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spiderhanzzz · 3 months

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"WORST REGARDS, YOUR KARMIC RETRIBUTION" — yang jeongin.

they say success is the best revenge, but sabotage feels better.

word count: 5.8k

pairings: jock!jeongin x nerd!reader

genre: fluff, humour, high school au, one sided enemies to lovers, slow burn, loosely inspired by i hope this doesn't find you by ann liang

warnings: swearing, partying, kissing, biblically accurate (religious) jeongin, everyone is the same age except chan, no use of y/n + gn reader, reader is literally evil incarnate plz dont do this irl ;;

playlist: ivy frank ocean, sexy to someone clairo, everybody talks neon trees, i can't radiohead

a/n: dedicated to @allforhee & all the other i.n stans out there :3 enjoy!!!

You know a lot of things. You know that the idea of zero was invented by an Indian mathematician and astronomer named Brahmagupta. You know how to recite your future Valedictorian speech in Latin. However besides these things, you also know that most things in life are pretty much uncertain.

Except your hatred for Yang Jeongin. That is your probability of 1.

Although your best friend Kim Seungmin says that your probability of 1 should probably be the fact that you’re a damn sore loser.

So when classes started to end and your school’s sports day rolled around, everyone knew not to cross your path. Either they would be on your team, or they wouldn’t even get near you. You’re not even that athletic; in fact, you can barely work out to save your life. But you’re the brains, the mastermind, of your team’s strategies. It’s like that saying, if you can’t beat ‘em, outsmart ‘em, or something like that.

You knew you were winning, or at least you thought you knew. Because just when you were about to cross your final lap of the track and field match, the corner of your eye caught a glimpse of Yang Jeongin’s infamously cordial grin. Disturbed by the audacity, you stop in your tracks to look at his friends sitting on the bleachers and feel a rush of satisfaction rush back in when you see them petrified for their friend’s questionable actions.

He won, of course. And though you took home five more gold medals than him that day, something about the utter disrespect of stealing the spotlight from somebody so clearly feared for a reason unsettles you.

Which is why you’re currently writing a letter to him threatening to take away his position in the basketball team if he doesn’t earn back your respect that he lost from a sports day event three years ago.

It’s less of a letter and more of a drafted email, since you’re not writing it by hand; he doesn’t get to have that sort of power over you. You’re not sending it either. God, no. You’re not that insane.

It’s simply a form of coping, nothing more. You’d reckon if you were to ask a therapist about this method, they would think it’s stellar. It’s like journaling… except instead of self-reflection, the end goal is to live in the delusional cloud where your nemesis knows and fears how much you hate them.

Do whatever your wretched soul can manage to revert back to the regular human state— that is, being absolutely petrified of my existence. Otherwise, say goodbye to that pretty “varsity basketball” title you adore so much.

A smirk twists upon the edges of your lips as your gaze fixes on the words you’ve just typed out. What’s the word for when you gain pleasure from the idea of torturing somebody else? You’re sure ‘sadist’ doesn’t apply when you only crave the suffering of one specific person.

You consider rewriting the entire letter on paper, for the sole purpose of leaving a crimson lipstick stain on the envelope for him to unseal. You don’t even use red lipstick, but perhaps the Irene Adler-ness of it all might subconsciously trigger a flight or fight response from him, as most stupid teenage boys do when faced with distinct power.

When other people fall asleep to daydreams about their crushes, you often drift away to slumber through the relaxation brought upon you from fantasizing about Yang Jeongin on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.

You would have fallen asleep to that dream for yet another night, but your best friend Kim Seungmin rang your phone. Now, if it was any other night, you would have sent him death threats and went back to your fantasies. However you had just asked Seungmin for a very special favor, so you decide to pick up.

“This better be about what I think it is,” you start. “I won’t put up with your post-exam depression bullshit tonight.”

“Don’t worry about that, I managed to get extra credits for everything.” Thuds and crackles fill the audio from the other side of the phone, and you can practically smell Seungmin’s bag of chips and old dusty laptop opening on his desk. “I got what you asked for.”

“Good, just forward it to my email.”

“I don’t understand why you would need it, though,” Seungmin’s voice is muffled by the chips in his mouth. “I mean, the team’s orders at Lucy’s Diner? Seriously? If you had a crush on one of them, you know I could just set you up, right?”

“Ew, I would never!” You fake gag, earning a chuckle from the boy on the other line. “C’mon, you know I have too much self respect for that.” “I think you mispronounced blatant narcissism and self obsession.”

The two of you go back and forth teasing one another for another moment until you urge Seungmin to send the list to your email. He inquires once again but you only brush him off, coming up with something about helping out at Lucy’s for the summer. Which wouldn’t be a complete lie, technically, if all went well.

You know you can’t tell Seungmin about your plan. Not right now. He’s reached that stage of being a teenage boy where he started developing attachment and empathy towards others, and now he’s practically attached at the hip with the rest of the basketball team. All he knows is that you hate Jeongin, and that’s enough for now.

And sure, this whole situation has made you question if you were actually a sociopath, but it needs to be done. You consider it a fair service to the community for taking down another straight male with no brains and a huge ego. They don’t know it yet, but he’s the common enemy.

Soon enough after the sports day incident you had come to the conclusion that if nobody could hate Yang Jeongin, you would make him hate you so much until a primal, animalistic desire to destroy you would take over his spirit. You assume he’d do something so utterly terrible, as men do, then afterwards everyone would finally see with their own two eyes that he is just like every other man in this cruel world. If anything, you’re volunteering as a sacrifice!

So as you zone out on Seungmin’s newfound amusement in the way Mr Marks’ glasses make him look like Chicken Little, you switch your tabs to open the sacred document.

In big, bold letters it reads OPERATION 143: 1 ENEMY, 4 PHASES, 3 YEARS.

The document itself already has over 25 pages, written in detail about your genius ideas to slowly infiltrate your enemy base from the inside out— most worked, but some of them just ended in your loss of dignity. You had even taken ideas from books and films like Parasite to further enhance its artistic integrity. These last three years were a performance, and Jeongin’s life is your stage. You have now entered phase four, and this is your closing act; nobody can steal your spotlight.

Contrary to the precise executions of your past eras, phase four is abstract. Its main goals are to disrupt Yang Jeongin’s peace as directly as possible, whilst leaving as little trail as possible. This, paired with the built up tension from the previous phases, is going to set in motion a domino effect, leading to the collapse of your greatest enemy’s social stature.

Accidentally letting a particularly mischievous giggle slip under your breath, you look back at the email you were drafting to him. You know exactly how to end it.

Careful where you run, Yang Jeongin.

Worst regards,

your karmic retribution.

This is your least favorite time of the year: the period just before summer break. Exams are over, so most teachers let students roam free during their lessons. But not going to school at all can take away from your total attendance, which then goes on your report card, so most students spend their school days sitting around in boredom and watching the sports teams play.

seungmo: Do u wanna come to practice

seungmo: Jisung bought cheesecake for everyone and I don’t want mine

seungmo: I don’t want him to take mine tho lol

That was fifteen minutes ago, and now you’re sitting on the bleachers on a date with a delicious slice of blueberry cheesecake and iced coffee, absentmindedly watching your best friend practice. Despite your close ties with Seungmin, you’ve never really been interested in the other team members— except for the occasional trading of homework answers with Jisung. Ever since middle school, you’ve sort of established that you want nothing to do with people like them: rowdy, sporty, and popular. Seungmin once noted that you say “popular” like it’s a slur. You couldn’t disagree.

“So… Karmic retribution, huh?”

You freeze.

“Pardon?” You turn around, only to be faced with the one and only Yang Jeongin.

“Karmic retribution?” He inquires further, expecting you to get the hint. “Y’know, what you called yourself in your… email? Death threat? Not sure what to call it, actually.”

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude,” you laugh off the question. “I don’t even know your name, let alone your email.”

“Well, that’s clearly a lie, since your name is on your email address. And my name was in your… Seriously, what should I call this thing?”

Fuck fuck fuck. You must have accidentally hit ‘send’ when you fell asleep on the phone with Seungmin. That prick; he always manages to embarrass you somehow.

“Listen, I didn’t even know you go here. I had to ask Chris if he knows which one you are, and you just happened to be here right now.” Jeongin rakes his fingers through his stupid gross sweaty damp hair, then dragging his palm across his face in exasperation. “Whatever I did to you, I’m really sorry.”

“What do you mean you didn’t know I go here?” You’re baffled, truly baffled, and you basically lost control of your body when you heard those words. Suddenly your voice can be heard by anyone within a ten foot radius, and if it weren’t for that they would have thought you were about to smother him with kisses by the lack of distance between your bodies. “I’ve been here since fucking middle school! I sit behind you in Spanish— I ask you for a pen every two and a half weeks only to lose it every single time. You’re saying you don't remember me?”

“Oh, that’s you? My bad. You sit behind me, so I didn’t really get to see your face up close.” Jeongin doesn’t even flinch at the proximity of your faces. He simply gives you a brief look up and down and goes, “Now that I am seeing you up close, you’re the one that always hangs out with Seungmin, right?”

Then it hits you: this is the universe sending you a signal to initiate phase four. Sure, him not remembering who you are might have set you back by a few milestones, but who’s counting? (You are. You always are.)

If anything, you’re grateful for the redirection, because now you know that before you can ruin him, you must first build him up.

“Alright, look,” you begin, taking a step back to put some inches between the two of you. He reeks of rubber and soda, the stench makes you ill. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

“‘Kay, cool,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “See you around, I guess…?”

“Wait, that’s it? You’re not even gonna ask why I hated you in the first place?”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re already starting over.” The genuine lack of irritation in his face makes you curl your fists and fight the urge to give him a black eye. “Plus, you’re one of those nice smart kids. I don’t have beef with your kind.”

And for the first time in your life you wanted desperately to become popular, because maybe then Jeongin would take you seriously.

But it’s fine. You’re going to destroy him regardless.

“Yo, not to interrupt this whole bonding thing we have going on, but I kinda need to head back to practice.” His voice snaps you back to reality. “Is that chill with you?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s chill.” You muster up your most convincing smile for him. One time in fifth grade your drama teacher told you you’re a natural actor, and you pray to God those innate talents are still there. Now that you think about it, she may have just been calling you a liar.

For good measure, you give him an awkward thumbs up before walking away. When you make eye contact with Seungmin, he raises his eyebrow as if to ask what the fuck was that? You can only shrug in response. You have no idea either.

You sit back down on the bleachers, occasionally eyeing your target, feasting your eyes on the way his muscles flex under his baggy Radiohead t-shirt when he dribbles the ball around the court and the sweat that drips from his hair. You’re used to your own deranged behavior, but this feels almost perverse. Maybe it’s because you’re basically acquaintances with him now (the word makes you want to spit your cheesecake back up), or maybe it’s because you can’t help but let your stare linger on the cross dangling from his chain.

Gross, you think to yourself, as you keep your eyes on him for the rest of the day.

On the last day of school before summer break, the unexpected happens: the basketball team invites you to their party. Well, technically, they invited everyone. It’s supposed to be Bang Chan’s last party before he graduates, and he just so happens to be friends with every single student. Thus, you and Seungmin are now situated in front of his front door, waiting for him to welcome you in.

You don’t usually go to parties, and to be very honest nobody really expects you to. The reasoning is a bit pretentious, you suppose, but you truly just don’t believe in the necessity of rebellion in leading to better adulthood. However you do believe in yourself and your incredibly sexy intellectual prowess, and you have an operation to carry out, so tonight you let yourself let loose just a bit.

“Ah, there you guys are!” Chan greets you and Seungmin, ushering you inside his… house is an understatement, honestly, it’s a mansion. “Mingle around!”

You’re still out of place, you notice. Since you didn’t plan on actually drinking or dancing, you decided to come in your usual get-up of your dream university’s merch sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. You mentally cursed yourself for not realizing that all of Chan’s friends would be the cool, charismatic type.

Suddenly wishing you had stayed home instead, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, which was (fortunately for you) on the second floor, away from most of the crowds. When you get there, however, you’re met with Jeongin’s sharp gaze in front of the door.

“Been a while,” he states, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Could I get you anything? A drink, maybe?”

“I don’t drink. At least not tonight,” you respond. Then you notice that his hands are also empty. “What about you?”

“Nah, I don’t do that stuff.” He shakes his head to enunciate his disapproval. “I don’t mind that the other guys do it, but I’m pretty religious, so…”

The devil perched upon your shoulder whispers hot but the angel on the other side exclaims what the fuck?

“Cool.” You stare at your shoes, thinking about how to turn this exchange into yet another round of revenge. When you get an idea, you beam up at him. “Wanna walk and talk with me?”

The moment he verbalizes his agreement, you grab him by the arm and rush downstairs. There, you do as you had suggested: walk and talk. Turns out Chan’s first floor is big enough for about thirty minutes of conversation.

When you get to the outdoor pool, you take off your shoes and dip your toes in the water with Jeongin following suit, sitting right beside you. Your conversation drifts to so many different topics— music, childhood TV shows, dating— you almost forget the reason why you brought him here. He’s observant, you notice, and he has thoughts on a lot of different things, something you didn’t think was possible. You always thought he was just dumb.

“Y’know, I was kinda flattered by your email, I’m not gonna lie,” he admits sheepishly.

“Pardon?” You look at him, puzzled. “Did you say flattered?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, no one really notices me like that.”

You stare at him, eyes blank and mouth agape. Surely this guy has gone insane, right? He’s one of the school’s most beloved students, by other students and faculty members alike.

“Like, I know they like me, but I don’t really stand out amongst the others. Chris is the friendly one, Minho is the mysterious one, Changbin is the strong one, Hyunjin is the artistic one, Jisung is the funny one, Felix is the kind one, Seungmin is the smart one, and what am I? I have all those qualities too, but they pale in comparison. People don’t have enough reason to hate me, but I know they think I’m boring. So being hated so passionately was kind of a big thing for me… I’m sorry, is that weird?”

If you didn’t want to slap him before, you sure as hell do now. How blindly privileged is this guy that his problem in life is not being the coolest guy on the varsity basketball team? You puff out your cheeks to hold back an exasperated sigh, and pull out a gentle smile instead.

“Jeongin, I don’t think people see you that way at all.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Have you ever considered that maybe they might just be a bit intimidated by you?”

This is exactly how your mother talks to you when you start crying about how nobody ever has a crush on you on a random Thursday night. God bless that woman for gaslighting you into a positive attitude.

“You really think so?” He looks at you with these wide puppy-like eyes and you finally understand what the girls on Instagram mean when they talk about ‘getting the ick.’

“Really,” you affirm with a bright smile.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

Just as he pulls you into a warm embrace, you push him just subtly enough that he wouldn’t notice it until he’s falling into the pool. With a large splash, all eyes turn to the two of you. He comes up from the water, clothes and hair drenched, and you feel a sense of satisfaction wash over you when you finally see a distressed expression etch itself onto his features.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” You lie, faking your concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… I’m fine.” He climbs out of the pool, and you curse yourself for staring a little too long at his defined muscles under his wet shirt. Then, he turns to you and says, “Needed to cool off anyways.”

And he laughs. Laughs at himself and laughs at your befuddled face and laughs when Chan asks if he’s alright, shooting him a quick thumbs up before grabbing the nearest beach towel. When his other friends crowd around him, he laughs and laughs and laughs and it drives you fucking insane. The resonating sound of his laughter surrounds the backyard in an instant, and for a moment you wish you had drowned yourself in that pool instead.

“I will shove my middle fingers in your dimples,” you mutter under your breath, and you consider it a promise.

“Be right back,” he tells you before rushing to the nearest bathroom to change his clothes, playfully flicking droplets of water onto your face and ruffling your hair, dampening it.

You watch as he walks away, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest when you notice his smile faltering as people start to focus amongst themselves again. Now it’s your turn to laugh, half out of disbelief and half out of pure glee.

Everything is going according to plan.

“I didn’t push him.”

Lie.

“We were just talking.” Lie.

“I still hate him.”

Lie?

Wow, three lies in a row. And to your best friend, of all people. This Operation 143 has really tested your moral compass, and it’s not looking great for you. No wonder why Seungmin is calling you at 3 AM, interrogating you about what the hell happened tonight.

“See, now, some of those statements kind of contradict each other,” he states. “I have no doubt that you still hate him, but I also don’t doubt the pure evil in your heart. You would have pushed him, and you wouldn't even be sorry about it.”

“Uh, well, you’re wrong,” you tell him. “Clearly you don’t know me that well then.”

“Whatever you say, but if one day you decide to come clean of your crimes, you owe me something. Something very very dear to me.”

At first you were nervous, because it’s obvious your best friend is on to you (note to self: be less evil on a day to day basis). But then you remember it’s your best friend, there’s only one thing he would want from you in this situation.

“Yes, yes, I’ll take you out for a fancy dinner,” you sigh. “That’s only if I confess my sins to you, Father Seungmin, and it’s not happening because I’m completely innocent.”

“Please never call me that again.”

“Noted.”

At that, your phone buzzes with a new notification. It’s from an unknown number, but you can see a display name. Jeongin.

~Jeongin: u up?

God, could this guy act more like a fuckboy? Somehow noticing the tension in the air despite your physical distance, Seungmin questions your mood.

“Jeongin just texted me.”

“Oh, so that’s what he wanted your number for.”

“Are you dumb?” You ask, but it feels more like an accusation. “Why the fuck else would he ask for my number, idiot?”

Seungmin makes a noise equivalent to a shrug, and you let it pass. You were just about to question him further about Jeongin asking for your number, but the man himself texts once again.

~Jeongin: wanna hang tmr?

“Ew,” you mutter quietly. “I think he thinks we’re friends or something.”

“Oh, right, I remember you don’t do those.” You can almost hear his eyes rolling at your annoyance at Jeongin. He’s expressed his disapproval for your one-sided rivalry many times, but you always bite back with words too vulgar to write down here.

“Yeah, you know you’re only my close acquaintance, right?” You turn your attention back to your phone, biting your thumb in deep thought. “I’ll be mean to him. Should send the right message.”

You need to change your technique anyway. Befriending him only to be annoying is only going to make him like you more, and betraying him out of the blue takes too much commitment. This is phase four, after all— you have such little time to get the job done. If you manage to succeed during senior year, people aren’t gonna care anymore because everybody is leaving anyway.

You won’t shy away from it anymore; it’s time to be direct. It’s time to be evil.

You: no.

Seungmin sputters out a laugh once you send the screenshot of your texts to him. “You couldn’t have even given him a reason why? God, you’re crueler than I thought.”

“Why can’t he just hate me back?” You whine, slumping your shoulders defeatedly. “Why is he so… So nice? What’s wrong with him?”

“Maybe he likes you,” Seungmin teases. “I kinda see the vision, actually. The nerd and the jock… Classic perfection.”

“You mean cliché,” you groan. “His type is probably other athletes or something. Popular people date popular people, Seungmo.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin continues in a sing-song tone, so you close your ears and make weird noises, a signal that it’s time for him to shut the fuck up.

jeongin (DONT RESPOND): oh

jeongin (DONT RESPOND): ok :[

A week later you’re sitting in front of the bus station, waiting for Seungmin to arrive. He had promised to take you to the new coffee shop that just opened up to get some work done as a means to get ahead of other students. Nerdy as it may be, this is your summer ritual with your best friend, and if you didn’t fulfill it by the beginning of the summer, the guilt is going to eat you alive until you won’t be able to properly enjoy your holiday.

The summer breeze (or lack thereof) feels like it’s burning you alive, so you pull off your usual sweater to reveal a tank top underneath. Huffing out in irritation, you send a quick text to Seungmin.

You: wru

You: why take so long

You: ur so not a gentleman this is why ur single

Instead of an answer, you receive a phone call in return. You pick it up. “Yo, where are you? I’ve been waiting here for fifteen fucking minutes, dude, I’m parched.”

“I brought a friend,” said Seungmin, completely disregarding your complaints. “Look in front of you.”

And there he is, walking towards you with none other than Yang Jeongin beside him, waving at you like a stray puppy. You close your eyes, trying to pretend for as long as possible that none of it is real. This is probably what I get for trying to sabotage someone out of the basketball team, you think to yourself, deciding to surrender to your fate and greet them with as much kindness as you can muster for the time being.

After approximately thirty minutes of sitting down and discussing the next academic year’s syllabus, you decide that that was the last bit of kindness in your heart. So when Jeongin leaves to go to the restroom, you waste no time catching Seungmin up on what you’ve actually been doing. The letter, the operation— everything.

“25 pages?” Seungmin asks you in disbelief. “My god, that’s a thesis.”

“It might as well be, at this point.” You nod solemnly at his comment. There’s no use denying anything; at your core, you’re just pure cruel and sadistic. At the very least you know your best friend will love you regardless, even if nobody else will.

“Listen, I love you, truly I do. But you’ve got to stop,” Seungmin grabs your shoulders and looks you dead in the eye. He has never looked this serious before and meant it. “He’s, like, falling in love with you.”

“Pardon me?”

“I know, I know, it’s your worst nightmare, and I know you don’t like him like that, which is why I’m telling you this. Stop now or you will break his heart even more.”

Just as you were about to respond, Jeongin comes back to the table. If he hadn’t, you’re not sure what you would have had to say. Would you disagree with even the thought of it, telling Seungmin he’s a liar? Would you have argued that if your plan were to work, Jeongin would hate you in the end anyway? Or would you have asked him how to make those feelings grow?

But no, no. He doesn’t like you, not like that. He’s just kind, that’s all. He can’t.

And the next hour passes by like torture, with both boys having to snap you back to the present moment about five times each. You couldn’t care less about the syllabus or the coffee or the new inside jokes you all made that day. All you could think about was how Jeongin’s hand would brush against yours when he borrowed a pencil, or the way his eyes would lock with yours when he laughed at Seungmin’s sarcastic remarks.

The entire time, your mind was calculating the probability of Jeongin actually being in love with you. Each answer was always too close to 1 for your liking.

You couldn’t get him out of your head.

To be fair, you never could. But it used to be about hatred. You used to find joy in boring two-hour classes because you knew you could just spend those two hours daydreaming about what Jeongin would look like with real tears in his eyes, with a scowl on his lips, with anything other than that damned smile.

You told your boss you’d be taking the night shift at Lucy’s for a while, because your days would be spent hanging out with friends on the holidays. This isn’t true at all, of course, you just found it more difficult to escape those Jeongin-plagued thoughts when you were about to drift to slumber. Unfortunately, this didn’t work the way you had hoped, because it turns out the diner basically doesn’t have any customers after 8 PM.

It’s almost 10 PM now, the hour when you’ll have to close up the diner. Nobody has come inside in the last forty-five minutes, so you figure it’s best to close up early. That way, you’ll get more time to scroll on your phone or read a book.

You should have seen it coming, really. You know you could never escape him. There, standing in front of the doors of Lucy’s diner, is your haunting, your shadow, your karmic retribution.

“I keep thinking about you,” he says, almost breathless, as he steps into the diner.

“How long have you been standing there?” “Like, five seconds,” he answers. Then, as if to emphasize his previous statement, he says, “You owe me sleep.”

“You don’t think that goes both ways?” You turn away from him, placing all the cleaning supplies on the bar counter. When you look back, he’s already eagerly striding towards you.

“What are you saying? That you want me?”

“I… I don’t know,” you mutter. You can’t look at him, not right now, not like this. You would break not just his heart, but yours as well. “I don’t know how I feel. I need a… an experiment or an investigation or something that I know is going to tell me if this is actually real, because I have no fucking clue what’s real anymore.”

Without another word, he places both palms on the counter behind you, trapping your body between his, and kisses you.

It knocks the breath right out of your soul. Every vessel in your brain is screaming at you, reminding you that it’s wrong and he’s not supposed to like you and you’re not supposed to like him back and that you sure as hell shouldn’t be kissing him at all, let alone your workplace.

Nevertheless, you can’t help it. Everything you knew has been proven wrong. Everything you have questioned has proven themselves to be true. You know nothing at all. You kiss him back.

Acknowledging your reciprocation, he lifts a hand to cradle your face, gently brushing his thumb over your cheekbone down to your jaw. He takes a step closer, pressing your body flush against his. You haven’t closed the diner; somebody could walk in at any moment.

Running your fingers through his soft locks, he takes the opportunity to trail his lips to your neck. It’s at this moment that you begin to feel everything, and it’s all too real too quick. You push him away, taking one brief glance at his disheveled hair and swollen, rose-tinted lips.

You know you shouldn’t. You know you’re being a coward. You know the answer.

Be that as it may, you still run.

seungmo: Bball game @ school tonight

seungmo: Idk what happened w u and jeongin but pls come to the game

seungmo: U know how much ive been looking forward to this

seungmo: I'll keep him away, i promise

You shouldn’t have gone. You should have stayed home, rotting in your room for yet another night, catching up on all the studying you missed out on when you went to that coffee shop with Seungmin, finding yourself tracing the shape of your lips when you’re deep in thought, recalling the way Jeongin’s felt on yours.

The truth is, you do know how much Seungmin has been looking forward to this match. He had realized long ago that you couldn’t care less about sports, but still he found your face amongst the crowd every single time. Even though you had such a deep scowl it made him chuckle every time he saw you, he felt his chest warm with affection at the act of being present.

This is one of those unconditional, unspoken rules you’ve established in your friendship. You would support him, and he would support you. You couldn’t have ditched this.

But as you approach closer and closer to the basketball court, you notice something amiss. By now, you should have been able to hear the rowdy chanting of other students. You should have already been blinded by the lights surrounding the court, considering it’s already 6 PM. You should have seen Seungmin waiting for you, but he’s not there.

Nothing’s there. Nothing but Yang Jeongin, standing in the middle of the court.

“I’m starting to think Seungmin is playing matchmaker,” you say as you walk towards him.

His face cracks into a fit of laughter, and it lights up the whole area. “You think?”

You’re close enough to him to see how puffy his eyes are— is he just exhausted or has he been crying? He’s silent for a second, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, before opening his mouth to finally speak.

“Listen, I—”

“No, no,” you interrupt him. “Let me speak first.”

“I used to despise you, as you already know. For a reason that is so stupid that if I said it out loud right now I’d pee myself laughing, probably. And I guess that hatred helped me cover up my insecurities, and that I couldn’t believe someone like me and someone like you could be with anything more than enemies.” At some point, you started looking into his eyes, and now you can’t seem to pull away. “You’re not boring, Yang Jeongin, not at all. You’re certain. You’re my probability of 1.”

“So… Moral of the story, I’m different from all the other boys, yes?” He teases, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer inch by inch.

“You think that’s the moral of the story?” “Hell, no,” he chuckles. “The moral of the story is that sometimes you need to ditch that whole superiority complex and realize that you’re exactly like everybody else. You’re smart, yes, but you’re also stupid and naive and clumsy. And that’s completely alright. That doesn’t make you any less deserving of anything, it just makes you human.”

And as he tugs you into a kiss, you realize he’s right. It doesn’t matter what you know. Life is still uncertain, anyway, and the probabilities of most things are far less than 1. All you know is that whatever happens, you’ll be loved in the process.

#🕸️ SPIDERHANzZz !!!#stray kids x reader #yang jeongin x reader #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #yang jeongin #i.n #i.n skz #i.n stray kids #i.n x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfiction

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ant1quarian · 6 months

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Dustverse Nicknames so far:

( Very suseptible to change as I learn and the narrative grips me by the face and forces me to change things :D )

OG - Original Dust

Wreckage - Sid’s Dust

Ruins - Copyvessel Dust

Remnant - Quellow

Clutter - Dust!Swap Sans

Riffraff - Silly dust with crown and big boots

Discard - Voidface

Reject - Tall Dust

Cinder - Femme Dust

Debris - Idol Dust

Wilt - Bald Dust

Sprinkle - Friendly Dust

Spread - Bunny

Scraps - Saejun!Dust

Husks - Cap!Dust

Mote - Detective!Dust

Fos (Fossilz) - Diesel!Dust

Specks - Timetraveller Dust

Detritus - Biblically Accurate Dust

Olyu - Error!Dust

Fracture - Ivan!Dust

Serial - Killer-Dust fusion

Dander - Bittybat Dust

Erosion – Eldritch Dust

Smog – Smiles

Pollen – Bitty Dust

Ashes - Brother Dust

Smog – Drugdealer Dust (Always High)

Atrophy – Stabby McFeral Stabbsters

Rubble - Mttbs Dust

Malaise - Friends or Foe Dust

Scatter - Flighteningtale Dust

Misery – Transfem Dust

Mites - Middleschool Dust

Residue – Magical Girl Dust

Talc - Limbus Company Dust

Webs – Nun Dust

Grit – Goblin Dust (And his Rat, Hyacinth)

Fallout - Witherborn Dust

Decay - Avian Dust

Soot - Mafiadust

Fuzz - Cat Dust

Grain – Band Dust

Bell - Heather’s Dust – Potential Placeholder

Plague – Pestilence!Dust

Wraith – Ghost!Dust

Crow – Etherealdreamtale!Dust

Stain – Dust!Ink

Burgundy - Dust!Fell

Silt – Festivalverse Dust

Rust - Dust who yoinked Crimson’s SOUL

Closure - Dust who yoinked the SOULs (If you want, Lili)

If you are a creator of one of the Dusts and don't like the nickname, feel free to reach out and tell me to change 'em!!

Or just, y'know, tell me not to use the Dust at all. This is purely for fun and I understand that some creators don't want their characters used!

Also do you want me to tell you about the differences in the AUs between Voidface!Dust and OG Dust? (Like all of the very similar Dust's) 'cause there will be differences

#undertale fandom #dustverse #dust sans #arian's ideas

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sugoi-writes · 5 months

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Nun!Alastor x Reader - The Confessional - Part 1

It's 1 AM, and @st-alastors-confessional has me foaming at the mouth. I wrote this far-too-long drabble based off of the MOD's Nun Alastor. Please please enjoy!

Warning: Not proofread in the slightest, with implications of sacrilege and sinning behavior. You've been warned! I might do another part with more debauchery down the road hehe

The sermon was going swimmingly, all things considered. The Pastor and Priest, St. Vox, lead with a soulful, boisterous tone. Albeit, he had always led his sermons with a strong, charismatic energy. He left the congregation absolutely enraptured, waiting on hand and foot for him to speak again.... You, another sinner among the crowd, tried to absorb what you could from his ravings and ramblings.

Clearly, when you wound up in Hell... you found out the hard way that God was, indeed, real. You had long been a on-Christian, and even if you still weren't... you couldn't look the facts in the face and say they weren't true. It was a simple notion:

God was real. You were not a loyal believer. You did a bad thing or two, and now you're in a church in the heart of the Pentagram, seeking answers.

You were hoping to find a way to get into Heaven... St. Vox's approach was very traditional, almost 'Dark Ages' approach. A phrase you heard once or twice rung through your mind, clear as the morning church bells:

" When a coin in the coffer rings, a soul in purgatory springs..."... no, was it sings??? That, you werent sure... either way--

Many wealthier, gullible sinners would shove money towards the Church, desperate to buy their way out of Hell. The more meek, kind hearted sinners would often throw money to the offering plates to prevent their love ones from suffering the same fate... Whether their monetary sacrifices were successful or not... well, that's yet to be seen. And no one truly know where that money goes...

And so you searched and listened in the pews patiently, hoping that something would reveal itself to you... Would living justly get you out of here? Would denouncing sin in its entirety get you the ticket out of this hellhole? Hell, did you need to declare yourself celibate? You certainly wouldn't be opposed, after some of the shit you saw on Day One...

In all honestly, you'd be willing to throw a few dollars in the pot on the off chance your gut was wrong about St. Vox's approach. As you know, your intuition had led you astray before...

You were five Sundays deep in this contrived drivel, and yet, you still had questions... The questions that plagued your mind could only be answered by the Priest, ideally during Confessional tonight... But, as you tried your best to stay awake through another biblical tangent, you were startled by a choral uproar. The choir, made entirely of clergy, was the closest thing to Heavenly that they, or any sinner, could hear in Hell.

Honest efforts were being made to sing the hymns and profess the Gospel accurately. The pitches and incantations were perfectly admirable, even enjoyable... and surprisingly, all of this was all done in Latin. It was nearly enough to raise goosebumps across your flesh, your senses pleased by the perfect, harmonious progressions.

One among the nuns who sung, with strong, crimson features, met your gaze in the middle of the refrain. You felt the gaze burrowing into you deeper, trembling subconscious as the song made you sway along.

A pointed, yellowed smile graced your eyes as the deer demon sang along. The overall tone of the higher melodic line had felt like cashmere; it was refined and soft due to their(?) unique voice texture. It was a tone that you felt was familiar... a comforting one. You couldnt put your tongue on it, squinting slightly at the demure nun. They(?) seemed to notice your infatuation, their hands folding neatly together and clasping a fine, ornate rosary. Their hands were elegant, long and thin, reminding you of a Royal... surely, those hands were used for more than empty prayer?

You felt your mind run to impurities and sin almost instantly, panicking as you tore your sight away from the Nun. You felt your throat running dry as you shook your head in shock. You couldn't be thinking this way about a nun-- a NUN? Quite literally, a celibate being, devoted to God and His work. This felt... wrong. So wrong, even for a sinner like you.

Your legs brushed tightly against one another, hoping to stiffle the feeling that pooled in your core. You watched the way that the Nun's chest rose and fell, how the angular jaw was complimented by the small, bobbed tufts that framed it. Your eyes became lost in the visual stimuli as you pondered just how demure and sweet this Nun must have looked under the habit...

You bite the inside of your cheek as you felt the Nun's eyes still looking to you, as if they KNEW exactly what you were thinking. 'If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I might catch a cold,' your mind mimicked in their voice.

You felt indecent, completely exposed to someone who you should be regarding as an example of purity and devotion...

As the hymn finally concluded, the Priest dismissed the clergy. He was swiftly wrapping things up as the coffers and offering plates made their rounds around the room. The nuns assisted, coming row by row to collect generous donations and desperate offerings. You felt yourself stiffen as you noticed the red and black demon making their way closer to you, voice teeming with a startling sweetness.

"Blessings unto you, dear Sinner. Many thanks. ...Blessings unto you, dear. How has your mother been fairing--?"

As the velvety voice grew closer to you, you felt yourself unable to move, paralyzed with fear. What if they knew you were lusting over them so superficially? Would they be able to tell?

You nearly fell into the aisle as a sinner slammed into you from behind, thrusting money towards the chaste nun," Pl-Please!!!! Please, this is all that I have!!! Sister Alastor, Sister Alastor!!! Bless me!!! Bless me, Sister!!!"

The Demon nun took pause at your row, noticing you struggling under the weight of the sinner on top of you. Your lungs felt like they were being squeezed shut, unable to expand in their efforts. You pushed with all of your might, eyes closed as you fought back," W-Watch it, you f-- Ugh, you putrid FUCK!!! Get off me!!!"

Swiftly, Sister Alastor's hand was on the neck of the sinner, squeezing tightly as he gasped and gurgled. The nun simply smiled, head tilted," Dear sinner! Your penance is null and void if you cast discomfort and pain upon thine neighbor!" The nun's neck practically snapped at velocity they cocked their head up, looking downcast at the panicking demon. Unable to look up, you missed the smile Alastor wore, threatening to tear the demonic face of the nun in two.

"Take your vile hands and cast them into the River Styx... for your blood money is not welcome in these halls... Now leave this scared place. "

The sinner gasps, coughing and sputtering as he scrambles away, causing you to fall forward out of your pew. Just when you think you're about to eat shit: two large, taloned hands delicately hold you aloft.

"Are you unharmed, little lamb?" You blink for a moment, looking up slowly... only to find Sister Alastor's face an inch from your own. You stuttered as your hot breath fanned against his face, your legs threatening to give out under you.

"Y-Yes, Im-- I'm quite alright. Thank you, Sister..." You allow Alastor to place you back onto your feet, the hands of the docile-looking demon smoothing out your outfit and brushing off imaginary debris.

"I apologize for making you intervene. Thank you-- I would've been trampled to death, were it not for you." The deer Demon's smile could have made the devil tremble... but to you, it seemed entirely sincere," Thank me not, dear Lamb. For the Lord always calls upon his disciples to help those in need." Alastor takes a step away from you, bowing their head and giving you a polite curtsy.

"Alas, I must be away. But, should you need to seek council... the Lord always has room to hear out your wayward strifes and confessions." You reach out and almost touch the Nun's habit, sheepishly blushing when you sense the farmer's flinch.

"A-Actually... will the Priest be seeing anyone for Confession tonight? I... I have concerns. Concerns I feel like he could help me through... Im troubled, and just..." Your eyes are downcast, unable to look at the devilishly handsome demon," Im... concerned about my salvation. And need advice on how better to achieve it... or, if its really too late for me now."

You feel your heart leap into your throat as the Nun's head pulls off a complete 180° spin, the body following suit a moment after. Alastor clasps both of your hands in his own, smile wide and full of glee," But of course! Our hallowed halls could never deny such an honest soul seeking the Lord's guidance!" Alastor's head grows closer to yours, voice hushing. You're forced to lean in too, his voice hardly above a whisper.

"However, he will be unable to see anyone just yet. Return at the Witching Hour... he will have an audience with you then." Your eyes widened as you smiled back, eagerly shaking the nun's hands," O-Oh thank you-- Thank you!!! I appreciate that! I'll be back soon, then. Bless you, Sister Alastor! "

You nod and bow back to the nun, who regards you evenly but warmly, before watching you leave. You did not see the smirk that spread across Alastor's face... the glint of excitement that lights up his candy red eyes.

Oh, he knows damn well that Vox will not seek an audience with you that late in the night... who best to stand in for the Priest other than himself... the Mother Superior?

His mind festers with demented excitement as you stumbled out of the church, looking like a scared, timid doe... Oh, how he would enjoy seeing you again. He would need to prepare for your visit... after all, you would be doing your fair share of confessing AND atoning for your sins... your eyes hid nothing from him. And he was going to enjoy seeing them well up with blissful tears, a wanton expression gracing your cheeks...

The click of the nun's shoes echoed as he followed the other clergy members elegantly, his face not giving anything away. Oh Lord, how you've blessed him with a most delightful pleasure... he'd be sure to repent for his indecency later.

#nun!alastor #nun alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #ahahah i tried keeping things tame but Nun Alastor makes my brain m e lt #i very much enjoy the blurssed imagery of alastor as a nun #i hope yall enjoy it too!!!#this was cranked out in one sitting so i hope this isnt SHIT AHAH

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wr-n · 4 months

Note

here's a Shakey lazy doodle of them.

number of eyes? yes.

I originally made them as a biblically accurate angel crimson joke but then made them into rings!crimson.

they're a dusttale archivist. basically their domain is all dusttale related things. they collect dust like shiney pokemon and reshape not only his mind but his body and even personality to their whim.

they remake "dust" in whatever desire they have. this version of crimson is more selfish and unlike regular crimson does not treat dust as an equal despite the power difference.

#wraith asks #liliallowed #rings!crimson #wraith art

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campbell-rose · 1 year

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Helluva Fucking Rant: S2 E6

OKay I’m a big fat liar and my pants are burning my ass rn, I know I said I’d do Rwby designs next but then the whole leaked episode drama happened and now it’s out and I need to complain.

*Off the bat, I’m not going to talk pacing mainly because I have little experience with dealing with pacing (having never written anything more than comic strips lol). The episode didn’t feel too fast but anyway

I’m going to organize this based on gripes I have per character.

Fizzarolli: He is my baby. He's like kind of babygirl if that makes any sense. “Maybe I could burn the milk this time”

I adore Fizz as a character. He’s not babified or infantilized like a lot of Viv’s other gay men. So far. Who knows, the writers have proven how adept they are at contradicting and retconning characters. But uhhhh what the fuck was he doing in Greed? Am I stupid? Like, it’s never spelled out. Is it for pr? Is it a deal with Mammon type thing? Is he promoting something? If he had somewhere to be why did he let his dogs run him all over creation??? Like, bit of an issue there as it’s only vaguely mentioned that he was practicing something.

His backstory is like... acceptable I suppose. Not what I was expecting. I was expecting like, what we got, and a combination of some other theories I had personally. See, my issue is the fire and how imps have been shown in previous episodes to be, ya know, IMMUNE TO FIRE. Imagine if, and bear with me here huge stretch I know, imps are immune to fire and hellfire – but not holy fire. Like, shit straight from the angel’s burning halo type fire. That would make sense, since hellfire is a thing in pop culture and biblically accurate angels are all gold and flames!

I do like the idea that fizz’s entire body is white from scars, however I think his scars need texture for the idea to sell. Maybe in full costume it’s covered with makeup, but come on people he was lit on fire, you ever seen a healed burn? Fizz being scared of the flames legit made me sad, I love him so much. However they’re trying to show he’s got like ptsd (maybe not exactly but still) from it, but it feels inconsistent to me for some reason. On a final note, he never should’ve forgiven Blitzo in any way, shape or form tbh, I would’ve preferred what Barbie did just straight up, I don’t like you, I can’t forgive you please leave me alone.

Asmodeus: This cemented for me how much I fucking hate his design. His stupid head is so tiny and his body is built like a brick shithouse like, it’s so unbalanced and weird looking. I like his character here I suppose. No noticeable inconsistencies from his first appearance. His va is killing it tbh, love him so much what a king.

I’m fine with his character, what I’m not fine with is the weird consent angle their going with. Like... he is the SIN of LUST??? Valentino is more of what I’d expect as the sin of Lust compared to Asmodeus. Also, the WEAKEST and most NON THREATENING SIN??? KESHADOG IS RIGHT THERE

Crimson: He should’ve been hired by Mammon to get back at Asmodeus. Maybe Asmodeus has an unpaid debt with Mammon and has been shirking him so Mammon is like ‘i have your fucktoy now, give me my money or you won’t get him back’

Like his little video chat could’ve been context, like “You don’t know me, but you may know my employer – Mammon?”

The paperwork would make sense then, Mammon is sending over contracts and bullshit Asmodeus has to sign. The importance of reading the fine print would be even more present because Asmodeus is dealing with someone on his level who can actually fuck him up, not some nobody imp he could kill with a glance! Crimson’s motive could be that Mammon offered him a share of Ozzie’s stock and would let him run some shit because Crimson has become a prominent member of higher society despite being an imp, which is the only reason Striker is partnered with him.

Striker: Striker baby doll, please just fucking kill Fizz. Like, stop fucking standing there, kill the fucker. Omg I was so annoyed with his lack of action this episode. Both Fizz and Striker are incredible agile and snake like characters, this whole distraction song should’ve been a mix of striker trying to kill Fizz/Fizz avoiding him and Crim’s gang being just flabbergasted by the bullshit they’re witnessing. It’s been shown before that Crimson ony ever sits on the sidelines while his goons get killed so like????

Anyway, Viv can try as hard as she wants to paint Striker as in the wrong and a bigot, but it won’t work on me. He’s completely in the right because imps are literally the slave/working class in this caste system. Fizz is (to imps in the slums and less fortunate) probably the epitome of a pampered lapdog plaything of the upper class. ANd that could’ve been something interesting to explore. Why not show the perspective of other imps that think like Striker, maybe have them be antagonistic to Fizz because he’s Asmodeus and Mammon’s pet, or maybe Fizz finds out that’s what people think of him and he’s horrified and that’s why he’s mad Blitzo calls him a whore. But no, because Striker is an evil bigot who sides with the evil woman Stella so nobody else thinks like he does.

Also, his new va has the sexiest voice i've heard since live action Buggy or sub Crocodile so I'm not complaining about him taking up screen time

Him all disheveled is straight up working for me

Blitzo: Once again he gets away with being shitty and stupid and awful because he’s a woobie. Why the fuck was the crux of their hatred based on a birthday cake and the miscommunication trope??? I hate this so much.

Was Blitzo in love with Fizz? Is that what that blink and you’ll miss it letter was? I’m getting very tired of this show having blink and you’ll miss it plot beats. That isn’t showing not telling, it’s like sweeping shit under a rug. Its like they think just because it was on screen for a frame the audience will catch it and be like ‘omg it happened’ or feel smart for catching something. Stolitz making up through text shouldn’t be a pause the video and read moment for fuckssake.

I’m finding it very ahrd to tolerate Blitzo. On the topic of him though, I saw the leaked episode. WHY was Barbie taken out of the final flashback???

What the actual fuck???? Like... once again the women in this show are just shoved away and forgotten this is like Naruto level female character writing guys. Naruto had one good female character and she was still sidelined half the damn time.

Also i fucking hate how this show can't be serious for more than five seconds like when Fizz and Blitzo hug and Blitzo is like 'haha wanna make out' i hate this but it isn't as egregious as having dildos during an abuse scene

Conclusion: Animation was amazing (also one of my fav animators KittenSneeze is an animator for Spindlehorse now like i love them so good for them), plot was whatever, characters are where the story falls, this won and I can’t anymore.

Actually no, not conclusion. You know what really makes me hate Helluva Boss? It isn’t fair. I know that sounds childish and stupid, but who cares I’m childish and I’m stupid. Why is it that someone like Viv, who consistently doesn’t take criticism and is just a shit person all around gets rewarded for doing dogshit all the time. Yeah it’s a bit step for indie animation or whatever but she literally has Alex Brightman in her fucking pocket I don’t wanna hear it. Lackadaisy has earned it’s time in the goddamn spotlight, not Viv and her stupid creations. It’s so unfair. She got popular off of happenstance for her kesha sparkledogs and now she’s off bastardizing demonology and writing borderline backwards gay and female characters and she’s getting praised as the patron saint of queer rep and indie animation. Like, she doesn’t deserve it. Genuinely. I wish I could just post my demon story and people would just flock to it like flies to shit and shower me in praise and protect me from any criticism. But that’s not how real life works, but for some reason it is for Viv. Its just... I hate it.

Anyway, baby rant over. This episode was like 7/10 tbh. It wasn't amazing but for Helluva Boss it was good. Sarcastic Chorus made a video about it that I'm gonna watch because honestly his takes could convince me this show is on Arcane's level lmao. Bye bye <3

#Notice how i didn't mention Stolas because he had no reason to be in this damn episode #helluva boss critical #anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism

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priestbit · 5 months

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[ ˑ ˑ ˑ ] 𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑰𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑺' 𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑶𝑺 & 𝑷𝑰𝑬𝑹𝑪𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 , bramble's quick and easy guide .

NECK, SHOULDERS AND BACK :

donnie has a big neck piece that depicts medusa. her expression is best described as one of serene rage. her eyes are totally white, which contrasts with the heavy black and grey detailing of the rest of the piece. the snakes of her hair fan out around his throat and along the underside of his jaw.

a wilted sunflower behind his right ear, usually hidden behind his hair. got it not long after leaving longing, new mexico. it is meant to celebrate james gallowes.

behind his left ear, you'll find a single crimson lipstick stain that's also usually hidden by his hair.

on the back of his neck, under all his hair, you'll find a biblically accurate angel design.

a laughing skull wearing a battered cowboy hat on the back of his right shoulder, done in black ink.

severed angel wings on both shoulder blades, done with pops of red ink and with several bloody feathers scattered around the area.

a rattlesnake that follows the curve of his spine.

an anatomical heart with a noose wrapped around it on the back of his left shoulder. it was also gotten in celebration of james gallowes.

on the right side of his lower back you'll find a silhouetted version of the two men shaking hands from pink floyd's 'wish you were here' album cover.

just above the pink floyd tat, you'll find a pinup style tattoo of a lady with dark curly hair, and a cowboy hat. she's covered in tattoos and is wearing what looks like an unbuttoned plaid shirt and cowboy boots. she's winking and throwing devil horns with her left hand.

next to the pinup tat, you'll find a skeletal cowboy wearing a battered poncho with a smoking pistol in its hand. it's also got a toothpick in its mouth if you look closely.

EARS :

his first piercing was an animal canine tooth on a chain hanging from his left ear lobe, though this piercing started as a simple silver hoop. he gets a second one in the same lobe, and often switches it up between a simple stud earring or a silver hoop.

he has helix piercings in both ears, and both resemble skeletal hands. he often switches it up between the skeletal hands, belt buckle cuffs or simple silver bands.

TORSO :

there are various lipstick stains ranging from deep purple to bright red on his hips and his abdomen.

a ram's skull with four horns, and a third eye on its forehead done in a detailed comic book style, with twisted branches crawling underneath the design in black ink. this tattoo is located on his pectorals and spreads out across the tops of his shoulders.

on the right side of his ribcage, you'll find a large piece that depicts a demonic creature with bat-like wings, carrying two deadly flails. flanking it on both sides are bats and ravens.

there's a stylised black ankh on his lower abdomen, with the loop going around his belly button, and the rest of it trailing down and stopping on his pelvis, just above his groin.

to the left of the ankh design you'll find the words 'no future' in gothic lettering on his lower abdomen.

a pentagram on his left hip, this was the first tattoo he ever got.

a guitar pick on his right collarbone that was gotten to celebrate his father. it's one of his more recent tattoos.

donnie has nipple piercings. they're simple silver bars that you can totally see whenever he's wearing a tight shirt or a white tank top.

RIGHT ARM :

he has a grim reaper in a cloud of skulls on his bicep. this is easily the most intricate of his tattoos.

a marlboro cigarette box with flowers sticking out, instead of marlboro, the box says 'cowboy killers.' you'll find this one just under the grim reaper design.

the second tattoo donnie ever got was a mountain lion crouching on his forearm, the design is a heavily stylised one, highlighted with pops of colour on the eyes.

there's a cartoon penguin wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses for emma on the inside of his forearm, above the mountain lion.

to the left of the mountain lion you'll find the torso of a knight with a sword, the knight has only a helmet, no face, and several arrows sticking out of his back.

the ac/dc lightning strike on the side of his wrist, just under the bone.

a horses skull on the other side of the same wrist, has an outline of the horse's head around it in dark black ink.

a stylised bat can be found on the back of his hand, this one has been heavily influenced by gothic art styles. there are various stick n'poke spiders and cobwebs accompanying this design, they almost act like a border to it.

on his knuckles and his fingers, there are outlines of the knuckle and finger bones done in crosshatched black ink.

LEFT ARM :

there's a barbed wire design around his upper forearm, above his bite scar, with some drops of blood coming from the barbs.

there's a yosemite sam above the barbed wire, firing off his pistols. this was got as a joke with his brother brody, who used to call him yosemite sam whenever he got angry as a child.

he has 'rancid creature' in gothic lettering on his shoulder, and it has been highlighted by a bright green drop shadow.

there's an outlaw riding a bucking horse and firing a pistol on his bicep.

next to the cowboy design is a demon bent over, farting. this was a design that izzy jones came up with as a joke, and donnie liked it so much that he got it.

to the right of the cowboy design, you'll find a couple of cherubs, similar to the ones found in medieval and renaissance paintings, with punk hairstyles and cigarettes in their mouths. both cherubs have guitars slung over their backs. this one he got for his other bandmates, sammy laurel and clara bell.

you'll find a skull with two monstrous hands with claws for nails holding it, so the jaws of the skull are wide open just below this tattoo.

a cowboy boot with a snake wrapped around it can be found next to the bite scar on his forearm.

along the other side of the bite scar, you'll find a simple outline sketch of a long wyvern-like dragon fighting a knight.

on his middle finger there's tolkien's original sketch of smaug from thror's map to the lonely mountain, it's been done in bold red ink, and was gotten as a tribute to his love of fantasy.

on his other fingers, you'll find small tarot-inspired cards, and small stick n'poke doodles, like smiley faces, stars, crosses, crescent moons, suns, and hearts.

on the back of his left hand you'll find a portrait of a woman wearing a wide-brimmed witches hat with a cobweb forming in the curve of it. she's smirking and has wiry, black hair that looks as though it's wet. her eyes are nothing more than white circles, as the top half of her face is cast in the shadow of the hat she's wearing. you can see the hint of her cleavage and nothing more.

LEFT LEG :

there's a longhorn skull on his thigh, done in a bold comic book style.

he has two horses on the outside of his thigh, both are up on their hind legs, locked mid-fight. this one has been done in heavy black ink.

he got an american football wearing sunglasses on the inside of his ankle for lee bennett after he died.

besides the football is a ballet dancer with mechanical legs and flame-red hair. she's mid-pirouette, with a wide smile on her face. this one is dedicated to stacy bennett, who was bound to a wheelchair after her interaction with the same creature that killed lee.

NOTES :

on both arms, you'll find various space-themed tattoos, such as planets, moons, shooting stars, star clusters, galaxies, and so on, in the small gaps between larger pieces.

you may also find some stick n'poke flowers, such as roses or sunflowers, done in these gaps as well. these will have been done by members of rancid creature or by friends looking to practise their tattooing skills on him.

the number of tattoos donnie has before he gets clean is far less than the number he has after getting clean. tattoos are his addiction, and he'll look to get one for literally any reason. all the people who mean something to him, and who have meant something to him, will have a tattoo dedicated to them somewhere on his body. which means that if we've plotted a dynamic where donnie and your muse are close to donnie in any capacity, i'll likely plot with you that donnie will get a tattoo somewhere for them, and he will show off about it.

#& * a terribly real thing in a terribly false world . [ metas ]#& * a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort . [ study ]#( hehehe )#( pls enjoy this insight )#( into donnie's tats and piercings )

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