#but it is also Very Very Different when its her going through this

[wqnsho]

resurface | kang dae-ho x gn! reader

*.✧ synopsis: after years of heartbreak and betrayal, you’ve learned to bury your emotions to survive. but when your high school sweetheart, kang dae-ho, unexpectedly appears in the deadly game you're also in, the walls you built around your heart begin to crack. As past and present collide, survival becomes about more than just staying alive *.✧ word count: 10.1k (yeah) *.✧ warnings: squidgame season 2 spoilers, violence, death, trauma, toxic relationships, cursing, fluff, angst. your number is 389. *.✧ note: dae-ho won against in-ho by just .2%! thank you all so much for the support. my in-ho fanfic reached 1K notes already, while 1k+ of you participated in my poll! I'm very thankful for the support :> i was in the middle of editing in-ho's fic when the polls finished, when i saw how close the votes were i laughed. luckily i only needed to tweak a bit in this fic for it to be done. enjoy reading!! >:) dae-ho is such a cutiee!! long italicized texts are flashbacks. masterlist | request here

“Shit, I just moved didn’t I?” Player 196 asked in a lighthearted tone after swatting the bee that landed on her. Before anyone could answer, she dropped dead to the ground, a bullet from god knows where piercing through her skull.

The area erupted in chaos as players realized the horrific truth: to be eliminated meant death. Others tried to make a desperate run for it, while some froze, paralyzed from fear, and you were one of them. 

Your eyes trailed down to the corpse laying a few feet in front of you. Your heart dropped. That could’ve been you.

You should've trusted your gut. You should’ve known that whatever bullshit that shady man in a suit said was too good to be true. But here you were, paying the price of your stupid decisions.

The air was thick with panic as a bloody massacre unfolded before your eyes. People who ran got shot left and right, while those who stayed survived. Once it cleared those who moved, the mechanical doll turned around, its eerie voice rising in song. The players were too stunned to move. Only one person had the courage to act—Player 456. With unwavering resolve, they ran ahead and instructed you all to hide behind someone bigger than you.

The rest of you followed suit, moving quickly. You ended up behind Player 230—Thanos, a rapper drowning in 1.19 billion won of debt. You didn’t trust him, and your instincts proved right. As the game progressed, he shoved people ahead of him, ending their lives without hesitation. Yet, you had to give him some credit: the man could hold a pose.

One by one, players crossed the finish line. As the timer reached 0, the hellish game finally ended. You were shaking, your body trembling with the aftershock, but at least you were still alive. The guards escorted everyone back to the main area, where the survivors collapsed to their knees, begging for mercy, begging to go home. You could hear them, desperate, pleading. It was almost unbearable.

“There must’ve been a misunderstanding,” the square guard’s voice rang out, cutting through the despair. His tone was flat and devoid of emotion. “We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity.”

His words did little to reassure anyone. Your eyes rolled at their response. Misunderstanding my ass! The chance of survival, of escape, felt more like a cruel joke than anything else. But before the guard could continue, a voice rose above the rest, sharp and commanding.

“Clause three of the consent form!” Player 456 called out, his voice filled with defiance.

Everyone turned to look at him, some surprised, others hopeful. You were no different. You hadn’t expected anyone to stand up in this situation. You didn’t even know what clause three was, you skipped that part and immediately signed the form, but there was something in the way he spoke that made you believe he knew more than the rest of you.

“The games may be terminated upon a majority vote, correct?” he demanded, his eyes never leaving the guard.

The square guard responded without missing a beat, his tone unchanged. “That is correct.”

“Then let us take a vote right now,” Player 456 pressed, his voice firm and unyielding.

There was a brief silence before the guard spoke again, acknowledging the request with a chilling calmness. “Of course, we respect your right to freedom of choice.” He paused, and in that moment, you could feel the hope that had been buried deep inside everyone start to stir. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “But first, let me announce the prize amount that has been accumulated.”

With the press of a button, the room shifted. The cold, sterile space took on a strange new color, bathed in a soft, eerie glow. A massive piggy bank, almost comically large, descended from the ceiling, its mechanical limbs creaking with the weight. The sound of bills filling it echoed through the room, a surreal sound that only added to the strangeness of the moment. It felt like something out of a twisted casino, a game that didn’t care about the lives it destroyed, only the money it could accumulate.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91,” the guard continued, as the money filled the piggy bank at a steady pace. “Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated. If you choose to quit the games now, the 365 remaining players can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

“How much is that?” Player 100 asked.

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won,” the guard answered flatly, almost as if it was an insignificant amount.

You could hear the gasps of disbelief that rippled through the crowd. It was hard to wrap your mind around it. You almost died for that? The amount seemed insignificant compared to the terror you’d experienced. You could hear others murmuring, their frustration and disbelief growing louder. What good was 24 million won when you had been pushed to the brink of death, when you had witnessed so much suffering?

“Twenty million? You said 45.6 billion!” Player 230 shouted, his voice filled with outrage.

The guard’s response was cold, calculated. “The rule was that a hundred million won would be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, and more players are eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

The answer felt hollow, like an empty promise that was meant to keep you on the hook.

“Then how much will it be if you survive until the very end?” someone asked, their voice tinged with desperation.

“As I already told you, the total prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won. Those who make it through all six games will equally divide the 45.6 billion won.”

A hush fell over the room, as the reality of the prize set in. 45.6 billion won. It was an obscene amount of money. The sum felt impossible, unreal. But at the same time, it was exactly what so many of you needed. The temptation of that massive prize loomed in the air, a beacon in the darkness. Could you really leave with only 24 million? Was that all your life was worth?

“So, if you’re the only one to survive, you get 45.6 billion won?” Player 230 asked, as if the question needed to be confirmed, just to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood.

“That is correct,” the guard answered, his voice detached, like it was just another part of the game.

For a brief moment, the room seemed to breathe in unison. The weight of the prize, the gravity of the situation, pressed down on everyone. People began to murmur among themselves, the excitement in their voices unmistakable. The idea of that unimaginable sum of money—more than they had ever seen in their lives—became a tangible thing in the air. People who had been trembling in fear moments before now looked around, their eyes glinting with a new kind of hunger. The atmosphere shifted, the air thick with the scent of greed and desperation.

“So we can take a vote again and decide to leave after the next game?” someone asked, voice laced with uncertainty, but also with a flicker of hope.

“As promised in the consent form, you can take a vote after each game and decide to leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point,” the guard confirmed. “We always prioritize your voluntary actions.”

The voting began, and the room filled with tension once again. Player 456  was the first one to vote. He stepped forward, pressing X without hesitation. Others followed, some pressing X, others O. When your turn came, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t hesitate. You stepped forward, pressing O with a sense of finality, the sound of the button clicking louder in your ears than it should have been. You placed the patch on your jacket, marking your decision, and walked back to your side of the room.

You didn’t look back.

You weren’t sure when you had made up your mind, but the choice was clear. Despite everything, despite the fear gnawing at the edges of your resolve, you knew you couldn’t walk away now. 

Out there, in the real world, the debt that had dragged you into this nightmare would still be waiting. The vultures would circle, just as they always had, but now you could fight back. You could take a step toward something better. The thought of going back to the crushing weight of your debts, to the life that had led you to this point, filled you with dread. There was nothing for you out there anymore.

The prize, the money, the possibility of escaping this endless cycle—this was the only chance you had left. There was no turning back now.

As much as you sympathized with those who wanted to leave, You just couldn’t. Here, at least, there was hope. A sliver of it. And if you survived, you could finally break free. You could pay it all off. You could start over. For the first time in what felt like forever, you had a chance—one that you couldn’t let slip through your fingers.

Your gaze wandered to the others, watching as they made their decisions. Some pressed X with shaking hands, their faces filled with desperation to leave and go home. Others pressed O with grim determination, their eyes locked on the future, no matter how uncertain. And yet, the overwhelming weight of it all crashed down on you again, heavy and suffocating.

You looked up at the piggy bank hanging high above, its golden glow mocking you with promises of salvation. If you made it—if you became the lone survivor—you’d earn it all. 45.6 billion won. Enough to erase every debt. Enough to silence the loan sharks who haunted your dreams. Enough to leave it all behind and disappear.

But as you stared at it, bile rose in your throat. Was this all your life had become—fighting for money, sacrificing everything just to survive? Your stomach twisted as your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms.

Reaching for your necklace, you clutched it tightly, the familiar weight grounding you for a moment. Its warmth offered a flicker of comfort, but even that couldn’t silence the emptiness creeping in. Here, hope felt like a dangerous thing to hold onto.

Out there, you had nothing. No one. Over time, everyone had given up on you. Your friends had drifted away, unwilling to carry the weight of your problems. Your family had turned their backs, tired of the chaos and the shame. And then there was... him.

He left without a word. No explanation, no goodbye. Just gone, as if you had never mattered at all.

When he disappeared, it felt like the last thread holding you together unraveled. You tried to move on, to make sense of it, but the truth was simple: no one stayed. Out there, you were invisible—a burden no one wanted to carry.

But here? Here, you had a purpose. As twisted and brutal as it was, the games gave you something to hold onto. Every step forward felt like proof that you could still fight, still matter, even if it was only to yourself.

You tore your gaze from the piggy bank and stared down at your shoes. It used to be white— pure. Now it’s scuffed and worn, much like you. Each scratch and stain told a story of a life lived in survival mode, clinging to scraps of hope. You couldn’t help but wonder—if you walked away now, what would be waiting for you? Nothing but the same endless cycle of despair.

At least here, you had a chance. A sick, twisted, blood-soaked chance.

And that was more than the outside world had ever given you.

In the midst of your inner turmoil, you didn’t notice someone standing beside you. They were looking at you, as if they wanted to make small talk yet didn't know how.

There was something bugging Dae-ho and he didn't know what it was. He couldn't stay still, couldn't think properly, couldn’t stay calm. He desperately needs a distraction, and he needs it now. But what could he possibly do? He can't just slap himself or shout. No way, that's too embarrassing. 

The male thought deeply before an idea popped up in his head. Eureka! He could try and talk to someone! His excitement died down as fast as it came. Yeah, he could try and talk to someone but who? His eyes scanned the crowd. To his dismay, most of the people surrounding him were scary oldies, and he was not willing to take the risk. He looked to his left, spotting a full head of hair. 

His gaze landed on you. You're young, he thinks— the white spots in your hair were less than those around him. He felt a little nervous, unsure of how to approach you, but he had no choice. This was his chance.

He coughed lightly, a test to see if you would notice him. 

No response. 

He tried again, this time a bit louder. 

Still nothing.

He began to get irritated, were you deaf or something? Shaking his irrational thoughts, Dae-ho got ready to fake cough again.

Then, out of nowhere, an old man in front of him turned and glared, sending a shiver down his spine. The male stopped, his face flushing. He needed to stop being a coward. He steeled himself, like the marine he was before doing it the right way.

He then stared at your unresponsive figure with intense, wide, and bulging eyes hoping that you would feel his intense stare and finally look at him. When that didn’t work, he began chanting “Hey! Look at me!” in his head just in case you were a mind reader. 

To nobody's surprise, his ‘plan’ flunked. Letting out an audible sigh, Dae-ho shook his head. He stopped being a wuss and garnered courage like a true marine. He should just approach you the right way, a single tap on the shoulder wouldn't hurt anybody right? Right.

As soon as his hand touched your shoulder, you ducked down and sneezed—an odd timing. He froze, unsure whether this was a sign to stop or if you were actually a mind reader and was avoiding him. But before he could pull his hand away, you reverted back to your original position— bumping into his outstretched hand.

He jumped back, startled. His cheeks flushed again as he realized he’d intruded on your space. In a sudden burst of nervous energy, he bowed deeply— a perfect ninety degrees, his hands clasped in front of him.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to... you see, I was feeling a little bored and wanted to talk to someone. Between you and me, I don’t want to talk to some old gray-haired people in debt. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you’re free to slap me and ignore me!”

He spoke in one long breath, the words tumbling out faster than he could control. Then, he froze, bracing himself—waiting for a slap, a harsh word, anything to tell him he had crossed a line. Or maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you to give him a sign that it was all okay. The silence that followed was suffocating, hanging between you like a heavyweight, neither of you dared to break.

When you didn’t respond, he began to doubt himself. Was this a joke? Was he imagining everything? Had he pushed too far?

And then—

“…Dae-ho…?”

The silence that was there from the beginning stretched even further as Dae-ho froze, his heart pounding. He could feel his chest tightening with every breath, his thoughts spinning in circles. Was this really happening?

He slowly lifted his head, praying, hoping that what he was thinking wasn’t true. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign that this was just some cruel illusion. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision, but it didn’t help. You were still there, staring back at him, just as real as the cold walls of the room around him.

“[Name]...”

How could this be real? The years apart, the silence, the pain—it had all carved its place deep inside you, wounds that never fully healed. And yet, here he was, standing before you like a ghost dragged from the past to haunt you. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

You stared at him, unable to look away, yet every second felt like a fresh wound. How could he just stand there, shaking and silent, as if you weren’t the one left to pick up the shattered pieces of your life when he walked away? Your chest tightened, the air suddenly too thick to breathe.

He looked so different, yet so heartbreakingly familiar. Those same eyes that used to meet yours with warmth now avoided your gaze like a coward. The same hands that once held yours trembled at his sides, as if they carried the weight of something unsaid.

You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers to the questions that had haunted you for years. Why did he leave? Why didn’t he say goodbye? The questions burned in your chest, but no words came. The silence between you was louder than any explanation he could give—louder than the ache of the years he left you to carry alone.

And yet, some small part of you hated yourself for hoping, for wanting him to say something that would make it all make sense. But as his lips parted and nothing came, his silence was louder than any excuse could ever be.

Cheers suddenly filled the room as the two of you looked away from each other. Looking at the scoreboard, you released a sigh of relief as O won, meaning the games would still proceed. 

Following the guards orders to disperse, you walked away as fast as you could. You needed to run away for a while, away from everyone, away from him. You weaved through the sea of players, ignoring the chaotic mix of relief and despair filling the room. Every step felt heavier, your mind still reeling from the sight of him. Why here? Why now?

Your chest ached. The large room offered little solace, the murmur of restless voices and distant footsteps a constant reminder of where you were. You sought refuge in the thin, scratchy blanket of your assigned bed, pulling it over yourself as if it could shield you from the weight pressing down on your chest.

Laying in a fetal position, you tried to steady your breathing, to stop the trembling in your hands. But his face—his eyes—kept flashing in your mind, a painful reminder of everything you thought you’d buried.

Anger simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. You clenched your fists, an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. But no amount of control could erase the gnawing ache in your chest.

“[Name]...”

The voice froze you in place. 

“Can we… talk?” His voice was quiet, almost pleading.

Under the covers, you exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to keep your tone steady. “What’s there to talk about, Dae-ho?”

His jaw tightened, and he took a cautious step closer to your bed. “I… I didn’t think I’d see you here. I didn’t think I’d see you again at all.”

“Neither did I,” you replied curtly. “And yet, here we are.”

He flinched at your words, guilt flashing in his eyes not that you could see it. “I know I owe you an explanation.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “An explanation? After all these years? After you disappeared without a word? You think I need that now, here of all places?”

His lips parted as if to argue, but he stopped himself. Instead, he looked down, his hands gripping the fabric of his jumpsuit. “I wanted to explain. I really did. But I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t know how?” you repeated, incredulous. “You didn’t know how to tell me you were leaving? That you were giving up on us? That you—”

Your voice cracked, and you stopped, swallowing the lump in your throat. You refused to let him hear you cry. Not here. Not now.

“I didn’t give up on you,” he said softly.

His words hung in the air, but they did nothing to soothe the ache inside you. You shook your head once more, your voice trembling. “You left me alone, Dae-ho. You walked away without a word, and you left me to deal with everything by myself. Don’t tell me you didn’t give up.”

Silence followed, thick and suffocating. You could feel his eyes on your figure under the covers, before hearing footsteps walk away. You didn’t expect much, knowing that all he does is run from his responsibilities. But why did it still hurt? 

As you went to collect your dinner, you couldn’t help but overhear familiar laughter. Laughter that you used to love listening to. Silently gazing at Dae-ho’s figure, you watch in silence as he makes small talk with a group of men in the corner of the room. A small smile crept up your face, even after all those years he still has his charming laugh. You moved your gaze to the guard as they handed you your food, with a small bow you thanked them before going back to your bed. 

Looking at him one more time, your eyes widened in surprise as a set of eyes clashed with yours. Thankfully, it wasn’t Dae-ho. It was 001. There was something in his stare that made you scared. Maybe Dae-ho told them about your history and now they were angry at you, either way, who were you to care? You broke eye contact first, setting your gaze elsewhere as you retreated back to your assigned bed. Little did you know Dae-ho was doing the same, looking at you with longing eyes every time you had your back turned from him.

The next day came quickly, the game even quicker. You convinced a group to let you join their team with your gonggi skills. They were reluctant at first but had no choice but to let you in as the timer was nearing its end. Your team went through the games with ease, everyone was a pro on the games— you included. 

As the guard placed the table in front of you, you and your team squatted, the familiar weight of the stones in your hands grounding you. It reminded you of something, something far simpler, back when you were young.

“The slowest will have to buy the winner dinner, deal?” you said with a playful grin, your voice filled with mischievous confidence as you laid out the challenge.

Dae-ho’s eyes widened, shaking his head dramatically. “That’s unfair! You only say that because you’re a pro at gonggi!” he shot back, his voice half-laughing and half-complaining, clearly trying to defend himself.

Currently, the two of you, still in your high school uniforms, are sprawled on the floor of your room, surrounded by an amusing mess of half-done activities. The afternoon had been a carefree escape from schoolwork and responsibilities, as you had decided to skip school for the day. Your parents were away, so you had the house all to yourselves.

The floor was scattered with papers, a few textbooks left open, and snacks you’d absentmindedly snacked on while getting lost in your own little world. Dae-ho’s hair was a chaotic mess of clips, ties, and failed attempts at creating something resembling style. 

Meanwhile, your face was painted with makeup. Your eyes were covered in uneven eyeshadow, and your lipstick had smudged onto your cheeks in a way that had you wondering if you'd even be able to wash it off later. It was ridiculous, but it was also perfect. There was no need for perfection when you were together, just moments of unfiltered fun. You didn’t mind looking silly—it was a shared experience, after all.

You leaned back on the floor, hands resting behind your head, watching him with an amused expression. He had always been competitive, and you knew he wouldn’t let this challenge slide without giving it his all. But you also knew he wouldn’t back down.

"You're just mad because I'm about to beat you,” you teased, raising an eyebrow and holding the gonggi stones in your hand. “I’ve got this in the bag."

Dae-ho let out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be defeated, but his eyes betrayed him—the challenge was on. “Fine. The loser buys the winner dinner.” he said, as the fire in his eyes burned brightly.

You smiled, leaning closer and placing the stones carefully in front of both of you. “You’re on,” you replied, your voice light but determined.

The game, which was just supposed to be a simple way to pass the time, had suddenly become a full-blown competition, complete with stakes. Dae-ho didn’t like losing, and you knew that meant he would give everything he had to win, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him.

With that, the tension between you both shifted. You could feel the energy change as you both focused on the stones in front of you, your hands hovering over them, ready to begin the game. The silly banter was still there, but now it was mixed with a more serious undercurrent—a challenge that was both fun and a little bit intense.

Dae-ho glanced at you once more, his expression playful but competitive, and you could see the slight smirk forming on his lips. “Get ready to buy me that dinner,” he said with mock confidence, ready to show you he was the better player.

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see about that, Dae-ho.”

And with that, the game began, the stones flying through the air as you both competed to see who could win the challenge, the promise of dinner hanging in the balance.

After breezing through the first rounds, you placed all the stones on top of your hand, heart racing. You nervously exhaled, forcing yourself to focus.

“I’m honestly jealous of your gonggi skills,” you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you sat beside Dae-ho at your favorite hotpot place, a small smile playing on your lips as you stirred your bowl of soup.

Dae-ho, who had just taken a sip from his drink, blinked at you in mock surprise. “You? Jealous of me? You’re the one who won!” he said with a playful glare, his tone lighthearted.

You laughed softly, shaking your head at him. “Not that part, silly! I always notice that you always catch all five stones with ease. Even if I’m fast, I still mess up once in a while.” You looked down at your half-eaten bowl, the warmth from the hotpot filling your chest, but it wasn’t just from the food—it was the company that made everything feel so right.

Dae-ho’s expression softened as he put down his chopsticks, giving you his full attention. He nodded thoughtfully, then smiled, and for a moment, you felt as if the world outside didn’t exist, just the two of you, sharing this simple, quiet moment together.

“Well, my lovely [nickname],” he said, his voice taking on that playful, teasing tone you knew so well. “I can always tell you a trick,” he continued, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “But it’ll cost you. My secrets aren’t free, you know.”

Your curiosity piqued, you tilted your head, giving him a playful. “Go on, then.”

Dae-ho’s smile widened as he turned his cheek toward you, tilting his head just enough to make it clear what he wanted. You giggled, rolling your eyes but giving in, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his left cheek.

He grinned, the sparkle in his eyes making your heart skip a beat, and without missing a beat, he pointed to the other side, silently asking for more. You couldn’t help but smile, kissing his right cheek just as lightly.

Then, Dae-ho tilted his head again, offering his forehead with that trademark mischievous smile. “And this one?” he asked, his eyes glinting with excitement.

You didn’t even hesitate, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his forehead, your heart fluttering in the simple affection. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the more you kissed him, the more the world around you faded away.

He stretched his hand out next, offering the back of his left hand with an expectant grin. You chuckled at how silly this game was becoming, but you still kissed it gently, your heart swelling with warmth. His grin only grew wider, and before you knew it, he was extending his right hand, offering it up for another kiss.

You kissed it too, your heart fluttering again at how effortlessly he could make everything feel so special. Each little moment, each silly gesture, you loved it all.

Finally, with that signature grin of his, Dae-ho turned fully toward you, his eyes sparkling with playfulness. “And this one?” he asked, tilting his face toward yours, the question hanging in the air like an invitation.

Without even thinking, you closed the space between you and kissed his lips, a soft, lingering kiss that felt full of promise and affection. The moment was so pure, so simple, that it left you breathless in the best way. Nothing mattered but the two of you, sharing this quiet, tender connection.

Dae-ho smiled against your lips, his arms subtly drawing you closer as he pulled back just slightly, a lovestruck expression on his face. “You’re the best, [nickname].” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he nuzzled you gently. His voice was soft and full of affection, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with warmth.

You leaned in, your voice teasing. “So? What’s the trick?”

Dae-ho let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated but still smiling. “Can’t I have a lovely moment with you?” he asked, his tone light and affectionate.

“Dae-ho.” you said with a small laugh, nudging him playfully.

“Fine, fine! You’re a party pooper!” he joked, giving you a nudge back before getting serious. He shifted slightly, sitting up straighter and showing you a more focused expression. “Alright, listen carefully.” He mimicked the motions as he spoke. “What I do is first calm myself down. Inhale... and exhale.” He demonstrated the breathing technique, his chest rising and falling slowly. 

He paused before looking at you expectantly. Rolling your eyes, you copied his movement. Inhale and exhale.

Satisfied, he continued. “Once you find your peace, you put all your might in your palm so the stones don’t fall. Strong foundation.”

You nodded, watching him carefully. “Got it,” you said, your gaze fixed on his hands as he continued with his instructions.

He smiled, clearly pleased by your attention. “Then you throw your hand upwards—just right. Not too low, not too high,” he said, raising one hand and showing you the perfect motion. “Count one...” He paused dramatically, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Count one,” you repeated, laughing softly at how serious he was being, yet how cute he looked while teaching you.

“Then catch!” 

You threw your hand up. It felt natural. It felt right. The stones landed, and you caught them all in one smooth motion.

“Hey! I caught it on the first try!” You grinned, excitement rushing through you. You looked up, expecting to see Dae-ho’s proud smile, the one that always made your heart race.

But instead, you met the cold, expressionless face of a guard. Reality hit like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t Dae-ho. This wasn’t your favorite hotpot place.

Your heart twisted, the warmth you replaced by the emptiness of this place. You tried to smile, but it felt hollow. The distant cheers of your teammates did nothing to drown out the silence in your mind.

You couldn’t shake the memory, his teasing smile, his quiet words, the way his lips brushed against yours. Those were moments you could never go back to. As you moved on to the next station, the sting of that memory lingered, sharp and painful. The sweetness was gone. It was just you, alone in this game, with no place for memories of simpler times.

Everything was a blur after that, your mind occupied by what happened during the second game. Gonggi was something you always bonded over, and that game brought unwanted memories back. It got to a point wherein the way you’d always made decisions, small or big, was by playing gonggi. Where to eat? Play gonggi. Who’s paying the bill? Gonggi. 

But now, as you lay at your bed, staring at the ceiling, it wasn’t the same. Your mind wandered back to that moment, remembering his smile, the way his eyes would soften when he looked at you. That warmth, that sense of belonging, was gone. The past felt distant, like a dream you couldn’t hold onto anymore.

You closed your eyes, trying to push the memory away. Suddenly, the light went out. 

The light went out? That wasn’t right.

You opened one eye and saw Dae-ho standing above you, looking down at you with that nervous, familiar expression.

“Congrats, [Name]. I knew you could do it.” he said softly.

You looked up at him, emotions swirling in your chest. “Congrats also, Dae-ho.” you replied quietly. 

You stared at him as the weight of everything hung heavy in the air between you. You had so many emotions running through your veins—hurt, betrayal, confusion, anger—and yet, here he was, standing in front of you, trying to explain himself, trying to make sense of everything.

“[Name]... Please, talk to me.” he repeated, his voice soft but desperate.

You didn’t move at first. The space between you, filled with so many unspoken words. Finally, you stood up, leading him to a quiet corner between the bed frames, away from the chaos. The moment felt strangely intimate, but so far removed from anything you could have ever imagined.

Dae-ho was the first to break the silence, his voice shaking with the weight of his confession. “I didn’t want to leave, [Name]. I didn’t... but I had no choice.” He paused, his face twisted with guilt as he rubbed his hands together nervously.

“My father...” His voice cracked as he spoke, his words thick with regret. “He was... always trying to control me. Pushing me into things I didn’t want. He never let me make my own decisions. But when it came to you... he saw how much I cared. He saw how soft I was because of you, and he hated it. He thought I wasn’t strong enough to survive—how I wasn't becoming a real man, so he sent me away. He made me join the Marines. He didn’t even let me choose. I tried to fight him. I tried to say no, but he didn’t care.”

You felt your heart break all over again. “But... Why didn’t you fight harder for us? Why didn’t you try harder to stay? To... tell me?” The words were out before you could stop them, and they stung more than you’d expected.

“I... I couldn’t,” he whispered. “He had me. I thought if I left, if I did what he said, it would all be over. That he’d leave me alone. But when I came back, you were gone. I couldn’t find you. I looked for you everywhere, [Name], but you and your family were gone. And I thought... I thought I lost you forever. And I couldn’t fix it.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. “But you didn’t even try to find me, Dae-ho. You just... disappeared. I waited for you. I thought I was worth waiting for, but you made me feel the  opposite. You just left, and I had to pick up the pieces of my life without you.”

“Please don’t say that. You are worth fighting for [Name].”

His eyes filled with sorrow, and he reached out for you, but you pulled back slightly, not ready for his touch just yet. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I could make it right when I came back, but... it wasn’t the same. And now I’m afraid I’ve lost you for good.”

Your chest tightened, and you fought to keep your emotions in check. “You didn’t lose me, Dae-ho. If anything, I still think about you. Every street I walk, every place I visit. I always tried to find any sign of you. You just… you never gave me a chance to be part of your life anymore. I can’t just go back to how things were. I can’t pretend everything’s okay, because it’s not.”

“I understand,” Dae-ho said quietly, his voice laced with sincerity. “I know you’ve been through so much. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you before, but I’m here now. Let me make it right. Please…”

He paused, swallowing hard before speaking again, as if the weight of his words was too heavy to bear. “If you just vote to go home, we can leave all this behind. We don’t have to keep playing. We can go back to the way things were. We can be free. We can live together.”

His words hit you like a punch to the stomach, leaving you breathless. You couldn’t wrap your mind around what he was asking. He wanted you to vote to go home? That’s all it took? To end this nightmare?

You took a step back, your heart hammering in your chest. The sudden flood of emotions was overwhelming—confusion, anger, hurt, all rolled into one. “Is that what you think this is about, Dae-ho? You think you can just tell me to vote to go home and everything will magically go back to normal? That we’ll just go back to living in some fairy tale together?”

His face faltered with guilt, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The words were already tumbling out, and the anger was building with each second. “You have no idea what it’s like for me out there. I don’t have anything left. No family. No safety. No way out. If I leave without the money, I’ll be dead before I even make it out of the game. The people who own me—they’ll come for me. They’ll end me.”

You couldn’t stop the rise of panic and fury in your voice. “You think voting to go home is going to fix everything? Do you think that’ll save me from what’s out there? You think that’s going to protect me?”

You were shaking now, your words louder, sharper with each passing second. “I’m not here by choice. I didn’t sign up for this game to have some fun. I’m here because I have no other option. I need the money. I have to win. I don’t have the luxury of walking away. If I don’t make it, I’m dead. They’ll take everything I have left. They’ll take my life. And you want me to just throw that away?”

His face went pale, his hands trembling as he reached out, but you stepped back, your emotions running too high. You were drowning in your own fear, your own anger, and he was standing there, asking for something you couldn’t give. Not now. Not when your very existence was on the line.

“I’m not going to die for you to feel like you’ve done something good,” you spat, your voice cold and full of finality. “I’ll keep playing. I’ll keep fighting. I’ll keep voting O if that’s what it takes to stay alive. Because I don’t have the luxury to just quit. I don’t have the luxury to go home. If I die here, then I die here. But at least I had a chance. A chance to keep living.”

You could see the regret flooding his face now, the guilt in his eyes clear as day. But it didn’t matter. You had already crossed the line, said everything you needed to say. The wound had already been made, and nothing would heal it now.

“They took everything from me,” you whispered, voice cracking with the weight of the confession. “I don’t have anything left. This game, this nightmare is all I have. If I leave without any money, without anything... they’ll take me. They’ll take my life.”

His expression was full of pain now. The words hit him hard, and you saw the guilt swirling inside him. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came. You saw the regret in his eyes, the apology he couldn’t voice—but it was too little, too late.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered finally, his voice thick with regret. “I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know. I didn’t know it was this bad. I didn’t know you were fighting for your life.”

You shook your head slowly, stepping back from him. “You didn’t know? You never bothered to ask. You didn’t care enough to understand what I was going through. You just assumed everything would be fine, that we could go back to normal. But you didn’t ask, Dae-ho. You didn’t care.”

His face crumpled with the realization of what you were saying, and the weight of your words hit him like a ton of bricks. But you didn’t care. Not now. Not when you were holding on to the one thing that mattered to you right now—your will to survive.

“I’m sorry, Dae-ho,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips, but full of emotion. “But I care about surviving. I care about living. And if I have to vote O, if I have to keep playing to do that, then that’s what I’ll do.”

For a long moment, you stood there, facing each other in the silence, your hearts both full of unsaid things. But the anger slowly began to fade, replaced by a deep sadness, a sorrow that neither of you could fix.

He stepped closer to you, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry... I never wanted this for you. But I’ll always be here, [Name], even if you hate me for it.”

You looked at him one last time, the weight of everything you had said sinking in. And for the first time in a long time, you let the tears fall—not from anger, but from the overwhelming fear of it all. The fear of what your life had become, of how far you’d fallen, of the choices you had to make that never felt right.

Dae-ho stared at you as you quietly wept, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. Without a second thought, he reached out, pulling you into his arms. He wrapped you in the comfort of his embrace, guiding your head to rest against his chest, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

He didn’t speak at first, just held you tightly, as if trying to shield you from the world, from everything that had happened, and everything you feared. His hand gently rubbed your back in slow, soothing circles, offering what comfort he could in that moment.

“I’m sorry… I know I can’t take away all the pain,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m here, [Name]. I won’t leave you. You don’t have to go through this alone anymore. Please... just let me be here for you.”

You clung to him, not knowing if you wanted him to fix everything, but just needing the solace, the warmth that came with knowing he was still here. Still trying. You didn’t know what the future held, or if you could ever truly forgive him for the past, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to feel something you hadn’t in so long—comfort, even if it was fleeting.

He tightened his hold on you, letting you cry, never pushing you away. “I’ll always be here. I promise.”

You didn’t know how long it had been, but eventually, the tears started to slow. The tightness in your chest eased just a little, and you found yourself breathing a bit easier. Dae-ho, still holding you gently, never let go. He simply let you rest against him, giving you space to process everything, even if that meant staying silent for the moment.

You looked at him, your chest heavy with everything you’d just let out. “I’m sorry too,” you murmured, voice low and shaky. “I... I didn’t mean to lash out like that. I was just... I don’t know. I was scared. I couldn’t—couldn’t bear the thought of losing everything. But I shouldn’t have said those things.”

Dae-ho shook his head softly, his fingers brushing your cheek again. “No... I deserved it. I made you carry too much, and I never gave you the chance to say how you really felt. I was so focused on my own guilt, I didn’t see how much I was hurting you.”

The weight of the words sank in, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek, though this one wasn’t filled with anger—it was filled with a sadness you hadn’t let yourself fully feel until now. “We both messed up,” you whispered, the ache in your heart growing.

Dae-ho’s gaze softened, his hand gently squeezing yours. “But I’ll try to make it right. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll keep trying, [Name]. I’ll stay by your side, no matter what.”

You took a shaky breath, finding comfort in the sincerity of his words. “I don’t know where we go from here, but... I can’t pretend like it’s all fine. I need time.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just... sorry. For everything.”

The air between you was thick with unspoken apologies, regrets, and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, you could both find a way to heal from this. You both had a long road ahead, a game to survive. But for now, the silence was no longer heavy with tension. Instead, it was filled with a quiet understanding, one that neither of you had expected to find, but one that was slowly, carefully beginning to piece things together.

"This time, the vote will begin with Player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote."

The moment the announcement was made, you felt a cold shiver run down your spine. Voting had begun. This time, you were going first—before Dae-ho. He stood beside you, his presence steady and calming, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. His hand brushed your back, the soothing gesture almost feeling out of place in this chaotic, life-or-death situation.

“Choose what you need,” Dae-ho whispered, his voice soft but full of sincerity. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t be mad.”

His words settled over you like a gentle blanket, but they couldn’t remove the weight of the decision you had to make. To survive, to keep moving forward, you knew you had to vote for O. You had to keep playing if you wanted a chance at surviving, but even as you stood in front of the voting machine, you felt a sickening sense of dread.

Was it really worth it? Pushing yourself, forcing the belief that survival was your only option, knowing the outside world would swallow you whole. What was the point of living if the only person who ever made you feel truly alive has always been Dae-ho? The thought echoed in your mind, and the walls of the room suddenly felt like they were closing in around you. Dae-ho had become your anchor in this madness—your reason for pushing through.

But now, you had to choose. You needed to choose for your own survival.

Your finger hovered over the button for O, but then you thought about everything you’d been through, everything you’d sacrificed already. At that moment, it was no longer just about survival. It was about the life you had left to live. You didn’t want to keep going without him.

X.

You slammed your hand down on the button, your choice made in an instant. The harsh reality of it stung as you tore off the patch you had placed on your jacket earlier, replacing it with a new one. As you made your way to the X side of the room, your heart felt heavy, but there was a strange sense of finality to it. You have made your decision.

You couldn’t help but look over at Dae-ho. The surprise on his face was so pure, so raw. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape, like a fish caught out of water, and the shock in his gaze hit you harder than you expected.

Despite the tension and the gravity of the moment, you found yourself quietly laughing at him, unable to hold it in. The absurdity of it all—of choosing to walk away from everything that had kept you going—made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. God, you felt like a fool. After your dramatic show earlier, how you had confidently claimed that you would continue voting O, ready to survive, ready to keep playing. Yet here you were, choosing X, choosing to stop. Choosing him.

Dae-ho just stood there for a moment, still processing, before going up the platform to vote. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, as if he were trying to piece together what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him. The moment was so surreal, so at odds with everything you’d said before. 

You watched him, heart hammering in your chest as he stood at the voting machine. His back was turned to you, but you could almost feel the confusion radiating off him. His hesitation was palpable, and you wondered if he understood. If he saw why you made the decision you did.

The sound of his vote pressing echoed in the silence, a soft click that seemed too loud for the room. He immediately walked to where you stood, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Why... why did you choose X?”

The answer was too simple, too complicated, and maybe too painful to say out loud. Instead, you gave him a small smile, one that held so many unsaid things. “Dae-ho, I’ll always choose you.”

In the end, your vote didn’t matter. Since O won by a landslide, the next game was inevitable. But for the first time in days, or maybe even years, you found yourself smiling—a real, genuine smile—as you were introduced to Dae-ho’s little group. You exchanged pleasantries, introduced yourselves, and felt something warm stir inside you.

The following day came quickly, and with it, the next game. One moment, you were lying in bed, your mind running wild with the uncertainty of what was to come. Next, you were on a spinning platform, waiting for the music to stop. Your eyes immediately sought out Dae-ho, and when you met his gaze, he reached for your hand, gripping it tightly, as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, a promise in his words. “I won’t let go.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I know.”

The rounds passed, too smoothly, almost disturbingly so. You all survived the first four rounds with ease.

But everything was about to change. 

7.

“Five women, and two men. Go!” Gi-hun’s commanding voice cut through the noise, demanding attention. Without hesitation, 007 shot his hand into the air. “I’ll go with my mother!” he announced, stepping forward. Gi-hun nodded, relieved to have a volunteer. He scanned the group again, waiting for the next person to step up.

Dae-ho raised his hand, his voice strong as he called out, “We’ll go!” He pulled you closer to him, offering a small smile that was laced with worry. His eyes betrayed his calm demeanor, revealing the weight of what was happening. The air around you both felt heavy with the uncertainty of the situation. Still, you clung to each other, walking together toward the door.

Your group of seven—007, 149, 120, 095, Jun-hee, you, and Dae-ho—ran toward the nearest empty room. The sound of your hurried footsteps echoed in the tense silence. But just as you were about to step inside, something caught your eye and made your heart drop.

Player 095, frail and struggling, was being shoved aside by a group of players. Seeing her so helpless, you couldn’t just stand by. Without thinking, you yanked your hand from Dae-ho’s grasp and rushed to her side.

Dae-ho’s heart skipped a beat the moment he felt the loss of your hand. Panic surged through him. Where did you go? He scanned the chaos around him, his eyes frantic as he searched for you in the crowded room. His heart tightened when he saw you helped 095 into the room, making sure she was safe. He could see the determination in your eyes as you ensured her well-being, but once it was your turn to come into the room, to rejoin him, disaster struck.

A group of four players, each desperately fighting for their own survival, barreled into you.

The impact was brutal. Your body was slammed to the ground with overwhelming force. Everything around you seemed to blur and slow down as you hit the floor, your breath knocked from your chest in a violent rush. A sharp wave of pain shot through your body—your limbs aching, your head spinning—but strangely, you couldn't feel it all at once. The shock of the fall seemed to disconnect you from your body, like you were floating in a painful haze.

In that split second, time seemed to stretch out. You felt a sudden sense of numbness as your body tried to process the damage, and your heart raced as you struggled to breathe. Your vision blurred, and for a moment, you feared that you wouldn’t be able to get up again. But then, the rush of adrenaline kicked in.

Determination surged through you like a lightning bolt. You couldn't afford to stay down. You had to survive.

You pushed yourself off the ground, ignoring the throbbing pain in your limbs, and scrambled to your feet. Gritting your teeth, you ran with every ounce of strength you had left, your focus fixed on the door. You had to get inside—it was the only chance left. The room was just a few feet away now, but each step felt like an eternity as you sprinted, your legs shaking with exertion and fear. Every part of you screamed for rest, but you couldn't stop. Not yet.

"[Name]! Let’s play Mingle!" Dae-ho’s voice rang out with excitement, pulling you out of your thoughts. You raised an eyebrow, already knowing his playful nature.

“With just the two of us?” you asked, teasing him. A grin tugged at your lips despite yourself, knowing that whatever he had planned would likely be a mix of fun and absurdity.

“Well...” Dae-ho scratched the back of his neck, pretending to think deeply, but the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away. He was already scheming.

It was your third anniversary together, a day you both decided to celebrate in your usual style: by skipping class and spending it alone in your room. Both of you were still wearing your high school uniforms—uniforms that no longer felt like the serious attire they were supposed to be. The two of you had spent countless afternoons like this, laughing and simply enjoying each other's company, without a care in the world.

“I’ve got it!” Dae-ho suddenly exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he dashed to your bed. He scooped up a handful of stuffed toys with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Let’s use our children!” he declared, holding them up like he had just discovered the most brilliant idea.

You stared at him, your laughter bubbling up instantly. "Our children? Really, tiger?" you chuckled, wiping away the tears that had already begun to form from laughing too hard.

"Hey, don’t laugh! This is serious!" he protested, feigning offense, but you could see the twinkle in his eyes that told you he was only pretending to be upset. He adjusted the toys in his arms, a determined look on his face.

“Alright, fine,” you replied, still laughing but wiping your eyes. “Let’s play.” You were already game—who could resist when Dae-ho was this excited?

Dae-ho carefully arranged the toys in front of you both, giving each one a position with a level of care that made it clear he was taking this game very seriously. “Okay. For this round… Three!” he announced dramatically, holding his hands out in front of him like he was preparing to start a battle.

You didn’t even wait for him to finish before snatching up two of the nearest toys. His jaw dropped in mock betrayal, and he huffed loudly, feigning offense. "Not fair! You should partner with me. Always!" he said, acting like you had broken some sacred rule.

You stuck your tongue out at him, teasing. “Stop being a sore loser! I’m just playing by your rules.”

"Fine," he grumbled. He pouted dramatically, a little over-the-top for someone so competitive. He then scurried around the room, gathering two more toys to prepare for the next round.

The game continued in the same playful vein, with the toys being eliminated one by one. The room filled with the sound of laughter, teasing, and mock outrage as each round got more dramatic. The toys “lost” in ways that made no sense, their plush bodies being thrown to the side in exaggerated defeat.

"For this round,” Dae-ho said, his voice suddenly turning serious. “Two!” He gave you a look, as if to challenge you to keep up with him.

You smirked, ready to grab him this time. But before you could react, he swooped down and grabbed the last remaining toy, holding it close to his chest with a triumphant grin. “Hey!” you cried out in mock outrage, throwing your hands up.

"Sore loser!" he teased, clearly pleased with his victory.

You crossed your arms, pretending to sulk. “Whatever.” you muttered, rolling your eyes for effect.

Dae-ho chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. He set the toy down, then knelt in front of you. “Wait, wait, don’t be mad!” he said, holding the toy up to his face like a little puppet. He moved its tiny arms in a dramatic fashion, as if it was trying to “walk” toward you.

"Eomma! Please don’t be angry at Appa! Pleaseee!” he said in a high-pitched, exaggerated voice that made you burst out laughing.

Your faux anger crumbled immediately, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. He was ridiculous—and that was one of the many reasons you loved him.

Still holding the toy, Dae-ho slowly lowered it from his face, a more tender look in his eyes. You hadn’t noticed at first, but there was a delicate necklace hanging from the toy’s tiny paw. Your breath hitched as he gently removed the necklace and held it out to you.

"Here," he said softly, his voice unexpectedly gentle. You could feel the warmth in his words as he looked at you with such sincerity. Without warning, he leaned forward and clasped the necklace around your neck. The touch of his fingers against your skin sent a shiver through you. "Happy anniversary, [Name]."

For a moment, your heart skipped a beat as the rush of emotion hit you unexpectedly. His gesture felt like everything—a simple, yet deeply meaningful way of showing how much he cared. You blinked back the sudden welling of emotion in your chest.

Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips in gratitude. You then buried your face in his shoulder, hiding the emotions that threatened to spill over.

“Thank you.” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin.

Dae-ho chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, comforting hug. “Anything for you.”

In that moment, everything else faded away. There was just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth, sharing a quiet, simple happiness that felt bigger than any words could express. Time seemed to slow down, and you didn’t want to think about anything else.

As you pulled back, your laughter bubbled up again, light and carefree. You couldn’t resist teasing him once more. “You’re still a sore loser, though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dae-ho replied, rolling his eyes but still grinning. “But you love me anyway.”

You smiled, your gaze softening as you looked at him with affection. “I do. Now help me with this necklace!”

Your hand stretched toward the door, the cold metal just within reach. 

Then everything went silent.

[staytinyville]

WHAT'S THIS?

↣ Summary: You were always different from those of Christmas Town. Something was missing inside of you that you needed to find. Have you possibly gone daffy?

↣ Characters/Pairing: Ragdoll!Hongjoong x Elf!Reader

↣ Genre: Smut, fluff

↣ AU/Trope info: Nightmare Before Christmas!AU, Monster!Au, Jacob’s ladder deal with penis, 

↣ Word Count:

↣ Warnings: Soft sex, Christmas/Halloween Fluff, love at first sight

↣ A/N: To the ever great @catkyunie for Secret Santa. I had another thing planned but ultimately decided on this because I watched the movie four times in a weekend. I love the soundtrack so much man. Also I’ve had the idea to make a Nightmare Before Christmas AU for a while now but it wasn’t this story exactly. I love the movie so much so I hope it comes out as well I hope it did. 

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @cromernet , @pirateeznet , @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

Never go near the Holiday Trees. 

For as long as one could remember, the elves were told that. It was centuries ago when the rule was brought up after a very troublesome Halloween town citizen decided they wanted to take over Christmas. 

Things have changed–the children have changed. There was no better holiday compared to the rest. Each person had their favorite, and so the ones in charge didn’t bother with the other holidays for fear of being less than happy. 

But that didn’t mean those who were in charge of the holidays still couldn’t feel as though there was something missing within themselves. 

You could hear the soft crunch of your reindeer companion following behind you, bleating small sounds as it found berries and grass to eat. It happily continued to munch while you frowned deeply at the prospect of walking through a foot of snow. 

It bothered you. You could see how all the other elves were easily able to navigate themselves through the snow on light feet–not sinking down to end up buried in it. It was your fault, you figured. Not having the simple little magic everyone else had. 

You couldn’t make toys. Couldn’t bring joy to the children who you had to watch over every once in a while. You couldn’t even make cookies that somehow every elf knew how to make from scratch. You were the odd ball in the town full of ridiculously happy citizens that mocked you every chance they could. 

Well, maybe they didn’t mock you because that would be very naughty of them. But you did feel bad everytime they tried to teach you something and you just couldn’t get it. There was something missing. And year after year, it hurt to see Christmas come and go without your help. 

Your ears twitch as you trudge through the thick snow trying to find more pine cones to fill your family tree with. You were wrapped in double scarves, your ears and nose covered. The snow was thinning out the further in you went and by then your legs were so tired you were half tempted to fall over into the snow to rest for a moment. 

You sniffled, nose starting to run but you used your sleeve to brush it away. By the time you realized it, the snow had cleared completely all of a sudden which caused you to trip over your own feet and fall flat onto the forest floor. 

“Oof.” You groaned, shuffling out of the snowy area and onto the dirt. 

Pine needles stuck to your face as you shuffled yourself to stand up, coming to sit on your knees and look around the clearing. 

You felt a shiver go through your body as you stared up at the tree that had a large pumpkin door on its trunk. You glanced around for a moment more, seeing the rest of the holiday doors waiting for someone to open them. You finally got up onto your legs, the jingle bells on your feet and hat making a sound each time you moved. 

You knew exactly where you were and found it odd that you were even here. The location of these trees are only known to the Claus’s, so to be able to reach this place was something you couldn’t fathom. 

Each door was different from the last. Some brighter than others while some just seemed so plain. The pumpkin with the large grin stared back at you as you reached it last. It’s smile was dark, almost a pitch black that had you losing yourself within it. Each jagged edge looked like it would prick you if you dared to touch it. 

And yet you still found yourself reaching for the door knob nose, muscles straining just a bit as the knob seemed stuck for a moment. But it finally moved after a moment, startling you with how easy it was to pull the door open.

It was even darker inside, a gust of wind blowing through causing red and orange leaves to fall out. Your nose crinkled at the smell of black licorice. But you still stuck your head further in, trying to make out something inside the abyss of the tree. 

Suddenly you could hear a humming. A sound that went together to form some kind of lullaby that almost put you to sleep. You strained your ears to hear more of it, trying to make out the words. 

“Sometimes you gotta move forward. Just take it step by step. And then you’ll notice you’ve found your place…”

Just a bit more, you told yourself, moving closer. 

Just a bit more ended up being too much though. Before you realized it, your little jingle bells tinkled one last time before everything turned black. 

It was a whirlwind of bright lights and empty space that you felt like you were floating in. Gravity did not exist as you fell. You wanted to grab onto something but the only thing it seemed like you could do was scream into the void. 

It was a quick journey. Not even half a minute as you felt a force suddenly drag you towards a direction. Your back hit against a surface before it vanished and you fell through. You let out a loud gasp, bright colors filling your vision as you were thrown into a much warmer place.

Before you tumbled onto the floor, you quickly caught sight of the sharp edges of a christmas tree shape on the trunk of a tree. You rolled over, grunting as you landed on your back, your legs falling down quickly and your body becoming exhausted. 

You took in a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. It was a bit but you slowly allowed yourself to feel the ground around you trying to make sure you were in fact on some kind of surface. 

Turning your head from side to side, you noticed you were back in the clearing of holiday trees. Only this time there was no Halloween one. Raising slowly to sit up, you took notice of how there was no snow covering the ground or pine trees that were losing needles. 

Instead the trees were barren almost, the leaves left on the branches ranging from a yellow to brown color. Most of them seemed to be on the floor, waiting to be picked up. 

There was a sudden squirming feeling under your legs, like an animal was trying to get out from under you. You frowned, scooting back and pulling your knees up to grab at whatever it was. It wasn’t furry, nor was it that large. It wiggled around, your eyebrows pinching together as you felt multiple limbs. 

“What’s this?” You asked yourself, pulling the object out from under you. 

When you finally grasped it fully, your eyes went wide as it suddenly grabbed ahold of your hand. Pulling it out, the thing hanging from your hand was another hand. However it was severed at the wrist. 

“Oh my Kringle!” You screamed, throwing the hand away from you. 

You gasped louder as it began to wiggle and suddenly upright itself. It scurried away behind a tree, catching your attention as something seemed to bend down to grab it. Whatever it was shuffled back from view, their foot being the last to be hidden. 

Tilting your head in confusion you realized it was a person who was standing on the other side. The voice you heard earlier was suddenly starting to make sense, so you gradually became more curious. 

“I know you’re there.” You called out, crawling closer to the tree. 

You sighed when they didn’t move nor say anything. You thought to yourself for a moment, thinking back to how the person singing felt so sad. 

“The song you were singing–are you okay?”

“Of course I am.” They quickly spoke up. 

Your eyebrows shot up, smiling to yourself that you got them to speak. “It didn’t sound like you were.” You continued. “Are you going to come out?”

“You are not from Halloween Town.” He told you. 

“I’m from Christmas Town.” You shook your head, the bells jingling from the top of your hat. “A bit much isn’t it?” You giggled, wiggling your feet with the same bells. 

He scoffed playfully. “Just a bit.” 

“You have an amazing voice. I wish to hear more of it, please.” You crawled closer to the tree. “Will you please come out?” 

You could hear them shuffling around in contemplation. It took a moment but slowly they walked out one foot after the other. It was something out of a fairytale seeing him for the first time. 

You began to hum for some reason, hearing the ring of a jingle bell go off in your ear. He was deliberate in the way he walked. He was careful, but still it looked graceful. The first thing that caught your attention though, were the stitches that stretched across his mouth. 

“You’re stitches–do they hurt?” You asked quietly, coming to a stand. 

You walked closer to him, hands twitching at your side as you wanted to reach up and touch him. 

“No.” He spoke up, watching you intently. 

You raised your hands, moving them closer to his face. But you caught yourself, stopping as you realized it would be rude to just touch him. 

“May I?’ You asked quietly, waiting for his reply. 

He looked down at your raised hands, your curious eyes on his scars. “Sure.”

You lightly skimmed your fingers across his mouth. The tips of your longer fingers touched at his lips while they moved across the bumpy patches. You were scared of hurting him, so you didn’t try pressing them harder into his skin when your curiosity peaked at how the skin parted and created a hole. You wondered if they would open up, your hand passing through his cheek. 

When you looked up at his eyes, you found him staring at something near the side of your head. Your large pointed ears twitched at his stare, causing him to flinch just the tiniest bits. His hands shook at his side, almost coming up. 

“You can go ahead.” You told him, moving your head to the side to allow him the space to touch your ears. 

He tentatively reached up, fingers grazing the shell of your ear just as yours touched his stitches. He started at the bottom before smoothly gliding upwards. It wasn’t until they began to touch the tips of your ears that you suddenly felt a shiver go down your spine. 

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes fluttering shut as your lips pressed together. He suddenly pulled back from you, your own hand falling from his face. 

“Sorry.” He quickly said, waiting for your reply. 

“It’s okay.” You beamed up at him. “They’re just sensitive.”

“Hongjoong!”

Both of you suddenly turned around, hearing the call. 

The man’s eyes went wide, suddenly grabbing you and pushing you back towards the Christmas Tree. 

“You have to go.”

“What? Why?” You questioned, looking around trying to find whoever had called.

“You are not supposed to be here. We are not supposed to go to other holidays.”

He continued, opening the door and about to shove you through until you stopped yourself. 

“But–your singing.” You quietly said. “I really loved it.”

He paused, lips pressing together. His eyes twinkled almost, as if he could he would be blushing from your compliment. 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He told you softly. 

“Joong!” 

You suddenly turned around, ready to be pushed back into the tree but you had something to ask him first. 

“You have to go now.”

“Will I see you again?” You asked, hoping he would say yes. 

He seemed stunned for a moment, looking back to where the sound of rustling leaves were heard. 

“Come tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

Your lips pulled up into a smile, feeling something warm fill your chest. Just as someone was about to enter the clearing, you felt the suction of the tree pulling you back in. 

“Goodbye.” You heard one last moment before falling. 

**

“Oh he was amazing, Mrs Claus!” You sighed, picking up the tinsel the old lady wanted to move. “He was so devastatingly pretty. Nothing could compare to him. And-And his singing! So hauntingly beautiful. It was alluring in such a way that left me breathless.”

“It sounds like you're in love, dear.” The jolly ole’ woman hummed, shaking around as she sprinkled something on some cookies. 

“You really think so?” You smiled bashfully, looking down at the gingerbread man you were decorating. 

You looked down at the cookie, eyebrows pulling up at the smirk the cookie seemed to be sporting. It have little triangles at it’s lips, the red icing popping out. Black icing covered it’s forehead in a line, stitches being show as though it had been put together. 

Looking up you noticed Mrs. Claus turning around with another batch, quickly shoving the sweet into your mouth to prevent her from seeing it. While you were too worried someone would catch on to your secret, you hadn’t even noticed that the cookie was created to perfection.

You could hear the other elves giggling at your antics.  

“Tell me, do you feel a warmth that comes from inside?” The old lady continued grinning. 

You swallowed before contemplating her question. Before long you realized she had been right, a soft smile falling on your lips as you thought about Hongjoong. 

“I've never felt so good before. This empty place inside of me is filling up.” You spoke quietly. 

“That's a good thing dear. No more worries.”

You decorated another batch of cookies, too preoccupied to even notice that you were creating some kinds of monsters along the men. But you were in the clouds, thinking about the man who you had come across. The elves only looked at you oddly, but didn’t make a comment because they could see that you were not about to answer. 

You continued on your way, out of the kitchen area. Just as you opened the door though, you flinched at the four men who were standing on the other side with wide grins on their faces. Well a wide grin on one of their faces. 

“Why are you just standing there?” You asked them. 

“We know where you went.” Wooyoung the first to always say something told you.  

You pushed them aside, continuing on your journey back to your house. “Where did I go?”

“You went through the tree.” Jongho spoke up. 

You tensed up but tried not to show it. 

“The Halloween tree.” Yeosang prattled. 

“Is he a monster?” Yunho asked. 

“Who?” You played dumb. 

“The man you're in love with.” Wooyoung giggled. 

“I'm not in love.” You shook your head, opening the door to the kitchen shop and walking out into the cold air. 

“We beg to differ. What is he?” Yunho asked. 

“He's nothing.” You spoke up without thought. 

“So there is someone.”

“No.” You stopped turning to look at them. “Drop it. There is no one.”

“You told Mrs Claus there was, though.” Yeosang said. 

“Were you eavesdropping?” You glared at all of them.

“We always do.” Jongho shrugged. “How do you think we knew Holly was secretly seeing Tinsel?”

You glared at the boys, feeling ticked with their wide grins. 

“I'm going home.” You declared, turning around. “Do not follow me!”

“Well when they say it like that I want to follow them.”

Yeosang kept his eyes on your retreating figure. More so the way you were walking through the snow without any trouble at all. They were all so used to you sinking in the snow and complaining about the cold that he was quick to notice you did none of those the moment they were outside. 

“Did you notice they didn’t sink into the snow?” Yeosang spoke up softly, watching as your feet seemed lightweight in the snow. 

“You think they’re finally getting into the Christmas spirit?” Yunho asked his friend. 

They thought about how you were talking about someone who seemed to have caught your attention. There was only one way to describe the way you had told Mrs. Claus about the person. The adjectives you had used were not ones they were used to and it was clear from where this person had come from. 

But whoever it was that had caught your attention, they started something that you were in desperate need of. 

“It’s some kind of spirit.”

**

It was a few days later when the four elves were finally able to follow you into the woods. They were pushing and shoving each other as each time they would lift a foot, their bells would jingle. But you were still none the wiser as you had something occupying your mind. 

They stilled for a moment behind a tree, almost falling onto the ground that seemed to be devoid of snow. Peaking over the other, they tried their best to see where you were going. And when you pulled open a door in one of the trees they were quick to understand. 

“They aren’t actually going there are they?” Yunho asked with wide eyes. 

You climbed the small steps, peering into the hallow tree. 

“I think they are.” Wooyoung gasped. 

Hearing their loud mouths, you turned around finding their bodies heading your way in a rushed manner. Your eyes went wide and you held your hands in front of you to keep them from pushing.

“(Y/N)!” Yeosang yelled, shoving into you. 

The world went black and you found yourself falling into the empty space you had grown used to these past few days. You could hear the boys screams and yells trying to find something to grab onto. 

With the impact on your back, you grunted when all of a sudden gravity made the four boys fall on you full force. You skid along the floor for a moment, groaning like you had the first time you came through the door. 

Once you got your baring together, you began to slap a hand on one of the boys. 

“What are you idiots doing!?” You pushed them off.

“Don’t hurt us!” Jongho raised his arms. 

“It seems we weren’t the only ones who had the idea to follow.”

You looked up, coming across four faces all looking down at you. 

“Hongjoong.” You quickly said. 

“Get off me!” You tried to shove Wooyoung off, the man shivering as he looked up at the other Halloween citizens. 

“They are monsters!” He sobbed, hiding in your stomach. 

“Who?” The one with horns asked with wide puppy looking eyes. 

“I know you are not talking about us, Darling.” Another grinned, his kanine teeth sharp as he looked at Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung whimpered again, hugging you closer once more. 

“Leave him alone, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, moving to help you up. 

“Is this your sweet?” You heard the giggle of one. 

He began playing the bell on your hat, smiling to himself as his large fluffy ears flickered from every sound they made. 

“Such a jolly little thing.” The other with sharp teeth spoke quietly, looking at you with a charming grin. 

“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong warned, pulling you closer to him. 

“You know I love knew friends, Joongie.” Seonghwa chuckled. “Especially the adorable ones.”

He spoke directly to Yeosang and Yunho who stood off huddled behind Jongho. The two blushed at the man’s words, flustered from his compliment. 

“Welcome all of you to Halloween.” The one with dog ears spoke up. “We hope you enjoy your time here.”

He had moved to pick up Wooyoung, but the moment the man took a look at the werewolf’s face he began to blush a bright red. Wooyoung squeaked, looking up from the floor before scrambling into Jongho’s hold. 

You began to giggle, feeling Hongjoong’s hand squeeze yours tightly. There was something about the way Hongjoong’s friends were so friendly that made you more then excited to meet them all. 

“My name is San.” The one with wolf ears spoke up, a smile on his face as he waited eagerly for your friends to say something. 

“I am Seonghwa.” The vampire bowed at his waist, hand along his torso.

“Mingi.” The boy with horns and wide eyes said, looking hopeful at each of your friends. 

The elves all watched them curious eyes but they didn’t say anything else.

“Don’t be rude, boys.” You immediatly said, catching their attention. 

They bowed at their waists, introducing themselves to Hongjoong’s friends. You smiled greatfully at the way they all started talking as though they had known each other forever. 

Seonghwa made another suggestive comment that had left Wooyoung flustered and hiding behind Jongho.

“Are they all like that?” You giggled. 

“Only Seonghwa.” Hongjoong snorted. “Are your friends always like that?”

“Only Wooyoung.”

**

There was a breeze that swept through the trees bringing down leaves that seemed to be never ending. You reached out for one that had fallen in front of you, twirling it around from the stem. 

“Hongjoong.” You quietly spoke out loud, turning to the man who was laying on his back with his eyes closed. 

He hummed, lips barely being pulled into a smile as he was enjoying his time. You leaned closer, laying on your stomach. You played with the leaf, dragging it along his nose. He scrunched up, trying to hold in his sneeze. 

“What is it, Jingle?” He asked you after swatting you away. 

You tilted your head to the side, glancing down his body. 

“Are you able to–you know–” You wiggled your hand down towards his thighs, gesturing to what’s between his legs. 

Hongjoong’s eyes quickly shot open, a frown on his face as he realized what you were gesturing to. He looked at you with an odd face, eyebrows raised to the sky as his stitches pulled his cheeks. 

“Why are you asking about it?” He asked you.

“The others talked about those kinds of things and you didn’t say anything.” You sat up, the bell on your hat ringing. “You just stayed quiet and listened to them go on and on.”

He sat up and shrugged. “I didn’t feel the need to.” He explained. “I’m not the kind of person who would do those kinds of things. Besides, I’m too busy to think about any of it.”

You thought about all the times that you were not able to hang out with Hongjoong. Especially when Halloween starts showing up. But you figured it was the same way with everyone else. Even the boys were sometimes too busy to hang out with you when Christmas was coming around. 

With the fact that you were not able to enjoy christmas the way everyone else was, things were different for you. You had all the time in the world to enjoy life, while others were busy. You could only imagine how much of a pain it was for Hongjoong being the head of Halloween. 

“You said you were the Pumpkin King, right?” You asked. 

He nodded his head, tilting it to the side as he wondered where you were going. 

You turned back around, scooting back so that you could fall into his arms. He happily held them open for you, allowing you to lay you back against his chest. His nosed at your cheek, feeling the warmth from your always red skin. 

“”It must be really hard to find someone.” You told him. 

He paused, stitches being pulled as a small smile fell onto his lips. “I don’t think it’s really all that hard.” He said. 

You turned to look at him, your eyes sparkling as they took in the soft way he looked at you. “So you do have someone?”

You were about to move out of his arms, causing him to giggle as he crushed you back between his arms. His head fell to your neck, giving you simple kisses that had you laughing. 

“It took years but I finally found someone who means more to me than being Pumpkin King.”

You turned around swiftly, legs moving to either side of his thighs. “More than being Pumpkin king?” You shook your head. “That’s one of the greatest honors a Halloween Town citizen can have. It’s like the Santa of Halloween.”

He laughed, smiling. He brought his forehead down to touch yours. “I was created to be the next Pumpkin King. The bones I have within me belonged to a past one and yet just like them I longed to find something that would fill an emptiness that would not go away.”

“There’s something out there, far from my home, a longing that I’ve never known.” He hummed quietly, bringing his hand up to touch your cheek. 

He leaned back down against the blanket, bringing you with him. You placed your hands on his chest, allowing him to stroke your back as you got comfortable atop him. 

“That longing could only be filled by someone like you.”

You softly placed your lips against his lips, stealing his breath as your emotions rose. Your hand moved into his hair, softly scratching at the scalp. There was a moan that fell from his lips at the stimulation, which made you pull back in fright. 

You pulled yourself up, staring down at him. He was panting, eyes drooping as he looked up at you. 

“I’m not going to stop.” He said breathlessly. 

You gasped quietly, as he pulled you closer, quickly turning over to lay over you. He reached up to rub his hand against your cheek softly, staring at you with sharp eyes that seemed to make you melt. 

You raised your own hand, thumbing at his stitches that fell directly from his eyes. “I don’t want you to.”

His next kiss was electrifying. It was harsh and demanding but even though it seemed that way, it was clear neither of you knew what to do. It was not your first kiss but it was the first time you were feeling as though summer was creeping through your bones. 

His tongue swept out to touch your bottom lip, allowing you the room to open your mouth for him. This was out of the ordinary for you, never really knowing what it was like to be with someone in this way. 

But everything Hongjoon did, you didn’t dare want to question. It made you feel an excitement–a warmth you had been longing for, for such a long time. It was exhilarating, magnificent. It was terrifying to feel such a need for Hongjoong. 

You pulled away from him breathlessly, the cooling air coming from the fall breeze did nothing to cool you. The red you always had on your skin from the biting cold was no longer your body trying to warm you up to survive. This time the flush you had was because of Hongjoong. And he wanted to see much more of it. 

His thigh nudged itself in between your own, opening your legs for his body to move in between. There was something between his legs you had never felt before and it was leaving you to burn up. Your knees were pulled up, allowing Hongjoong the space to slot himself perfectly. 

The hands you had behind his head moved, wanting to feel more of his skin so you placed them under his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his shoulders. Before you realized it, the man leaned up, quickly taking off his shirt that had you leaning on your elbows to stare at him wide eyed. 

The stitches. The discoloration of each patch of skin. His muscles. 

Nothing could ever compare to the haunting beauty someone like Kim Hongjoong had. He was someone who was created to rule–someone who demanded attention in his own way. Even if he wasn’t completely his own, the way he was put together was meant to be one of a kind. 

“What?” He smiled at you, chuckling at the look you had. 

“I’ve never seen someone like you.” You spoke softly. 

Hongjoong frowned just for a moment, about to lean back and away from you feeling like there was something wrong. You quickly caught on though, reaching back up to pull him closer to you. You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes as your lips brushed his in a soft way. 

Once again, you rubbed at his stitches, this time the ones near his mouth. Opening your eyes he watched as you looked at him with such an intense stare it made him want to cry. 

“Someone like you means that nothing will ever compare to the kind of beauty you have.” You whispered. “In all my years of living–you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

You leaned back in to give him a kiss. This time you allowed him to take off your coat, the green fabric falling behind you as you climbed into Hongjoong’s lap. He was rushing though, seeming more attached to you as he laid you down again.

His hands moved under your shirt, pushing it up as he tried to reveal your breasts. The bra you wore was plain, nothing fancy because of the standard elf uniform. You would have never thought about dressing pretty for Hongjoong, but now that he is looking at you the way he is, you wished you had. 

However he didn’t seem to mind as he quickly pushed your bra cups up and over your nipple so he could see them. You squeaked, looking up at him, shoulders scrunched up causing your arms to push your boobs together more. 

Hongjoong started to smile, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You are so precious.”

You laughed, his body leaning over to give you a peck before he dove down to tongue at your chest. Your chuckle was cut off when his mouth encased a nipple. A sharp gasp left your lip, back arching to chase his tongue laving at you. 

You felt him snicker against your skin, so you glanced down to find him already smiling up at you devilishly as your nipple was caught between his teeth. You were getting tired of your shirt and bra being in the way so you made a rush to take them off. 

With the only thing left being your skirt and tights, Hongjoong took a moment to look at you. You wanted to feel self conscious, but the way his fingers skimmed your sides and touched you things couldn’t be going any slower. 

He took in a breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

You nodded your head, wanting to reach for him again. 

“I need you to answer me.” His lips wobbled, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself. 

“I love you, Hongjoong.” Was all you told him. 

His lips twitched, fingers digging into your skin for just a moment as he took in your response. “I love you too, Jingle.”

You raised your hips up, moving to pull your skirt and tights down in one go as the fall breeze finally touched your heated core. There was no need for underwear when you wore tights. And it seemed like Hongjoong appreciated it a lot because he seemed to straightened up at the sigh of you. 

“I’m going to take off my pants. Okay?” He told you, pulling at his belt. 

You sat up, confused why he was shaking as he took off his pants. You began to worry maybe he didn’t want to be one with you in that way. 

“Hongjoong you don’t have to do this.” You quickly told him, sitting up. Your hands went to stop him but he lightly shoved you away. 

“I want to.” He told you. “I just–Don’t exactly look like all the others. I don’t have the same appendage as everyone else.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

There wasn’t exactly anything you could compare it to. It’s not like the other elves go around telling stories of their escapades or how things worked within a relationship. You only could question him. Because as far as you could tell Hongjoong, this was going to be your first time doing anything like this. 

“It has–stitches.” He cringed at the thought, which only made you frown. 

You sat up, pulling your knees under you. Your hand went to his pants, making him freeze up, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You began to pull them down, not removing the eye contact you had with him. But he was quick to look down at where you were going. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You told him honestly. “But I want you to know that no matter what you have you will always be someone beautiful to me.” 

He gulped, nodding his head. “You make me feel less dead inside.”

You smiled, fingers now dancing along his shaft. He moaned out quietly, and you felt it twitch up. 

“And you give me the warmth of a thousand melting snowflakes.” You pushed to touch his lips with yours. 

You felt him move to wrap your hand around his entire length, finally feeling the ridges of the stitches he was talking about along your palm. They were on the underside of his shaft, running along the entire length. You moaned from how warm he felt in your hand. 

You thumbed at the bumps, feeling against your lips how he would groan. He took off the rest of his pants, pushing and pulling to get you in his desired position. You could feel the warmth he was giving off on your core, and it made you even more heated than you cared to admit. 

“Hongjoong…”You whispered, feeling along his scarred skin. 

“I–I’m trying my best.” He told you, holding himself up with his arms. “This is my first–”

“It’s okay.” You smiled bashfully. “It’s mine too.”

Hongjoong’s lips pulled up feeling something swell in his chest that felt much deeper than anything he could have imagined. Neither of you could think of anything better than getting the chance to be with one another in this way. It was something Hongjoong could only dream of thinking that maybe he would be viewed as something out of the ordinary. 

Hongjoong took in a deep breath, looking down between your legs before moving to touch you. The gasp you let out had him flinching but when he saw your face, he found himself wanting to touch you in places that would have you gasping and out of breath. 

But he found himself losing his own breath, noticing how sensitive the tip of his cock was as his fingers grazed both your hole and his shaft. Each time you would move your hips up just to get his cock to rub against you, he found it harder to hold off from shoving in. 

He wanted to–gosh did he want to–but he wanted to enjoy the moment for a bit more. He didn’t want to rush. He didn’t want to reach the point of cumming prematurely because he wanted this to be good for you too. 

All he had to go by was off what the others would talk about. But this was much more than a simple hook up they seemed to do when they would go out into the real world. This was someone he loved with all his being. 

“Hongjoong.” You called him. 

He looked up from his stupor, pausing when he saw your glazed over look. “Tell me if it hurts.”

You didn’t have to say anything else as he was quick to start pushing in. 

Your toes curled, your legs clenched, you could feel every little bump that came with the stitches. It was something you could never describe. You had no idea how to voice to him that you wished you were able to feel it all over again for the first time. 

Hongjoong was going in slowly, choking gasps falling from his lips as every inch that he went in was covered by a pulsing warmth. He was panting, gritting his teeth together to keep from spilling too early. 

“Hongjoong.” You gasped. 

Your back arched, hands splayed against his chest. He leaned to one side, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure taking over. He pulled on your leg to wrap around his waist. Your eyes shot open at the new position, clenching around his length. 

“How–How is it this good?” He gasped out, hand messaging into your thigh. 

His breath hit the tips of your ears, the pointed flesh flicking from the tickle. All he got in response were your whimpers and soft whines. And when you began to move your hips when he bottomed out, Hongjoong couldn’t hold it in. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied manner to keep you occupied while his hips began to move back and forth. 

Your blunt nails dug themselves into his shoulders, pulling at the skin which caused a stinging coming from the stitches he had there. The stinging only made him groan. His hips went faster. 

There was an inexplicable feeling that was beginning to build in the both of you that had you trying to chase it. Hongjoong’s movement became frantic, while you wiggle your hips closer to his. With each rub against his pelvis you felt an even better feeling. And each time you moved up you it felt like you would touch it. So you tried your best to chase the feeling. 

When something started to pull, your pants turned into whimpers and cries in Hongjoong’s ears. 

“(Y/N)...” Hongjoong panted, fingers digging into your leg. 

He didn’t stutter his hips this time, rather than a rhythmic movement, he was pounding in you slowly and trying to get you to cum. And when you did, Hongjoong swore you could almost cut off all circulation with how tight you felt. 

You felt everything when you clenched down and saw stars. You could feel your body becoming overstimulated and your legs began to shake. But you knew that Hongjoong still needed more so you let him continue as you panted and cried. 

And when he came you nearly cried from how primal it was for him. His hand smacked next to your head, clenching at the ground. His forehead laid against yours, your breaths mixing from all the sharp intake of breathing you were doing. He stilled his hips, allowing his length to twitch inside you as you felt a warmth spill from him. 

He sniffled, softly kissing your lips as you both came down from your high. You smiled, feeling the twitches each muscle gave out and the tiredness seeped into you. Your fingers still wanted to touch him so they lightly played along the skin of his chest. 

Finally, Hongjoong leaned to the side, falling over and pulling you close to his side. With his body off of you, you could feel the wind brush past your heated skin. 

For the first time in such a long while the cold didn’t bother you. 

Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst , @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @angieskzzzz , @puppyminnnie , @smilingtokki, @emtrades222 , @tinyelfperson , @jaerisdiction , @0rangemilk , @v0nnaa , @palindrome969 , @wannabeacoolakid , @lovelgirl22 , @wonuwrites , @sannieily , @kynessa , @wolfgurl2600-blog , @ihaveaproblem98 , @bobbymcjoejoe

[genericpuff]

Do you have any big plans for Rekindled this year? Like specific moments/events/developments? Also, would you ever consider going back to a weekly upload schedule?

welllll as for stuff that's like, in the immediate near future, we're gonna be tackling a VERY famous scene in LO that I have some fun ideas for that will hopefully make it feel familiar but with its own twists for y'all to enjoy. Considering the current roadmap the story is on and what's been established over the past few "days" within the story, I'm sure y'all will figure out pretty quick which scene I'm talking about ;333

But in the long-term over the course of this year... I don't wanna speak too soon, but I think this is the year that we're finally gonna enter the biggest turning point of the story, so big that it literally diverts LR's plot away from the blueprint of LO and we end up in truly new territory. Granted, there are still some elements of the original LO present after that point, but what we do with those elements is entirely different. I think it's gonna parallel well, because while LO's S2 era took a massive turn away from everything it had been building up towards throughout S1, LR's "second season" will be taking a massive turn towards those setups and outcomes that were clearly abandoned (or just not thought of entirely, even the stuff that was like... plainly obvious to anyone who was paying attention lmao).

I'm hoping that after we've reached that point, the path that LR walks will feel way more satisfying for the readers like myself who felt that everything beyond S2 of LO was a complete misfire and lost potential. Again, it will hopefully feel familiar to those who remember that era of LO - but still refreshing and interesting to really drive home how this is meant to be an interpretative rewrite of what could have happened if LO hadn't gotten distracted and had actually stuck with its original plotlines and themes. I think the biggest one of those themes that was present in LO but never fully realized will be everything concerning "Persephone" herself, the Act of Wrath, and everything that led up to her moving to Olympus.

It is a little nerve-wracking, because it'll be at that turning point where I truly have to carry this story's progression for real and can't use LO quite as much to guide me through the dark, but I'm also excited because it's where I finally get to loosen a lot of the limitations that were set from the foundation of LO and really go wild with everything that I had been hoping LO would be. It's when I'll really get to write some proper payoffs to the things that I've been building up to from the foundation of the original comic as my starting point. It's where things are really gonna start to feel truly "new", at least in my opinion!

As for what that massive "turning point" is... I'm not gonna say specifically what happens, but you will absolutely know it when you'll see it. Obviously there are already a lot of differences between LR and LO in terms of the plot threads and how everything is being progressed, but this one turning point in particular is a huge one that fundamentally opposes one of the biggest flaws of LO that would define its downhill decline in its storytelling for the rest of its publication.

But for now, until we get there, I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;3

---

As for the update schedule, I would honestly love to be able to return to the weekly schedule again, but currently my work-life balance is just not gonna allow for it :'0 For those unaware, when I'm not making Rekindled, I'm also working my day job as a contracted tattoo artist which comes with its own load of responsibilities and obligations, many of which are what I need to fulfill in order to do things like pay my rent and, y'know, not die LOL In terms of the work-life balance, even when I'm not working on Rekindled, there's still a lot of work taking up my life LMAO (including a second retail job that I've been doing a seasonal position for, though it's wrapping up at the end of the month~)

While I love making Rekindled and spend as much time as I can each week working on it (and I wish it could be like, the only thing I had to worry about LOL) it is still just a fanfiction project that I create for free, and so it just can't be at the top of my priority list, at least not without sacrifices from those other obligations - but those other obligations are, again, what I need to do in order to not only survive, but to ensure that I can afford to keep making Rekindled, even if it's at a slower pace than I would like.

That said, Rekindled is still a very high priority for me! It's just a matter of balance, and changing to a bi-weekly schedule was part of maintaining that balance. It was either that, or stick to weekly and make the episodes shorter, but I ultimately settled on the former option because it allowed for a healthier work-life balance (which is still not even super healthy but I'm working on it lmao) and because the rhythm of my writing wouldn't have worked as well in shorter doses, especially not with many of the plotlines we've been tackling as of late. It can be a drag to wait every two weeks, but it means I can bring y'all episodes that are fully realized to their full potential, rather than hacking them up into tinier portions that might not read as well and would require a drawing schedule that wouldn't fit well with my current circumstances.

All in all, while I do wish I could be back to making episodes on that weekly schedule, it's really only because I would love to bring you all more of the story more often, because there's a lot that I'm really excited to show you all! But the bi-weekly schedule is currently more viable for both myself, Banshriek, and the comic as a whole, because it means we get the time we really need to make every episode feel special with every update <3

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 4: A Very Bad Idea, part 2

Also entitled: Tentacular Spectacular 

You'll want to have read episode 3 for this, find it here

CWs: Tentacles, Cumflation, Inflation, oviposition, Non-human pregnancy / parasitic pregnancy, intoxication, aphrodisiacs, mild emeto, graphic descriptions of tentacle fucking 

######################

The room was purple

Light streamed out of the scroll Heather was reading from. The brand on your belly started to ache and burn again as it responded to the new portal. You struggled to keep its hypnotic effect from clouding your mind. You made for the door, still naked but you reckoned that was something that could be dealt with in a moment. It was slow going, the demon's cum was still leaking out of both of your lower holes, and every sudden movement caused you to cough up another mouthful of thick spunk from your distended stomach.

You could hear activity behind you as you crawled, moaning and squelching, shadows of long prehensile appendages lifting your friend and having their way with her. You scrunched your eyes closed, praying you would be fast enough to avoid its notice, whatever it is.

You weren't.

A long, pinkish, suckered tendril wrapped itself around your ankle. It pulled you back along the slick floor as you tried to escape. Another grabbed you on the other leg and you were hoisted up again. When Simizel lifted you, he used magic - yes you were upside down, but your body didn't seem to know that. This thing wasn't so courteous. 

Your stomach turned and the previous night's cum came streaming out of your mouth, tasting faintly of bile on the way out. You cleared the slime away from your face and could see now what was happening.

Heather was wrapped in tentacles, her arms and legs hanging limp as several more of the beasts limbs worked every exposed inch of her. They were everywhere, in her pussy, her ass, down her throat, rubbing at both of her tits. You could see her shuddering and twitching, hearing her muffled moans as her eyes rolled in her head.

What was it doing to her?

A questing tendril snapped you from your reverie. It was different to the ones around your legs, this was tipped with an eye. The beast regarded you a moment. Then the eye withdrew, replaced by three others. Two went for your arms, holding them apart and spreading you out, one for your face.

You clenched your jaw against it as it prised your lips open. It was leaking some sort of bitter fluid. It made your lips tingle, then your gums, your tongue, the back of your throat. You could feel your jaw relax, defying you. The tentacle pushed in and started down your throat.

The tingling was spreading with it, blossoming out as the fluid hit your stomach and you were gently, almost tenderly, rotated back upright by your restraints. Your mind began to fog as the tingling spread up your back and to the base of your skull

Why would you want to be anywhere else?

Your body was relaxing into the delicious feeling. Warmth spread through you. You wouldn't have even felt the tentacles pushing into your pussy if you hadn't cum so hard. As soon as they touched your skin, leaking more of the wonderful, bitter drink your body spasmed and clenched, pumping more and more of the other demon out of you. Overwhelming you with waves of sensation. You could already feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt and your aching clit.

The first entered you, twisting and turning, pulling more fluids out of you, painting your insides with arousal. Your cries as it rubbed against your g-spot muffled in your blocked mouth. You could feel yourself rhythmically clenching against it while it thrust and contorted in you.

Another pushed into your rear, easily sliding in with the ample lubricant. You could feel as it set about the same job, clearing you out for some unknown purpose. You didn't care why, the brain-fog from the drug seeping into you and the weariness from the repeated orgasms stopped you thinking clearly.

More tentacles joined in, your eyes widened as a second, then third, then more squeezed into your pussy. Something thin was probing at your cervix, the tingling turned the pain to mind-shatrering pleasure and your eyes rolled back into your skull as it pushed through. It was leaking something into your womb, something different. It felt like frogspawn. A tiny part of your brain realised: it's exactly like frogspawn. 

You were being filled with eggs

More of the ovipositors approached you, one pushing through the throng of tentacles churning in your butt, the other sliding next to the one already pushed down your throat. You could feel yourself filling back up. Cum replaced with eggs, everywhere it could fit them. Your belly was swelling back up and you could feel yourself starting to stretch again.

Then everything started to withdraw. Slowly the ovipositors pulled out of you, leaving the precious eggs nestled deep within you, then one by one the larger ones, finally your restraints lay you gently on the ground, and released their grips on your limbs.

It felt strangely empty after being fucked so thoroughly. Your pussy still clenching against nothing, desperate to be filled again as the tingling heat still filled your senses.

You looked over at Heather and watched as she was carried towards the scroll, still bustling with activity. More and more of the smooth, muscular appendages wrapped around her as they withdrew into the scroll, pulling her down with them until she disappeared from view.

The light went out. The room now lit by the morning light as you lay groaning in a pool of the bitter aphrodisiac, cum, and squirt. Alone, you fell asleep, exhausted again.

Your belly woke you. A squirming feeling in your womb and your ass. You cried out as you felt yourself start to clench, then screamed as the familiar tingling heat started to well up inside you. 

Contract, cum, contract, cum, contact, cum. The next hour was nothing but your spasming abdomen and your lewd moans. Eventually it stopped, but you weren't any emptier. Your vision was bleary from exhaustion and overstimulation but you could see pinkish shapes moving across the floor. They were making for any shelter or crack they could bury themselves, fleeing the light.

Your babies.

You murmured a lullaby, half-remembered

You fell back to sleep

[dynamicccsworld]

Why Little Shop of Horrors may parallel some things in Wills life.

Spoilers for Little Shop Of Horrors, duh. (And I'm Making this literally only because of Will's poster, lol)

First of all, the ending.

In the original Little Shop of Horrors, Audrey II takes over the world, killing off all of humanity.

In the other ending featured in the theatrical release, features a good ending where Audrey ll is defeated and Seymour and Audrey get to live together happily.

Now, after thinking about this for a while I came to the conclusion this is something that could happen in Stranger Things.

For example, swap Audrey II with Vecna..

I would assume the bad ending is what Vecna is going to make people see, instead of what actually happens.

Maybe giving Will visions of this gruesome "future".

And not to mention we've technically already gotten visions like these shown in the show from Nancy's vision in S4.

And the the good ending could be what really happens at the end. (And instead of it being Audrey and Seymour living happily together, it's Will and Mike 👀.)

Second of all, the theme of ST.

Now, one of Stranger Things's themes is about outcasts, and although the themes for both media are different; Seymour is shown to be a outcast at the very beginning of LSoH in the song Skid Row.

Seymour is a outcast until he becomes popular after getting Audrey ll.

However, if something were to be taken from it and put into ST; it would likely show a character going from a outcast to a hero/popular person. (Maybe someone in the party becomes famous? Like the characters in IT do in IT chapter two..)

Third of all, going back to the first release.

Audrey sacrifices herself by asking Seymour to feed her to Audrey II, because she believes it is the only way to ensure Seymour's success and well, happiness. Now.. imagine if this means a certain someone will sacrifice themselves to Vecna to protect one of the members of the party. I could definitely see Will sacrificing himself, but it failing. (Because no, Will cant die because I said so.)

This would be in character considering that Will has been shown to be self sacrificial before, and I wouldn't doubt the show would showcase this aspect of his character again.

And lastly, the songs.

Skid Row:

• Seymour talks about Mushnik's mistreatment of himself, which may parallel Lonnie or Ted.

"He took me in, gave me shelter, a bed, Crust of bread and a job. Treats me like dirt, calls me a slob."

Seymour dreams about leaving Skid Row, claiming if he doesn't he'll rot there.

"Someone gimme my shot or I'll rot here."

The general outlook of Skid Row by its residents is negative; which is the same outlook some of the characters have of Hawkins.

This could foreshadow members of the party moving out of Hawkins in the show. (Which would also be similar to IT; which Stranger things is inspired by.)

(No lyrics for this, quite literally because the whole song is about people disliking living in Skid Row.)

Da-Doo:

•Not much I could see that would parallel in this song, other than Audrey ll being described as something from another world the first time Seymour sees it.

"And there was this strange humming sound, Like something from another world"

This could parallel Will's first time seeing the Demogorgan, I guess.

Suppertime:

•I originally thought Suppertime wouldn't have anything that could be shown in stranger things, but alas I was pretty wrong.

"He knows just what you've done."

Perhaps Mike knowing about what Will was going through in Season 2.

"You've got no place to hide. You've got nowhere to run. " Parallels Season one, quite obviously.

Audrey II taunting Seymour about Audrey may mean Vecna will taunt Will about his feelings for Mike in S5.

Also, Suppertime is a song which happens when Mr. Mushnik tries to find Seymour guilty of killing Orin.

It ends when Seymour causes the death of Mr Musinik by leading him to Audrey II.

This has faint parallels to Season 2; when Will was being possessed by the mind flayer, which caused Bobs death.

Mean Green Mother:

•Nothing at the moment sticks out to me, but I feel it definitely could parallel how Vecna treats Will in the future?

Prologue:

•Do I even have to say it? Id say a lot of the words in the prologue song match up with Wills life.

"Tellin' you, you better, Tell your mama, Something's gonna get her. "

Directly parallels Will telling Joyce to run with the Christmas lights.

And as Noah stated, Will will be protecting Joyce more in S5.

"Call a Cop"

Cough cough, Hopper.

"Ooh, hit the dirt, baby."

When Will first sees the Demogorgan, he bikes into the dirt.

"Something's comin' down, down the street for you!" When Will first sees the Demogorgan, it's on the street.

Somewhere That's Green:

•I don't think most of the lyrics here mean anything, but..

"And I dream of a place, Where we could be together at last"

Will probably dreams of a world where he can be supported for being queer, a world where him and Mike could be together.

"Far from Skid Row, I dream we'll go, Somewhere that's green."

Once again, I don't think anyone in the party wants to stay in Hawkins forever. That's just my perspective though.

Suddenly, Seymour:

•Self explanatory.

"Suddenly, Seymour is here to provide you."

"Sweet understanding, Seymour's your friend"

The song is about how Seymour treats Audrey, which could parallel how Mike treats Will, or vise versa.

"Nobody else treated me kindly. Daddy left early, Mama was poor"

Well, this is obviously a parallel. The Byers are definitely far from wealthy, and Lonnie did leave. And Will has stated before that Mike is the only one that doesn't coddle him.

"Please understand that it's still strange and frightening"

Having queer feelings in the 80s/90s along with the whole UD thing is pretty frightening.

Feed Me Seymour:

•Could possibly foreshadow Vecna trying to manipulate Will into joining him or smth, doubt it would work though.

Or, it could be representative of the Mind Flayer in Will's mind in Season Two.

The Meek Shall Inherit:

•As I stated before, this song could parallel a member of the party becoming famous. Other than that, not much else can be said.

"And you're a meek little guy"

Meek; an attitude or quality of heart whereby a person is willing to accept and submit without resistance to the will and desire of someone else.

Sound familiar?

Conclusion..

I feel like LSoH has many similarities to Will's life, and there could be even more in S5.

But, who knows! These could all just be coincidences and I'm just looking too far into it.

[nobodyexpectsthe]

rubs a hand down my face. okay, i finished weisshaupt and i've got feelings and they continue to be not great.

i'm very... underwhelmed.

so, my major complaint about this game has primarily been it has an issue with matching the tone of previous games. and i think weisshaupt just like... locked in for me that's not gonna change. people kept saying that weisshaupt was where the game got dark, and if this is its idea of dark i'm... not hopeful for the rest of it.

like, i'm gonna pull at this thread. mila and her dad.

i'm not saying i want the little girl and her dad to die horribly, but i am saying that it's weird that they didn't in a part of the game that was meant to be upping the stakes. mila just being there also felt so... tonally dissonant? how is this adorable little girl not dead. am i being lured into a false sense of security? was this a moment to get attached that's going to bite me later, because she and her dad lived & i foolishly drop my guard and think they're safe?

because otherwise they would both have died horribly to set the stakes and tone. we would have clearly been moving out of the 'everybody is bonding and getting to know each other!' part of the game and directly into the "oh fuck, shit is getting real".

in any other game, that reunion would've also had to have been something you earned. like... this should have been what haven was in dragon age inquisition, where all the calls you make decide whether or not she lives or dies. but there are no calls, there are no choices. other than punching the first warden.

which didn't really seem to affect the outcome?

but i don't think anyone other than some nameless grey wardens died?

i know, i know, dragon age games give you the illusion of choice. you can't do or say anything that is going to drastically alter and impact the story - but it was good at making you feel like you were an active participant in the narrative. this is not the case here.

like, you would have needed to do something to get that outcome. and you would've felt the weight of it when you failed. again, like haven. or even like adamant. there would be moments of choice that would make you feel like you were impacting the world, but as it is - i run from room to room killing bad guys, until i have gone through the end of the scene........ which i don't even need to pay attention to because the game has decided for some reason i have to have recaps at the end of every chapter and i hate that because it kills absolutely any momentum, immersion and investment.

i know there are big moves later on that will dictate whether or not your team lives or dies, but i'm gonna be honest - i actively hate that. because baking those choices into the story meant making a choice that everyone has to live and stay with you to the end, meaning that every other choice in the game that would have had the characters reacting naturally to your leadership and friendship gets tossed out the window.

which means yeah i'm not excited about this next part of the game being a fix-it felix story for our companions bc that feels like a rapid de-escalation of stakes.

like i appreciate everyone has their own personal plots and issues they need to sort out, but it's actually buck wild to go from "the goddamn world is ending" to "rook you need to play therapist for your new friends".

rubs my face

i don't know how to feel about this game. i think i'd like it if it wasn't a dragon age game and wasn't meant to cap off a story that's been running over a decade. it's impossible to meet these high standards, i know, but it just feels so different.

it genuinely feels like some executive played god of war ragnarok and was like "this is popular, this is what dragon age is now" (which like lets be real that's exactly why the game was started and scrapped twice, the refusal to just let the dragon age franchise stay in the goddamn crpg genre it was meant to) and then decided it was also an MCU team up movie.

i think what's compounding the issues is i continue to feel like there was a whole fucking prologue that was cut and things are happening too soon in the story for me to care about anyone. i am doing sidequests, i'm trying to bring everyone out to get attached, i actually do like the companions - but everything feels do disparate and there's such a lack of weight to it.

anyway, ending this rant with this: i don't blame the creatives. at all. knowing how the games industry works, none of these calls were in their hands and they were just desperately trying to get the thing out the door in the timeframe that was demanded of them. making a game with the kind of narrative depth that a dragon age game requires needs so much time, money, resources, and for the devs to be left alone with a product that isn't going to get jerked around constantly by executives that only know money and don't understand a goddamn thing about an enjoyable video game.

there is an enjoyable game here. there is.

i just really wish it wasn't the ending to dragon age.

[titsoutfortntduo]

When it comes to killing off characters it really depends on the context and the other characters. A character killing themself could very easily kickstart or push along some sort of journey or story for a different character, but I dont think its ever going to be a satisfying ending for the initial character. And that's like.. the point of using it imo. If you're going to portray suicide you should portray it with the consideration of its impact on others, and use it to highlight the tragedy of losing someone to whatever they were struggling with. To show it as a happy ending or like.. yay! the character isnt suffering anymore! is kind of a really fucked message to send idk!!!!

For death in general it also really depends!! A character's arc can end with death. They all do eventually, if you really wanna think about it, but when you include it in the story or in the frame of time the story takes place in you gotta consider what message you are trying to send. In Mary and Max, for example, Max's death at the end is there to complete his arc through the acceptance that nobody is perfect, and Mary's though the acknowledgement of her and their friendship in his final moments. It's a bitter-sweet ending because he is dead, but through his death the viewer is able to see how deeply he cared for his pen pal.

Killing off ur characters can be neat and cool and fun!! but you also need to think about what you're trying to say or start or end when you do, both in relation to the story and the characters. Much like using any other narrative device

also you should watch the ending cuz other than cQ's ending I did actually quite like it, and it's clear a lot of thought was put into ALL of the endings!! I just disagree with the stance some of the fandom is taking regarding suicide and autonomy

listen. if you liked the cQuackity ending, all the power to you, but can we please lets not act like it was the best outcome for his character? In what world is that a satisfying ending?? I have seen so many posts calling anything less of literal suicide 'sugar coating' and Im... Really kind of appalled? Idk I assumed people would be a little more empathetic maybe? When it was cWilbur everyone was like oh he ruined it, Utah = death, he's just running away... and yes I know cQ and cWil are different characters with different paths but come ON guys. I thought the takeaway here was that ending a characters arc with killing themself was kind of bad, actually!

I think a character dying to conclude their story can be done well, I think suicide can be a great narritive device, but I think that everything built up about cQuackity's character-- his struggles, his defeats, his triumphs, his LEGACY-- make no sense when concluded with blowing himself up.

[quietwingsinthesky]

also also consider: human!au transfem michael who figures this out about herself years and years later than all her other siblings figure out their queerness because of The Repression™️ and calls Raphael up in the dead of night like I Need Your Help Right Now I’m Freaking Out

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[thedrotter]

as a little treat i am sharing with you little Aya doodles I've done over the last few days to unwind ww just little expressions based on lines in-game because those are always fun to draw. nothing too special just biscuit

it's Aya because upon doing bizarrely throughout playthroughs of the game for still unspecified project purposes I've gained a soft spot for her she's my daughter now my mental tier list on my favorite characters is so confusing right now

[clonerightsagenda]

Ok there is. a lot that could be said about Vi and Jinx but I'll hone in on a couple of things for the sake of this post:

We're back at it with character duos representing dueling worldviews, and Vi and Jinx are both struggling with the past. Vi wants things to go back to how they used to be. I have to keep reminding myself of this because of the show's breakneck pace, but she's been in prison for what, 6 years? And then seasons 1-2 take place over a few months. Vi stepped out of a timewarp into a nightmare. Her last clear memories of the world outside her cell were an entirely different situation; it makes sense that she's struggling to let that go. And it also makes sense that she latches onto the first real positive interaction she gets after all that (Caitlyn) and is so willing to take her back the second Caitlyn reverts to their past dynamic. Vi cannot move the fuck on. More on this later.

Jinx, on the other hand, wants to make the past go away. She changes her name, her look, her life, but of course she can't make a clean break of it. She keeps dolls of her dead siblings. She's literally haunted by figures from her past. I am not psychotic and have not done a lot of reading on psychosis, so I can't speak authoritatively on how Jinx's mental illness is portrayed (I suspect not well), but there's a noticeable shift between seasons. Part of this could be that Jinx's symptoms are intensified by stress and parts of season 2 Jinx (and AU Powder) are in a better headspace, but it also reeks of 'this character is more of a protagonist so we're going to get rid of some of the unsightlier symptoms'. Suicidal depression is prettier and more poetic, right?

So we have two sisters with two different ways of handling the past (trying to kill it versus trying to resurrect it), and while I found the whole Vander/Warwick plotline annoying, I recognize its symbolism as the undead weight of their history. What's interesting to me, though, is that despite Vi getting the more traditionally 'good' ending, Jinx is the one who escapes this mindset. Vi doesn't get through to her, but Ekko - whose powers allow him to turn back time, but only 4 seconds, a more limited engagement with the past that acknowledges you can't live in it - does. She changes her look again in a way that references multiple important people from different phases in her life. She also appears to be wearing a hoodie made out of an Ikea shark maybe. And although the finale episode starts with Jinx trying to fall to her death, her eventual "death" isn't actually caused by her issues. She did not go into that fight with the goal of a heroic sacrifice. She ends up falling with Vander because Vi refused to leave his inert body, because Vi still cannot let go. Jinx is the one who pays for it. Maybe that's why after her heavily implied survival she doesn't come back.

(Also, sidenote unrelated to the core idea being explored in this post: Both of the sisters are far more interested in personal relationships than ideology. Jinx doesn't dislike Caitlyn for being a topsider; she dislikes her for stealing her sister's attention. She never meant to be a figurehead for Zaunite liberation. So I guess her giving Vi her blessing to date their military dictator doesn't represent her betraying Zaunite ideals (she never actually cared about that and is very upfront about it) but it's still sort of annoying. Though maybe it's just another warning sign that she's given up on everything, that she no longer has the energy to fight for her sister's attention. And when Vi gets released she has jail cell sex with Caitlyn instead of running after her sister so, fair read of the situation there, Jinx.

I just finished Arcane. I have deeply mixed feelings but re: PPLN: I would be interested in hearing your thoughts about everything that went down with Vi and Jinx. Or Mel and Ambessa.

re: send me PPLN asks while I'm snowed in, the sleet has begun and so do I

This ask could probably keep me fed for my entire snowbound experience because oh my god, but let's start off with Mel and Ambessa since there's a little bit less material to work with, and I'll come back to Vi and Jinx later.

Stuck it under a cut because this got long

Arcane loves its character duos who represent dueling worldviews, and Ambessa and Mel represent hard versus soft power. In Mel's childhood flashback, Mel advocates for sparing a captive and using her as a figurehead while they become the power behind the throne, and Ambessa decapitates her instead. In the present, Ambessa is a warlord coming to Piltover looking for new shiny magitech to use against her enemies. Meanwhile, Mel is the richest woman in the city and a major political player, making alliances, swaying council votes, and backing rising stars.

We see the two of them come into conflict in season 1 and the beginning of season 2. (Although, we can note, Ambessa is using political maneuvering here by manipulating Salo and Caitlyn! She has more range than just brute force.) As viewers, we can anticipate that the characters will be used to explore these two different philosophies of power and control.

Aaaaaand then.... Mel gets kidnapped, joins a sisterhood of witches, comes back, hands over her mom to one of the witches, then decides she doesn't trust the witch after all, and then her mom dies and she gets her job. I'm. Not quite sure what philosophical statement is being made here. Which is possibly one of the reasons why Mel's sections feel so untethered from the rest of the show, beyond that it's clearly spinoff bait. Ambessa proclaims she is the wolf - is this a vindication of hard power? But Mel mostly just showed up to do some sparkly and ill defined magic and then introduce a new villain.

As I've been contemplating this ask, I've been thinking that while Mel votes for Zaunite independence and opposes the use of hextech weapons on the Undercity (she frames this to Jayce as 'I won't let them corrupt your dream', although she does seem distressed at the unnecessary violence as well) she sure didn't seem to be using her wealth and power to do much for the Undercity beforehand. Judging from Caitlyn's 'can you believe they live like this??' speech in season 1, the Undercity is literally beneath the notice of the privileged of Piltover. Plus, Mel is an immigrant, and I'm not sure how long she's been in town. To wind her deeper into the season's storylines and explore her philosophy versus her mother's more, I kind of wish she'd ended up spending some time in Zaun. Maybe she gets dropped off there after leaving the witch place (still not entirely sure how she got home from there...) I'd be interested in her trying to use her political skills in that environment, and seeing how the leadership of the Undercity responds to this wealthy outsider. Caitlyn who got vocally upset about the Undercity's treatment and then teamed up with Ambessa to oppress it versus Mel, Ambessa's daughter and privileged councilor, who now tries to do the opposite despite a distrustful reception...

We see Sevika serving as the loyal right hand woman to whoever she sees as Zaun's best figurehead (Vander, Silco, Jinx), but at the end she's taking a seat at the council. It would be interesting if she'd had some interactions with Mel, who also spoke about being a power behind the throne, as they both navigate having to stand out on their own. Maybe Mel could be the one brokering the conversation between Zaun and Piltover, which is a missing scene I would've loved to see. (It's implied the councilor with the cool necklace thingy gained respect for Sevika and advocated for her, but seeing that actually go down would've been nice.)

[aeons-domain]

Now I'm curious about something 🤔 Reblog this and put in the tags or comments what ideas or concepts did you scrap for your OC's lore/backstory.

I know an OC's background isn't always going to be consistent or concrete and that's fine! But do you ever have ideas that you either A) didn't have time to work on, B) found too complex to incorporate into their lore, or C) feel like it just didn't fit in based on the standards of whatever universe (canon or original) your OC is in? Or perhaps a secret fourth option, I dunno!

[moe-broey]

Ohhhhhhh. Okay.

(thoughts/revelations about bride alt Sharena jumpscare)

[honeydots]

how would soleil and seigbert be as siblings??

omg. well first i like to hc siegbert as the older one (usually a year but w/e works), partially bc i like the whole "im the older brother and i MUST act like one" scenario it would inevitably produce. i think he'd end up protective of soleil, but this causes issues bc soleil would also be protective of him, albeit in a slightly different way, but ultimately i think they'd end up clashing in this particular regard lol. i don't think they squabble too often (beyond siegbert chiding soleil and soleil going hehe whoops *continues skirt-chasing*), honestly their biggest hurdle to overcome imo is that dual-attempt at protection which might end up requiring xander or laslow to step in. OTHER than that tho i think they'd get along well as siblings, it's not like they hate each other in-game--they'll just also have the occasional "daaaaaaaaaaaad siegbert is nagging me again make him stooopppp" peppered in there lolol

[nomaishuttle]

the way i balance staying true to my tumblrina nature while also having a job and bills and rent is that at work while cleaning a room ill think of something id like to post and then repeat it over and over in my head and refine it until it sounds right and then i either post it as soon as i get a second to Or i forget it bc i think of anew post to make. and they always get 0 notes but its ok

[thecherrygod]

thinking about hdb while holding my head in my hands and suffering