Some Doodles I Did For Tkatb And 14dwy

In honor of 14 days with you, 5th day... Here's a drawing of Ren/(REDACTED). Honestly I love him so much and I'm definitely gonna do more fanart of him soon <333

Oh well they coexist now lmao

everytime I see a shirtless Ren pic with those HUGE TITS, I remember this meme

been a while since i posted ren content

Dad!Ren and his daughter Shayla (My OC fankid!!!)

FINALLY, after some hard work i represent to you.. My OC Shayla! Shayla is based on the official cutiesigh artwork with AU Dad!Ren. This post will have all the basic info about her so far + some headcanons about Ren's family life and his relationship with Shayla. So it's going to be a kinda? long post! I've put a lot of work and love into these arts. Enjoy :3

Redacted holding Shayla!! and their very different reactions

They're just having a bit of a nap on the sofa after Shayla painted Ren's face... and Shayla is drooling on dad's soft chest😭 (kind of inspired?? by this post!)

Her reference:

BASIC INFO

Clarification: in my AU, where there is Shayla, Redacted doesn't pretend to be Ren, but acts naturally! But I use both names in the text

Shayla is a kind, naive, sincere, energetic and cheerful girl who is always looking for adventure. But often, due to her age, her trusting nature and her curiosity, she doesn't always understand the risks and ends up in various messes. The girl is very friendly to everyone she meets! She believes that the world is a kind and beautiful place! Some kids think that Shayla is strange and weird (at least because of her "weird" family), which is why she gets mocked, but she doesn't read social cues (she's kinda autistic coded).

Likes: creative activities (drawing, needlework, sewing (not very wearable yet), making different outfits, daddy's jewelry, laughing, getting up early, climbing trees.

Dislikes: being controlled and restricted, rudeness, social games (she doesn't understand them).

She is the only and most wanted child for Ren and Angel, they had her when they were 30-35 years old. They love her very much!! Thanks to Ren, the family is very wealthy! Redacted spoils her a lot, fulfills all her wishes (well, as much as possible, since it's all after Angel, of course). In Shayla's family, both parents work, but Ren does it from home like he used to. So while Angel is at work, Redacted spends most of his time with their daughter. He picks her up from school, takes her to classes, goes for walks with her + does the housework, cooks, etc (basically he's a stay-at-home dad, because I don't think he needs to spend half a day on hacking; a couple of three hours is enough). With the birth of Shayla, Ren has begun to keep an eye not only on Angel, but also on their daughter, though not as closely. Thanks to this, he manages to get the girl out of trouble in time, but he often arrives at the very last moment.

Shayla is very attached to her father, she thinks he is the coolest dad in the world!!! She loves spending time with him, as well as his dark style and tattoos! She is a daddy's girl :))

While Angel is undoubtedly still Ren's top priority, Redacted genuinely loves his daughter both as an affirmation/continuation of their love with Angel AND for who she is. Her cheerful nature often lifts his spirits. Now, he has another person in his life who helps him see the world through a different, less apathetic and indifferent lens. Ren sees how naive and kind his daughter is and protects her to keep that light in her. And when Shayla comes up with questionable ideas… He supports her! He even suggests something himself😭 BUT even he has limits. He will not do anything that might harm her.

(pretty much everything canon about how Sai describes Dad!Ren)

RANDOM FACTS AND HEADCANONS:

I named her after that meme OOHH MY SHAYLAAA😭 (I didn't have a name for her at first, so I just called her that in my mind for a while. It was actually quite funny to me… but eventually it started to grow on me, ngl, so I kept it)

You know those stories where a kid goes into their mom's makeup bag, purse, or closet and tries on something? In this case, mom is Ren💀 Shayla loves to find all kinds of alt stuff from Redacted, ask what it is, and then try it on herself! Redacted gave her some - a spiked bracelet and a silver chain!

Ren agrees to paint Shayla's nails. She wears all the colors of the rainbow, but she likes to keep all her nails black on one hand, though!

Thanks to the creative atmosphere in the family and Redacted's alternative style, Shayla will be a goth in the future! She's also going to become an alt-clothing designer.

She is wearing three of the five gold hairpins that Ren used to wear! When Redacted and Angel got married, he started wearing only two hairpins - a symbol of their relationship. Years later, when Shayla was born and grew up, the rest of the hairpins were inherited to her, and she wears them with great pride, just like the rest of her dad's jewelry.

Shayla also has her dad's features. She has pale, dry skin and black hair. However, her eyes are a unique combination of Ren's color (blue) + my Angel's (red) = creating a beautiful purple color for her.(I know that's not how gynetics works lmaoo I just think it's cute!!!)

aaaand also, @yzumimenu drew some amazing fanart of Shayla, LOOK AT HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND TY SO MUCH AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"yaaay he thinks i look like an angel!! !!!! >_<"

this is so fvcking old but i FINALLY finish it >:)

Taken (Part 1/5)

Uhhhh this is my first time posting a fic anywhere lmao, idk what I'm doing but enjoy ig? :D Ren and image belong to @14dayswithyou content warnings are in the tags

Summary: Angel runs into trouble after hanging out with Jae and Teo

2.1k words

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

“Get away from me!” I yell as loudly as I can, hoping to either get the guy to back off or get someone else’s attention. Of course the one time I decide to go to a bar and try to be social I get some creep trying to follow me home.

The man was swaying just a bit, clearly intoxicated, with shoulder-length black hair falling over their flushed face in greasy strands. I was pretty sure I could take him down if need be, but the fact that he was blocking the only way out from the alleyway concerned me. I had used the back exit specifically to avoid him, but he was a step ahead of me, probably not the first time he’s done this.

He began speaking again, slightly slurring his words, “Awww, c’mon, a pretty girl like you walking home alone? S’not safe, let m’come with you.”

I glare, “Listen, I’m not interested in anything you have to offer me, what I would appreciate most is if you got out of my way.”

He takes a step forward and I take a matching step back. He croons, “I’m not gonna hurt ya, stop being so paranoid.”

This time when he steps forward, I hold my ground, shifting my stance and holding my hands out in something between a placating gesture and a guard, “I’m warning you now, if you don’t back off…”

I don’t finish the threat as I don’t really have any leverage. My phone’s battery is dead so I can’t call for help, and my knife is in my bag, which I had forgotten to even bring. Sure, I knew martial arts, but that probably wouldn’t mean much to this guy.

So as he staggers closer, giggling, I follow his movements, recalling some of the simplest ways to take someone down. But just as he gets within range, his entire demeanor changes, his dazed look and swaying stance fall into a predatory glare and light-footed lunge. I catch the glint of what was probably a knife slashing from behind his back and sloppily swing my arm down to block it. I intercept his forearm, but don’t have the strength to hold back a full-bodied swing at a moment’s notice, so the blade catches my shirt and burns across my hip.

For a moment, the world freezes. I can hear a thousand thoughts and regrets flash through my mind, but they sound distant, detached. The man steps out of my reach and gives me a disgusting grin while I stand in shock. My hand shakily moves to cover the open wound, and I can’t help but look down at the thick liquid smearing on my palm. I try to step backwards, but the twisting of the wound sends jolts of searing pain up my side and I fall, holding my hip as hard as I can as I yell out expletives.

From my collapsed position on the ground I raise my head to keep track of my attacker, but he just stands laughing at me, apparently reveling in the first blood he had managed to take. What I didn’t expect to see, though, was a different figure, clad in all black and wielding a sledgehammer above their head, aiming at the black-haired stranger in complete silence. I can’t see their face clearly since their hoodie shadowed it, but I can feel their anger as the sledgehammer makes impact with the stranger’s head, flinging his entire body to the side with the force of the blow.

I stare at what's left of the man’s head as it makes impact with the wall of the alley and slowly slides back down. Red. Everything was red. The walls, the ground, the body that was laying crumpled at their junction, and the face of the person who undoubtedly just killed him. As I follow the trail of red, I notice its hue doesn’t stain their clothes, only turns it a richer shade of black. But their face…

It's twisted into an ugly expression, something between disgust, frustration, and utter apathy as they consider the body before them. The splashes of red sharply contrast their pale skin as it drips down their cheek. I shuffle backwards as best I can, fighting the morbid curiosity to look back to the silent body on my left, instead keeping them fixed on the cold face in front of me. I see a flash of blue as they turn away hurriedly, dragging a neck gaiter higher over their nose and pulling their hood low once again before approaching me.

I belatedly notice the tears running down my face and try to wipe them away, not wanting to appear weak before this new opponent, though there probably wasn’t much chance of that at this point. My efforts accomplish nothing but smearing my own blood and dirt across my face, but I have no time to worry about that as my back hits the dead end behind me.

I can’t hear anything except the roaring pain in my side and my heartbeat thrumming in my ears louder than any bassline I’d heard before. I glance behind me to confirm that there was indeed no escape before returning to the shadowy figure now crouching just out of my reach.

To my surprise, when his gloved hand returned from the depths of his pocket, it held not a weapon, but a phone. He speaks into it in a foreign language, and a million thoughts run through my brain, piecing together what I can from my shaky understanding: Fuck, he called someone. That’s Japanese. I know Japanese! Daijōbudesu? It’s okay? No the fuck it’s not! Is he even talking to me? Something about this place? Someone staying here? Fuck, is he calling in reinforcements? Who’s on the other line? Kudasai? This bitch is being polite??? Is it the police?

When he finishes speaking, he immediately turns the phone to face me. I read the displayed text:

‘All right. Called an ambulance. Please exist here and keep stress on the defects.’

Despite the situation, I let out a choked laugh at the shoddy translation, though luckily it managed to convey the pieces I hadn’t understood. The blue, red, yellow, and green logo in the top right corner confirmed my suspicions, “Google translate? Really? That’s not even close to what you said. Google sucks at translating Japanese; you’d be better off with Spanish or another romance language, if you know it,” I ramble out what comes to mind, whether he can understand me or not.

It seems like he understands me since he makes a surprised sound and shakes his head before turning the phone back to read it himself and letting out an irritated sigh. He pulls off a glove to attempt typing but I speak up again, despite my voice shaking and hitching so badly that he might need google translate to figure out what I’m saying, “I think I know what- what… you mean. Do you- do you- do-. You- FUCK,” cursing to dispel my stutter, I continue, “You want me to stay here for the ambulance and keep pressure on the cut, right? Thank… you?” It feels weird to thank someone who just smashed a guy’s head in, but staying on their good side was probably the best idea for now.

He nods and reaches out a hand toward my head, which I would have withdrawn from if my head wasn’t already against the wall, but since I couldn’t, I just squeezed my eyes shut, hoping whatever came next wouldn’t be too painful. When I feel a gentle ruffling sensation of my hair, my eyes pop back open in surprise. I clearly see their own eyes for the first time, looking at me far more softly than they had any right to.

My confused look seemed to shake them out of whatever reverie they were in, and he abruptly retrieves his hand, looking down again and mumbling, “ごめん, 目をそらす.”

To reinforce his meaning, he covers his own eyes before pointing at me. I hesitantly raise a hand over my eyes, but peek through a sliver to make sure he wasn’t going to try anything. He didn’t, instead turning and standing, approaching the dead man. I close the gap, not wanting to see what he did.

The swirling, sickening feeling in my gut only increases the more I think about the stranger’s eyes. A strikingly beautiful color, ocean blue with a hint of pink swirling through them if you looked closely enough. I was sure I had seen them before but couldn’t recall when or where. What bothered me more though, were their eyebrows. Pink. I only knew one insanely tall person with pink hair.

But of course it couldn’t be him, it’s not like pink hair is unheard of. And he would never be able to wield a sledgehammer like that, he’s always so timid… and those definitely weren’t his eyes. His are a much lighter baby blue. Plus he speaks English, he probably doesn’t even know Japanese. I reassure myself. Surely my partner could never kill someone with such ease.

Despite my conclusion, I can’t help but spread my fingers again, peeking out to see the person’s form dropping a half-full trash bag on the spot where the remains of the man’s head was, covering the worst of the remaining viscera. I couldn’t see the body anywhere, but the dumpster was closed now, and I wasn’t about to check it. I evaluate his height, placing it at about six and a half feet. The same as… No. But what if?

I see him pick up the serrated knife that was left on the ground, inspecting it closely, though for what I wasn’t sure. I drop my hand from my eyes, instead using it to brace against the wall as I try to stand up, but hiss in pain and slide right back down. This grabs the attention of the black-clad figure and he takes a few hasty steps towards me, gesturing for me to stay down.

I warily eye the knife in his hand, and he gets the message, tossing it behind him somewhere carelessly before opening his hands, showing that they’re empty. They then back away, glancing between me and the entrance of the alleyway a few times before turning to leave.

I call out desperately, “Wait!” I’d never be able to face my boyfriend if I didn’t confirm this wasn’t him now, but how could I do that? I continue in a timid voice, forcing a few more tears to roll down my face, “Don’t leave me, please. I’m scared…”

He hesitantly turns back to me but stays where he is, clearly uncertain.

I let my bottom lip tremble, “Could you just… could I hold your hand?” I cringe internally at the insane request, but to my surprise it seems to convince them as they return to my side, kneeling on one knee and offering his right hand to me.

But that’s not what I needed, so I winced and snatched both of my hands back to my hip. When he reaches for my hip with his left hand, I grip onto it as though it was the only thing keeping me from dying. To my shock, I feel what I was looking for. A ring on their ring finger, the same thickness and width as the one he always wore around his neck.

I freeze, not able to meet their eyes. Turns out I knew nothing of my boyfriend of three months. I pull my hand back as unobtrusively as possible, betrayal and horror coursing through my veins as I murmur, “Sorry, you probably should go before the ambulance gets here.”

I watch as they pause, clearly thrown by my sudden change of heart. But when we hear sirens closing in from the distance, they shoot to their feet and briskly walk out of the alleyway, casually grabbing the sledgehammer they had left standing in the middle of the path as though it weighed nothing. I shivered at the comfort he handles the weapon with.

When the ambulance arrives, they asked me a multitude of questions, most I didn’t know the answer to. When they asked me who was responsible for my wound, I just pointed a shaky finger towards the dumpster, “I think he’s in there…”

When questioned further about the second figure, I only gave vague answers, not anything that would be helpful in a search. Luckily for me, my swimming vision and pounding headache finally gave way to sweet unconsciousness, the blood loss finally catching up to me.

yoohoo!!! @nabi004 and @mialuna4 and that one anon!!! sick angel request!!! many thanks for the love <3

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~A Sick Angel~

“Can you please—”

“No.”

The past few minutes had been like talking to a brick wall. [REDACTED] hadn't let you move an inch from the bed since you’d woken up in an agonizing daze.

Sure, you felt like complete shit, maybe a little on the side of a fever. And the moment you sat up you wanted to scream. But it was manageable. If you tried, you'd be able to make it through a day at the library. 

Blue eyes quickly narrowed, as if they knew exactly what you were thinking. It was frustrating how stubborn they could be when he wanted to.

You attempted to frown at your companion. Nothing really changed about your haggard expression—thanks to your face and entire body feeling like dead weight—but your tone worked well enough. “I need to go to work today.”

“Not happening,” he insisted as he reached up to your forehead.

You closed your eyes for just a second. His cold palm against your brow was too heavenly to ignore. “I don't want to let Elanor down. Today's really important for her,” you croaked.

They didn't bother to hide the momentary disgust in their tone at the mention of your coworker. “She wouldn't want y’working either, Angel.” As if to prove his point, they tapped away on your phone. He'd been holding it hostage behind his back. 

Only a minute later, it dinged with a response and he finally held it out to you. Elanor had sent a polite and elaborate text as always. You read through it while he continued to run both of their cold hands over your heated face like two makeshift ice packs.

Good morning, [REDACTED]. At least I assume so from how brief that message was? Thank you for letting me know Y/N is ill! I'm sure they must be worried about missing today's event but we can handle it just fine! And I’m happy to take some pictures for them! Please take good care of them and give my well wishes. Regards, Elanor.

You raised an eyebrow and scrolled back up to the paltry message he'd sent her.

sick no work

Somehow, it was probably the nicest thing they'd ever managed to send any of your friends. You looked back up at him with what was meant to be a pout. “Okay then.”

With instant trust in your word, he stood up to leave the room. He soon returned with his arms full. A cold compress, medicine, some drinks, and anything else they thought you might need. You lightly rolled your neck and resigned to your fate as a patient when he sat next to you. The medicine and drink he offered were swallowed without fuss on your part, then you laid down. The throbbing pain already seemed to calm as you did.

The compress stayed at his side instead of being placed on your forehead like you thought. You felt their hand on your cheek yet again, a more noticeable chill to his rough skin this time.

“Just in case it feels too cold f’you,” he explained before you even asked.

It felt perfect, so you didn't mind at all. You practically purred in relief at the gentle circles they rubbed. You tiredly looked up to him as you complained, if only to tease them, “I'm a little disappointed you didn't bring out the nurse outfit.”

“‘Course you are.” His eyes lit up with mischief, a knowing smile cut across his lips to match your playful one. “I'll make it up t’you when y'feel better, yeah?” Their thumb slowly traced back and forth from one corner of your mouth to the other.

“Germs, you weirdo,” you reminded him. Though you didn't bother to shake off his hand, weak as you were. “You’ll get sick.”

“Y’worried about me, love? Cute. But I promise ‘M not gonna catch whatever you have that easy.” They leaned down to kiss your flushed temple, eventually settling propped up on one arm to lay as close as possible beside you. Faintly warm breath tickled the top of your head until you drifted back to sleep under their watchful gaze.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY REN^_^ !

this was such a last minute piece ahdksjdksj