Episode 97: Bishies, JRPGs, and the Art of Romance

I’ve never called myself a gamer.

Anime? Not much either.

Manga? Yes. Specifically shojo and josei. The quiet intensity of romance, the clever characterizations, the slow burn of emotional intimacy—I thrive on it.

But… sometimes, watching Beckett immerse himself in anime JRPGs or visual novels feels just as satisfying and joining on him and maybe induldge in some "fun time" at the same time can be certianly an enjoyable expierence hehehehe.

“…It’s… oddly appropriate,” I murmur quietly, sipping lavender tea, scrolling through my manga collection.
“…All of these bishies, all of these careful, polite, brilliant boys…”

Analise’s notification pings on Discord:

“Again with the sweet shy young ones? You’re obsessed.”

I grin. “…Yes. Just like someone I know.”

Mira and Lina quickly chime in, teasing me relentlessly.

“It’s literally uncanny. Every route is Beckett in disguise.”
“You have zero chance of ignoring it.”

I can’t argue. They’re right.

Malcolm pops his head in, watching me scroll through my collection while also quietly eyeing Beckett, who is sprawled on the sofa, mask and scarf slightly askew, gloves on, immersed in a JRPG romance route.

“…You two are… weirdly perfect for each other,” Malcolm says, smirking.
“…It’s hilarious. The coincidence is too precise.”

Beckett mutters under his breath, “…I’m not even trying.”

“…And yet,” I whisper, brushing my fingers against his shoulder as he frowns slightly at a game choice, “…all of your careful, polite, introverted tendencies are exactly why I love you. And exactly why these routes appeal to me in the first place.”

The twins, Peresphone and Hades, watch quietly from the corner, fangs just visible, expressionless but clearly absorbing every interaction.

“…Observe,” I murmur to Beckett. “…Even they get the pattern. The archetype, the consistency.”

Beckett shrugs, still completely absorbed in his game. “…I just pick the paths that make sense.”

I lean against him, smirking. “…Exactly. That’s why you’re perfect for me. And why my obsession with these stories makes sense.”

Analise, Mira, and Lina bombard me with more teasing.

“It’s literally Beckett every time!”
“Even the shy, clever, morose personality?”
“Don’t deny it!”

I only smile, sipping my tea. “…I do not deny. I embrace it.”

Beckett finally looks up, dark eyes meeting mine under his mask. “…You really enjoy this, don’t you?”

“…Every second,” I murmur, brushing my hand lightly against his scarf, “…because it reminds me of us. Quiet, clever, misanthropic, and somehow perfect together.”

The twins roll their eyes faintly at our public display of affection, but Hades mutters, “…They match, unsurprisingly.”

By the time the evening draws on, the manga and JRPGs remain open, Discord notifications pinging softly, laughter and teasing floating through the manor.

All of it—the books, the games, the quiet observation of Beckett, and his quiet devotion to the romance paths in his own JRPGs—boils down to love in the smallest details.

“…And that,” I murmur to Beckett, leaning against him again, “…is why we are perfect.”

Beckett adjusts his mask slightly, a soft chuckle escaping. “…We’re… disturbingly perfect.”

I just smile, dark lipstick glinting under the soft lamplight, knowing he’s exactly right.

I tapped at my own laptop, resuming my otome game session while texting Analise about my latest progress:

“…And he finally confessed! Classic sweet shy bishie move. Remind you of anyone?”

Analise replied with a string of laughing emojis and “…Diana, you literally can’t stop yourself, can you?”

“…I cannot,” I admitted. “…And why would I?”

The twins, meanwhile, sat silently, clearly proud of their little “social media justice mission.”

Beckett exhaled softly, mask in place, gloves slightly adjusted, scarf tugged nervously.
“…I… feel… better,” he murmured. “…Thanks to my children, and… you.”

I brushed my fingers along his scarf. “…See? Days off aren’t entirely wasted.”

We all glanced at the server logs together.

“…All social media is total nonsense,” Peresphone declared stoically.
“…Agreed,” Hades added.

I laughed softly, leaning against Beckett. “…Yes. And our little family doesn’t need it. Never did. Never will.”

Beckett smiled faintly under his mask, quietly sipping his herbal iced tea. “…Indeed.”

And so, the quiet gothic household continued, introverted, anti-social, and perfectly in control of their world—where days off were for games, family, subtle mischief, and very occasionally, social justice for the sake of cheer.