head. at least that would explain why i can't finish anything i write rn... but anyway. forcing myself to post my writing even if i hate it bc others might not. or something

cw: blood drinking, kind of a hostage situation but it's cabernet so who's surprised

—

Thin strands of hair brush across your cheek from the redhead bending over you, a caress as familiar as the weight of her on your chest and her soft fingertips around your jaw guiding it sideways. You comply. She tells you it won’t hurt and to be good for her. Her lies have become irrelevant, so you comply. Her breath fans over the left side of your neck, just above your external jugular vein, her favourite spot. She’d been too eager last time, lost in a hungry haze after a week long starvation from her prized dish due to some business affairs you didn’t further inquire about, and she had cut too deep. Her teeth had left pulsing red indents on your skin, enough to bring tears to your eyes and cries from your lips, and only then had she stopped to gaze at you with a bloodstained chin and blown pupils. You remember the void of her eyes when you’re left alone in the dark. She had resembled an innocent barn owl caught with a full belly, subdued and slow, staring down at you without a trace of cognition within the two rose-rimmed pools of black on her face, her head still tilted towards your throat. The mess of her flamed hair was no longer deliberate but the result of her mindless attack on your neck; a few had stuck to the leaking puncture wounds like the shape of her mouth embedded on your body hadn’t been a clear enough indicator of her claim on you. Long seconds had passed, her whimpers of pleasure replaced by your pained moans, before she registered what she had done. She had waited long, boring weeks for the wounds to scar and begin to fade— months of contenting herself with your forearms and thighs, months of pouting and  longing stares, before she could finally find herself here, a hair’s breath away from your jugular. 

“May I?” Cabernet’s headiness involuntarily turns the mindless courtesy into a needy moan. She kisses your skin once, twice, then inhales deeply: a vaguely unsettling habit before sinking her teeth into you.

She doesn’t wait a second for your answer, can’t. Her lips are at your neck and you stare out the open window to the night sky beyond. Your fingers briefly coil around the sheets, but the pain is like her: familiar. You are used to her as one gets used to an invasive smell. You no longer endure her touch, though you wouldn’t say it is entirely welcomed either; it just is. It comes and goes, sharper when her fangs ache with a craving and easy to ignore on nights like this one where you serve as a midnight snack. Like all inevitable things, it’s no use fighting it. Having taken out your contact lenses prior to climbing into bed earlier tonight, you’re unable to discern any possible star in the sky. Through your blurry vision, it instead takes the shape of a dull colored blanket caging your thoughts inside the walls of this oppressive, luxurious mansion. They rarely stray elsewhere nowadays. 

Cabernet is not unkind. She is particular and rigid, but always with a smile. She dresses you in tailored satin and soft cotton, brings over the most esteemed chefs of Discity should you have preferences she hasn't accounted for, lets you decorate the room next to hers and calls it yours. Her wealth is generous and you are expected to abuse it; everything you could ever want stands at your fingertips granted Cabernet is holding your hand. At first, the extravagance was blinding enough to hide the purse of her lips when you refused to wear the carefully picked blouse whose lacy sleeves she cuffed around your wrists herself during an outing and its correlation with the subsequent harsher feeding session she pulled you into in the same dressing room. While she overwhelmed you with dozens of gourmet dishes named in languages you didn’t know existed, it didn’t occur to you that she was meticulously choosing what would become your new diet. Cabernet handles you carefully, redesigns a storage room into a home gym to ensure you don’t stray too far and hurt yourself, has the flower arrangements in your bedroom replaced every few days for an artificial breath of fresh air, cleans the crimson streaks around your wounds with the touch of a lover— and she does it all with smiling eyes and a hand on your thigh. Over time, you realized that these gifts were instead rewards. They come in exchange for your good behaviour, which doesn’t necessarily mean docile; she particularly enjoys the heat in your eyes when you strongly react to one of her deliberate little taunts. She’s always more affectionate when you’re angry, her fangs to your throat for longer than she knows they should be. Though genuine, there is no space for selflessness in her heart, only bottomless greed.

You wonder if you should replace the wilting violets on your windowsill with bright Egyptian starclusters tomorrow. Their gorgeous snow-white petals might serve as a pale substitute for the stars you can’t see at night. 

The indulgent pulls of Cabernet’s sucking lips slow to a rhythm you recognize as contentment. Her hold on your jaw slackens. An absentminded caress or two of her rounded nails under your chin and her hand withdraws altogether. She inhales, long and deep, her nose pressed to your neck, then finishes up with a soft sigh across your skin, the flat of her tongue swiping over the fresh wounds and greedily gathering the last few drops of blood pearling there. Lazily, she pulls away from you to wipe the corner of her lips as she straightens up above you. Her gaze settles on the far-away look on your face, eyelids low and eyes unseeing. You lie beneath her with your arms limp at your sides like the good girl she told you to be, your palms flat on her cream colored sheets, and were it not for the pulse of your veins against her mouth a moment earlier, she could have thought you a corpse. Cabernet’s hand travels up to your chest— warm and pounding with a vitality you no longer express.

“Mmh…” She drapes herself on top of you without a care for your comfort, leaning closer to inspect the colors of your eyes. A manicured finger pulls at the skin right below. “I was always fond of those wide, bright eyes of yours. So curious. So lovely. Where have they gone, I wonder?”

Her voice is a sultry purr, like a sleepy cat about to settle for a nap but no less predatory, and her words vibrate on your cheek from her closeness. The metallic scent of blood reaches your trained nose.

You force yourself to respond because her inquiry is not rhetorical, though you’re currently uninterested in encouraging what she considers bedtime pleasantries. “You sucked the life out of them like you do everything else.”

Her following laugh is expected, amused behind smiling lips. You matter too little for your contempt to be anything but entertaining, a verbally defiant pet too worn to step out of her hold. And she does hold you, curls an arm around your neck and presses closer, a red veil over your eyes and her condescending tone tickling your ear. 

“Is that what you think?” Cabernet hums deep in her throat, and you feel the tip of her tongue teasingly trail up your earlobe. “Mmm, you’re still as alluring as when you first stepped through my doors, naive and eager for recognition… You can pretend all you want.” Her teeth sink into the flesh, drawing blood that she happily sucks clean. She feels the shift of your heartbeat against her palm. “Corpses don’t taste as sweet.”

Then she sighs petulantly and releases you almost completely, sitting up on your lap for a better view. You don’t see the slight narrow of her eyes, only feel her nails at your jaw redirecting your gaze to hers. Her satin shawl has slipped down her shoulders, baring the elegant column of her neck and her sharp collarbones. You can't fully distinguish the intricacies of the lace across her chest nor the pale flush of her skin as she regards you under these dim lights, but you’ve learned the tells of her hunger and tonight it makes itself known in her inability to let go. She clings onto you with her thighs around your hips and her fingers on your skin, nearly addicted to the way your human warmth attempts to seep into her body. Cabernet doesn’t need you to want her. Her desires burn bright enough to fill in the gaps of what you can’t give her, and so she simply takes without a care. 

“Still,” her lips begin to bend in an entitled pout, and she uses two fingers to stretch the corners of your mouth in a butchered mockery of a smile. “I do miss your incessant little questions and that oh so charming youth you carried in your walk. Are you unhappy? What is it that you want?”

To leave, but she knows that. To go home and hug your siblings after what will be a year later this week, the longest she’s ever kept anyone if her lust-filled mumblings are to be believed. You have no reason to doubt that statement, you’ve seen how she treats her dinners, the apathy lurking beneath her gentle touch and the rapidity with which their lifeless bodies are dismissed afterwards. A wave of the hand, that is all they’re worth. Perhaps you should be thankful that she parades you around like an exclusive edition Barbie doll, but life is starting to feel like death and you find it is uneventful. 

“I don’t want anything,” you respond curtly instead. 

Cabernet ignores your tone, or your disinterest doesn’t register to her ears. 

“Of course you do.” Her gaze follows the sensual trek of her index fingers down your throat, its sharp edge now deceivingly light. You swallow reflexively, and she stops to feel the fleeting bulge beneath your skin. “Everyone wants something. Conflicting desires breed conflict, but it is the one thing that connects us all— monsters and humans, human monsters… and I desire something fresher… livelier.” 

Unease coils tight in your gut at her succeeding pause. Her words hang in the air with implications that weigh on your chest and chokes the next breath out your mouth. The open window brings no noise from the outside, secluded as you are in this grand prison north of Eastside, and leaves you trapped between Cabernet’s fancy claws. She stares at the pulse of your veins as if she could picture the blood rushing through your vessels and directly onto her tongue, pupils expanding into hollow obsidian marbles. Her next exhalation is closer to a sigh, followed closely by the quickening rise of her chest and the rosy blush on her cheeks. She seems to lose herself in a short-lived fantasy, her eyes seeing yet absent, and her hunger grows with it; her hand curls around your throat, finger pads pressing down where her fangs have been moments earlier, and the flaring pain makes you wince. Your hand swiftly wraps around her wrist in a futile request to be released. The contact only makes her happier, she purposely misinterprets it as an initiative to be closer and her eyes light up with pleasure as she brings your palm to her heated face, leaning into your coerced touch. 

Cabernet’s hold on you tightens fractionally Her droopy eyelids only emphasize the intensity of her rosy irises. Your features twist in discomfort, and she revels in the twist of your brows and the widening of your eyes— finally, a visceral reaction. Her upper body absentmindedly sways forward as if she means to kiss your lip, and you urgently tug at your hand to free yourself from her iron grip before her dreamy state results in her caging you in further. A light, endeared laugh escapes her at your attempt. She turns her head and meets the lines of your palm with a brush of her mouth, follows the short curve of your life line to the heel of your hand and presses a lingering kiss to the clammy skin. 

“I like you so much…” she sighs into your palm, two dark half-moons flickering towards your face. The tip of her fangs graze you through her slightly parted lips, moving with each dooming sentence she breathlessly utters. “A replacement would have to resemble the most decadent parts of you; the judgement in your eyes when I fired that incompetent girl for dropping my potted plants; your readiness to dirty those soft, warm hands to clean up filth that isn’t yours…”

Then her eyes burn brighter, and your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh, I know. That precious, energetic little Fleur... She’s not so little anymore, is she? With the money you send back home, she’s gotten into a reputable art school in Eastside for the fall semester— She’ll make a wonderful painter, I’m sure.”

The clench of your jaw goes unnoticed, as does the split of your bottom lip under your teeth. Unable to free yourself of her hold, you instead use your free hand to coil around hers at your neck, your trimmed nails sinking into her pale flesh with the bruising  force of an affront you can’t express otherwise. Red crescents make a pretty addition to the blue of her veins.

“You wouldn’t.” You’re surprised the sentence is audible at all, spat out with animosity you never would have thought yourself capable of. Even as it leaves you, you know that she would indeed be despicable enough to replace you with your youngest sister.

“She looks so much like you, with her long legs and unkept hair, so lively. Mmm, perhaps we should host an intimate dinner and have you two catch up, it’s been quite some time since you last saw her chubby little face. Would you like that?”

Cabernet feels the tightness of your throat beneath her finger pads, a pleased, mellow smile gracing her lips. She drinks in the silent contempt in your gaze, her own throat working from sudden thirst, and in one smooth movement, her fangs are digging into your forearm. She bites hard, uncaring for the strained sound trapped behind your pursed lips, and presses your arm closer to her mouth in a desperate need for more. Your hot, fragrant blood blissfully flows onto her tongue but she restrains from enjoying the taste with closed eyes and instead holds your furious stare as if the sight itself fueled the greed in the hollow depths of her belly. A moan escapes her freely. She’s harsh, apathetic, smearing your skin and her chin a deep crimson as she relentlessly feeds from your resentment, seemingly unable to halt herself. Your already compromised vision begins to blur at the edges and your mind slips in time with the ragged breaths that stumble from your lips, but the portrait of her bloodstained face and empty gaze framed by wild, fiery hair is carved on the back of your eyelids. Cabernet carelessly releases your arm and it flops to the mattress to stain its creamy sheets. Her breaths are heavy, ecstatic past her wet, open mouth, and she bends over your immobile form to bring it close to yours. The harsh grip of her fingers on your cheeks forcefully puckers your lips, and for a suspended second, you dread the thought of her bloody kiss. Your eyes sting, with revulsion or pain— you’re not sure of anything but the helplessness that freezes your limbs under her warmth. Instead, her thick hair caresses your face as she falls forward into you, nearly crushing you underneath her body. 

You feel her lethargic, content murmur waft over your earlobe in the form of a sated sigh. “Stay.”

You’re unable to fight the dizziness that overwhelms your mind or the weight of her above you. Her arms embrace your neck, a tired hug that feels more like being choked into submission, and hold you so close the scent of her signature fragrance overpowers that of the blood trickling down your wrist. Her warmth envelops you, unnatural yet genuine. It mocks you, pricks you everywhere it reaches and urges you to skin every inch she’s ever touched with one of her pristine dinner knives. 

Half an hour passes in the dark. Cabernet’s fallen asleep, still dirty and unmoving on top of you. You can’t think beyond her affectionate touch. Your head is empty, sucked dry of any previous anger or disgust, and eventually circles back into indifference. Your gaze shifts to the dull, lifeless sky beyond your bedroom window. You’ll have the Egyptian flowers delivered in the evening. Tomorrow, when hunger inevitably knocks at your door, you’ll at least have something pretty to look at.

[crguang]

i can’t believe how good madeleine looks and how good the recent ptn livestream was content wise; the main story/anni event looks so promising writing wise and im excited for sure. catherine is wearing pants thank you god, and she looks dashing in that uniform if i ignore her face but its fine because i can just treat her like chameleon’s sister + i enjoyed her voice the most in the recent chapters so its still a win 😋

im ngl i was starting to get annoyed with ptn because the latest designs have been underwhelming to say the least, and the stories have been boring at best too. since half anni/yingying’s event i havent been interested in anything until the main story update last week, and even then they fumbled parfait’s writing and jasmine’s design choices so badly i was ready to take a step back 😭 thankfully shin is next and she’s my kind of girl… then synex… then catherine like okay the drought just might be over WE’RE SO BACKKKKKK

but can we talk about her. her her her the and the and her and wow she makes me speechless im definitely buying that vinyl idc and i will be writing shotgun kisses with her and i will continue to giggle and kick my feet and i—

she would be so. so chill about it. so teasing and playful. if you’re not a smoker she’d chuckle at you trying not to cough out the smoke and if you are… she just might be the one asking for a kiss. im dizzy. where is she going. ough a soirée organized by some of the outlands’ wealthy families maybe….. can yall imagine opening the door and seeing her looking like that i think i’d faint and hit my head, her hair has always been gorgeous but it complements the fit so well here it’s a prop in itself. she looks so expensive. the huge choker… they had to make her wear one after how much her neck was emphasized in her attire and i started acting a little too crazy. but it’s ok but i know yall see those shoulders and collarbones mnghhh im so weak rn i can barely think but I WON

[crguang]

Hello Sat, well, let's say the mood is for cheesy things right now, soooo... what do you think R x Kafka's wedding would be like?

hii, the question felt so familiar i had to see if i’d answered a similar one before and i did, here !! i reread what i said and i still stand by everything woah… a wedding with kaf would be an unforgettable experience mainly because, i think, she doesn’t feel like the type to settle down and commit to another person in this way? and when she sets her mind to something, well, we all play this game we know how far she can go to get it. her tastes are lavish but she also lives in the moment so either way, that wedding would be a treasured memory no matter where it takes place.

my dream wedding with her would probably be a spontaneous one because i feel like every day with her is an adventure and i would want that feeling to perdure for such an occasion as well. like, idk she makes me feel… breathless? i’m not someone who does stuff out of their comfort zone very often and she’d force me to do that every single day and in my head i could actually feel alive because of it, so its a sort of feeling where your heart is racing and your fingers are shaking, not out of anxiety for once but of excitement so visceral your body can’t contain itself. you didnt ask but i’d want my wedding with her to give me that feeling hdjfkgkg

[crguang]

hi!! can i request a writing with kafka and reader or trailblazer, up to you really, where reader/mc gets hurt during combat (picturing stellaron hunters era trailblazer here, but obvi you have creative control) and kafka bandages them up and deals with the aftermath of that (i imagine her recklessness is what got them hurt, because lack of fear = less time spent thinking about consequences)

Fate is a Wound That Never Closes

Summary: In the aftermath of a high-stakes mission gone wrong, you’re left critically injured—wounded while protecting Kafka from a surprise attack. As she tends to your injuries, Kafka is forced to confront the consequences of her recklessness and what your pain truly means to her. Beneath her composed facade, guilt and care war for dominance. In this quiet moment between chaos, truths are revealed—not just in words, but in the way she holds you, the way she doesn’t walk away.

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Care, Guilt and Angst, Emotional Intimacy, Post-Battle Scene, Slow Burn Elements, Subtle Confessions, Found Family Undertones, Slightly Flirty Kafka, Vulnerable Kafka.

Warnings: Descriptions of combat injuries (blood, pain), Mentions of near-death experience, Mild medical care (bandaging, field dressing), Emotional distress (guilt, blame), Brief use of strong emotion/language related to trauma, Power dynamics implied (command/subordinate dynamic with consent & trust).

The hum of decaying metal still clung to the air like static, a grim lullaby over the battlefield. Smoke spiraled from ruptured walls, and scorched fragments of IPC drones littered the ground like broken toys. Somewhere in the distance, Silver Wolf’s echoing footsteps faded, off to track another lead.

But Kafka remained. With you.

You were slumped against a cracked support beam, breath shallow and erratic. Blood pooled at your side, too dark to be anything but serious. And yet, all you could focus on was the look on her face.

Not fear. Never that.

But... something close.

“Kaf…” You exhaled her name more than you said it. It hurt to speak.

“Shh.” Kafka crouched beside you, her coat fluttering around her like wings of night silk. She shed it in a graceful motion and pressed the soft lining to your wound. “Don’t waste your breath.”

You winced.

“It’s not deep,” she lied.

You raised a brow, bloodied lips quirking. “You’re a terrible liar.”

She offered a small smile in return, but it didn’t reach her eyes. They stayed locked on the injury, pupils slightly blown. Her gloved hands moved swiftly now, retrieving a medpack from her belt. She tore open a field wrap with her teeth—elegance forgotten.

“You didn’t see it coming,” you muttered.

“No.” Her voice was low. Controlled. But you knew her better than most.

You’d seen the way she danced through danger like it was music. You’d followed her into fire and chaos without hesitation, not because you were reckless—but because she made recklessness seem like destiny. Like there was no need to fear when Kafka was smiling.

Except this time, the trap hadn’t been meant for her.

You had taken the hit meant for her.

Kafka’s fingers hovered before they resumed—slipping the jacket off your torso with utmost care, undoing your gear strap by strap. For once, her hands trembled slightly.

“I should have anticipated the drone cluster. I had all the data—”

“And none of the caution,” you cut in.

She paused, visibly stung.

You softened your tone. “I’m not blaming you.”

“You should.” She peeled back your ruined shirt. The sight beneath made her flinch, and that scared you more than the pain. Kafka never flinched. “If I had waited—if I hadn’t been so damn sure—”

“Hey.” You touched her wrist. Blood smeared against her glove, and she stared at it like it was a sin she hadn’t expected to be caught committing.

“I chose to follow you in. Always do,” you whispered.

“But I’m the one who gave the order.”

Silence hovered between you for a beat. A drone flickered nearby, its dying optics fading out with a whine. You hissed as she tightened the gauze, her lips tightening with it.

She finally spoke, quieter now. “You were bleeding before I even turned around. I thought—I didn’t think.”

You reached up—hand trembling—and pushed her sunglasses back into her hair to meet her eyes fully.

“But you came back for me,” you said. “That’s what matters.”

Kafka blinked. Her eyes, always sharp, always calculating, softened around the edges like storm clouds that couldn’t decide whether to break.

“You shouldn’t trust me that much,” she murmured.

“But I do.”

Kafka exhaled, leaned in, and rested her forehead against yours for the briefest moment. You felt her breath—steady, scented faintly of wine and smoke—and the world narrowed to just her.

“I’m not going to lose you over a miscalculation,” she said, almost like a promise, almost like a prayer. “Not you.”

When she pulled back, she finished tying the bandage with precision, each knot cleaner than the last. Her hands no longer trembled.

“You’ll scar,” she said at last.

You smirked. “A memento. From my favorite Stellaron Hunter.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine this time.

“…Elio won’t like the detour,” you muttered, trying to sit up.

Kafka pressed you back gently. “Elio can wait.”

She slid her coat around your shoulders and scooped you up with the kind of ease that belied how long you’d known her. You expected her usual playful remark, a joke at your expense. But all she said was:

“You’re not allowed to die. Not when I still owe you a coat.”

[crguang]

Hello Sat!! I don’t know if you still play ptn but I just had to ask if you’ve seen the new Vautour Bleu skin?! It’s so pretty 😫😫😫 she looks so good in the art….

Anyway, how have you been? I sometimes reread your writing because it’s beautiful and I hope we can see more of it soon! Please rest and take care of yourself!

i mainly play ptn!!! my interest in that game isnt dwindling so far, so im still very much having fun with it and yes i got bleu’s skin so ive seen it hehehe. shes so gorgeous and playful aaaa, she’s rerunning today and guess who just got s5…? YEAHHHHH she’s completely maxed out now including her ecb 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾 anything for my baby. my first s5 s rank too she deserves it so bad, i love whem my favs are also at the top of the meta <3

i’m doing okay!! you rereading my works makes me really happy, thank u for the support even though i havent posted in ages hdhdhf i’ve written quite a few things for ptn (2 for bleu, 1 for chameleon, 1 for garo/reader/jelena, 3 for oak casket, 1 for cabernet….) but they’re all unfinished so far that’s why i haven’t posted any. i think my personal challenge is to finish my wips bc i also have a kafka one that’s been there for a while and it’s unfinished as well 😭😭 i hope i can post something soon!

i do have this bleu x garofano oneshot that i wrote for a friend but they’re lowkey a random rarepair so i didn’t think to post it lol. i hope youre doing good too and that you’re taking care of yourself!!

[crguang]

BLEU ATTIRE 😭 SHE ASKED TO US TO SERVE AS A TROPHY DSKHFEOWRJF 😭 THE LINE ABOTU EASTIAN SILK OR WHAT ITS COVERING HRE CALLING US GREEDY😭 ANOTHER LOVEPOST 😭

god i saw……. i was losing my mind when she finally released i think i spent hours just listening to her voice lines and kicking my feet😭 her calling chief greedy…. making this face…. crossing her legs…. jfjfjdmfmfjwhwggausj i got so hot i almost passed out she is soooo pretty and soft in this attire. shes also noticeably happier even if shes still showing signs of wistfulness with her voice line about eastian poetry, her special attention one is so light i got dizzy. my heart was so full i love her so bad like

i saw her second love post i wish they’d used a flirtier line or had made one up but its funny that she has two😭😭 they need to hire me for these… maybe they were trying to get on my good side after the quote from her first lovepost killed me and my whole family