#because this universe can't have nice things apparently

[mercurygray]

Tough weeks ahead at uni and health struggles along the way therefore: self-care. Could I request 28. ‘undress’ from your most recent prompt list for Edith and Godwin pleaaaase? 👉🏻👈🏻

The air was thick with laughter.

The weather was fine, for June, not too hot or cold, and the sun promised a beautiful day. A perfect day for traveling, in other words -The queen was on her way to Winchester, for her yearly visit, and had stopped to enjoy the sunshine and the opportunity for her ladies to bathe.

They would not see him, if they stopped to look - the guards were far enough away and they were free and easy here, under the apple blossoms, the water speckled white with falling flowers.

Godwin hardly needed the spectacle - there were fleshhouses aplenty in WInchester, if one knew where to look and had the coin to pay. Pilgrims came seeking many things in that city, and not everyone regarded the ways of the flesh as a sin. But it was here, and it was easy enough to watch, hidden as he was by the thicket. He should have been watching Aelfwynn, splashing with the other younger girls, but try as he might she could not hold his eye - it kept wandering to another woman, near the edge, her hair just as dark and long and lovely.

He'd never seen Edith undressed- their subterfuge with Aelfgifu had hardly needed to go that far. Even now, he could not see all of her, standing in the pond in her shift, the water making it cling to her. But he knew the feeling of her body, the curve of her hips and her buttocks, the softness of her breasts. And there had been a time when he'd wanted - wanted all of it, and more.

If he were closer he might see the color of her nipples behind the wet linen, how they stood when she was cold - how her smile might change if he took one in his hand. And if he closed his eyes for just a moment he could conjure her closer - standing here in the shadows, wet and in her shift.

You could have had me, her voice reminded. I was close and quick for you and you could have said a word and made me yours. But you were greedy, Godwin. Her voice was soft and seductive in his ear. And you didn't think I could give you want you wanted.

You couldn't.

Power, perhaps - but you want other things, too.

Other women could give me those.

Oh, what a ripple of laughter then! Aelfwynn could try - and Gytha, too. But they'll never be what you really want - and you already know that. You want salt and silk - and someone who's not afraid to say no.

"Oh, leave me be," he whispered aloud, but no one heard him- and only the laughter answered back.

[hellolulu]

DCU fandom is so funny because everyone is always mad. Feels like living with my parents again 🥰 home sweet home 🥰

[baby-tini]

Bully Dabi🥵 he messes with you your whole life ever since you moved in the neighborhood. He makes sure you don't have any meaningful connections with friends from school so no one bothers you. It wasn't till University that it got kicked up a notch. He wasn't shoving into you or saying mean things anymore it was more sexual now. He grabs you around the corner of a classroom and makes you grind on him. While doing that he says the nastiest things in your ear. 'You always wanted this' 'wanted to ruin you for so long' 'wait till you see my cock you'll drool over it like the little cock slut you are' 'my cock slut' 'can't wait to see this tummy buldge from my cock'

TW- NONCON, victim blaming, sexual assault, bullying, verbal and physical abuse You had moved into the neighborhood when you were about eight years old, your dad had gotten a new job that payed way better then his old one. Being an only child, you never really had people to play with so, when your dad told you that there was a family across the street with kids your age, you were ecstatic. The kids were really nice to you, well, except the oldest, Touya or as all his friends called him, Dabi. He was always so mean to you. Tripping you, pulling your hair, spilling juice on your pretty clothes, you never liked Touya, he never gave you a reason too. So, you did your best to avoid him, you only came over to play with Fuyumi anyway, so, you would just be in her room playing dolls and having fun, until you had to go home. Now the bullying wasn't too bad as kids, it was more like an inconvenience for you. But in high school? That's when it started to get worse, the tripping turned into Dabi- as he now forced you to call him- pushing you into lockers and laughing when he sees the bruises on your shoulders and thighs. The hair pulling turned into him yanking you up by your hair as he called you mean names. You wanted to tell someone, you truly did but all the girls loved Dabi, that was apparent when he had a new one hanging off him everyday. Plus you didn't want your parents to move you to a different school, you had a lot of friends here. You especially didn't want to tell Fuyumi, knowing she'd tell everyone, it would be in good faith coming from her but, she really couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

Dabi being older then you by a couple years means he graduated and went to college first, giving you two years of peace, you didn't have to look over your shoulder or wear jackets all the time in order to cover the bruises he inflicted. You could have fun and joke around with friends without him staring you down from across the hall. It was the best two years of school you've had in your life, plus, Dabi moved into a dorm on campus with his friends Keigo and Tomura. So, you rarely saw Dabi around the neighborhood, except when he came home occasionally on weekends. But even then, you'd rather five- rarely seven- days of peace then none at all. It also meant you could talk to guys without Dabi threatening them or in most cases, beating them black and blue. It's the worst in college though, the years of peace in high school gone all too quickly as you start uni. Although, you don't have any classes with Dabi, so you rarely see him. After classes is a different story though, he's trailing after you, holding you hostage in empty classroom and calling you mean names as his bullying gets bolder.. more.. sexual. He's pinning you against the wall now, leaving hickeys and bruises on your neck, shoving his tongue in your mouth and probably the worst is when he pushes you on top of the desk to spread your legs and hump your cunt over your clothes. Then there was the time that Dabi had dragged you you into an empty classroom, calling you a slut because your skirt was too short for his liking as he laid you on the empty teacher desk and proceeded to pull your skirt up and take his cock out. He had you lay there as he rubbed the head of his dick over your clit, through your panties, making you beg for him to play with your pussy. "Feels good, doesn't it slut?" Forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist, he grinds into your cunt. Slapping your hands away when you try to hide your face and laughing when you start to cry. Pumping his cock a couple times, he runs it over your panties, making sure his tip catches your clit. Trying to look away from him doesn't work 'cause he'll just pull your upper body off the desk and make you watch him fuck your clit, his slit leaking beads of pre-cum, wetting the sensitive nub, his piercing catching on it so nicely. He'll switch from that, to pulling your underwear to the side so that he can slap at the little bundle of nerves and rolling it with his pointer and thumb.

"I don't know why you're covering your face, you were asking for it, wearing all the slutty clothes that you do." Dabi says the meanest things when he has you like this, he's never been soft while he touches you. Always bending you over the railing in the stairwell so that he can lift your skirt to rub your pussy with two fingers then he'll pull your thong tightly against your pussy, so that your lips peak out and he can grind against you. Or when you're leaving the building he'll pull you with him behind the school so that he can give 'daily hole checks,' as he calls them. He says he does them to make sure you're not whoring yourself out, seeing how tight you are by making you suck on his fingers so he can push them inside you. "Bend over bitch, I won't ask again, gotta make sure this pussy is just how I left it." If you're too slow doing as he asks, he'll push against the wall and pulling your ass towards him. From there, he'll pull your panties down, letting them drop to your ankles as he spreads your pussy open and literally stares at your pussy for minutes, pulling lips apart and pushing tip of his thumb inside, spitting on your clit and using his palm to spread it all over your cunt, getting spit on your thighs as he does so. If he deems that your pussy isn't how he left, whether his cum is no longer in you or you feel "looser" then he'll punish you. He makes you hold up your skirt from behind with your face squished against the dirty brick wall as he slaps your ass, hitting you so hard your eyes burn from the salty tears running down your cheeks. Telling you mean things as he carries out his brutal assault on your ass. "Don't start crying now bitch, if you weren't such a slut, I wouldn't have to hit you." or, "Did you really wipe my cum out of you? You ungrateful little whore." and, "Move away from me again and see what happens, I'll hit a lot fucking harder, try me." and of course, "You really think anyone'll believe you? Those bitches you hang out with would kill to be in your position, would beg to have my cock stretching them so full it bulges from their fucking stomach.

[bboricha]

we did... what in your mind?!

➳ wc: ~600 ➳ pairings: pervert streamer!kaedehara kazuha x mind reader afab!reader ➳ cw: shibari, one (1) hickey, pet name (my love), praise kink if u squint ➳ kabukicho bad trip: 5wirl edition masterlist

synopsis: you're in lit class with one of the most famous people at your university, kaedehara kazuha, a streamer. you happen to be bored and ran out of things to do, letting your eyes wander around the room and you end up meeting kazuha's, getting a glimpse into his mind.

you're sitting in class, zoning out to the droning voice of your professor, going on about Chaucer or Conrad or something—you're not sure, you don't really care. heart...darkness...canterbury... it's whatever, it's not important.

you've already run out of things to do on your laptop too. solitaire? you're tired of it. tetris? you might rage even if it isn't a rage kind of game. amazon? you're too broke. you huff out a frustrated breath, opting to look around the class instead, to maybe daydream, or maybe listen to what others have to say. in their minds, you mean.

yes, you'd rather not listen to other people's thoughts because you know how creepy it would be if they knew, because you know, you just want to respect their privacy. but sometimes you genuinely can't help it if you happen to make eye contact with them—that’s what triggers it after all. it’s kind of hard though to keep your eyes cast down all the time because you also try to make an effort to seem like a normal, sociable person. it just gets awkward sometimes when you're speaking and they start thinking of a lunch menu instead.

your eyes wander over to kaedehara kazuha—a popular streamer known for his parasocial relationships with his fans that happen because he's apparently genuinely nice. not that it matters, but his existence in your class has been a bit of a nuisance to say the least. at the start of the semester, people used to flock around your class at the beginning and the end in hopes of snapping a photo of him. you understand why, he's very attractive pretty and famous, who wouldn't want a picture of an internet celebrity? a lot of people actually, but it doesn't too much anymore because apparently he asked on stream for people to stop it and to your surprise, they actually listened (lol). 

it was then his eyes met yours and you flinch, a barrage of obscene images flooding your head.

”you actually like being tied up, don’t you?” kazuha asks, the breath of his voice hits your ear as he tugs on the binds around your body, pulling you towards him. the red rope digs into your skin, the sting complementing the way his fat cock drags inside your walls. he sucks a mark onto the crook of your neck, promptly pushing you back into his pillows as he takes hold of your hips, spreading you apart as he pulls out, leaving just the tip in.

“you’re sucking me in so… much,” he groans, slowly thrusting back inch by inch, making you whine against his sheets begging for him to go faster. “patience is a virtue, my love.”

he bottoms out, grinding on you when he tugs at the rope again, tears falling from your eyes as a result. he takes notice of this, caging you with his frame as he leans in, the angle of his cock seemingly hitting you even deeper than before (if it was even possible), and he wipes the tears from your eyes.

“just a bit more, alright? you’re doing so well,”

you gasp, averting your eyes and immediately slapping a hand over your mouth to prevent any more unprompted noises. what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?? you think, entirely unsure how to process this sudden surge of information. you cautiously look back up towards kazuha’s direction against your better judgment, almost flinching for a second time when you notice his stare. he mouths a “are you ok,” his thoughts reading as genuinely concerned so you vehemently nod your head and he smiles in return. you can feel your cheeks heating up as you place your arm on the desk, resting your chin on your hand and returning your attention to your computer that was left open on a new tab.

➳ an: foaming at the mouth i love ooc kazuha where there's more than meets the eye with him oh god

[roxineedstosleep]

Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

[thepixelelf]

and the universe said,

07 - "bro, chill"

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: coarse language. kithing. a liiitle svt on svt violence note: ik it's been a long time please be nice to me <3 (this isn't edited... I'll take a look at it when I have the time)

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

series masterlist

prev ��� chapter seven (4.0k) ⭒ next

“Where are they?” Myungjun asks as soon as Jihoon and Junhui enter the room they agreed upon.

Junhui braces both of his arms on the back of a chair. “What do you mean?”

“Your soulmate—” Cutting himself off with a sigh, Myungjun pinches the bridge of his nose and answers his own question. “You didn’t bring them.”

Yejung, who was sitting at a table with her laptop, shuts it with a frown. “Why not?”

Junhui shrugs. “I’m just here because Jihoon dragged me out.” He shifts between looking at the three other people in the room. “You guys know I just met my soulmate, right? I don’t like not having them here with me, either.”

“Well then why didn’t you—”

“They don’t know.” Jihoon cuts off Myungjun’s words, then pulls out a chair and drops himself in it. He stares at a random spot on the table. When he doesn’t elaborate any further, Yejung sends a furtive glance Myungjun’s way.

“Don’t know…” She leans her forearms on the table and scoots her chair closer. “...what? That you’re their soulmate? That there’s more than one of you? That you’re famous?”

Junhui snorts. “All of the above?”

At Junhui's quip and Jihoon's continued silence, Myungjun raises a cynical brow.

"You didn't tell them?" Yejung asks, softly shocked. "Why?"

Junhui's eyes skirt to Jihoon; he's unwilling to share his own reasons, though he doesn't quite understand this about himself, either.

Jihoon sighs. "I don't know. It's complicated. Things happened too fast the first time we—"

"The first time?" Myungjun echoes. "So you've been with them multiple times."

“Don’t say it like that.” Jihoon almost pouts, but the facial expression just makes him look angry. “Look. I ran into them when the vocal team was on the way to that radio show. We’d stopped by a cafe and there wasn’t much time and I was so out of my mind that I—” He cuts himself off. “It doesn’t matter. I got their number, and then they left. I asked to meet today and we did. Jun was already there for…” With his arms crossed, Jihoon looks over at Junhui, remembering that he still doesn’t really know what Junhui was doing at the same cafe you apparently frequent. Is this the same cat cafe Junhui is always talking about? “…some reason. Then someone started singing, and they told us their soulmate is stupid and annoying because their mark…”

“It’s not like ours,” Junhui finishes for Jihoon, though this only deepens the confusion written on Yejung and Myungjun’s faces.

“If it's not like yours, then how do you know they're your—”

“It's them, Hyung.” Jihoon can't help noticing the hopelessness in his own voice. It's you. He knows it's you.

But you don't know it's them— him.

And he's not sure you want to know.

“Their mark, like, grows,” Junhui explains. “Ours just stay on our hands, but when one of us sings, the notes go all over their arms and neck. Maybe other places — I don’t know — but they obviously don’t think it’s either of us since we weren’t singing when their mark did its thing.”

“So…” Myungjun crosses his arms and taps his finger on his bicep. “They don't like their mark.”

Junhui doesn't nod right away, but he does eventually.

Myungjun turns to Jihoon. “And you think that means they don't like you.”

Groaning and rubbing his hands over his face, Jihoon doesn't dignify that with a response. “Even if they did like their mark, it’s an insane situation. Thirteen soulmates? They’re gonna run for the hills when they find out.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Yejung says, to which Jihoon gives her a dry look and Junhui’s eyes light up. She clears her throat. “We just need to find a way to calmly inform them of the situation — preferably in a safe, comfortable environment.”

Myungjun recognizes a Yejung Game Plan brewing when he sees it. “Basically, what she’s saying is…”

“Let me talk to them.” Yejung opens her laptop again and begins typing away. “We just need to go about this in a calm, logical manner.” She gives a little nonchalant wave of her hand. “This’ll be easier than a design meeting.”

⭒

You’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, arms crossed, legs too, as you stare down at the shiny black credit card lying there between you and Heejun. His position mirrors yours, head tilted while he studies the card.

“It could be fake,” you say. Your knee bounces up and down, up and down.

Heejun lifts his head to give you a look. “Why would it be fake?”

“He said he doesn’t believe in banks.”

“It doesn’t look fake.” Heejun reaches out and takes the card, flipping it over in his fingers to read the back. “Looks like any other credit card. We should test it.”

You frown. “How?”

“Uh,” Heejun speaks like the answer is obvious. “Buy something?”

Okay, it is obvious, but the idea doesn’t sit too well with you. “Isn’t that stealing?”

“He gave you the card.”

“Yeah, but the police don’t know that,” you argue. “If I got charged for fraud, it would be his word against mine— no one would believe coffee guy just handed me his black card.”

Without moving his head, Heejun glances up from the card to look at you. "Why would he lie?"

"Um, because he already has? Who knows— maybe this card is connected to illicit activities and he planted it on me to implicate me."

“Which he would do because…?”

You throw your hands up in the air, then let them drop emphatically at your side. “I don’t know! Why did he do any of what he did?”

He raises a brow. “Because he’s a weirdo who likes you?”

“Okay but have you ever given your credit card to a person you’ve only met twice?”

Heejun’s shoulders rise in a shrug. “I’ve wanted to.”

“Seriously?” You can’t imagine your friend going that gaga over a crush, but then again, there was that girl in fourth grade whom he gave all his choco pies to. Heejun loves choco pies.

“Mine would decline though. It wouldn’t exactly impress.”

You lightly shove his shoulder. “Oh come on, it wouldn’t decline.”

“It would if they went over the limit. People only give people their credit cards for expensive stuff. You know that, right?”

The black card gleams up at you, almost tauntingly.

“Expensive stuff like what?”

He shrugs again. “Like a car?”

“You’ve been watching too many CEO dramas.” You exhale and place both hands on the floor with a pointed slam. Standing, you pick the credit card up and brush imaginary dirt off your pants.

“You won’t be so sarcastic when Park Seojoon tells you to keep that thing.”

You roll your eyes as you toss the card into the same trinket dish you keep your keys and other miscellaneous things in. “Isn’t that guy like six foot?”

“So was Huijun,” he counters.

“So are you. Is that all it takes to be a CEO nowadays?” you joke, pulling out your phone. “Height?”

Heejun scoffs, then frames his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “That and my devilish good looks.”

“Please.” You tap on a notification from an unknown number. “If that were true, you’d be the one handing out black…cards…”

At the way you trail off, Heejun furrows his brow and walks over to you. “What’s up? Did you fall for another online scam?”

Not this again. “Okay, first of all, that was not a scam, and I did not fall for it—”

“You didn’t fall for a not scam?”

“Shut up. What do you think this means?” You turn your phone towards him, and he takes it from your unsteady hand.

He reads aloud. “‘Hello, this is Shin Yejung of Pledis Entertainment.’ Did you apply there?”

“No,” you say, then shake your head and wave your hand. “I mean. I don’t know. Maybe. I applied to like five hundred places. But this isn’t that. Keep reading.”

Heejun takes a breath and starts reading like he’s holding a new edict. “‘It has come to my attention that you are in possession of one of my coworker’s bank cards.’ Oooooh, you’re in trouble.” He drags out the last syllable. “‘Please meet me at…’ whatever building, numbers numbers numbers… ‘so I can retrieve it. Please reply to this number for more information, and thank you for your time.’ Hm.”

“What do you think… am I getting arrested?”

Lowering your phone, Heejun gives you a seriously? look over it. “The cops are texting criminals now?”

“So you agree I’m a criminal.”

“You get annoying when you’re nervous, you know that?” When you roll your eyes, Heejun mirrors the expression and pokes your forehead long enough that he pushes you backward. “Look bub, you wanted to give the stupid thing back without using it, and now the opportunity has been handed right to you.” He waves your phone in the air like evidence. “The only question is why coffee guy didn’t just text you himself.”

You cross your arms. “Maybe he doesn’t like me as much as you thought.”

“One more self-deprecating comment out of you and I’m posting those pictures from your twentieth birthday.”

A gasp wrenches from your throat. “You wouldn’t!”

⭒

Joshua Hong doesn’t think he has that many unread messages on his phone.

He looks down.

Oof. 682.

Well, it’s not his worst.

Notifications fly by at the top of his screen.

[vernon] where is this guy

[chan] hyung this is important!!

[wonwoo] when have we known that guy to answer anything

[soonyoung] someone text yejung!!

It’s probably not that important, whoever they’re talking about. His members are likely just freaking out over this whole soulmate thing again.

Joshua lifts his hand and stares at his weird, natural — supernatural — tattoo. He still can’t bring himself to believe it.

Soulmates? Really? In this economy? This isn’t Tumblr.

At least… Joshua looks around the dance practice room… He’s pretty sure this isn’t Tumblr.

His phone rings, which is weird since he always has it on silent. Sliding the answer button, he brings the phone up to his ear. “Yejung?”

“Where are you?”

“The practice room,” Joshua answers plainly. “Isn’t this where we’re supposed to be today?”

Yejung sighs on the other end of the line. “I said in the group chat that we were dealing with soulmate stuff. Upstairs.”

Ah, so that’s what has everyone in a tizzy. “Alright, okay. Where am I going?”

“Room eight-thirteen—” He hangs up and starts to pack his things before Yejung can say, “Wait, no, nine-thirteen. We'll start when you arrive. Joshua? Hello?”

⭒

You check your phone for what must be upwards of the fifth time.

Yup, Shin Yejung of Pledis Entertainment definitely told you to meet her in room 813, and yet here you are. In room 813. Alone.

You shift on the leather couch. It’s a lounge-like room you’re in. You don’t really understand the purpose of such a room in an entertainment company, but whatever. You’re only here to return something you never should’ve had in the first place.

Although…

You turn the card over in your hand, watching the way the fancy lighting bounces off of it.

Why would Jihoon give it to you if he was just going to get it back like this?

Also, now that you really think about it, Jihoon did say something weird when he left yesterday with Huijun. Something about not letting “the rest” scare you off. Whatever that means.

The rest of what?

Or… whom?

You know Jihoon must work for the company in some capacity. The fact that both he and Huijun were wearing masks makes you think they could be artists…

Oh. Duh. Why didn’t you think of this earlier?

Switching apps, you tap the search bar and start typing. Just as you’re done with the last character of Jihoon HYBE, the door you entered through opens. You hastily slip your phone into your back pocket as you stand to greet the person coming in.

“Hello, you must be…” Your eyes scan over his face. He’s… delicate looking, until you move your gaze downwards a little, and his broad shoulders and thick arms are decidedly not delicate looking. “…Shin Yejung?”

You tilt your head. With no mask on the lower half of his face, he seems familiar. Now this guy must be an idol — you probably saw him on the walls when you were making your way through this maze of a building. 

He just raises a brow. “Who are you?”

“Oh, uh…” You stay standing in front of the couch as he approaches you, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m just here to return this.” Lifting the black card up, you hold it out between you and the man. “It’s Jihoon’s.”

“Jihoon’s?” he echoes, then moves to take the card from you, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. 

You both see it at the same time.

His mark, five black lines, clear as day.

Yours, peeking out from where your sleeve is pulled halfway up your hand.

You look up from your not-really-joined hands, then look down again.

No fucking way. 

“Twinkle twinkle, little—” The notes, whatever they are, dance across his mark.

No fucking way. 

You meet his eyes. “...Songbird?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. A few too many seconds.

Then, “So it’s you.”

“Holy—!”

At the same time as you try to jerk away, he attempts to turn your hand over and get a better look. Neither plan really works out. You stumble backwards, and with your hand in his, he gets pulled down with you onto the couch. His free hand shoots out to keep himself from slamming into you, but, persistent as the universe is, your faces end up very freaking close to each other anyway. Warmth from his knee on the couch cushion next to your thigh seeps through your clothing.

He doesn’t move. You don’t either.

For some reason, you feel stuck in place. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but… you just feel like you should be exactly where you are.

You’re almost too close to make real eye contact, so you just watch the way his eyes study yours.

“Songbird?” you whisper, though you have no idea what you’re trying to ask.

He stops analyzing you and finally looks at you. “Yeah?”

“…Are you leaning towards me on purpose?”

His lips (since when were you looking at those?) curl down at the corners. “Are you?”

Slowly, like your mind is trying to catch up to your body, you shake your head. “No…”

He drifts closer. Or you do. Or you both do.

Or something.

Your lips brush over his, and you feel just as much as you hear him whisper. “Then neither am I.”

In the span of a second, his free hand moves from the back of the couch to cradle your jaw, his thumb grazing gently just under your ear. He kisses you, lips moving over yours in a way you’ve felt before, but also in a way you’ve never felt before.

It’s strange.

Not bad strange, but strange in the way that it feels like you’ve just put the last of the groceries in the fridge. It’s like folding that final piece of laundry. Like coming home to the bed you made when you left in the morning.

It’s… satisfactory?

But that’s not the word people normally use when they think of putting their tongue in someone else’s mouth, right?

You’re running out of breath, but Songbird is insistent, and so are his lips, which you find yourself unable to get enough of. He pulls back for half a breath, registers your kiss me again or so help me facial expression, and dives right back in. He’s kissing you and you’re kissing him and you’re soulmates and…

Wait.

Soulmates?

“Wait,” you say, though it comes out more like, “Mmaem” Climbing both your hands up his — whoa — strong arms, you cup his cheeks in preparation to push him away, but he seems to like your touch. He covers the back of one of your hands with his warm palm, and he hums in a way that is not PG-13.

The sound has you melting, unfortunately.

Not for long though.

He’s ripped from you just as quickly as he fell onto you, pulled back by some guy with fluffy black hair, cozy attire head to toe, and… shit, a you’re in trouble glare the likes of which you’ve never seen before. He’s not even looking at you, yet you feel scolded.

“Yah!” he yells at your soulmate, who’s now on the floor. Then, after glancing at you for half a second and apparently finding zero more words to say, he shouts at him again. “Yah!”

Your soulmate opens his mouth, but then he turns to look at the now-open door, which leads you to do the same. A mob of prettyboys stands just outside, some with their jaws dropped and some looking like murder just got legalized and they’re on the prowl.

Someone’s despondent voice shouts, “Hyung!”

You feel like hiding under a blanket. Before your flight instinct kicks in, though, you recognize two familiar faces. “Jihoon?” His eyes meet yours when you say his name. “Huijun?”

One of the many boys among those you don't recognize echoes, “Huijun?” while sending him a weird look.

Someone pushes through the crowd — more like slinks through, occasionally nudging one of the other guys out of the way. His eyes stay firmly on you as he approaches, but you find no fear rising despite that. For some unknown reason, even as this completely unfamiliar man strides over to you with a frankly alarming amount of eye contact, you feel… safe.

Or at least, something close to it.

He kneels in front of where you're still seated on the leather couch, hand resting mere centimetres from leg. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice slightly nasal, but so, so gentle. 

“Uhh…” Self conscious, you wipe at the corner of your mouth with your sleeve. You spot your soulmate catch you doing so, and a look of hurt crosses his face. His own reaction, though, seems to startle him, and his hand rises to gently prod his shiny bottom lip with one of his fingers. He looks confused.

Well, that makes two of you.

Taking in the man right in front of you — pretty, lithe, concerned for you despite his unfamiliarity — you fail to answer his question. “Are… you Shin Yejung?”

He lets out a laugh, relieved, maybe, that you're not not okay. “Jeonghan,” he says simply.

You nod. “Jeonghan.”

At your voice echoing his name, the man’s eyes light up. “Yes?”

“Oh, uh…” You weren’t trying to call on him for anything, but as you study his gaze, you find yourself lost in his confident ease. Something in his eyes says that he knew this would happen.

Maybe not this, exactly — your soulmate has found a spot on the floor and has not stopped staring at it, while the rest of the strangers are still watching you — but taking up the same space as you, facing you, smiling at you with a soft quirk at the corners of his lips.

“Ugh!” A woman’s exasperated voice makes you look up at the crowd by the door. “Get— out of the way, you… ugh—” She breaks through, pushing aside a tall guy who looks like he’s about to cry. “—you men!”

Stumbling to her feet, she rights herself and brushes her bangs out of her face with a huff. “Now, what is—” She spots your soulmate still on his ass and mutters something you’re pretty sure can’t be aired on any broadcasting network. “...my life.”

Your eyes meet hers as she takes another breath. “Please tell me you’re Shin Yejung.”

“Yes, we spoke over the phone.”

“Thank god.” Shaking off all the weird feelings you’d accumulated in the last — what? Two minutes? — you stand from the couch and sidestep Jeonghan. The black card fell at some point during that lapse of judgement (aka kiss), so you swipe it up off the floor and hold it out to her with no preamble. “I swear I’m not a stalker fan or anything. And I didn’t use it, so…”

You glance over at Jihoon, whose expression gives off an oncoming panic. Is he scared to see you? Why? Huijun looks just fine, happy even, with you here. You can practically hear the ‘hello’ he wants to say out loud.

You clear your throat. “Anyway, um. I didn’t mean to, uh…” As you nervously cross your arms, you nod towards your soulmate. “I’m his— I mean, we are… sorry. This is… I wasn’t exactly expecting to find the person who’s…”

Maybe you shouldn’t say you’ve been annoyed by your soulmate since you got your stupid mark. At least not while he’s in the room.

“That’s actually what I brought you here to talk about,” Shin Yejung tells you, a bit like a doctor who’s about to deliver the bad news first. She doesn’t even take the card from you. “Would you like to take a seat?”

You scrunch your eyes shut for a second with a little shake of your head, trying to manual reset your brain because clearly it’s still muddled. “Sorry, what? You want to talk about…?”

The mob of men in the room get hidden from your vision as Yejung strategically places herself between them and you. “Soulmates,” she says.

You look down at the black card, then back up at her again. “Soulmates.”

“Yes. Your soulmates. I was hoping to talk to you alone first.” She sends a pointed look at the men behind her. “But it’s not exactly easy to get these guys to lis—”

“Sorry.” You wave a hand in the air to get her to stop, unable to comprehend any of her words after— “Did you say my soulmates? As in… mates, multiple? Mates with an S at the end? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

Remaining calm while your mind spins, Yejung nods. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

“Know what is a lot to take in?”

Yejung opens her mouth to answer, but a voice blurts out behind her, “We’re your soulmates!”

Maybe you haven’t known him long enough or talked to him that many times, but you recognize Jihoon’s voice, and something in your gut suddenly grows sharp. Not painful, but begging for you to feel it. Yejung shifts so your field of view is once again filled by men too pretty to be all in the same room. Jihoon’s standing there, fists clenched at his sides, out of breath for no discernable reason other than…

We’re your soulmates.

Seeing your hesitation, Jihoon huffs and tears a bandaid you never really noticed off the back of his right hand. Even before he completes the motion, you know what must be under the bandage. He holds his hand up, though, and the evidence is very near damning.

Next to him, Huijun smiles and lifts his arm, pointing to his own five lines with his opposite hand. 

Most of the guys behind them show you the same thing. Five lines on the smooth backs of their hands, near the base of the thumb. Dear lord, you don’t even know how many of them there are.

The angry one who pulled the man off of you earlier, at least, just looks lost, like he once had control and now has none. Relatable.

You stumble back a bit. Instinctively, you say, “Songbird?”

Though quite a few of the men seem to perk up at the nickname, only the one you already gave the moniker to truly reacts. Your soulmate — god, one of your soulmates? — looks up at you from the floor and answers, “Yeah?” before realizing he’s even doing it.

“Never mind,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand. “Ms Shin?”

“Yes?” She steps closer, a worried look on her face.

Jeonghan, too, moves toward you with a similar look on his face.

You try to take a steady breath and fail. “I think I’ll take that seat now.”

Swaying backward, your body falls onto the leather couch. 

You hear approximately ten panicked shouts as you go down.

prev ⭒ chapter seven (4.0k) ⭒ next

new chapters for atus are not on a schedule nor guaranteed. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!

[azrielbrainrot]

Maybe We Could Be The Start of Something

Pairing: Band member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there.

Word Count: 3294

Warnings: none

Notes: I had this idea after seeing this art and couldn't stop thinking about it. I actually had a lot of ideas for little stories in this universe but it makes sense to start with how they met. Also I know that's a terrible band name but I never had to name a band before okay. I didn't proofread this because I think I'd delete the whole thing if I did, sorry. This is really self-indulgent but I hope you like it!

Band AU masterlist

You could only blame yourself for agreeing to meet Viviane. Your skull felt like it was going to split open with this headache that has lasted all week. The only thing you wanted to do right now was try to sleep it off under your warm blankets, but instead you willingly came to a bar knowing it was just going to make it worse.

She's been telling you about this place and the bands that perform here occasionally for ages. Apparently it's a real hotspot for up and coming musicians ever since two bands made it big after starting out here. You've been turning her down for weeks so you had promised her that you'd finally come this friday, of course when you agreed you couldn't have known your week was going to be absolute shit. Though most of your days have been shit lately. That might be the actual reason Viv has been so insistent about you going out with her, she knew your mental health was ready to take a vacation and was just being a good friend.

This really hadn't been a good day to come though. Aside from your headache, your last class had also run late, making you lose your bus and barely have time to drop everything off at home and change to come meet your friends. As a little treat you also couldn't find your nice black skirt so you had to just wear jeans, you definitely needed the extra confidence the pretty skirt provided but the universe didn't seem to care about that.

The bar was already packed by the time you got there, you were almost being pushed around while you were searching for your friends. You look down at your phone to ask them where they are and see a text from Viv asking if you're still coming. Reading it makes you stop in your tracks. You can't really blame her for thinking you wouldn't show up since you've been declining every invitation lately, but seeing that she thought you wouldn't even give her a heads up hurt a little. You knew you had been distant lately but you were trying your best to deal with life and you never meant to do it at the expense of your friendships.

You're pushed out of your thoughts when someone taps your shoulder gently, making you look back at them. Turning your head you were faced with a muscular chest, slowly looking up a tattooed neck to meet beautiful hazel eyes staring back at yours.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he says, breaking eye contact for a second before continuing, “but I think you dropped this.” He raises his hand so you can see him holding your keys. Your house keys, the ones you would undoubtedly only notice were missing when you went back home and tried to open the door. That would have been the cherry on the cake after this whole day. Maybe you should see a witch to make sure it's not actually a curse, no one should experience this much bad luck.

“Thank you so much,” you almost yell as you grab them from his hand in excitement. He just saved you from having no place to sleep tonight. You notice him tensing up when your fingers brush against his hand and realize you might have made him uncomfortable. “I'm sorry,” you take a tiny step back in the crowded bar, “I would have been locked out of my apartment if you hadn't seen that. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” he said, giving you a nod and something close to a smile, before going on his way. You curse yourself again for acting so awkwardly. You hope you didn't make him feel uncomfortable, he was nice in picking up your keys and giving them back to you. He was also really cute which only made it more of a shame that you met like this. At least you didn't lose your keys, that would have seriously sucked.

Making your way to the table Viviane told you they would be at, you notice almost everyone is here. She was leaning against her boyfriend, Kallias, while they listened to whatever story Alba was telling them about. Ezio and Celia were both looking down at their phones and showing each other something while giggling like schoolgirls. As much as you love your friends, you don't know how much socializing you can handle today. You already fucked up what could have been a very simple interaction. Then again, with all of them here you know Viv won't try to ask you about Eleanor so at least you can keep avoiding hard topics. Viv greets you with a grin as soon as she sees you, everyone following right after.

“Hey, thought you weren't coming after all.” Yeah, you almost forgot about that. You smile anyway, knowing she didn't mean to remind you of how much of a bad friend you've been lately.

“Sorry, guys,” you sit down in the empty chair next to Alba before continuing, “Class ran late and then I lost my bus.”

“Oh. Bad luck.” You have no idea, Kallias. Conversation picked back up after that and you let them do most of the talking, taking a back seat and just watching them. You're glad that they either noticed you weren't in a talking mood or just didn't realize you were mostly quiet anyway.

You have no new stories to tell them since you've barely been functioning outside of school and talking about your feelings is definitely a resounding no, especially at a bar, so you just let them keep up with their conversations and just nod along every once in a while.

Eventually, the DJ introduces the band playing tonight. The Night Court. Judging by the screams and the way everyone moves closer to watch, they're very popular around here and you understand part of the reason for said popularity as soon as you see them step up on stage.

“Oh, they're really good!” Viviane's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “The guitarist is Mor's cousin. You remember her, right?” You nod. Of course you do. The blonde with sparkly eyeshadow and red lips leaves a big impression, forgetting Morrigan is probably impossible.

You study the guitarist as he introduces himself and the band. He's extremely handsome, the type of handsome that would make you think he can't be human, like some kind of fairy or vampire. You can tell he's aware of this fact with every honey dipped word that comes out of his mouth, literally flirting with the whole crowd. Despite not having many physical similarities with Mor, that allure he exudes definitely matches with hers.

The drummer was already sitting in place, looking eager to play. It takes you a second to notice he was in fact already sitting down as he's probably one of the tallest men you've ever seen in real life. But, with the messy shoulder length hair and big boyish grin on his face, he doesn't look scary at all.

As your eyes travel to the bassist, half hidden in the shadows, you wonder why you didn't recognize him immediately. It was the same guy that helped you before. You had thought he was beautiful before but, considering the situation, you didn't have much time to linger on that fact. However now that he was standing on stage, you could fully appreciate it. He was tall - this much you knew since you were at head level with his chest - and by the way his arms strained against his black t-shirt as he picked up his bass, you could tell he was fit too. He was looking down at the bass in his hands, making the few lights that caught him cast an ethereal glow on his face and on his onyx hair. This man looks like he stepped right down heaven's gates.

They start playing what you think is an original song but can't be sure since you were too distracted checking their bassist out to hear what Mor's cousin had said. He does have a really good singing voice but as your mystery angel starts singing, you can't help but feel bewitched back to watching him.

You barely take your eyes off him during the whole performance but they're all undeniably good. It's easy to understand why this bar is so popular if this is the level of talent their bands have. You can definitely imagine them making it big. They all seem very comfortable and content on stage and the crowd can't get enough of them.

You're so distracted by them that you don't even notice your head pounding anymore, or how fast time flies because, before you know it, they're saying their goodbyes to the crowd and leaving the stage.

Conversation starts back up after that, everyone is gushing about how talented and hot they are and you find yourself easily agreeing with their sentiments. But, with no distraction and the dj back playing songs you've heard a thousand times and the pressure of keeping conversation going, your headache comes back. You wait out just a little longer until you think it's an acceptable time to leave without worrying everyone too much.

“I'm sorry guys but I think I'm going to head home.” You finish the last of your drink even though it's mostly melted ice by that point and start putting your jacket on.

“Already?” You're not surprised Alba is the first to speak up. You'll never understand how this girl has so much energy, you had the same morning class as her but she's still as energetic as she was at lunchtime.

“It's still kind of early,” Viviane looks up at you with her icy eyes and you can recognize the concern in them immediately.

“It was just a busy week,” you explain with a smile on your face, hoping no one reads too much into it even though you all know that's not all. “I think I need to go sleep it off.”

“Are you going by yourself though?” Out of everyone at the table, Enzo is the worst one at hiding his emotions. You can see as clear as day that he's worried about you.

“I'll get an uber. Don't worry.” You gesture to your phone hoping they'll drop it.

“I can wait with you outside.” Kallias offers immediately, ever the responsible one. You really wanted to stay alone right now though.

“You don't have to.” You put your bag over your shoulder to add some finality to your words. “It's cold and there's going to be enough cars out at this hour, I won't be waiting for long.” It looks like he's about to say more but Viv puts a hand over his arm subtly, making him shut up. The bass of the music keeps hammering at your head so you don't linger and just say your goodbyes, waving at everyone with what you hope is a seemingly content smile, before leaving.

As soon as you step outside the pressure you feel starts slowing down. The front of the bar is still full of people so you walk a bit more to the little parking lot on this street. The air is cold but it feels amazing after being in the stuffed bar and your thoughts don't seem so overbearing when you don't have to try to act happy with your friends.

You love them to death but everything about how tonight went just proves that they've been talking about you behind your back. You know this is just them being good friends. You've been acting so differently in these last few months that even one of your professors noticed so it's only natural that they also did, but knowing everyone can tell only makes it worse.

You didn't want to make anyone worry about you. Life has just been going for your throat lately, minor inconveniences keep popping up and piling on top of what was already a pretty shitty situation. But you know once the semester ends, you'll get the chance to finally breathe and solve some of the problems you've been ignoring. And then things will hopefully get better. It just really sucks that your friendships and even school life has been affected by this.

Sitting down on top of the small wall that wrapped around the parking lot, you look up at the sky, willing your mind to let you rest for a bit. Watching the stars twinkling and your breath turn into white clouds of smoke because of the cold. You should probably get that uber and go home before any of your friends find you here, but your body doesn't want to move for some reason.

You feel someone approach you and look back down to meet familiar hazel eyes. You both stare at each other for a second longer than what would be normal, not expecting to see each other again.

“We keep running into each other,” you can hear his voice better here. You didn't notice how deep it was in the crowded bar. His singing voice is also deep but a bit softer than this.

“Yeah.” You smile. Seeing him again after how he helped you and then watching him on stage is making you a little giddy despite your somber mood. He seems a bit less unsure after you respond as well.

“Are you here alone?” He asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“No, I'm just waiting for an uber.” You hope you're not making a bad impression again. He probably hadn't seen you with your friends before either.

“Alright,” he looks over to what you assume is his car and then back to you, “I can wait here with you.”

“You don't have to. It's cold,” you start but he shakes his head before you even finish speaking, “I actually haven't called it yet.” He gives you a look of amusement and it just makes you try to explain yourself faster. “I have a headache. The cold just felt calming. I'll get it now.” Opening the app, you start searching and, just like you expected, there's a car barely 10 minutes away from you. A wave of disappointment washes over you at the thought that you won't get to talk to him for longer but you push it aside quickly, you barely know him.

“A bar probably isn't the best place to be if you have a headache,” he tilts his head slightly in what you're almost sure is concern. He's a little hard to read.

“I know but I already had told my friends I was coming so…” You shrug and change the subject, trying to allow this moment to let you forget about your earlier thoughts. “Didn't turn out too bad. There was this really good band playing today.” You can see a flush take over his cheeks and the tips of his ears and you feel incredibly proud of yourself for being the reason behind it.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he says as he dips his head slightly in thanks. You feel like this might be the best compliment you could have given him.

“You were all really good. I even forgot about my headache while I was watching you play,” you try not to sound too excited and make it weird but you want him to know how good his band is, “Do you perform here a lot?”

“Yeah,” he leans sideways against the wall next to you, “At least twice a month.” You're starting to notice that, although his face doesn't show too much emotion, his eyes are a little more expressive. His band seems to be a topic he likes talking about. You can understand why.

“Isn't that a big deal? I heard this bar is really popular nowadays, there has to be a lot of bands trying to perform here.” The blush seems to be back but it could also be because of the cold you're subjecting him to.

“We always try to do our best but we've been playing here for a long time. That helps too.”

“You know that's not it,” you point to the entrance of the bar, where some people are smoking, “The bar was packed. I don't know if that's how it always is but I'm pretty sure it was mostly people wanting to watch you perform.”

“You've never been here before?” It looks like he's getting a bit embarrassed by the praise so you let him change the subject.

You shake your head. “Need to come more often though. When are you performing again?”

“We don't always have a schedule,” he looks down at your phone in your hands then back up at you, “But I can text you the details.”

“Oh.” He wants your number. The thought makes warmth rush to your cheeks. “Alright.” You unlock your phone and hand it to him. While he's typing his number, you can't help but notice the scars on his hand. They completely cover his hands, the skin completely marred. It looks as if they were burned. You look away from them, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. He hands you your phone back and you see he saved his number under his name.

“Azriel,” you say the name out loud, tasting it in your mouth. He's watching you a little more intensely than before and you have to break eye contact to stop yourself from blushing. You quickly send him a text so he can save your number as well.

“I'll need yours too.” You give him your name and he repeats it, just as you had done. He makes it sound beautiful in his warm timbre and you can't help the flutter in your stomach. “I'll text you as soon as I find out when we're coming here next.”

“Okay.” You lock eyes and don't look away, just enjoying the moment, until you see a car pass by and realize it's yours.

You think you could have stayed there in the cold talking to him all night. You're not sure why but talking to him is effortless, it's like you've been friends for years. It just feels right and you find yourself wishing that he texts you soon with the concert information and anything else he comes up with. You wouldn't need much of an excuse to talk to him.

“That's my ride,” You say as you hop down from the wall. He looks at the car and when his eyes meet yours again you think you can see a hint of disappointment, hopefully at having to cut the moment short. “Thank you for waiting with me,” you smile at him again, “You didn't have to do that.”

“No problem.” He gives you a smile too, the biggest one you've seen on him. “I'll see you next time.”

“Of course.” You'd be an idiot to not want to see him again. You linger for as long as you can, suddenly not feeling like going home at all.

You wave at him again before getting in the car and something beats faster in your chest when he waves back and watches the car speed off down the street, it's almost like your heart is telling you to stay with him. You're not exactly sure what just happened but you hope you don't regret not staying with him for the rest of the night.

You keep thinking about him during the whole car ride and he's the last thing on your mind when you're laying down to sleep. And when he texts you the next day you know you'll have many more opportunities to spend the night talking to him.

[seekinghelp-adhd]

Chance Encounters (Maribat idea I'm throwing around)

Marinette moves to Gotham to pursue fashion. She has to finish her last year of high school at Gotham Academy and do an internship over the summer, but if she does she gets a massive scholarship to Gotham University. They were more than happy to help out Jagged Stone's famously young personal designer. Obviously, this puts her in classes with Damien Wayne, who barely talks and only ever calls his brothers by their last names.

Jagged insists on setting her up in a penthouse for her stay in Gotham, but Marinette argues that being a single girl living in a fancy penthouse is like asking one of the Gotham rogues to kidnap or rob her. They compromise on a nice apartment with a state of the art security system, one owned by Wayne Enterprises. Another tenant on her same floor, Jason Todd, stops by to scope out the new neighbor. He seems nice enough, but he keeps calling his older brother "Dick" and Marinette can't tell if that's his name or just an insult. Apparently he does this whenever someone new moves in to see if he’ll have to move. Marinette tells him to let her know if he does, Because she says if he doesn’t feel safe living in this building anymore, she definitely wants to leave. Jason is amused by this and decides she can stay.

It doesn't take long for Marinette to encounter Gotham's bad side. After a few months of living there she's seen plenty of rogue attacks. She's been lucky enough to stay out of it. After all, if the villains aren't magical there's nothing her Miraculous Cure could do anyway. Her luck is apparently starting to run out though, because now she's being held up at knife point in an alley. She obviously takes the guy down after years of being Ladybug and calls the cops. Dick Greyson is the officer on scene. He's incredibly friendly and is super impressed that she managed to take the guy down, but Dick has seen corrupt cops take people in for self-defense if it means someone else owes them a favor. He gives her his personal cell in case anything like this ever happens again.

Through all of this, Marinette has been spending more and more time with Damien at school. Marinette is hesitant to trust all the smiles and niceties around her after Lila's manipulation and wants to truly get to know someone before she puts any trust in them. Damien is the only exception. She was warned of his reputation as the "Ice Prince" of GA before meeting him and found talking with him to be incredibly refreshing. There was absolutely nothing fake or over the top about him. He was straightforward and down to earth and Marinette found comfort in that. She decided that she trusted him on day one. Likewise, Damien finds her skeptical attitude toward the other students to be incredibly validating. Growing up in the League, everyone was always pretending, even to the other assassins. You had to act a certain way around the right people, and manipulation was the key to survival. Marinette seems to notice people trying to take advantage of her and recognize when someone just wants a favor, and he respects that. Regretfully, and to Jon's great joy, Damien finds that he thinks of her as a friend.

Word eventually gets out that Marinette is Jagged's designer. This is, of course, entirely Jagged's fault. Some good comes out of all the extra attention, though, when she learns that the co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises is a fan of hers. He makes a commission for a new suit and, upon learning of her situation, offers her a position as his families personal designer over the summer to meet her internship qualifications for GU. They set up a meeting in person for her to take measurements once her midterms are over.

When everything is going well though, something has to throw a wrench into things. The Batfamily raids one of Black Mask's warehouses late one night, and Red Hood takes a few too many bullets and a pretty big hit to the head. The kevlar took most of the hits for him, but he's badly bruised and nursing a concussion. It's the concussion that causes him to stumble into the wrong window of his apartment building and scare his new neighbor half to death. Marinette does what she always does and helps the vigilante without question. To do that though, she has to take off his helmet. She assumed he would have a mask underneath or something. He does not. Marinette is not as surprised as she probably should be, and Jason is pissed when he wakes up. He realizes after a while that this isn't her fault. She's been taking care of him since he was too stubborn to go to Bruce, and if she wanted him or his family dead she could have done something about it by now. He decides to put a little trust in her, but keeps an eye on her just in case. This is what clues him into the situation. In her time here in Gotham, she's managed to meet all of the Wayne brothers aside from Duke, and she has no idea they're even related.

Jason, of course, finds this absolutely hilarious and wants to see just how far this madness can go. He sends Duke to her favorite coffee shop. He refers Marinette to the same dance studio as Cass. Marinette, completely on her own to Jason's disbelief, enters the same Ultimate Mecha Strike tournament as Stephanie and absolutely destroys her. Jason lives for the chaos and Marinette is completely oblivious.

Eventually, after a few AO3 tags (slow burn, feelings realization) Marinette and Damien start dating. Damien feels guilty for hiding that he's Robin from Marinette, but he knows that he'd be sharing more than just his own secret and doesn't want to betray his family's trust. He realizes that if he wants to share everything with her, his family has to trust her as well. She'll have to meet them. He tells Marinette all of this, and she shares that she's been keeping her own secret as well. Marinette hasn't told him about Ladybug even after Tikki has given her blessing, and she's been feeling guilty about it as well. She encourages him to tell her whenever he feels ready and assures him that she can wait until then. She trusts him, and she asks for that same trust in return.

Damien trusts her of course, and everything goes back to normal for about 30 seconds. Then, Damien starts trying to prepare her for the chaos she's about to find in his dining room that night. Little by little, Marinette starts to realize that she already knows every single person he's talking about. Only, that means so much more than she could have realized, because if Jason is Red Hood and his brother "the Dick" is Nightwing, then that means Dick Greyson is Nightwing and Damien's older brother, which makes Damien Robin, and oh no she thinks she knows exactly what that secret is that he didn't want to share yet.

[fuctacles]

<<4 | 5 | 6>>

Eddie held back and was nice enough to give him an ice pack after. 

"Thank you," Steve murmurs, placing the frozen peas on his chin. He's not taking his eyes off Eddie, who's wired up and walking back and forth in the tiny kitchen. Steve is low-key expecting another hit. If he had his tail, it would be tucked between his legs. 

"Why?" Eddie finally asks, the first thing he says since the punch. But before he can get an answer, he follows with: "Does everyone else know?"

"Yes," Steve admits guiltily. "I didn't want to drop it on you right after the Upside Down, but the longer it took, the weirder it got, and I just..." he trails off with half a shrug. 

Eddie scoffs, sending him a glare while his strides pick up speed. It would look ridiculous, since it takes only three of his steps to walk through the kitchen, if it wasn't so serious. 

"You made it weirder alright. Why did you follow me around instead of hanging out like a normal human being?!" He throws his arms wildly around, almost hitting the fridge. "Or did you just want to keep tabs on me? Like a weird little dog-stalker?!"

"No!" Steve protests indignantly, but then falters. "Well, I— Kind of? But just to, you know, protect you."

Eddie finally stops. Which is not a good sign as far as Steve is concerned, but Eddie just stares at him. 

He recounts the run-ins they had with the local righteous mob. He reimagines them with Steve by his side instead, the human one, and there's no universe in which it doesn't end up with an escalation. People don't normally pick up fights with dogs, apparently. But...

"Was sleeping on my couch and eating my hot dogs also to protect me?"

Steve folds in on himself and Eddie can almost imagine his sad dog ears flopping down. 

"No, I just—"

Eddie's suddenly in his line of vision, squatting in front of him to peer into his face mockingly.

"Was it just for fun? Little doggy wanted belly rubs and treats? Make everyone look at me weird because I'm scratching Steve Harrington between his ears?" he scoffs. "And dude, I would do all of it, if I knew it was you. You were worried it would be too much for me after Vecna? I'm a nerd! I eat that shit up. Do you know how much better I'd feel knowing werewolves are real?!"

Steve is not even surprised at his outburst. He just shuffles his legs and corrects softly:

"Lykans."

Eddie jumps up, throwing his hands into the air.

"Oh, now you're gonna tell me?! You lost your naming privileges, man, you're a werewolf, period."

He leans against the cupboards behind him, foot tapping restlessly. But he was angry at so many things at once, that he didn't know what to grasp first.

"Why did you avoid me?"

"I didn't—"

"You did," Eddie interrupts him. "I never saw you around, only the dog. And then you started avoiding everyone else too. Why?"

Steve sighs, slipping the half-thawed pack of peas away from his face. His body slumps like any traces of fight have just left him.

"I guess it was easier. I could just walk around, keep an eye on everyone, and not... explain myself."

"Can't lie without vocal chords, huh?"

Steve sends him a tired look, and Eddie feels the tiniest of bits bad. He raises his hands placatingly. 

"I'm not your therapist. But I thought I was your friend."

"You are! Just..."

"Just not good enough to share the truth with?" Eddie offers.

Steve groans, this time unfolding to fall against the chair's backrest. 

"See, this is why I prefer shifting. I don't have to explain my thoughts to others, nothing is weird and unspoken, and everyone fucking loves me. They pet me and tell me nice things. But when I'm a human, I'm getting laughed at, dumped, used for rides, and have to stay alone in a big empty house."

Eddie just blinks at him, his anger slowly shifting into concern. 

"That's uh, a lot to unpack there," he says gently, pursing his lips in thought. "You know we've been worried about you, right? That we don't see you anymore. I mean, I didn't know at the time, but the kids knew something was going on with you."

Steve scoffs.

"Yeah, they noticed when they had to go beg Nancy for rides."

"Dude." Eddie frowns at him, both irritated and concerned. "I am so tempted to get your other cheek right now. Didn't Dustin call you to clear the air between us?"

"Yes, because you called him first," Steve reminds him. 

"Still, he could have left it for us to deal with on our own. But he cares, so he reached out. " Eddie sighs. "He wants us to be friends, but most of all, he wants you to open up; not to me, but to the rest of the party. So why are you holing yourself up, man? What's wrong?"

Steve doesn't move from his semi-open position, but he crosses his arms, and he's looking away at Wayne's cap collection, visible through the open space to his right. 

Eddie just looks at him, the worry in his stomach growing like a parasite. He decides that maybe this is enough for today. Enough feelings, talking, and confessions. That it is time to clear the air.

And by 'clear' he means 'cloud it with smoke'.

"Let's put a pin on that," he says and finally, Steve looks back at him, both worried and curious. "I think we both need to chill out and I still have that weed stored away for you. And a really bad horror from Gareth. The blood looks like ketchup, you're gonna love it."

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86

[nanenna]

Today I remembered that my favorite thing about having so many AUs is to pick up 2 AUs like Barbie dolls and clack their faces together while making smooching noises.

Behold my beloved DCxDP AU amalgamation monster: DeamonTwinAU and PhantomThiefAU (aka: Selina gives Danny a slutty slutty cat suit, good times)

The story vaguely goeth thusly: Danny is a halfa, the Balance, the Bridge Between Worlds, he is....... the Observants' glorified gofer. You see, there are a lot of cursed/enchanted/ghostly artefacts floating around loose in the living Realm and they need Danny to go retrieve them. Danny would rather not, but they just won't leave him alone about it. Can't a guy just live? At least let him poop in peace! Ancients! Fine, he'll do it if it'll get them to shut up. (Spoiler: it does, in fact, not get them to shut up.)

But you see, Danny has a secret: he was raised in an assassin ninja cult (at least for the early years) before getting adopted by the Fentons. Now the killing? Not a fan, no thanks, he's working on not increasing his kill count, thx. But the sneaking? He could use that. Sneaky ninjas are also good thieves, right? So he cobbles together a knock off League of Assassins outfit, buys a cheap portable lock picking set, and decides to make a game of how far can he get without using his powers (much. He's new at this okay?)

Batman is not having fun. There's some (possible?) League assassin running around stealing verified cursed/magical artefacts! Is Talia planning something? Is Ra's planning something? (Isn't he for real dead? Silly reader, no one is ever for real dead in DC.)

Robin is super frustrated. For all the same reasons Batman is but also because he just knows this new rogue is taunting him. Personally. Because he's Damian al Ghul Wayne and the whole world revolves around him, obviously. (And also because he once pointed at Robin and laughed before jumping out a window.)

Selina is intrigued. Who is this kid? How does he know what to go after? How does he keep evading the bats? Luckily she runs into him mid heist (fortunately they had different targets, she's intrigued but not enough to hand over her shinies to him) and oh he's adorable! She has to train him, it would drive Brucie up the wall. But then she sees his face and oh, she knows exactly who he is, even if he seems oblivious.

Because Danny? He's in Gotham for the ecto, for the Thomas Wayne full ride scholarship he managed to snag, and also because for some reason Gotham is full of so many cursed/ghost artefacts. (Lady Gotham is seething, she worked hard to collect all those curses! But this is her beloved dark knight's kid and she kinda wants him home. But she also doesn't want to give up her curses!) Back to the point: Danny doesn't care about ANY of the rich bougie people. The Waynes give out a lot of scholarships? Cool, that's nice and all. They probably also rub elbows with Vlad or Sam's parents. No thanks. Doesn't care. He's got better things to worry about.

Selina has got a plan though! She's gonna teach this boy how to thief properly, starting with better tools (including the slutty, slutty cat burglar outfit). She also knows that she can't let any of the Waynes (in or out of costume) meet Danny (out of costume). So does Lady Gotham. So does the universe apparently (or just Clockwork maybe), because all kinds of unlikely things keep happening to prevent it.

Danny is having so much fun though! He's learning new skills. Selina is giving him an allowance so he's not living off ramen and peanut butter sandwiches, he's doing well in school, he gets to stretch his ghost powers regularly to go above the smog cover and star gaze in peace. Everything's coming up Danny.

Selina decides it's time to flaunt her find in front of Brucie and makes Danny go to a gala as her date, she spends the entire time clinging to his arm and introducing him around to everyone. Including Bruce himself (who just so happens to have Damian in tow). Danny may not recognize Bruce, but he sure recognizes Damian, and Damian recognizes him if his utterly flabbergasted face is anything to go by. But Danny remembers what it was like living in the League. And so far as he knows Damian is still in it, he was the Demon Head's heir after all. Damian made sure of it.

Oh it. Is. ON! Now Danny is on a mission! A sibling rivalry mission! He is going to make Damian's/Robin's a living hell. Selina going on a heist that has no magical artefacts? Danny's there anyway, always have back up. That necklace in the museum has barely any powers and he wasn't even going to bother with it? Too bad, it's back on the list. He has no reason to be out at all but the bats are on patrol? Well so is Danny. Catch him if you can, suckers!

It's good for Danny, it's enrichment!

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 009 ] flowers on vines.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. mildly suggestive content, implication of size kink. word count. 3k

　　　　　　　　chapter viii // chapter ix // chapter x

With a week left for the project, thirteen out of the fourteen had come and gone with the snap of a finger. You were aware time seemed to go so fast because of the person you were partnered with. Wooyoung had a way of getting the most stubborn of people to have the most fun. Meeting with him—and his friends, or, you supposed, your friends—nearly every day a week for months, it wasn’t a surprise that it went by so quickly.

You worked very well together, a shock to you initially but after getting so close to him it made sense. Not to mention how close you’ve gotten to his friends, who you now also considered some of your own best friends and loved. Not that you loved them, but you thought they were cool and fun and nice and unbelievably handsome and-

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a knock on your studio door that cut through the music playing from your bluetooth speaker. Well, “studio” was a bit of an exaggeration.

When you and Sangmi first moved into this apartment, it became apparent to the two of you that there was an extra room. Of course, knowing that she was a dance student and probably practised for the majority of the day, you let her have the extra room but she quickly shot you down and told you to use it for your art instead. It wasn’t spacious enough to be a dance studio, anyway.

There was space for your assortment of shelves and easels, a long table stretched the length of the wall under the single window in the room, paint tubes, brushes and palette knives scattered all over the surface and various filled sketchbooks, new and scrapped canvases crammed just below the table on the equally long shelf.

You set a small couch next to the door, the wall behind it decorated with several of your paintings you favoured over the others. Sometimes, while you were working, you let Sangmi sit on the couch and relax, either watching you or doing something of her own as you enjoyed each other’s presence.

You set your paintbrush down next to your palette on the table and wiped your paint stained hands on a cloth before opening the door.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the dance studio for a few hours.” Sangmi told you as you stepped aside to let her in. She looked at the painting of Wooyoung you were working on, the reference picture a screenshot of the dance video he filmed, taped to the top part of the easel. “Oh, it’s coming along so well!”

Over the past weeks she’s been checking on you and your progress, reminding you to eat whenever you get too carried away with painting. She’s seen all the stages and all the discarded versions of the painting, as well as all your frustration when you couldn’t get things to look quite right.

The canvas was fairly large, a magnificent oil painting of Wooyoung finally living up to your visions on the fabric—so you figured there wouldn’t be a need for smaller paintings as well. The dance was a contemporary one, choreographed to a song that made use of traditional instruments and performed on the stage of the university’s auditorium. The part you chose to paint was an almost breathtaking point of the choreography where he switched from sharp movements to an almost trance-like slowness, looking up with one hand elegantly reaching upwards. There was no denying his talent. 

The lighting from the stage’s spotlight was already dramatic, but you tweaked it on your canvas, adding more contrast and a soft glow to his illuminated features to create a more jarring effect. He looked ethereal with the way you painted him.

A couple minutes later, Sangmi left and you could continue painting in peace. Well, until the doorbell rang, at least. With a groan, you set your paintbrush down and walked into the hall to see who you needed to buzz in. As soon as you saw who was waiting outside the building, your eyes lit up and you wasted no time in hitting the button to unlock the door.

You practically ran to the bathroom to wash the paint off your fingers. By the time he arrived at your door, you already cleaned yourself up a bit and made a bit of an effort to sort out your messy hair. With a deep breath, you opened the door and practically threw yourself on him.

“Gosh, I thought I’d never see you again!” You pretended to cry into his chest as your embraced him tightly.

But Yunho only chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

You were only half joking. With you focused on your painting and him having to attend shootings and rehearsals for the end of year movie of the acting students, you hadn’t seen each other in a while. Each of the artistic majors had some kind of collaborative showcase near the end of the year; this year art majors and dancers worked together, the film majors worked with the actors, and the music majors worked with the theatre students. For that reason, you couldn’t find a lot of time to see half of the boys in general. 

“That’s an ironic thing to say for an actor.” You stepped away from him with a giddy laugh, noticing the bags in his hand and pointing at them. “What’s that?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Yunho smiled and walked past you to set the bags on the small breakfast table between the kitchen and living area. “I brought food. I didn’t know what you wanted,” he began taking different containers out of the bags, “so I got a variety—some soups, tteokbokki, fried chicken, japchae, gimbap and, of course, rice.”

“Thank you so much, but really didn’t have to get all this-“

He cut you off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, I want to treat you to some delicious food.”

After a moment of you biting your lips with uncertainty, you nodded gratefully and moved to the kitchen to grab utensils and bowls. 

The two of you conversed comfortably as you stuffed yourselves full with the food he brought. You asked about the movie but he’d only give you answers so vague he may not have said anything at all; “What is it about?” “Well, you know, characters and stuff.” “Yunho, please!” “Ok, ok, fine… it’s a romance and involves characters.”

Though you didn’t really notice it, he paid a lot of attention to you. Whether you were talking or just eating, he was constantly taking notes in his mind. When you briefly mentioned a movie you liked, he later reminded himself to watch it when he had the time. Or when your eyes gave a slightly different reaction to a particular dish that showed you enjoyed it, he later reminded himself to make sure to order that dish next time he brings you food. Even when he was the one talking, he was so focused on the warmth in your face as you listened to him that he nearly lost his train of thought several times.

You told him about the progress of your painting, but adamantly refused to show it to him even when he begged so prettily. However, he quickly quelled his curiosity as you said something about wanting to surprise him and the rest of the guys. Something unfamiliar in his chest clenched when you giggled at his pout, reaching your hand over to pat his forearm.

“But I want to see your paintings!” He huffed jokingly, making you laugh again.

“I can just paint something for you out here.”

He seemed to be considering the offer for a while and then his pout disappeared, his eyes lighting up even though there was a darker glint in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. A smirk spread across his face.

“What if… you paint me?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ve thought about using you as a reference so-”

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” he let out a mischievous little chuckle that twisted your stomach, “I mean, what if you paint on me?”

“O-oh…” Mildly surprised by the request, you blinked. “Are you, um… are you sure you’d want that?”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. “Of course I do! But if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you don’t have to.”

With a newfound determination to make him happy, you nodded and got up, telling him to stay where he was seated while you went to grab some paint. Deciding oil paints weren’t the best idea, you settled on gouache, something between watercolour and acrylic that would wash off easily. You grabbed a few clean brushes and walked out with everything in your hands.

The sight that waited for you in the living room had your breath caught in your throat. Yunho was still there, as you had asked, but he had gone to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to lay on the floor.

He was on top of the towel.

Laying face down.

Shirtless.

You were glad he wasn’t facing you, otherwise he would’ve seen the way you had to turn around to pull yourself together. There was no denying how well-built Yunho’s body was—or any of their bodies, in fact—but seeing it so bare, despite only seeing his back, did things to you. For the sake of the friendship, you swallowed down the nervousness bubbling inside you and turned back around, grabbing a cup of water and a small towel from the kitchen before walking to where he laid himself down and kneeling next to his body.

You set your supplies next to you and took a breath. He sensed you next to him and turned his head to look at you sideways.

“Something wrong, tiny?”

The nickname only added into that static feeling of nervousness but you still shook your head, beginning to dip one of the brushes in water. “Everything’s fine, just relax, please.”

Yunho nodded and sighed softly, turning his head to the other side and closing his eyes. As you inspected your colour palette, you took a moment to think of what to paint on him. What would he like?

Finally, you decided to just let your hands take over instead of thinking about it too carefully. Knowing him, he’d be happy no matter what you decided to draw. Holding your breath, you let the brush lathered with paint touch his skin. There was no mistaking the way the hair at the nape of his neck stood up with goosebumps as he shivered ever so slightly. You briefly apologised about the paint being cold, but he didn’t mind at all. 

You drew a wavy, thin, sage green line from his left shoulder diagonally down to the left side of his waist, watching as the damp bristles glided over his muscles. They weren’t as defined as an athlete’s, but they were there, soft indications of his fitness.

As you let your mind and paintbrush wander, you found yourself turning that line into a vine of flowers and leaves. The style was almost impressionistic, barely abstract and precise smudges of colours that resembled plants you didn’t know the names of. With each stroke of the brush and twitch of his muscles, your shoulder relaxed and you let yourself bask in the moment just as he was.

Soon enough, you were happy with your creation and sat back to inspect it. Feeling the absence of your brushstrokes, Yunho turned his head to look at you again.

“Done?”

You tilted your head one way and then the other, looking at it from different angles before nodding with satisfaction. He gave you a toothy smile.

“Do you wanna do the front too, tiny?”

“Sure- wait, what?” Your eyes snapped to his, his question making your face feel warm. Painting on his naked front torso seemed considerably more… intimate than painting on the plane of his back.

“Yeah, like, paint on the front? Maybe you can connect the designs.”

And so you found yourself painting a similar vine on his chest after he laid himself on his back—of course, he had waited until you told him the paint was dry in fear of ruining your hard work. This vine started from his waist where the vine on his back ended and creeped up to his neck, disappearing behind his ear.

Throughout the process, you had to keep reminding yourself not to let your hands indulge in a few caresses of his porcelain skin, gaslighting yourself into believing he was just a canvas. But the way he was looking at you didn’t help much.

His eyes almost looked glossy as the reflection of the ceiling lamp’s light danced in them, looking at you with something you could only compare to adoration. You didn’t hate it at all, but you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

You also weren’t sure how you ended up in this position. At some point you must’ve been so focused, you didn’t notice him move you to sit on his upper thighs. Straddling him. But you didn’t want to make things awkward and move off him (not to mention that you greatly liked this position), so you stayed and continued your work from on top of him. You desperately tried to ignore the size difference that seemed so much more obvious when you were on him like this while he, on the contrary, revelled in it.

And at first you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your rib cage. But the erratic beating soothed itself; it calmed down quickly when it came to terms with the fact that you were safe in his vicinity. He was safe.

Painting his front was similar to his back, his muscles twitching every time you brushed over them with paint. Now that you were seeing him like this, you nearly asked him never to put on a shirt again. 

You found yourself adding details that were ultimately meaningless and would most definitely go unnoticed, but you weren’t quite ready to move away from him. Not when he was looking at you with such round, tender eyes.

“Can I take a picture of this?”

His voice seemed slightly deeper than usual, perhaps because he hadn’t used it in a while. His question briefly caught you off guard, but you realised that it was kind of cute, really. So you nodded without lifting your eyes from the area you were painting just next to his abs.

Yunho’s hand reached over to the coffee table and he slid his phone off the surface. First he took a picture from his own point of view, looking down his chest to see one of your hands painting gorgeous flowers while your other one rested on his free hand’s forearm, the way you straddled him so perfectly just further down the shot.

The next picture he took was a landscape oriented photo, his hand outstretched to the side. This shot depicted the scene from the side, both of your smiling faces in the picture, as well as the bend of your arm as you painted near his neck and the soft arch of your back as you leaned over him ever so slightly. The way his free hand’s fingers rubbed and tapped their way up your thighs until they reached your waist went unnoticed by the camera.

While you were very focused on painting, you did eventually relax enough to let your own free hand explore his torso. With one hand focused on refining the flowers, the other glided over wherever the paint wasn’t touching, following the dips and rises of his body. It wasn’t until you accidentally passed your thumb over one of his nipples that he made an effort to stop you.

When it happened, he let out a shaky breath that seemed somewhat like a silent whimper, he raised a hand to close around your wrist and lifted it away from his chest. After he muttered a “tiny, please” you nodded and relaxed your hand in his grip, face flushing out of embarrassment.

Instead of dropping your hand, he repositioned his hold on it to cradle it gently, pulling it to his face and consequently pulling you further up his lap. You gaped at him as he pressed an electric kiss to your knuckles. But he didn’t stop there; he flexed your wrist to present your palm to him, his eyes never breaking contact with yours until his kisses trailed to your wrist. His lips lingered over your pulse point and you watched as his eyes fluttered shut.

It was impossible to deny the dark tint appearing on your cheeks, but you were glad to see he looked just as affected. Pink blush adorned his soft cheeks, his eyes seeming slightly dazed when he finally dropped your hand and looked up to you.

It wasn’t long after that that the paint fully dried and he had to leave, voice hoarse as he explained that he had an early shooting the next day and should probably go rest. After helping you clean up, Yunho pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, barely missing the corner of your lips, and took off into the night.

If you collapsed onto the couch and squealed into a pillow as soon as he was gone, that was nobody’s business but yours.

And if as soon as he got home, he practically ripped off his shirt and gushed to his brothers about how small and pretty you looked when you were on top of him—foregoing showing the pictures because those were for him and only him—that was also nobody's business but his either.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter <33. as you can see, you and yunho are quite… close 🤭 i honestly had so much fun writing this, possibly too much- but anyways, i hope you enjoyed it!! also, don’t worry, i did not forget about that little yeosang moment from the previous chapter, it will most definitely be brought up~~

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ network ... @cromernet @blankjournal

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @pocketjoong @moonsangie @sarahleighflora @kiss-hwa @kyukyustar @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @seongfury @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @brxken0rex @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @moonminji @lilactangerine @lelaleleb ​​@asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose @stayteezdreams @diorwoo @yunho0o0o0o @majestickitty @shookykookie30 @0325tiny

[blushweddinggowns]

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

[atsumwah]

about time

featuring : iwaizumi hajime

includes : you being oikawa's sister, brothers best friend trope, a teeny tiny mention of drinking, and you and makki being besties

notes : i legit put iwa and bo in the wheel name spinning thing bcs i was too indecisive to pick and iwa won three in a row....the universe apparently sided with this hunk 2day ! ignore the mistakes if you find any, i’ll fix em laterzzz :)))

being oikawa's sister had its perks.

you're instantly popular, you have boys queuing up to get your number, every girl in the school was nice to you ( though they only wanted to get closer to your brother but you didn't care honestly) so really there wasn't anything you can complain about.

except that you have the biggest crush on your brother's best friend.

it's not that he's just hot, like insanely godly hot, he's also really nice. all the years you've known iwaizumi, there wasn't a moment where he wasn't a gentleman to you, despite being together for so long people might mistake you three as siblings.

like when you were five and fell on your knees, he was the one who ran to get the first aid kit (damn your brother he did nothing but laugh, the audacity)

or when you were thirteen when you were scared to walk alone after school without oikawa because he was sick and iwaizumi offered himself up despite having his classes end way earlier than you (and continues to do so when your brother couldn't accompany you)

or when you were 21, drunk off your ass at a bar and having him pick you up, knowing that his campus was literally halfway across town but still came when he heard you sobbing at the other end of the phone.

the little things he does makes your heart flutter, toes curl and mind only filled with thoughts of him. he's the reason why your standards in men are so high and you aren't going to settle less than any of that. you weren't going to settle if it wasn't him.

even so, you're pretty sure he doesn't see you in the same light. again, you've known each other for years, you basically grew up together, so you're pretty sure he only sees you as his best friend annoying little sister (even worse, he's own little sister)

"why does he have to be like that, makki?" you whine, your head lulling to the right to rest on your best friend's shoulder.

"that being?" he teased, taking a sip from his drink as he eyed you from the side.

"you know, irresistibly hot." you gestured to iwaizumi who was working at the counter, "how am i supposed to move on if i see him everyday?"

"that's your own fault. you know he works here."

you did but that's not the point.

"still," you grumbled out, "thought i was being obvious enough. can't he just, i don't know,reject me?"

"honey, you and i both know he's oblivious as hell. i think you need to spell it out for him to get it."

you groaned, hitting your head against the table again.

"hey, what if i set you up with a guy? maybe you'll learn to move on." makki suggested.

it wasn't like the idea of meeting someone new hasn't crossed your mind before. it's just that, well, they're not him.

"did you miss the part where haji's literally perfect and most men aren't?"

"ahem."

"most men besides haji and you aren't."

"better." he said smugly before continuing. "what if i made sure he checks all your boxes, hmm? i know a lot of people."

"i don't know," you bit your lip, "i guess i trust you…"

"that's a dangerous thing to do, you know?"

your head whipped to the sound of his voice coming from behind you.

"i'm literally your best friend, dude."

"not by choice."

a chuckle escaped your lips at his bluntness.

"hey!"

"what are you talking about and why are you trusting makki with it?"

before you could even answer, makki did for you.

"we were talking about setting her up on a date," he said proudly.

"a date, huh?" he eyed you from the side, "thought you had all the boys lining up your feet, princess."

you're so unfair, hajime. 

"they're not that interesting, i guess." you said instead.

"good. keep your standards high. you can't trust men these days."

"you're literally a man."

"i'm different."

"ahem." makki not so subtly coughed again.

"like I said, i'm different—ow— i will literally kick you, makki."

you only smiled, never agreeing more with a statement. he was different, or maybe there was something different about the way you felt for him compared to anyone else. and as much as you wanted something more with him, you're smart enough to realize that that dream was way out of reach.

maybe going on a blind date wouldn't be the worst idea.

***

"i'm so gonna kill you!"

"what'd he do?" makki said on the other line.

"not only did he criticize what i ordered, he even took some of my food and didn't even ask for it! he said and i quote 'a pretty thing like you can't finish this, right?' you know i don't share food!"

"i’m sorry bout that honey. he seemed pretty cool when i talked to him before. he did looked excited when he saw a picture of you."

"ugh men. that's it, i'm just gonna wait for my prince charming to come."

"so no more blind dates?"

"nope." you clicked your tongue as you opened the door to your apartment. "thanks hiro, i did appreciate the thought. i'm gonna call it a night."

"alright, sleep tight honey."

you removed the phone lodged between your shoulder and ear before dropping through keys in the bowl next to the door.

"you're home early."

you let out a gasp at the sudden intruder, your heart calming down when you realize who it was. "my god, how did you come in?"

"you gave me the keys, dumbass." iwaizumi shook the spare keys in front of you, then settled himself on the countertop. "so how was your date?"

"how'd you know it was today?" you took off your coat and immediately went to the refrigerator, taking out a can of—well two cans— of something that would probably make you forget your date.

"makki's not one to keep quiet, you know."

"right. well, it's a lost cause you could say."

"that bad?"

"yup," you downed it down immediately, wincing at the aftertaste. "what're you doing here anyways? it's late."

"had to make sure you got back safe." he said nonchalantly, "your brother would've nagged me if something happened to you."

"i'm a big girl, hajime. i can take care of myself." you said, annoyed, though your beating heart says otherwise. "pretty sure he's dying for me to get someone. he's always saying how i'm repulsing men."

"we both know that's not true, princess," he says.

ugh there it is again. that stupid nickname that makes you weak in the knees for the man in front of you.

"yeah well…" you started, avoiding his eyes as you spoke, "i appreciate you coming to check up on me but i don't need another brother breathing down my back, alright?"

you expect him to shrug it off or to roll his eyes like oikawa would but instead you're confused at his next words.

"do i really give off that impression to you?"

you turned your head towards him. it almost sounded like he was hurt. "what do you mean?"

"nothing." he says almost instantly after that. "nothing, i just— forget i said anything." and with that he goes off to grab his coat hanging by the rack.

but you were curious. because the way he said it seemed like it was out of surprise. like it's the first time he realized that.

"wait," you grabbed his arm before he could go. "tell me what you mean by that?"

was it the booze that made you act this way too? yeah probably.

" 's doesn't matter. forget it, alright?" he makes a move to leave but tug his arm out. you hold on tighter.

"tell me." you say, persistently. "i’m not letting you go until you tell me. i'll jump on your back right now even."

"let go."

"for someone bigger than my brother you sure are a wimp."

"are you trying to provoke me?"

"is it working?" you said before adding, "wimp."

"it's not working."

you pouted. "it always works with tooru."

"that's because he has a huge ego." he let out a yelp when you actually fulfilled your threat by jumping on his back. "hey, get off!"

"not until you tell me!" you locked your legs around him with your arms around his neck to stay determined. "this usually works on tooru too. only it involves a lot more hair pulling." you said triumphantly, before realizing how close your face has gotten to his. apparently he noticed it too judging by how wide his eyes are and how red he looks up close.

"if i tell you, you might hate me." he whispers, words only for you to hear.

"i could never hate you." that's ridiculous. you were literally in love with him, hello?

he looked uncertain, but eventually gave in when you were still stubborn to let him go.

“...i like you, y/n."

pardon?

"if you're messing with me, i will pull your hair out." you managed to say.

"please don't. mine doesn't grow as fast as your shitty brother."

"you're…for real then?"

"yes."

"then why would you think i hate you?"

iwaizumi winced, like the next few words were gonna be painful. "you said you think of me as a brother."

"because i thought you only saw me as a sister!" you blurted out.

"what?" his big saucer eyes matching your own. "what're you saying?"

"i'm in love with you." you bit your lip and continued on. "i've been in love with you ever since i can remember."

there. it was finally out, no takesies backsies. honestly it felt good to have that in the open. it was like ripping off a bandaid, painful but at the same time, relieving.

but then panic set in when he didn't say anything for a solid minute.

you watched as his face slowly turned red till the tip of his ears and his mouth opening, closing, as if still figuring out what to say. his hands moved first, slowly taking you off of his back and turning your body so you were now hugging him from the front, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

"so… we like each other?" he says, lips unbelievably close to your own.

"apparently."

"so if i wanted to kiss you, your would say…" he trails off, eyes solely focusing on your lips.

"i'd say it's about damn time, haji." you mimicked his movements.

"about damn time," he mutters before claiming your lips with his.

about damn time indeed.

[televised-goose]

Drabbles from a valgrace fic that will hopefully be done before the heat death of the universe.

This fic is in development, so constructive criticism is totally accepted.

Prompt by the great @demigod-shenanigans

○●○●○●○●○

Jason thinks he liked to draw as a kid. He has vague memories of a secret sketch book and drawing random pieces of architecture, but just like everything else, it's blurry. He does like it, though. It's like writing, but it doesn't have to make sense. All of his emotions can leave him and be transferred into the paper. Its his own fucked up therapy. No humans needed.

He only started again when he saw Leo draw. He seemed so focused and enthused when making his schematics. It was like he fused with the paper. So he watched Leo draw a lot. Because it was nice to see him calm and the drawings were amazing. That's it. 

He ended up trying it out, and his brain seemed to remember his style even without that memory of the practice. It was like his hands were moving without him thinking of what each movement really meant. His first drawing was Leo, of course. It was only because he was right there and his best friend. 

After figuring out he could apparently draw pretty well he tried everything under the sun, even stealing one of Annabeth’s sketch books and hiding it under his bunk just like he thinks he did as a kid. The book was filled with whatever he could think of, the bow of the ship, his crewmates, fantastical landscapes and architecture, monsters, his nightmares, and even just skribbles making up how he felt. 

But most of the book was filled with Leo. He was so interesting to look at. His rugged charm and his messy appearance made him so unique to draw. He had such intense emotions, making him the caricature of every single one. Some people might think that means he has a crush, but he doesn't. His friend is simply something he enjoys looking at that's not that weird. It's not like he remembers everything he does.

(He hasn't memorized Leo's determined quirk of his brow as he sketches a curve like a compass, not the little sigh he would release when a blueprint was done, not the cross-hatching perfectly aligned and segmented showing his prowess, not his smirk whe-)

He thinks before he focused more on things instead of people, but everything about Leo needs to be documented to him. It's all so perfect that he can't forget it. 

He doesn't draw in front of anyone because it feels too personal to share. These are his true raw emotions and those stay right next to him and his heart. If people saw him draw they might see him weak and he needs to be a leader for them. This is an escape from the pressure and the pain and the fear. He knows it's dumb, and he knows no one will make fun of him, but it still scares him.

○●○●○●○●○

Was it shit? Tell me! I'm still thinking about plot, I'm think it could be a 5+1 of Jace opening up to people and finding out that drawing isn't that fucking stupid. It's really cool, I may be biased to be fair.

[starberry-cupcake]

I'm back! Thank you kindly for your patience, we're done with Act III! It was probably a terrible idea to wait because this is so long, I'm so sorry.

previously, in harrowhark! a vagrant the ninth:

this happened

also a couple previews that will show up in this but are in the tag

currently, chapters 24-31 (END OF ACT III!!!):

harrow wakes up after sleeping a sensible amount of hours in yandere twin's room

yandere twin, who's into chomping cavaliers, complains about having had some harrow soup

they have a sort of tender moment, I guess

they have a complicated dynamic

harrow falls asleep again

she's in the bed and yandere twin is sleeping on the floor

and harrow is woken by the sound of self inflicted pain and torture

harrow gets tired of this and decides to just rip yandere twin's arm off

@lady-harrowhark reminded me that I called this (!!!) in this recap

I had absolutely 100000% forgot I said that but congrats past me!!!

so, there's this scene in which harrow rips yandere twin's arm off and puts a new bone-y one in there, remade with her own parts

like this

some people have told me in the replies that it's a sessual sort of scene, and I get that, I suppose it was the vibe it was going for

total respect to that

but I'm gonna be honest here

it felt like I was witnessing a birth and harrow was the midwife

so harrow lets yandere twin know that she's been improving her necro powers via studying and practicing to try to make up for her being "lyctor lite"

harrow and alleged gideon aka ortus are the only people here that seem to be getting any work done tbh

so now, with the new arm, inner chad can use the sword again

and yandere twin is happy because she's now a proper lyctor and has senior chad aka augustine's approval

harrow is proud of herself for doing nice necro things like chopping and reconstructing arms

as a thanks, yandere twin agrees to help harrow to kill alleged gideon the first aka ortus

nobody asked you, but ok

I actually have no qualms with alleged gideon aka ortus

because he's at least direct and honest about it

everyone here has an agenda, at least this guy's like directly trying to physically kill harrow

at this point, I respect the direct approach

augustine and emperor reverend professor john can go fu—

WELL, ACTUALLY, WE'LL GET THERE LATER

CHAPTER 28

we're back at gideon-less canaan house

canaan house isn't safe in any universe, all the trails lead to death

everyone who's alive or accounted for is having a sleepover

there's a bunch of people unaccounted for, actually

the kiddos from the fourth are allegedly hidden elsewhere

who knows, at this point

I don't trust anyone

there's a fog and rain and water rising still

which reminds me of the movie identity, in which they all were trapped in that motel because it wasn't actually a motel and they weren't actually alive per-se

magnus and abby say that protozoa should have decked mayonnaise uncle

which is one of the reasons why the gideon universe is superior

aside from the presence of gideon and camilla

I miss them so much I'm gonna start biting cavaliers

anyway, where in the hell is duracell bunny nephew???

he wasn't with mayonnaise uncle when he yeeted himself

his soul, which got detached from his body in the gideon universe, is still flying like a balloon across universes and dimensions, I guess

abby didn't expect regina george twin to die, apparently, and says "if she's gone, then perhaps that means..." but doesn't elaborate

nobody ever elaborates

abby also makes harrowbean read another one of the "harrow texts"

I can't keep adding them all together in recaps because this will end up being super long but here goes the new one

"I will remember the first time you kissed me —you apologized— you said, I am sorry, destroy me as I am, but I want to kiss you before I am killed, and I said to you why, and you said, because I have only once met someone so utterly willing to burn for what they believed in, and I loved him on sight, and the first time I died I asked of him what I now ask of you. I kissed you and later I would kiss him too before I understood what you were, and all three of us lived to regret it—but when I am in heaven I will remember your mouth, and when you roast down in hell I think you will remember mine"

so yeah, we've got a triangular situation, I suppose

I need to put all of them together to continue to draw connections

my though was that this could be ice cube barbie aka annabel lee, because of the long-lost sun, but I'm unsure still

I don't think the timing fits the other side of the 3d model that's the gideon's mom and rebel leader situation

inconclusive still

abby suggests harrowbean she might be haunted

which might also fit with ice cube barbie??? maybe??? idk

CHAPTER 29

harrow says she doesn't remember shit about chad

get perpetually owned, chad

mercygirl asks harrow things about her necro process for the arm reconstructing and the last thing she asks is "what is the name of the saint of duty?" to which harrow says "ortus the first" and mercygirl goes

me and my "alleged gideon" theory are very happy about this

the hill I will die on

mercygirl continues to use onomatopoeias to express herself

I do not want to think about what that would imply in a later situation I don't want to dig into

"you read unholy omens in the way people say good morning" that's what these recaps are, thank you very much harrow

that's our tagline over here, that's our brand

"how you loathed any sentence beginning with augustine says" SAME, BESTIE

I HATE THAT MAN

he can go fu— ANYWAY

harrow and yandere twin are having sleepovers so that harrow isn't murdered in her sleep

apparently the nudes are cyrus and his cavalier and yandere twin likes that energy

they gifted them to others as souvenirs too

it's like if you had a university classmate who sent nudes to the groupchat every birthday

yandere twin says augustine the asshole has agreed to help kill alleged gideon aka ortus the first

I don't trust any of these lyctors if they're willing to kill each other this easily

how do I know they've got my back in combat if they don't have each other's backs—

I CAN'T EVEN ARTICULATE MY THOUGHTS AND NOT SOUND TERRIBLE NOW THAT I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS LATER IN THE PARTY

ANYWAY

yandere twin reminisces about not having been apart from regina george twin much in their lives and hoping she's sleeping well wherever she is

I also don't know where she is

yandere twin tells harrow that she was more farsighted than her

which I'm sure she was, but she doesn't seem to remember shit about it, and the letters remain unopened

harrow thinks it's kinda gross that the cyrus lyctor murdered his cavalier to become a lyctor and then took all of their nudes to the emperor's bolthole

none of these lyctors are operating from a place of common sense, harrow

"you were lucky that the memory of your own cavalier did not hurt you—except sometimes in the form of a sick headache in your temples, or in words stuck on repeat in your head"

so, augustine's plan involves dinner

harrow, hearing that, is like this

they look for clothes in the cavalier's things

yandere twin says "valancy trinit was my height, weighed more than both of us put together, and —judging by her portraits— had a body that did not quit"

I sure hope she's a thick girl, because I've had enough disappointment with the gideon cover not letting her have the arms she deserves

I hope valancy trinit looks kinda like this

ANYWAY, here's the makeover vibes, as previously shared

apparently chad could embroider, which I have to admit is a good quality

hate giving him any props, but I must be fair

harrow painted the less cute skull in her repertoire and we respect that

they went to augustine's room and he's still an asshat

I don't like how he treats yandere twin tbh

I feel like yandere twin has a thing with validation because of how her life has been and he uses that

augustine justifies his betrayal to his fellow lyctor saying that he "caused more pain over these last scant forty years than I dare to admit"

mercygirl is also here for the party, all dressed up

SO HERE'S THE THING

I am so embarrassed I didn't pick it up on the fly and it took me the whole chapter to put it together

augustine tells her "dios apate, minor"

at the time, I didn't remember what it meant, and when I finished reading the thing, I was like "oh, it's exactly like the deception of zeus"

I forgot that's what it was called

I mean, I got the "dios" part, obviously, but forgot the "apate"

my ancient greek professor is going to come back into my life to shoot me at my doorstep

to be fair to myself, it was a long while ago that I took ancient greek

AT LEAST I PICKED THE REFERENCE UP AFTER, OK????

god, I'm so embarrassed

palmolive, I'm so sorry, I promise I figured it out eventually

mercygirl punches augustine in the face, which is great

he insists on it being "minor", which idk where the line is there and I'm not gonna ask

idk which things are or aren't...involved in a minor form of zeus's deception

mercygirl says she's not wearing the right dress, I don't think it matters, it worked just fine

CHAPTER 30

everyone gets drunk except for alleged gideon aka ortus and harrow, because they're the only people in this group project who are doing the work

augustine and mercygirl start fighting about something their cavaliers did back in the day

they start toasting for cavaliers and talking about how "hot pyrrha was"

there is no respect for the dead in the emperor's bolthole

there's about to be something else in the emperor's bolthole in a minute though

I was excited about them drinking, though, because that's when people start spilling some truths

the lost commander of BOE is a "she", her name is/was Commander Wake, she almost killed alleged gideon aka ortus

I'm still spinning with the gideon's mom theory

and the background telenovela I've got going on

BOE found a Herald, killed it and turned it into weapons against these clowns

good for them, tbh, kill these drunk irresponsible bastards

emperor reverend professor doctor john thinks it's narcissistic of him to toast to himself

I want to murder him in cold blood

I hate this man so viscerally I want to rip him apart with my hands

the twist in this book is that I'm gonna reach to his murder and it's gonna be me

it's like bastian reading the neverending story but it's me killing this man

his full name is john gaius but I had been spoiled of his name by people not tagging their posts

he also does a "your mama" joke because he's my villain origin story

"part of your brain temporarily calcified into atheism" I'M GLAD, HARROW

so, they start to make out, all three of them

I finally caught up about zeus's deception and all about here

emperor awful is sandwiched between mercygirl on a table and augustine behind him and they forget there are children in the room

well, not children, but same difference, they're a million years old

harrow and yandere twin get the hell out of that display

CHAPTER 31

yandere twin wants to kiss harrowbean before she leaves to kill alleged gideon aka ortus, but harrow doesn't let her

harrow says "my affections lie buried in the Locked Tomb" to which yandere twin responds "Somebody might even exhume them for you"

when harrow mentioned not wanting to be touched while sleeping beside yandere twin, I remembered the pool hug and all that, that was a nice time

people were being killed left and right but it was a nice time

ANYWAY

harrow has a whole plan and has it all figured out, it's a really good plan, it works very nicely, but alleged gideon aka ortus isn't where they told her he was

sometimes, life works that way

the man you plan to kill isn't in the training room and all

she goes to look for him in not!dulcinea's crypt or whatever

and she sees this

and the spear

she follows the children's hospital trail of blood to the incinerator

alleged gideon aka ortus is inside the fire thingy and not!dulcinea is operating the controls

I wonder who could have predicted that this woman could still be an issue even after death

me, it was me

anyway, no time for I-told-you-so's because harrowbean decides to help him out of there

I'm very happy because I need him alive

he knows things and he's less bad than everyone else around here

because he's upfront about the killing

he tells her some things while he's kind of out of it

like to use blood wards instead of bone ones

that it will make her safe from "us"

"I know you're there. Kill me all you like. I would know you in the blindness of my eyes" he says and, among other things "Just tell me—back then—why you brought along the ba—"

WAS HE GONNA SAY BABY???? WHAT IF HE WANTED TO SAY BABY???

I'm still on my gideon agenda, sorry if it's embarrassing to read

of course emperor dickhead stops him before he can finish it

alleged gideon aka ortus says he doesn't remember shit afterwards and harrow sees her own mental state reflected in his

they can't find not!dulcinea, apparently

she's probably operating heavy machinery elsewhere

harrow is putting up her blood wards when she hears augustine and mercygirl argue about the whole zeus situation

the incinerator alarm apparently interrupted their plan of letting this happen

whether or not they had a hand on the not!dulcinea thing idk

mercygirl says she didn't move her

we end this act with ice cube barbie maybe annabel lee saying "The water is risen. So is the sun. We will endure."

obligatory yearning for camilla moment

That is the end of Act III and of my commentary because this was way too long and I need to make less chapters at a time istg

[vexy-hexy]

I hope this isn't a hot take, but Scott Cawthon is a shitty writer

The reason the lore makes no fucking sense is because he just randomly adds or retcons things with no explanation and, at this point, I think he just enjoys watching people (especially MatPat) go crazy theorizing

Like, the man may as well have confirmed dream theory a few years ago, only to go "wait, never mind, here’s Sister Location and everything is real, I promise"

I doubt even Scott understands his own story because it was written with the same grace and talent as an edgy middle school kid trying to write the next Jeff the Killer, so they shove everything they think is cool into the story, whether or not it fits

People say "oh, he didn't realize it would be more than (however many) games. He didn't plan that far ahead," but that excuse should only get you so far when you are writing a story

It's pretty clear that after at least game 4 (some say game 3, so I'm being nice), he stopped caring about the story and began just duct taping things he thought were interesting into a story that could've been wrapped up with MAYBE 5 games (1, 2, 3, 4, and pizzeria Sim with something in the other four to explain Baby and Molten Freddy, or get rid of them, I don't care), but instead it's a cluster fuck of weird details that DON’T MAKE SENSE

Look, I think a lot of us, myself included, can sometimes confuse a good CONCEPT with a good STORY

The storytelling of FNAF is dog shit, but the concept is just SO good, which is why people like the FNAF VHS tapes so much: these people are able to take a terrifying and interesting concept and make a truly good implied horror story with it in the way Scott NEVER could

And don't get me started on the books: First, they're not canon, then they're canon, but also, some stories may only be canon in another alternate universe or something, but if you actually want to understand something, you need to read some of the books

Your story should not have to be told across multiple different media for it to be even SLIGHTLY coherent. It's fine if you want to add in details that aren't too important to understanding the entire thing (like, we don't specifically need to know the names of each kid William killed, but it's a cool fact to know. Or maybe expand on how Freddy's and the incidents affected different people), but, as cool as it was, Golden Freddy being possessed by two children is a pretty crucial point to the rest of the series to be in just some activity book that so easily could've been overlooked as something fun to do related to FNAF (IMO)

Not to mention, we apparently can't even agree on the name of the Crying Child who, I think, was the catalyst for this entire story (because we can't even seem to agree if Elizabeth or CC died first)

TL;DR FNAF is a great concept, and it's been shown that it can make a great story by people who are much more skilled than Scott Cawthon (or maybe they just care more about this series than it's own creator, I don't fucking know)

Also, sorry if I'm incoherent or get anything wrong, I typed this while I was incredibly tired, but I did try to edit it as much as I could the past few days