yuriosakawa

[yuriosakawa]

Here’s my take on the avengers from EMH, I did some changes on them ok that’s all 🛌

[yuriosakawa]

He’s a little too perceptive.

He’s paying attention to make sure Bruce doesn’t Hulk out, that’s all.

[yuriosakawa]

why is this def something he would say?! 😂😂😂

[yuriosakawa]

Mad World 🏜️😡 - Profiles

⚙️⛓️‍💥 MAD REX (Ricardo “Rex” Alejandro Salazar) ⛓️‍💥⚙️

☀️ A slightly older version of Rex. Didn’t lost his memory after the Nanite Event.

☀️ Has the Alpha Nanite instead of the Omega Nanite.

☀️ He can speak English perfectly, he just chooses to add Spanish words to it because it makes him feel more exotic *cough* hotter *cough*.

☀️ His accent is noticeably thicker than Rex Prime’s, like César’s. This is because he actually got to grow up alongside his birth family for years so he was exposed to the language more.

☀️ Although he doesn’t always display it, Mad Rex is actually quite brilliant, or at least cunning; inheriting all of his family’s genius and devious minds.

(Check here for Overview)

[yuriosakawa]

Since we’re getting a Batman and Deadpool crossover soon, alongside a few more tie-in crossovers, one crossover I think is interesting to consider is the Flash and the Hulk. Because both are scientists who got their powers after a lab accident, but while Flash’s brought out the best version of himself, Banner’s just brought out the worst. 

Accident as Catalyst

Barry’s lightning + chemicals transforms him into the fastest man alive, and he takes it as a call to heroism.

Bruce’s gamma blast turns him into the Hulk, a manifestation of rage, trauma, and instability.

The Self vs. The Other

Flash’s powers amplify Barry’s best qualities: his optimism, compassion, and sense of duty. He becomes more himself with them.

Hulk is almost a punishment for Bruce—his bottled anger and self-loathing given monstrous form. He becomes less himself with them.

Symbolism

Flash = speed, light, connection (he’s literally a conduit of the Speed Force, which ties him to others).

Hulk = strength, destruction, isolation (he pushes people away even when he doesn’t want to).

It’s almost a story about how trauma shapes power: Barry lost his mom but channeled that grief into justice; Bruce suffered abuse and trauma, and his powers became the embodiment of his repression.

Imagine Barry trying to show Bruce that accidents don’t have to define you—that you can be more than what your trauma turned you into. Meanwhile, Hulk might envy how Barry got a “gift” while he got a “curse.”

[yuriosakawa]

Negative World 💀🖤 - Profiles

⚙️ NEGA REX (Rexford “Rex” Salazar) ⚙️

💀 Lost his memory after the Nanite Event.

💀 Was found by Providence as a boy, but refused to work with them. Without the support system his Prime counterpart had through Providence, his depression surrounding his amnesia worsened, leading him to embrace a more emo persona.

💀 Is penpals with his fellow goth Circe, whom he met in Cabo Luna (as in canon).

💀 Identifies as nonbinary but prefers to use he/him pronouns.

💀 Like his Prime counterpart, he’s a sucker for romance novels.

(Check here for Overview)

[yuriosakawa]

Gen 10 - Profiles ⚙️🔁⌚️

⚙️ REX DIONISIO SALAZAR / REX 10 ⌚️

⌚️Didn’t lost his memory after the Nanite Event. 

⌚️Ben helped him name some of his aliens. The others are named after traditional Hispanic folklore figures. 

⌚️Introduced Ben to soccer. 

⌚️Usually tutors Ben with his homework. 

⌚️His Omnitrix has way more glitches than the ones other Ben’s possess. 

⌚️ BENJAMIN TAYLOR TENNYSON / GENERATOR BEN ⚙️

⚙️ Six gave both him and Rex goggles in this AU. 

⚙️ Rex helped him name some of his Builds, which is why they share the same name as in canon. 

⚙️ Considering how he’s been living in Providence since he was ten, Ben never changed his initial negative opinion of Mr. Smoothy which is why he isn’t a smoothie fan in this AU. 

⚙️ Is much more responsible and disciplined than Prime Ben due to the pressure of being the only known cure for the EVO infection, but still likes to joke around. 

⚙️ Secretly hates himself because he believes he’s the cause of Grandpa Max’s death. 

(Check here for Overview)

[yuriosakawa]

“Alright. Your funeral.”

In the vast Omniverse, there exist thousands of versions of Ben Tennyson and Rex Salazar. Some good, some evil. Some destined for greatness, others for ruin. Yet no matter the world, their paths are always fated to cross.

This is one such world—though a little different.

Rex Salazar was born into a family of globe-trotting geniuses, scientists chasing mysteries across every corner of the Earth. When he was only ten years old, he witnessed what he thought was a falling star streak across the sky. But it wasn’t a meteor—it was an alien pod. Inside was the Omnitrix, the most powerful device in the universe, which latched itself onto his wrist and gave him the power to transform into countless alien forms.

Ben Tennyson’s childhood was far less fortunate. At the same age, he was attacked by the unstable Galvanic Mechamorph known as Malware. The assault should have killed him, but instead, fragments of Malware’s nanites fused into his body. They granted him the ability to reshape his form into living machinery—but also cursed him with a burden far heavier than any child should bear.

As Ben lay recovering in a hospital bed, his grandfather Max, consumed by grief and rage, hunted down Malware. He succeeded, but at the cost of his own life. Worse still, Malware’s destruction triggered a catastrophic explosion, scattering corrupted nanites across the globe. This tragedy became known as the Nanite Event—an outbreak that transformed ordinary people into unstable EVOs.

To combat this new threat, Providence was formed as the Earth-focused branch of the Plumbers, dedicated to capturing and studying EVOs. Rex was recruited for both his family’s scientific expertise and the unique power of the Omnitrix. Ben was brought in as well, for he was the only known cure to the EVO plague.

Together they grew up within Providence, each seen not as children, but as weapons, experiments, assets to be exploited. And in that lonely existence, they found each other—partners, friends, the only real family they had left.

But lately, both have begun to wonder: is it truly just friendship they feel for each other… or something deeper?

Check here for Profiles 

Check here for Ao3 chapter

[yuriosakawa]

What do you think of the premise for my DC/Marvel crossover? 

The One Above All and the Presence reunite some of the best champions from their respective worlds, telling them that they’re making an “exchange program” (to put it simply), where the Marvel heroes will travel to the DC world and the DC heroes to the Marvel universe and stay there for a indefinite amount of time; protecting the other’s world. This is to gain further experience, broader horizons, and strengthen bond between both universes. 

I think this reasoning is refreshingly personal and character-driven; as most Marvel/DC crossovers lean on clashes, misunderstandings, or joint battles against cosmic threats. But mine flips it by making it about exchange, growth, and cultural immersion.

But of course, the villains and evil organizations from each universe will exploit the absence of their usual champions— creating for some more juicy drama. 

[yuriosakawa]

The lawn is quiet except for the chatter of birds and the faint shimmer of green light that trails behind Scott Summers as he hovers lazily above the grass. For once, his posture isn’t stiff, his tone isn’t clipped. There’s an unmistakable smirk tugging at his lips.

Logan trudges across the lawn, a cigar tucked in his mouth, grumbling about the latest Danger Room session. He notices Scott circling overhead and squints up at him.

“What’re you lookin’ at, Slim?”

Scott tilts his head, mischievous glow in his visor, and with the faintest flicker of his ring, a pair of glowing emerald devil horns pop up above his own head.

“Logan… you up for a Fastball Special?” Scott asked lightly, almost sing-song. 

Logan stops mid-step, blinking. The words don’t compute. It takes his brain a beat longer than usual.

“…What?”

Before he can react, a massive green construct hand materializes, scooping him up like a ragdoll.

“SUMMERS, DON’T YOU—”

Scott barely waits. With a flick of his wrist, the glowing hand hurls Wolverine skyward. Logan rockets through the air with a guttural AAAAARGH— not one of fear, but pure feral rage. 

Scott hovers in place, head tilted back, watching his trajectory with all the casual calm of someone tossing a baseball. Then—

SPLAAAAASH!

The mansion’s lake erupts into a spray of water and startled ducks. Ripples roll outward as Logan surfaces, soaked fur bristling, coughing up half the lake.

“YOU’RE— cough —DEAD, SUMMERS! YOU HEAR ME?! DEAD!” Logan gargled the water out, furious. 

Scott doesn’t even try to hold it in. He doubles over mid-air, laughing harder than he has in years. His whole body shakes, arms wrapped around his stomach as the green glow of his ring flickers from lack of focus.

“Oh my god—your face! The scream—Logan, I—I can’t—!” Scott said between gasps. 

Bobby Drake peeks out the mansion window, nearly choking on his soda when he sees Logan dragging himself out of the lake.

“Ha! Finally! Someone other than me pulling a prank on Wolverine! Mark the date, people—Cyclops has a sense of humor!”

Logan, dripping wet, glares murderously up at the hovering Summers.

“Enjoy your laugh, Slim. ‘Cause next time you sleep? I’m puttin’ that ring where the sun don’t shine.”

Scott, still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, shakes his head, still grinning ear to ear.

“Worth it.” Scott said softly, almost to himself. 

He lets out another chuckle, floating just out of claw range.

[yuriosakawa]

The Mystery of Lin Lié 

~~~

Part 5

~~~

When the car finally slows to a stop, your mouth falls open.

This isn't just a restaurant. It’s a cathedral of luxury.

The building rises like a work of modern art—glass and stone, softly lit from within, framed by manicured hedges and sculptures that probably cost more than your entire apartment complex. You don’t even know the name of the place. You’re not sure anyone does. It’s the kind of restaurant that celebrities whisper about. The kind you only see in background shots on reality TV and assume is just a set.

The car door swings open. Lié is already standing there, hand extended.

You blink up at him, dazed.

He smiles gently. “May I?”

You take his hand because of course you do.

Your heels click onto polished stone as he helps you out, then smoothly offers his arm. You loop yours through without a second thought. You’re not entirely sure your legs are still functional anyway.

As the two of you approach the entrance, you half-expect someone to stop you. Card you. Ask for proof of wealth. Call security.

But the host just gives a small, deferential nod.

“Mr. Lié,” he says warmly. “Right this way.”

Not a name. Not a reservation number. Just Mr. Lié.

You glance sideways at him. He’s completely at ease.

Of course he is.

As you're escorted through the restaurant, you catch glimpses of the interior—soft piano music drifting through the air, chandeliers that glitter like constellations, a koi pond with floating orchids inside the dining room. The tables are spaced like private islands. The chairs are all velvet. The water is served with lemon mist and a sprig of hand-picked mint, like it’s been blessed.

You’ve never seen anything like it.

Lié holds your seat out for you. Smooth, effortless. Once you're both seated, he leans back in his chair and smiles that casual, devastating smile again.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight,” he says. “They serve glitter ice cream here. With actual gold sprinkles.”

You laugh. Loud. Awkward. A little too hard.

“Oh my God—what? You’re joking, right?”

He doesn’t blink.

You stop laughing.

“…You’re not joking.”

“Nope,” he says, already glancing at the menu. “It’s actually really good. Surprisingly light.”

You stare at him. Then at your glass of artisanal rosewater. Then back at him.

“What… is your life?”

He looks up at you again, eyes soft and amused.

“I was hoping you’d help me figure that out.”

•••

You’ve lost count of the number of times you've laughed.

Or blushed.

Or had to hide your face behind your napkin because Liè keeps saying things that make your brain short-circuit.

The food? Absolutely divine. Half of it you can’t even pronounce, but he helped you through the menu with a charming grin and a casual, “Trust me.”

You did. And you don’t regret it. Not once.

But it’s not just the food, or the ambiance, or the surreal, quiet service like you're both royalty. It’s him.

Liè—leaning back in his chair now, shirt collar open just slightly, one arm propped lazily on the table. He looks like a page out of a glossy magazine. But somehow, he's not intimidating. He’s disarming. Charming. Warm.

“So,” you ask, resting your chin on your hand, “do you do this a lot?”

His eyebrow arches. “What? Take dazzling strangers out to dinner and melt their brains with gold-topped desserts?”

You blink. “Yes, actually. That’s exactly what I meant.”

He laughs—soft and real. “No. Believe it or not, I don’t really date.”

You tilt your head. “Because you’re too busy running corporations and looking devastating in sunglasses?”

He shrugs like what can you do? and lifts his wine glass. “Something like that.”

After a moment, you ask, “What made you want to ask me out?”

He pauses. Then, he looks you right in the eyes.

“I liked how you looked at me.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Oh?”

“Like I wasn’t untouchable.” He says it so simply, like it’s not something that could make you melt. “Like I was just a guy… not a fortune.”

You laugh nervously. “That’s because I didn’t know who you were.”

“Exactly,” he says. “That’s rare.”

A soft beat of silence passes between you.

Then he adds, quieter now, “I might be where I am now, but I still remember being a broke teenager in Shanghai. Sharing meals with friends, skipping school to nap on rooftops, praying the bus wouldn’t break down on the way to night class.”

You smile at that image. “Humble beginnings?”

He shrugs again. “Humble chaos.”

“And your mentor?” you ask gently, tracing the rim of your water glass. “Sounds like you care about him.”

Liè hums thoughtfully. “Care is… complicated.”

He’s quiet for a second.

“I don’t idolize him. Not really. But I owe him more than I can explain. He didn’t save me or anything dramatic like that, but he saw me. He handed me the tools. Now I’m just trying to build something he’d be proud of. Even if he’d never say it out loud.”

You nod slowly. “That’s… kind of beautiful.”

He gives you a sideways smile. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not usually this sentimental.”

“Don’t worry,” you tease. “I’ll blackmail you with it later.”

Liè grins. “I knew you were dangerous.”

And just like that, the moment softens again. Warm and close and real.

~~~

End of Arc 1

[yuriosakawa]

The Mystery of Lin Lié 

~~~

Part 4

Part 6

~~~

The night air is soft and warm. A gentle breeze lifts the hem of your dress as you step out of your building—heels clicking against the pavement, heart thudding in your chest like a drumline.

You look stunning. Your dress glimmers under the golden hue of the streetlights. Your makeup is flawless. Your hair—immaculate. You feel like you just walked out of a Vogue dreamscape, like one wrong blink will wake you up.

It would be the perfect moment— would have been. If not for them.

Your friends—bless them—are huddled behind a nearby bush, squealing and recording on three separate phones like proud, overenthusiastic stage moms.

“OH MY GODDDD!”

“She’s leaving the nest!!”

“Look at our beautiful baby bird all grown up!”

“You BETTER smooch him before dessert!”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “You guys are literally the worst.”

“No,” one of them corrects, zooming in dramatically. “We are witnesses to history.”

Then— A sound.

Deep. Low. Powerful.

At first, you think it’s thunder. Or even a dragon’s growl.

But no. It’s an engine. And not just any engine.

A sleek, gorgeous jade emerald sports car glides into view like it owns the street. It’s accented with gleaming gold details that catch every sliver of light. The headlights flicker like a creature exhaling smoke. It doesn’t just purr— it commands.

Even your friends go dead quiet.

“…that’s not a car,” one of them breathes. “That’s a literal beast.”

The vehicle rolls to a smooth stop in front of you. The driver’s side opens, abs out steps Lin Lié.

Dressed in that perfectly tailored black suit, every movement effortless. He looks like he was sculpted by desire itself. The same soft smirk from the club curls at his lips as he walks around the car, his eyes already locked on you.

You barely breathe. 

He stops in front of you, gaze flicking from your shoes to your curls, taking in every inch of you like a painting in a private gallery.

“You,” he says, voice warm and velvety, “look absolutely gorgeous.”

You can’t help the girlish giggle that escapes you. It bubbles up uninvited, flustered and electric. He gently takes your hand in his—calloused and confident—and brings it to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles like you’re royalty.

Your friends practically explode in the background, but you’ve tuned them out completely now. It’s just the two of you.

Lié’s eyes twinkle, amused by your stunned expression. Then he tilts his head, smiling.

“Shall we?”

•••

If heaven was upholstered, it would feel like this.

The leather seats are smoother than velvet and softer than clouds, molding perfectly to your body.

The dashboard glows in a soft, futuristic neon-green— emerald green, like the car itself. The lights pulse gently, casting the cabin in a luxurious, almost hypnotic light,  like the heartbeat of a living machine. Every button is sleek. Every curve of the interior is a masterclass in luxury engineering.

The car glides down the road with impossible grace. Not a single bump. Not a whisper of strain. Just pure, purring power.

The engine hums beneath you, a deep, velvety growl—not a roar of hunger, no. It’s something cooler. Cockier. Like a smug dragon that knows it’s the fastest creature alive and enjoys showing off.

You're breathless. 

Forget dinner. Forget candlelight and rooftop views. You might faint from this car ride alone.

The only thing more dangerously intoxicating than the car was the driver.

Lin Lié. One hand relaxed on the wheel, the other draped casually over the gearshift, he looks as if he was born in this seat. Streetlights skim across the planes of his face, each flash of gold and shadow making him look sharper, richer, untouchable.

He’s not saying much. He doesn’t have to. 

His presence is louder than the engine.

Every so often, he glances your way—and when he does, it’s like the road itself holds its breath.

“Comfortable?” he finally asks, his voice laced with amusement, already knowing the answer.

You try to play it cool. You really do.

But your voice still comes out a little breathy. “This might be the most comfortable I’ve ever been in my life.”

He chuckles softly. “Good.”

You turn to the window, trying to stop your heart from slamming out of your chest.

You’re in a jade-and-gold dragon of a car. Beside a man who looks like sin in silk. And you’re heading off to dinner like it’s just casual.

This is either the best dream you've ever had...

Or the beginning of something way more dangerous than you thought.

[yuriosakawa]

After the climatic fight with Gwi-Ma, the Huntrix girls notice that the Saja Boys’ patterns have changed from purple to white, much like Rumi’s, something that Zoey cheers about. 

As everyone is admiring their new patterns in the background, the camera shows a First Person POV shot of Jinu staring at his new white-patterned hands — Much like we were shown POV shots of him staring at his dirty impoverished hands and his clawed demon hands — and then he smiles softly, a little unsure, but happy. 

It symbolizes that Jinu had finally found a version of himself that he feels comfortable in. His “true self”, if you will. 

[yuriosakawa]

The Mystery of Lin Lié 

~~~

Part 3

Part 5

~~~

It took you three days, two pep talks, and one full outfit change—just to make the phone call.

Your thumb hovered over the contact for far too long. Your heart wouldn’t stop pounding. What if he didn’t answer? What if he forgot you? What if this was all some rich-boy fever dream and you hallucinated the whole thing?

Still, you tapped “call.”

The line rang once. Then twice. And then—

“Hello?”

His voice.

Smooth, deep, warm. Like velvet over espresso. Even through the speaker, it left you breathless.

“H-Hi,” you said, your voice way too high. You cleared your throat quickly. “Hi, uh, it’s me. From the club. I mean—you gave me your card. I hope it’s okay I called. I just—uh, how have you been?”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I remember you,” he said, and somehow just those three words made your entire skeleton collapse inward. “Things have been good. College has been hectic, though. My thesis is eating me alive.”

You blinked. “Wait—you have a thesis?”

“Unfortunately.”

You laughed, surprised. “Wow. So even billionaires suffer under deadlines. Guess money or not… college is still college.”

“Pretty much,” he said. “Although I don’t imagine your school has an AI professor that insists on giving pop quizzes at midnight.”

“God, no. We just have raccoons in the ceiling and vending machines that eat your money.”

“I’m jealous,” he said, with an audible grin. You were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

Then, casually, Lié asked, “Are you free later this week?”

“Uh—yeah,” you said, trying to sound normal. “Why?”

“I was hoping to take you out to dinner.”

For a second, you forgot how to breathe.

“Oh. Sure,” you replied, somehow keeping your voice level. “That sounds… great.”

“I’ll text you the details,” he said. “I’ll see you soon, pretty.”

And just like that, he hung up.

You stared at your phone for one whole second. Then—

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

The most ungodly scream known to man tore from your lungs as you flung yourself backward onto the couch, kicking the air and clutching a throw pillow to your face.

You rolled onto your back, then sat up, then stood, then jumped in place, practically vibrating with excitement.

“I have a date.” You gasped. “WITH LIN LIÉ.”

You screamed again. Your neighbors probably thought you were being murdered. And honestly? You were. By happiness.

You barely had time to breathe before you hit the group chat with an emergency voice message.

YOU GUYS. I JUST CALLED HIM. AND HE ASKED ME OUT. TO DINNER. AN ACTUAL DATE. WITH LIN LIÈ.

The response was instant.

Your phone exploded with notifications. Screaming. Literal screaming. Some in all caps, some voice notes that were nothing but squeals. One friend just sent fifty fire emojis. Another threatened to pass out from joy. The birthday girl left a message that said, “I knew it! I KNEW IT!”

You should’ve been over the moon. You were. But then reality struck. Hard.

“Guys,” you typed into the chat, “What the HELL do I wear??”

Your phone rang immediately—FaceTime call from all four of them at once. You accepted.

Their faces popped up, flushed and excited. One was already mid-laugh. Another was clutching a bag of chips like it was her emotional support animal.

“I have nothing fancy enough,” you blurted, wide-eyed. “What if it’s, like, a Michelin-star rooftop place that only serves golden truffle foam? My nicest outfit is a dress I wore to my cousin’s wedding, and it still smells like barbecue smoke. I can’t—”

“Nope. Shut up. Stop right there.”

“Say less.”

“We got you.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“New mission,” said your best friend, eyes gleaming. “Operation: Slay the Billionaire.”

“Oh my God,” said another. “We’re going shopping.”

“Correction,” said the birthday girl. “We’re going on a quest. To find the most drop-dead-gorgeous outfit that will make Lin Lié fall to his designer-clad knees.”

“But I don’t have the budget—”

“We didn’t ask if your wallet was ready,” one of them said. “We are ready.”

“Girl, we will coupon, we will thrift flip—.”

“We’re turning you into a walking gasp.”

You stared at the screen, overwhelmed—but glowing.

“…You guys are the best.”

They all grinned back.

“We know.”

[yuriosakawa]

Okay okay, I have an idea for the sequel. Bear with me now…

The Saja Boys came back to life, and without Jinu, Gwi-Ma directs his anger towards them and banishes them from the Demon World.

Without any options, they ask Huntrix to harbor them. Since they really can’t do much without Gwi-Ma’s influence they agree, but in truth, the Saja Boys seek to defeat the Huntrix and gain back Gwi-Ma’s favor.

But over the course of the sequel, they start spending more time with Huntrix and start falling in love not only with them but also the human world. We can also learn more about their origins, and Jinu can also come back to life.

It all culminates in Gwi-Ma going after the Hunters himself with him being too powerful for them to handle. The Saja Boys watch helplessly from the sidelines as Gwi-Ma is about to finish them until Jinu finally steps up and runs towards them with the rest of his friends following him.

And this is when things turn good because demon hunting weapons suddenly appear in their hands, meaning that the Honmoon had chosen them, DEMONS, to be hunters. Something that should’ve been impossible. The Saja Boys would also have their demon patterns all over their bodies, further accentuating their demon status and how being hunters shouldn’t have happened.

It all ends in a big climatic battle where the Huntrix and the Saja Boys work together to defeat Gwi-Ma once and for all.

And then, the movie’s post-credits scene would be of the Huntrix and the Saja Boys now becoming one big Kpop group and Hunter squad, singing a song together on stage— finally allowed to be together.

[yuriosakawa]

The Mystery of Lin Lié 

~~~

Part 2

Part 4

~~~

Brunch was supposed to be casual.

But the moment you sat down, coffee barely even ordered, your friends pounced like wolves with mimosas.

“Okay, SPILL,” said the birthday girl, slamming her elbows onto the table. “Who is he?! What’s he like? Have you texted him? Have you licked the business card yet?!”

You blinked, deadpan. “I did some digging. And I’ve come to a conclusion.”

Everyone leaned in.

“It would take me approximately seven thousand generations to afford the toothbrush this man probably uses.”

There was a beat of silence before your friends erupted into cackles.

You sipped your iced latte like a martyr. “No, really. He drives a Ferrari. He owns a Ferrari. He’s studying at a secret fancy rich-person college that probably requires a blood ritual to apply. He’s on magazine covers. He’s been photographed with royalty. I’m pretty sure one of those photos was at the MET Gala. I think I saw Tony Stark behind him.”

Your best friend choked on her avocado toast.

“And get this,” you continued, pulling up your phone. “He was adopted as a teenager by Danny Rand.”

A round of gasps.

“Ohhh, that makes so much sense!” one of your friends said. “Rand was such a teen heartthrob back in the day! My mom had a poster of him in her closet.”

Another chimed in, “Right? He just vanished after taking over the company. And now he’s mentoring mysterious hot successors in secret rich-boy universities? This is, like, Dynasty-level drama.”

You rolled your eyes as everyone gushed, voices rising like a squealing choir. "I'm serious! The more I looked, the more unreal it felt. Like… why would he look at me like that?”

They quieted slightly, noticing the shift in your tone.

“I mean, let’s be honest,” you said with a sheepish laugh. “I’m just a broke college student with a cracked phone screen and emotional baggage. The closest I’ve come to wealth is when I accidentally walked into a Louis Vuitton store and immediately walked back out. I’m a nobody. A peasant. A dust bunny in the palace of his existence.”

“That dust bunny had a body in that dress, though,” one friend said, pointing her fork at you.

“I’m just saying,” another added, grinning, “sometimes Cinderella gets her brunch and her billionaire.”

“I’m not even Cinderella,” you groaned, pressing your face into your hands. “I’m one of the mice. One of the sad ones.”

“Shut up,” the birthday girl said with a grin, reaching out to gently flick your forehead. “You’re gorgeous, smart, and way too humble. That man saw you walk into that club and decided instantly he wanted you. Period.”

You peeked out from behind your hands. “You really think so?”

“Oh, honey.” She smirked. “He didn’t just want you. He claimed you like you were already on the deed to his yacht.”

The whole table howled with laughter again.

But even through the giggles and teasing, your heart ached with disbelief. It felt like some kind of dream. Like you'd been chosen by someone from a world you’d never belong in.

Still…

That night. That smirk.

The way he said your name.

It didn’t feel like make-believe. It felt real.

[yuriosakawa]

The Mystery of Lin Lié 

~~~

Part 1

Part 3

~~~

You told yourself it was just curiosity.

But “just curiosity” somehow turned into three straight days of deep-diving into the enigma that was Lin Lié.

And what you found only made the mystery worse.

He was originally born in Shanghai, that much was certain. But at some point during his early teens, he was taken in—officially adopted, in fact—by Danny Rand, the brilliant young CEO of Rand Corporation. Why? That part was unclear.

The records were vague. Some articles hinted that Rand had “seen something in him.” Others implied there had been some kind of private ordeal or family tragedy. But none of the official bios explained what made a reclusive billionaire take in a stranger’s child like a personal heir.

Now, Lié was pursuing a master’s degree in business, tucked away at one of the most exclusive universities in the world—a place so selective it didn't even appear on public college listings. Photos were rare. Leaks even rarer.

Still, he wasn’t exactly invisible. Far from it.

Lin Lié had been voted one of the world’s top 10 most eligible bachelors in a Forbes-style magazine spread. There he was—your mysterious, dark-eyed savior—staring back at you from glossy covers with a look that made your knees weak all over again.

You didn’t mean to spend your entire monthly allowance on fashion and business magazines, but you did. And you definitely didn’t mean to organize them on your desk in order of how much chest he was showing in each one.

Your favorite? The Ferrari shoot.

He was leaning against a scarlet red sports car, sunglasses hanging from one finger, the wind catching the edges of his blazer just enough to show a peek of his toned abs underneath a designer dress shirt.

You thought it was just a prop. Until an article mentioned that the car wasn’t rented. It was his, because of course it was.

You stared at the photo for longer than you cared to admit, heart fluttering stupidly every time you remembered the way he had looked at you in the club—like you were the only person in the room.

This man had everything. Money. Power. Looks. Mystery.

And for one strange night…

He had picked you.

But something about him stayed with you beyond the surface. Beneath all the wealth and the beauty, there was something else. Something haunted. The way his eyes darkened when he saw that creep touch you. The way he smiled like he knew things you didn’t. Like he had secrets folded between every breath.

And worst of all?

Even after all your research, you still felt like you were missing the most important part.