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#you know I never planned on writing sequels
lizardsfromspace · 2 days
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Okay, Matrix plagiarism case postscript
One thing I didn't answer is how she got the Wachowski's timeline wrong. I still don't know, but it appears she essentially shifted their lives back a decade
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She says less than a decade ago they were running a construction business, but actually, working at a construction company is what they were doing in 1986. In 1976 Lana and Lilly were eleven and nine years old respectively. I can't explain why she messed this up, beyond having to age them up a decade for the story to work
But this screencap also brings up another thing she mentions repeatedly that I didn't mention - the smoking gun in her claim is that...the Matrix ripped off her words verbatim for its opening crawl. The opening crawl...to The Matrix.
Huh?
So her story is - and unsurprisingly the timeline here is jumbled, for instance, citing production interviews from 1997 when the film wouldn't enter production until 1998 - the original version of The Matrix contained a Star Wars-style opening crawl, and this was the most directly plagiarized part of the film.
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She claims this opening crawl was, in fact, in the theatrical release of The Matrix and only removed when it came to home media, because she. Because she called the FBI on the Wachowskis for stealing the idea of opening crawls from her
The theatrical cut does differ from later versions slightly - most infamously the Wachowskis made the green color filter much more green in the second DVD release, to make it consistent with the style of the sequels - but if there was a opening crawl mandated by the studio, nobody but her has mentioned it, and I find it hard to believe critics wouldn't mention it.
Because this is Dark City. She's clearly confused The Matrix with stories about the studio's meddling with the 1998 film Dark City.
Dark City was the dystopian sci-fi film that had a opening narration explaining the whole plot foisted on it by the studio, and critics mentioned it. Basically every review mentioned it (some even suggest covering your ears or muting the film the first time you see it, at least until the Director's Cut removed it). Meanwhile, reviews of The Matrix praised its opening from the very beginning: how it drops you right into things and lets you find out about its world as Neo does. It's just not possible that the theatrical release has a opening crawl no one mentioned when I can pull up full comparisons of theatrical vs first DVD vs second DVD vs Bluray. Whatever story she read either was about Dark City, or was a Wachowski saying in passing "yeah the studio wanted us to add one but we didn't".
Another thing I didn't touch on is just how much it hypes her up as a untouchable genius of cinema. For instance, she claims to have come up with the effects of The Matrix in 1983 too
(one funny part is how little she brings up The Terminator at all? She just threw it in as a bonus I guess)
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I looked up how they did the bullet time effect in particular and...it would have been impossible in 1983. It's not just high speed photography; it's entire banks of cameras, placed in the right place by computer previsualization, their sequence programmed, and with all the elements composited together by CGI. Even stylistically - the true creator of the effects cited Akira as a influence, and Akira the movie didn't exist in 1983. Neither did the type of Hong Kong action film that heavily influenced it. I guess it would be possible to write down "someone goes really fast and we depict it like they slowed down time", concepts of a plan etc
But like.
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She's destined to be one of the most profound master writers of the 21st century. This is a book proving she's never written anything. It has a pitch for The Third Eye, it has a second film treatment tacked on at the end, and it has copyright registrations for her sequels to Terminator and The Matrix. M. Night Shyamalan's character in Lady in the Water was destined to be a great writer too, but he actually wrote a book. He didn't put out a book with a decades-old synposis that was never finished & reams of legal documents and a bio saying, I'm one of the greatest authors of all time. Because who needs writing when you have destiny, God, and the ancient superrace living in the Pyramids on your side?
This is my for real last post on this since I ended up just depressed about it in the end. I think the worst part is, she knows she lost. But she still goes to the press telling a story she knows isn't true, and people believe her. Some of it is transphobic - "stop saying it's a trans allegory when they stole it"; some of it runs with the Christian oppression narrative (full disclosure, I was inspired to look for her book again bc while looking up another crank, I saw an interview with her in the sidebar of a religious website); but a lot of it is just people who innocently want it to be true.
One of the few pieces debunking her story is on a website called Black Excellence - it doesn't even have a byline - said this:
"There are many people, especially Black people, who wanted the story to be true. It symbolized a Black person, especially a Black woman, finally winning against the system. When Sophia Stewart spoke about how mainstream media would not give her the time of day because almost all of them were owned by Warner Brothers, some Black media embraced her. Blogs spread her story, especially the initial story on Globe that contained errors about the case.
"But the story is not true. Sophia Stewart did not become the richest Black person in the country. But that did not deter her from going on several shows and publications to tell her story."
She took advantage of people's urge to root for the underdog against a corporation - and seized on a lack of mainstream coverage to claim her story was being suppressed. But it just isn't true. Also yeah she ridiculously claims that Warner Bros owns every news website and newspaper and that's kind of funny I guess. Well, that's it. I'm never doing this again
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darklinaforever · 2 days
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First picture :
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Second picture :
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The first person is aware that Lydia could remove the files from her mouth at any time? Literally, she takes them off on her own to talk when she gets tired of them! Beetlejuice is a very powerful fucking demon, if he wanted to completely silence Lydia he could and would have done so. However, he didn't do it. I'm tired of seeing people make this situation worse when in reality it's not as restrictive as it seems.
Same with the baby's delusion, which yes, is admittedly very disturbing at first and the only real reprehensible thing that Beetlejuice does to Lydia in this film in my opinion (because with the song that is played at their wedding ceremony and the how easily he lets Lydia send him away (I'm sure he wasn't really planning on marrying her this time). But then again, he didn't actually get Lydia pregnant ! And she didn't really give birth to his demonic child either ! And she seems to get over that weird, disgusting prank made by Beetlejuice pretty quickly.
Also, I don't know why but I never had the impression that Beetlejuice had traumatized Lydia in the first film as an attempt to affirm these people, particularly the second.
Literally, she doesn't seem to have any after-effects in the first film, and the sequel proves it even more. At what point in her scenes with Beetlejuice himself does Lydia seem to be truly afraid of him or particularly traumatized by him ? And I'm talking about the scenes where she is with him in the flesh. Because the moments when she thinks she's hallucinating his presence, it's logical that she panics. But no, she never seems terrified of Beetlejuice himself.
Not even at the famous wedding, contrary to what the second person says. This is bullshit.
The scenes where Beetlejuice makes declarations to Lydia like the serenade or the marriage, she doesn't seem disgusted (except when he throws his heart in her hands and that's somewhat normal) or terrified, or both.
She just has a face that generally says : Wtf ? Because the situation is WTF ! This wedding scene is not at all portrayed as creepy in the first place !
Frankly, it's bad form to say the opposite for me ! It’s deliberately turning a blind eye. Beetlejuice is a horror comedy, these scenes are above all funny with touches of bizarre and gothic !
The actors love their characters together, including Winona who totally ships them. To say that she played her character as being terrified of Beetlejuice is bullshit.
And even if his acting was out of step with the script, that's not the case. Because once again, Lydia is not traumatized by Beetlejuice even through writing.
Aside from the fact that Lydia doesn't want to say Beetlejuice's name to avoid screwing up her life again (and we understand), there is nothing that indicates a real fear of Beetlejuice, the individual, in her !
And no, Lydia does not have any trauma that caused her to hallucinate the Beetlejuice presence. We know it, we see it, Beetlejuice does this on his own, so when Lydia sees him it's real. These are not hallucinations resulting from trauma at all !
Yes, Beetlejuice is problematic, obviously he's a demon ! Yes, Beetlebabes also has problematic aspects, obviously since once again Beetlejuice is a demon !
(That's literally the whole appeal of this ship between these two... Nobody likes Beetlebabes because it's a healthy relationship !)
But I'm tired of people trying to make it worse than it is.
In this sequel, Beetlejuice literally saved Astrid, Lydia's daughter, and he also saved her from marrying a complete asshole !
Not only that, but the way he pursues Lydia, or courts her if you prefer, isn't really cringeworthy.
He helps her save her daughter. Saves her from a bad marriage. He plays the serenade. Gives her a hand kiss. Is ready to accept Astrid as his child. Offers her his beating heart (yuck), etc. Frankly, it's a good overall approach for me !
And even if it's frankly not cool to haunt her in recent years, the film suggests to us that it's really due to a connection between the two characters. So that balances it out a bit.
Frankly, the antis greatly exaggerate the issues of ship Beetlebabes and the character of Beetlejuice.
It's like those who say he's a pedophile, when he only seeks to marry Lydia for convenience in the first film, not because he has feelings for her. Plus people seem to forget that Beetlejuice comes from an era where girls generally married at the age Lydia was in the first film...
But hey. Really thinking about these is a bit hard obviously for the antis.
And I'm not even going to bother talking about those (like this second person) who think Beetlejuice having a picture of Lydia from the first movie on his desk is creepy...
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annawayne · 3 days
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Annaaaaaaaaaaaaaa T^T I hope you're doing alright today! Did you bake anything new recently!
For the writer's ask btw: 1, 4, 5, 8, 12, 14, 15, 23, 27 :3
Do it, tell me all about it! And I hope you have a great week :3 Thank you for blessing us with all your beautiful art and love T^T
Moon, hello (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ⁠♡
Thank you a lot for asking, and OH MY, that's a lot, but don't get me wrong, I appreciate your interest a lot T^T
Let me first tell you about baking: I baked only the plum pie recently, and it's already gone... But I plan to bake pumpkin muffins with orange cream soon :3
As for the questions:
1 - the last sentence you wrote
I've already answered this one a bit earlier here, but as I got around to answer your question, here's another sentences that I actually wrote the last one:
"I wonder, why can’t we notice… until we’ve lost it already?"
👀
4 - a story idea you haven’t written yet
Oh, I have this one story idea in my mind, based on this one art...
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Can't say much without spoilering , but this story has some angsty development. Like, very angsty.
Other than this, it's also a story about how AruAni met and fell in love, so some kind of strangers to lovers, with a lot of immediate attraction and interest, all set in Switzerland, 1911.
The caption in the original post - "It was the love at first sight" - is a leitmotif of this whole story.
I've been thinking about it while working on this drawing, and I didn't consider writing it, but the more time passes - the more I think that, eventually, I'll write it...
5 - first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP
Uhm... Well, I think, the chapter 10 of MYLYSW counts for now, yes? If yes, so here we are:
"How to breathe without feeling the burden of the mission to be fulfilled; how to sleep without all the images of the world through the eyes of others; how to say a word without feeling obliged to remember a promise to come back; how to look at the sun and see in it the beauty of another day borning out of the velvet darkness of the night into the golden sunrise, and not to cross out another twenty-four hours out of one hundred and thirteen thousand nine hundred fifty-five hours of defined expiration of her."
Me and my damn love for the long sentences...
8 - if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…
Oh, good question! I don't really have a lot of fics, but I think I would love to write for Neverland of (Our) Desires, the Fort Salta oneshot-sequel, where AruAni are caught in feelings and have an awkward-silly conversation about their boat *adventure*, with all these emotions and feelings of having the life ahead of them and not knowing what to do with it... Oh well, oh well, such a potential 🤌
12 - a trope you’re really into right now
Hm... Honestly, I've been into Forbidden Love or Star-crossed Lovers tropes recently...
It's quite canonical AruAni, to be honest, and I just love to think about it in different AUs and canon-compliant too, so yes, I would say these ones! And here a remark, that Forbidden Love/Star-crossed Lovers don't mean that it's a tragic ending - more like obstacles and a lot of angst, which challenge the characters and their love, and how it all develops within the plot.
14 - where do you get your inspiration?
You know, I thought I had a proper answer for it, but when I started typing it, I realized, that, in fact, I don't.
If I'm totally honest - I don't think I even have something special as "inspiration". I have ideas that pop up in my mind on their own, and then, I turn them into story or a moment in the fic, but I never particularly searched for it. I suppose, it's also a consequence of my constant art and literature involving, where I read/observe/study something, so I have this almost never-stopping source of new experience and knowledge, which leads to ideas and inspiration to create my own stories/drawings.
So, I think that my inspiration is constant studying and sources of knowledge.
15 - favorite weather for writing
Answered here :3
23 - pick three keywords that describe your writing
Moon, what a question *sigh*... Let's say:
evocative, raw and poetic
I thought of what to answer you on this particular question because it's a bit difficult for me to evaluate my own writing style, but I also remembered the words I received about it (including your wonderful feedback), and I guess, it helped me to pick these particular keywords.
27 - your favorite part of the writing process
Answered here, too :3
Thank you a lot for your interest and support, Moon, I wish you all the best and take care🖤
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vashbooks · 5 months
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I'm making good progress on both my next planned fics. It's my weekend off work, so I'm hoping to get at least one of them finished, but we'll see how things go. They’re both posing challenges for different reasons, but I'm having fun writing them, and I'm looking forward to posting!
For the curious, here's a very brief summary of what to look forward to:
Fic 1: bloody knuckles sequel with wriothesley pov. feat discussions of kept secrets, not so hidden fears, and teapot abode shenanigans.
Fic 2: tighnari/aether/gaming experiment because they both came home only recently, and I've been spending a lot of time with them. feat domain and leyline fuckery as a backdrop for the other two topping the hell out of aether
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solcorvidae · 8 months
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Lambert "Bellsy" Bellegarde, #27, an absolute menace on the ice.
Fic pending. It will take place after I finish Hypothermic and be set immediately after the final chapter is uploaded... whenever that ends up happening. We still have a ways to go.
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val-made-a-mistake · 1 year
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❝PUSHING THE LIMITS.❞
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(not my gif)
summary: eddie might fuck you good, but venom pushes your limits.
warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, nasty ass smut, surprised-myself-while-writing-it kind of smut, sorta dubcon towards the end, oral sex f and m receiving, sticky tendrils and tentacles and appendages and such, bondage using v's tendrils, hair pulling, spanking, double penetration, eddie spitting in reader's mouth, eddie slaps reader's cheek a lil bit in the beginning, overstimulation central, names like "good girl", "sweet angel", "sweet girl", "beautiful girl"... don't wanna hype myself up too much, but i think y'all are gonna be eating good while reading this one. monsterfucking. i am definitely not getting into heaven, so make my sacrifice worth it and grab some popcorn!
word count: 2k
a/n: if you've ever wanted me to write a sequel for fics like "take the reins" and "don't pretend", this is for you. i can't believe this is my official return to fic writing LMAO, but we're pretending like i never left! (yes i know i posted my last fic in april.) i hope you enjoy, please give me some feedback for this one!
//////
“Gooooood fuckin’ girl.”
You struggled to hide your wince as Eddie harshly slapped your cheek again: you were on your knees, your face raised to look at him as he knelt over you, directing your face in whatever way he wanted it to go. Some parts sweet, some parts rough - whether it was pulling your hair until your cunt twinged with need, or spitting in your mouth when it got too dry for him to fuck, or how fucking good his cock felt when it was shoved into your mouth, you took all of it enthusiastically. 
You hadn’t heard Venom’s commentary in a while, but at least Eddie seemed to be enjoying himself.
“That’s great, honey,” Eddie gasped as he slipped the tip of his cock in your mouth again: you sucked on it dutifully, slathering your spit over his already glistening length, but throughout all of it, your eyes were locked on his face.
He was almost out of breath just from watching you. “Jeez, that’s fuckin’ nasty…”
Overachieving, you responded by taking his whole length into your mouth until the tip of his cock slammed into your uvula and you were forced to gag.
You meant to stay there, but Eddie’s hand was buried in your hair very suddenly, tugging you backward: he evidently hadn’t been expecting that.
“Easy, honey,” he told you. “It’s not every day I got a girl jumping all over me, y’know.”
You sat back on the bed and stuck out your tongue for him, grinning widely. “Sorry.”
Inside his head, Venom scoffed.
PUSSY.
“N-no, don’t be sorry for anything,” Eddie managed to say to you as he allowed his cock into your mouth again, determined to keep Venom at bay inside his thoughts. “Feels so fucking good, just like that…”
Sucking him off until he came had to be the plan, you figured, so you kept going, keeping your tongue flat along his length as he fucked your mouth. His cock was so goddamn thick, and your tongue kept brushing along a prominent vein as you went. The best part was his hand, firm in your hair, ensuring he was using you in whatever way he wanted.
Meanwhile, Venom’s voice was a reassuring purr in Eddie’s ear.
SHE LOOKS SO GOOD LIKE THIS, EDDIE.
So it came as a bit of a surprise when Eddie decided he wanted to move: he was off of you in an instant, but he was grabbing your leg, indicating he wanted you to move with him.
His voice was soft, almost sweet, keeping you wet. “Up, honey, c’mon.”
Breathless, your heart pounding now that there wasn’t a hand in your hair anymore, you got off your knees and, following his direction, rolled over on the bed.
“Shit,” Eddie commented appreciatively, just before he spanked you harshly. “Pop that up for me, honey.”
Grinning sheepishly, you buried your face in the pillow and lifted your stinging ass in the air for him.
“Fuck,” he gasped as the palm of his hand brushed over your pussy - yeah, you already knew you were dripping, and the humiliation of it made you flush. “You always get this wet just having a dick in your mouth?”
“It’s just you,” you mumbled weakly, which earned your another spank.
“Just me, huh?” Eddie replied, mockingly, making your face burn. “Not V? You’re telling me this pretty pussy’s dripping just because of me?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but he’d spanked you directly on your pussy this time, making you moan weakly.
“Fuck,” you gasped, burying your face in the pillows. You had a feeling that Venom would’ve teased you endlessly if you moaned for him, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it when your pussy was already this wet, but God, you’d never been more tempted.
Inside his head, Venom was sounding impressed, but he hadn’t revealed himself yet.
KEEP GOING, EDDIE. YOU WILL BREAK HER.
Keeping your head in the pillow, you spread your legs wider for him, trying to expose as much of your pussy as you could. Spurred on by Venom’s praise, Eddie grinned.
“Fucking glistening,” he laughed, running a finger delicately along your drenched pussy, sending sensitive nerves haywire. “What a pussy. I mean, Jesus…”
He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your damp inner thigh, and that simple, two-second touch had your mind speeding out of control with obscenities. No doubt about it, spreading your holes like this turned you on: you could feel your slick running down your inner thighs, and if your brain wasn’t jammed, you would’ve been begging for Eddie for Venom to come out, to finally fuck you.
Breathless with anticipation, you grabbed a fistful of pillows instead and waited patiently, keeping still.
Inside his head, Venom was chomping at the bit, too.
WHEN WILL YOU LET ME OUT, EDDIE?
Just give me a few more minutes, Eddie’s thoughts responded, a bit urgently.
He opted to pretend as though nothing had happened, keeping his control over you.
“Spread your legs more, baby. I want to see how turned on I made you.”
Moaning weakly, you did as he said, spreading your legs to reveal your glistening wet mess of a pussy: you had yet to touch yourself, or do anything to stop the spread of heat in your most sensitive spot, but you felt like if he didn’t touch you soon, you were going to go into cardiac arrest.
You closed your eyes and listen to him move closer.
Eddie’s hands were warm around your thighs, and you could feel him kiss both of your inner thighs - dear god, he’s about to kill you - before he kissed your clit, enveloping it with warmth. 
Everywhere. Oh God.
You gasped weakly. “Oh, Eddie…”
Again, Venom’s voice was a reassuring purr in Eddie’s ear.
YOU ARE UNRAVELLING HER, EDDIE. KEEP GOING.
“That feel good?” he whispered, kissing you softly again.
Well, fucking obviously: you were clutching the pillows above you with all your might, doing your best not to squirm in pleasure. “Eddie, please…”
You were so fucked out you couldn’t finish that sentence, but Eddie knew what it meant, and Venom did too.
LET ME OUT, EDDIE. YOU KNOW SHE WANTS IT.
“You need V, honey?” Eddie whispered from between your legs: he sensed from the growing warmth in his abdomen that he wouldn’t have control over his body for much longer, so he was determined to savour it for as long as he could.
You nodded weakly, flushed with pleasure - Eddie’s tongue may have been a natural, non-monstrous length, but it was pressed to your clit nonetheless, and it would’ve made anybody come after long enough. “Give him to me.”
That did it: Venom came out with a flourish, enveloping Eddie’s body entirely in black goo until he wasn’t Eddie anymore, but tendrilled and sticky and terrifying and one hundred percent Venom.
You almost came at the sight of him. “Oh, V…”
Venom’s tongue protruded from his mouth, licking clean his impressive row of fangs. His milky white eyes might’ve caused others to cower, but you stared directly into them, breathless. It was fascinating, really, how quickly Eddie had disappeared.
Venom’s voice was a deep purr, deeper than anything you’d ever heard.
DID YOU MISS ME, SWEET ANGEL?
“I did, V,” you gasped as a glittering black tendril snuck up your leg, “God, I - I want you so bad.”
Venom cocked his head to the side, watching you intently, like a predator watching its prey.
I TELL EDDIE THAT ALL THE TIME.
You gasped as the appendage finally breached your cunt, pulsating and sticky, giving you exactly the feeling of fullness you wanted. “Oh, Venom…”
The pillow you were clinging onto was gone in a second, replaced by two tendrils pinning your arms onto the bed. Before you knew it, two other tentacles were wrapping around your ankles, fully restricting your ability to move, and there you were, trapped on the bed as Venom was leering above you, his cock sliding in and out of you.
His pace was relatively slow, but you soaked up every pulsing inch succeeded inside of you, and every now and again, he’d make the tendril twist, bringing you closer to the edge every time.
I DON’T EVER THINK I’VE SEEN YOU THIS WET, SWEET ANGEL.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet, your thoughts responded incredulously, but all that came out was a choked, “Ngh!”
You were coming, you knew it, and it still hit you like a fucking freight train: the orgasm rushed through you as blood thundered to your brain, euphoria crashing over you at maximum intensity. Everything welling up inside of you just burst, and nothing had ever been so lovely.
You went deaf for a moment as the only thing you could hear was your heart absolutely pounding and the shrill ringing in your ears, but you knew you were gasping for breath, completely overtaken by this orgasm. You’d never tell Eddie, but it was Venom who knew how to pull orgasms from you like this, and only Venom, his glittering black cock absolutely destroying you from the inside out.
Of course, it was then Venom suddenly decided to slam his cock into you at full force, overstimulating you beautifully.
The confidence in his voice never wavered.
I KNOW YOU CAN TAKE IT, BEAUTIFUL GIRL. I HAVE SEEN YOU TAKE IT.
“Oh, Venom,” you were gasping over and over, but you couldn’t fully hear yourself over the ringing in your ears and the sounds of Venom’s glittering black tendril sliding in and out of your drenched, abused pussy, filling you up to the maximum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
He did the pulsating, twisting thing inside of you once again, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head: when he was pinning you down like this, you had nothing to hold onto, it was just you, the cock inside of you, and the threat of this monstrous creature swallowing you whole. “Oh my god, Venom!”
HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT EDDIE SEEING THIS, SWEET GIRL?
“Oh, fuck, Venom…” you moaned from underneath him, incoherent now as his cock pistoned in and out of you. You were blathering, but the message was clear: don’t fucking stop!
Venom was smug, now.
HOW DO YOU FEEL KNOWING I CAN TAKE YOU BETTER THAN EDDIE EVER COULD?
“You’re better than Eddie,” you mumbled incoherently as Venom ramped up speed, “Loads better than Eddie, I just - oh fuck - holy shit, V, keep going!”
WILL YOU COME FOR ME, SWEET ANGEL?
Yes, I will, your thoughts responded immediately, but actions spoke louder than words: your second orgasm ripped through you as your legs shook, you were pushed to the point of insanity. This one really took you by surprise compared to the first, but you revelled in it, your vision flashing with white as Venom fucked into you. You could feel your body sinking into the bed despite the restraints, spent, and you almost thought it was over, but–
Venom, of course, didn’t care.
COME FOR ME AGAIN, BEAUTIFUL GIRL.
“V,” you whispered weakly, your entire body damp with sweat from your last orgasm, “I - I don’t think I can, I just came.”
Above you, Venom absolutely snarled, and his tongue slithered down to force your legs even further apart.
WHEN I SAY COME, YOU COME!
A second, bigger tendril sank into your ass this time, and you gasped: you were filled, completely and utterly filled, and God, you’d be lying if it didn’t feel so fucking wonderful.
“I - I’m gonna come,” you blathered, blinking hard as the realization set in: you were about to come faster than you’d ever come in your life. “I - I’m gonna come, V, holy - oh my god-”
The words I’m coming were lost in your throat, but it didn’t matter: in a matter of seconds, you’d came for a third time, and the euphoria this time around was still there, yet with a bitter and harsh edge. Your body was exhausted, but your pussy was drenched, and all Venom knew was to keep fucking going, so–
You were gasping, half-deaf with your vision flashing with white, trying to make peace with the reality that Venom was going to fuck you until you passed out.
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lokis-wager · 1 year
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Which kind of tropes would you like to write in the future ?
Wings/Angel AU. Arranged marriage. More and different kinds of sex pollen fics. Bad end AU (when I'm in the mood to write about Odin winning Ragnarok lol). Some random kinks for various ships when I get around to it.
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msfantasy-comics · 9 months
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The Wayne Welcoming
Damian Wayne x Reader
Summary: A short story sequel to The Family Meet and Greet, where Y/n meets members of the Wayne Family one by one.
A/n: honestly… I don’t like what I wrote…. But it took me a whole month to write it - so I’m just going to publish it.
Masterlist - Tip Jar
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Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown
Steph keeps following Damian because she really wants to meet Y/n, Tim is following Steph to ensure her enthusiasm isn’t over exerted, as if it wasn’t already.
“Go away!” Damian shouts at the two who’s standing by the light post. Stephanie wearing her incognito hat and glasses. Whilst Tim just stands there out in the open with his hands in his pockets, not even attempting to hide himself unlike Steph, whose standing behind the thin pole as if it was a genuine hiding spot. Steph looks over her shoulder to see what Damian was talking about. As if her disguise wasn’t absolutely transparent. “Stop following me.”
Steph releases a small whine. “Aw but you two have been dating for like ever… I just want to meet her.”
“I don’t care, you weirdos will scare her off. I’ll never introduce her so long as I live.” Steph begins to swoon.
“Aw that’s so cute Dames, you’re such a protective boyfriend… too bad she’s here anyway.” Reaching her hand over Damian, Steph joyfully grabs your hand and begins to shake your hand with an unmatched enthusiasm. “Hi my name is Steph, and this is Tim! It’s so nice to finally meet you, Damian is sooo secretive! I tried to meet you like a million times but Damian always ruined our plans!” You begin to giggle, caught off guard for the unfiltered joy running off of Steph. Her over excited hand shake continues to the point of shaking your entire arm. Damian grits his teeth, ripping Stephs grasp from your own.
“Go. Away.” He says, eyes bearing into Stephanie’s soul, an earnest threat swimming in Damian’s ominous gaze. Steph winces at the sincere danger floating in the air.
“Alrighty, so what are we doing today?” Tim asks, immune from Damian’s demands.
“No. No. No. Go home. Right. Now. Or else I’ll call Conor to come get you.” The two besties look at each-other silently before laughing.
“… you know Conor would just join, he’s dying to meet Jon’s new friend.” Damian goes red in the face. You slug your arm around Damian’s shoulders in a friendly embrace.
“Come on, let’s seize this impromptu meeting! It could be fun!”
Jason Todd
You stood alone at the end of the red carpet, the cameras were flashing as arriving couples walk the velvet floor to have their photos taken before entering the Wayne’s Gala.
You looked around nervously, looking for Damian, waiting to walk the carpet with him. Instead, the ushers were rushing you to begin your walk alone.
Your requests to wait for your partner falling on deaf ears as they attempt to force you to walk the carpet by yourself. Panic filling you as the ushers continue to shout and push you towards to start of the velvet walk. You felt incredibly anxious to step out in front of the cameras, the attention was overwhelming.
Jason sucks his teeth, irritated that the ushers were putting unnecessary pressure and seemingly, ruining your night.
“The brat needs to pay better attention.” Jason mutters to himself, abandoning Roy with an eager gold-digger who is clearly not catching onto Roy’s disinterest. Walking up behind the beautiful girl. He loops his arm around your form, resting his hand on the small of your back.
“I’ve got things from here.” He guides you towards the velvet carpet and begins to stride slowly as the cacophony of shouts and flashing lights assault your senses. Jason digs his fingers into your side, grabbing your attention.
“Don’t pull faces, the press will run it for months.” He reminds you, pulling out his sparkling toothy smile.
You both walk the carpet together, before shortly reaching the entrance to the Gala.
“See first timer. It’s not so bad.” He says with his award-winning smile. His attention turns to a cranky Damian and Roy.
“I can’t believe you just ditched me like that.” Roy utters in betrayal as Jason shrugs unapologetically.
Dick Grayson
A drawn out yawn escapes Damian as he slowly stumbles into the sun room, ready to start the day with Alfred’s world famous onsen eggs.
But instead Damian is greeted by the most peculiar sight.
Shoulders touching, Damian sees his beloved girlfriend oddly cosy with his older brother Dick. More specifically, why the fuck is Dick slinging his arm around his girlfriends back, his chin resting on her shoulder as he looks down at the phone held in her hand. Giggles escaping the odd duo as they continue to watch whatever is on your screen.
Jealousy bubbles under Damian’s skin watching his brother touch his girlfriend in and oddly familiar way. This level of physical touch took Damian months to build up to, only for Dick to do it seemingly over night.
“Morning!” Dick beems seemingly, unbothered by the evasion of his girlfriends personal space.
“Morning Grayson. If you touch Y/n so familiarly again, I’ll break your fingers.” He threatens without so much as a blink.
The two sit, staring, only to break out in fits of laughter.
“Aw Dames! You’re such a protective boyfriend!” Dick cooes pulling Damian into a embrace, the scowl on his face looking dangerously similar to that of a cornered dog.
“Hehe, so protective.” Y/n also cooes, sandwiching Damian from the other side with a playful peck on his cheek.
“Oh god, now there’s two of you.” He mutters limply between his overly affectionate brother and partner.
Duke Thomas
The incessant buzzing amongst the couch cushions is ruining the heart-wrenching scene playing out on the TV screen.
On one hand, Duke is keen to remove the irritation immediately as to not further ruin his viewing experience.
On the other hand, Duke is not keen to relive the experience of finding Damian’s phone only to see a private message not meant for him.
However, the continuous vibrations running through the couch is grating on Dukes nerves. He cannot hold back any further. Stripping the cushions which were once perfectly place, moulding around his form, now strewn amongst the floor until Duke is able to find the black phone laying innocently under the seat covers.
Turning the screen he sees dozens of missed calls from Y/n.
Immediately, Dukes stomach drops to the floor as he quickly realises that Y/n may needed urgent help and instead of answering the phone like a normal person, Duke just tried to phase out the noise until it went away, all because of his favourite show.
Fumbling the phone, Duke quickly returns the call immediately, praying to any god that Y/n was okay and not dead just because he wanted to finish the last 7 minutes of the episode. God that would suck.
“Hello?” Y/n answers, her voice is shaky, as if confused.
“Erm-Y/n? It’s Duke, I found Damian’s phone and I saw your missed calls - AreYouOkay?” Duke blurts quickly. The line is silent for an uncomfortable amount of time because a snorting laughter blasts through the phone.
“Oh my god! Yes I’m okay! I was just calling Damian’s phone because he can’t find it! I promise I’m okay!” Giggles follow, which leaves Duke stunned.
“Why don’t you guys just use phone location services?” The line falls dead silent before another snorting laughter burst through the phone.
“Honestly I completely forgot that was even a thing! Hey do me a favour? Don’t tell Damian, I want to see how long it takes him to figure it out.” Oh Duke likes you. Damian’s loving girlfriend now pulling a harmless prank of the Wayne’s resident bad boy.
“Okay. $20 he finds the phone through some form of tech tracker.”
“$20 that he’ll use Goliath to try and locate his phone.” Oddly specific, but Duke is game.
Bruce Wayne
Damian would never willingly come to any Gala. Not without trickery, bribery, or blackmail encouragement.
But right now, Bruce stands in astonishment as Damian grills the poor event planner for not arranging for Y/n’s place at the VIP table.
“Everything has to be perfect. Please reset the table immediately.” Damian orders with crossed arms. Now examining the staff scrambling to reset the VIP table to ensure you had a place to dine next to him.
Shock was one synonym for what Bruce was feeling. He was sure Damian, would never set foot in the ball room, so long as he lived.
Yet to Bruce’s utter surprise, Damian pitched the gala event, hired the planners and set out the invitations.
Damian wasn’t just attending the gala… he was hosting the gala.
“I’m late for my red carpet walk with Y/n. Hurry up and finish.” Damian snaps, taking quick strides towards the exit.
Why was his dear son hosting a gathering he loathes attending? Why, it’s because Damian’s beloved girlfriend expressed her desire to one day attend such an event. She was in aw of the glitz and the glamour and wanted to try it at least once.
Instead of just taking his beloved partner to the next event. Damian insisted that if she was to attend, it will be the best gala she would ever attend.
So now, Bruce watches in delight as his children, who also never willingly attend a gala, along with Y/n boisterously bound around the hall, engaging with other guests, eating the hors d’oeuvres, clapping along to the entertainers and finally eating the delicious four courses whilst the MC engages the crowds interest, greasing the wallets of the wealthy for funding of social causes.
Damian’s eyes looking at his partner in adoration, gaging her delight at his hard work.
Y/n abandons her seat during the speeches to sit next to Bruce.
“Hi Mr. Wayne, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. My name is Y/n, it’s a pleasure to finally meet Damian’s father.” You smile shyly, sticking out your hand.
Your face is set with confidence, but your slightly shaky hand suggests your nerves are firing away with nervousness.
Smiling he takes his future daughter-in-laws hand and gives it a sturdy shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Y/n. Please, call me Bruce.”
Talia al Ghul
“So you’re the girl whose stolen my sons heart.” Your neck just about breaks, your startled heart thumping at the sudden presence. Your demeanour is reminiscent of a frighten bunny.
A scowl presses along her face in irritation and dissatisfaction. “You’re who Damian picked to partner with?” Her mocking tone dripping with venom.
“Uh… yes?” Y/n utters awkwardly, not quite sure what to say in the presence of Damian’s supposed mother.
She hums unamused. “This is going to be interesting.”
And just like that, she was gone.
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starlightkun · 3 months
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⏯ word count: 16.6k ⏯ warnings: general angst around not knowing what you’re doing with your life, the usual cursing ⏯ genre: fluff, suggestive/steamy but no actual smut, strangers to lovers, band au, punk drummer!sungchan, office worker!reader, not really badboy x good girl trope, more like sungchan has tattoos and reader is… a bit boring and hates her job. but she’s trying!, reader is having a quarter life crisis, ft. shotaro/eunseok/wonbin as sungchan’s bandmates, and nct dream 00 line as reader’s normal friends™ ⏯ author’s note: take a shot every time i say ‘tattoos’ in this fic, and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning! ⏯ sequel ⏯ now playing… quarter life – txt | NEED (ooo-eee) – løren | medicine – woz
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“If you really want to do something brand new…” Sungchan took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”
“You still haven’t told me what you do.”
“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”
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“Y/N’s hit her quarter-life crisis,” Jaemin announced for you as the two of you joined your other friends at dinner.
You groaned and dropped your head in your hands, already regretting telling him your idea.
“24…” Renjun muttered to himself, then said louder, “Hey, life expectancy of 96, not bad.”
“So what is it?” Donghyuck grinned. “A tattoo? Nipple piercings? I can’t see any hair dye or choppy bangs done with kitchen scissors, so—”
“Don’t give her any ideas.” Jaemin shot him a disapproving look.
“So she doesn’t know what her quarter-life crisis is going to be yet? She’s… planning it out?” Jeno asked skeptically.
“No. She’s decided to do one spontaneous and/or new thing every day,” Jaemin explained your idea to the group.
“Oh. That’s not so bad.”
“So you’re in your manic pixie dream girl era… at 24,” Renjun nodded slowly.
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter as you went to defend yourself. “It’s not a… thing. I’m just tired of feeling like my whole life is filler, okay?”
“Main character syndrome,” Donghyuck declared.
“No, I’m not going to expect the entire world to revolve around me and call random people in public NPCs,” you retorted. “I just want something different in my life, alright? You know I’ve never even gotten drunk?”
“24 is not the time to start,” Renjun stated disapprovingly.
“Exactly, we’re not 19. Can’t get blackout and snap back the next day anymore.” Jaemin shook his head.
Donghyuck looked a bit miffed at Jaemin’s advice. “Speak for yourself.”
“I’ve barely been tipsy,” you pointed out.
“So you’ve always had a prefrontal cortex, unlike us. Congrats,” Jeno shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing?”
“I’m the boring friend, aren’t I?”
“Boring isn’t bad!” Donghyuck tried to reassure you.
“So I am,” you huffed, dropping your cheek into your palm.
“You’re plenty of fun, Y/N,” Jaemin promised, rubbing your arm soothingly.
“If we didn’t like you, and didn’t have fun with you, we wouldn’t hang out with you,” Jeno pointed out, actually sort of making you feel a little better.
“I’m fun like rotting in bed all day is fun.” You knew you were just pouting now, but you were finding it hard to shake your sullen feeling.
“Exactly!” Donghyuck said brightly.
“Shut up!” Jaemin hissed at him, and you heard a sudden yelp as you imagined that Jaemin had kicked your other friend under the table.
“Y/N, do what you need to do.” Renjun leaned forward across the table. “We’re your friends, so here’s the obligatory: don’t die, don’t get maimed, and if you do something illegal, don’t get arrested.”
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I’m not even doing crazy things. Yesterday I walked home instead of taking the subway,” you informed them glumly.
“That’s new!” Jaemin cheered supportively, squeezing your shoulders.
“Yeah, whatever…”
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Clutching your tote bag strap tighter to your body, you turned onto a street, trying to ignore the sun that was getting lower in the sky. Surely this way would lead towards your apartment. You’d lived in this city your whole life, you could walk from your work to your home, two places that you went to every single day.
There was a tall man outside one of the shops on this street, and you went to skirt around him on the sidewalk as he swept a few stray leaves and dirt out of a bookstore. Other than him, the street was fairly quiet, many of the stores having already closed up for the day.
“What are you doing?” The young man called out to you before you could fully pass him by.
You pivoted around on your heel, quickly looking around to see if there was anybody else that he could possibly be talking to. But it was definitely just you and him.
He looked about your age, wearing a cream pink long-sleeve button down presumably as part of the store uniform, though you weren’t sure if he really needed to have it buttoned all the way to the top button. It seemed a bit too warm out for that.
“Walking. Why?”
“This is the fourth time you’ve walked by here.” He did a sweeping point to the sidewalk in front of the shop, then leaned against the broom he had been cleaning with. “Wasn’t sure if you might have a particular destination in mind.”
“Fuck! I knew I was going in circles!”
“You’re lost.”
“Yeah, this isn’t my normal way home…”
“And your phone died?” He cocked his head curiously.
“No, I’m trying to get home without using my phone map,” you admitted, looking around for any familiar landmarks.
“Why? That’s what it’s for.”
“It’s… You’ll think it’s stupid. My friends did.”
He shrugged. “Probably. But why does that matter to you? I’m just some guy.”
“I’ve been doing something new every day. Just small things. But if I change enough little things, then everything will have changed.”
The guy was quiet for a beat, looking altogether unimpressed, then asked, “Where do you live?”
“Uh…”
“General area, see if I can give you directions from here.”
“Oh, uhm, if you can get me to the tea shop on Magnolia, I can get myself home from there.”
“Jade Gardens, I know it,” he nodded, then pointed left down the street, in the same direction that you had just come from. “That way, left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, another right onto Broad Street, it’ll eventually dead end into Magnolia, keep going until you see the tea shop.”
“Left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, right onto Broad,” you recited. “Got it, thank you!”
“Stay safe.” He waved you off, returning to sweeping without seeing if you had gone the way he’d pointed you.
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It was Monday that you got lost and were given directions home by the questionably friendly but overall helpful bookstore worker, and the tea shop on Magnolia had been on your mind since. So on Thursday, you decided to stop by after work. You were running low on the green tea that you usually kept in stock at home, and thought that you might pick up something new for yourself.
Opening the door to Jade Gardens that Thursday, you were enveloped by the familiar aromatic smells wafting around the small shop. When you didn’t hear the usual kind voice of the owner, Mrs. Choi, greeting you, you peered around the aisle that you were in to look for her.
“Mrs. Choi?” You called out, also not hearing her TV show that she usually was watching behind the counter between helping customers. You were by the black teas anyway, so you didn’t mind wandering into the next aisle as you looked for any other sign of life in the shop.
“She’s not in,” a voice that was definitely not Mrs. Choi informed you right as you turned the corner into the beginning of the green teas. You could see enough of the man’s profile to recognize him as he stood by some of the shelves in the store. The worker from the bookstore. He was standing over an open cardboard box, a couple tins of tea in his hands.
“Uhm…” You trailed off, blinking at him as you weren’t sure exactly what to say. He placed the tins on the shelf.
“You think I’m stalking you, don’t you?” He said flatly, turning to show you the name badge on his longsleeve teal shirt. It was metallic gold, with the name SUNGCHAN engraved into it. “I work here too. For the past six months.”
“Oh, right.” You relaxed, flashing him a smile. As he went back to restocking and you went back to looking at the tea on the shelves that he wasn’t currently stocking, you commented lightly, “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I work Tuesdays and Thursdays. You ever been here on a Tuesday or a Thursday?”
“No. I always come on Sundays.”
“There you go.” He had emptied the box of product he was restocking from, and carried it into the back. When he reemerged, he stopped behind the register, but engaged you in conversation again, “So is this your new thing for today? Coming on a Thursday instead of Sunday?”
“Yeah.”
“And? Is your whole life different yet?”
“I’ve only been doing this for two weeks…” You replied defensively, looking over at him from the two kinds of green tea that you were debating between.
“Have you done anything new yet?” Sungchan asked, arching an eyebrow.
“That’s the whole point—”
“From what I know, as some guy who doesn’t even know your name, is that you have walked home from work without using the maps on your phone—something you would have done anyway—and gone to a shop that you go to regularly, just on a different day of the week. Have you done anything that you’ve never done before at all?”
“My name is Y/N, by the way.” You bit the inside of your cheek, and grabbed your tea selection. “Ordering a drink I’ve never tried at my usual boba place doesn’t count, does it?”
“You already know the answer, Y/N.”
“The point isn’t to quit my job and travel the world and completely overhaul my life—”
“I thought it was to change everything?”
“If I change enough little things, then—”
“—everything will have changed.” “—everything will have changed.” The two of you finished at the same time, Sungchan putting more emphasis on ‘everything,’ a pointed look on his face.
“I just don’t get how everything is supposed to change by you coming to a tea shop on a different day one time, but still working the same job you hate,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“How do you know I hate my job?!” You retorted, bringing your selections up to the counter.
“If you loved it, you wouldn’t be in a crisis about changing your whole life.”
“Do you like your two jobs?”
“They’re fine.” He shrugged, ringing up your purchases.
You handed him your card. “Fine?”
“They’re just my day jobs.”
“And what’s your night job then?”
A smirk grew on his face as he bagged your tins of tea. “Nah.”
“‘Nah?’” You repeated incredulously.
“You’re not doing anything new. No point telling you.”
“If it’s stand-up, I don’t want to know,” you snorted.
“It’s not stand-up.”
“Mm, I don’t know, you’re giving me real stand-up energy right now,” you snipped, gesturing to his entire demeanor. “I’m really glad you haven’t told me, actually, because I can’t control my face when I’m told bad jokes.”
“I don’t do stand-up comedy,” he reiterated with the same calm, self-assured tone, handing you your bag of tea and receipt.
“Considering you’re refusing to tell me, I’m convinced it’s like, open mic nights. Tight fives, not even a full—”
“Not stand-up,” he said again. “But considering how badly you’re begging me to tell you—”
“Pretty sure you’re the one desperately trying to convince me you don’t do stand-up, but—”
“If you really want to do something brand new…” He took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”
You accepted the receipt when he held it back out to you. “You still haven’t told me what you do.”
“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”
Your eyes scanned the address and time he had scrawled on your receipt. “Mosh pit?”
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“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck declared from beside you as soon as your group of friends entered the basement of the building that Sungchan had given you the address to. It was already packed with people, dark, and loud.
“Nobody drink anything!” Jaemin hissed, clutching onto your other arm. “Especially Y/N! Getting drunk is one thing, I don’t want getting roofied to be on your bucket list.”
“It’s not, Jaem,” you retorted. “Trust me.”
“Why the fuck are we here again?” Renjun yelled from behind you over the din of the crowd.
“Y/N met some hot guy—Ow!” Donghyuck had gotten cut off by you stomping on his foot.
“Sorry, it’s so crowded in here!” You glared at him. “I didn’t say anything about what he looked like. I needed something new to do for today, this seemed as good an option as any.”
“Okay, well, what the hell is this? Basement party?” Jeno asked, next to Renjun.
“I think it’s a concert?” You couldn’t see anything over the heads of the other people. “He said something about a mosh pit…”
They all exchanged a look.
“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck repeated.
A roaring started up in the crowd, and you looked around in bewilderment to see what had gotten them all excited. In the far corner of the basement, it looked like a band was getting set up to play, two guitarists, a bassist, but it was the drummer that made you do a double take. You couldn’t be quite sure from the distance, the poor lighting, and the fact that the tank top he was wearing exposed two sleeves of tattoos along rather defined arms that you had never previously seen unclothed, but… that might just be Sungchan.
“We need to get closer,” you declared to your friends, yanking Jaemin along with you.
“What?!” Renjun yelped, following you nevertheless.
“Did you forget the part where he apparently said mosh pit?” Donghyuck scrambled after you.
“At least let Jeno be our human shield!” Jaemin pleaded with you.
“Thanks for volunteering me, Jaemin,” Jeno snorted, but willingly took the role, stepping in front of you to clear a path a bit easier than you had been doing on your own.
The five of you stuck out a bit, you noticed. You hadn’t exactly been given a dress code, nor a description of what to expect, so you did unfortunately stick out like a sore thumb among all the black, leather, and more black. It wasn’t that you were wearing a rainbow so much as you were clearly wearing something… uptight in comparison. Corporate. All you had was work clothes, and stuff to go to work dinners in. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to something even remotely like this. You’d done your best to dress down without wearing pajamas, but it was obvious that you were out of place.
Finally, you got close enough to the band to be able to make out the drummer’s face. He was looking down, making a final adjustment to his instrument, and when he looked back up, he pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. Definitely Sungchan. So this was his night job. Drummer. For just a second, his gaze flicked over the crowd, and you couldn’t be absolutely sure—after all, it was packed in there—but you swore he saw you for a second, surprise on his features for a moment before a cocky smirk overtook it.
One of the guitarists said something, they all had mics, you were pretty sure he was introducing the band or something, but this close to the speakers, all you could do was feel the words in your chest, not hear them with your ears. And when the music actually started, you felt like it was rearranging your brain matter. The crowd didn’t seem to really know the songs, as nobody sang along, but they were having fun nonetheless, dancing, jumping, and headbanging. As you got on your tiptoes to keep peering over Jeno’s shoulder at Sungchan, you found yourself bouncing along to the beat. Someone must have bumped into Renjun, as he stumbled into your back, and you let out a squeak and latched onto Jeno’s shoulders to avoid losing your balance.
“What is going on back there?” Jeno turned around.
You looked back at Renjun as well, who was now squeezing himself in between you and Donghyuck. Just behind and to the side of you, closer to the middle of the crowd, something was going on. Everyone was moving around a lot more, and… shoving each other?
“Mosh pit,” Renjun shook his head.
You kept your grip on Jeno’s shoulders, using them as leverage to stay on your tiptoes as you watched the performance. They had a lot of passion, you couldn’t deny that. You thought that maybe if you could actually parse out more of the melody and words being sung, you might even like their music.
Then it was over after what felt like less than a handful of songs. One of the guitarists seemed to thank the crowd briefly as Sungchan sat and spun one of his drumsticks mindlessly. And then they were done. The guitarists and bassist took their instruments with them as they disappeared into an adjoining room, and Sungchan stood up and took his sticks.
“They’re done, are we done?” Renjun requested.
“Sure, sure,” you agreed, having satiated your curiosity.
Back on the street, everyone let out a simultaneous breath of relief. Your lungs were happy to be inhaling fresh air again, and the sounds of the city streets at night felt quiet in comparison to that basement.
“My ears are ringing,” Jaemin groaned.
“Mine are bleeding,” Donghyuck scoffed.
“They weren’t that bad, Hyuck,” you rolled your eyes.
“Okay, which one was he?” He pointed an accusing finger at you. “Bookstore-slash-tea shop guy. Which one was he?”
“What?”
“He was in the band, wasn’t he? That’s why he invited you, that’s why you’re not agreeing with me right now. No way you actually liked that noise. So? Which one?”
“You’re annoying.”
“Bet he was the bassist,” Renjun took a crack at guessing. “Totally your type, Y/N.”
“I think it was the frontman, he would’ve been the only one shameless enough to beg for girls to come to their shows,” Jaemin retorted.
“Definitely not the drummer, did you see those tattoos? Our Y/N wouldn’t have gone to some random address that a guy like that gave her,” Jeno snickered.
“I’m not prejudiced, assholes,” you replied, a bit miffed when Jaemin and Renjun nodded their heads in agreement at Jeno’s assessment.
Jaemin gently reassured you, “No, of course not. You just… stick to what you know.”
“Says the four guys who were begging to leave. I thought I was supposed to be the boring friend?”
“There’s a difference between being fun and patently stupid,” Renjun snorted. “Going to a random address that some weird guy gives you falls into the second category.”
“I think it was the drummer,” Donghyuck announced, narrowing his eyes at you. “He invited you, didn’t he, Y/N?”
You poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “He was wearing longsleeves…”
“Knew it,” he grinned victoriously. “The other guitarist was blonde. Blondes aren’t your type.”
“So I’m predictable even when I’m trying to be unpredictable?” You groaned.
“Uh-huh.”
“We’re still getting food, right?” Jeno asked hopefully.
“Hell yeah,” Donghyuck threw an arm around your neck and shook you around. “On Y/N!”
You elbowed him in the side. “Yes to food, fuck no I’m not paying for you again Hyuck. Freeload off someone else.”
“It’s not freeloading, it’s compensation, for the damage that your boyfriend’s shitty band did to my eardrums.”
“I don’t even know him, you dick.” You shoved him off you this time, inadvertently directly into Renjun, who complained loudly at being collateral damage. “Sorry, Renjun.”
“Push him off a bridge next time, not into me,” he scoffed, straightening his clothes.
“You’ve got to stop letting him rile you up, Y/N,” Jaemin advised you, looping his arm with yours.
“Says the man who was literally threatening to run him over two days ago.”
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On Monday, you walked down the street with a particular destination in mind this time. You pushed the door to the bookstore open, making the bell above it ring lightly. The inside smelled like old books and pine.
“Sorry, we’re actually about to…” Sungchan trailed off when he looked up from the register and spotted you.
“Are you closing? I can go,” you offered, already sheepishly backing up towards the exit again.
“No, you can stay. Just turn the closed sign around and flip the lock for me, will you?” He gestured to the door.
You did so, and took a few hesitant steps further into the shop as he went back to closing out the register. You were admittedly staring at him a little, trying to line up the visage of the tattooed drummer you’d seen at the show with the man in a cream pink button-up in front of you, no visible body art in sight. His hair was nicely parted and styled to show some of his forehead; he could even blend in at your office.
“Wasn’t expecting you to actually show up,” Sungchan said, pushing the drawer of the register closed.
You rolled your eyes. “Do I really seem like that much of a drag?”
“You’re wearing a pantsuit.”
“It’s a blazer and slacks! That’s not—” You looked down at your own clothes, cutting yourself off with a huff. “Point taken. From the man wearing a pink button-up.”
“Uniform.” He indicated to the shop around him generally. “I’d wear the short-sleeve option, but I have to look… how’d Mr. Kang put it? Respectable.”
“Mm, of course. I almost didn’t recognize you without the sleeves and with the… sleeves,” you finished awkwardly, trying not to picture his biceps right in that moment.
He chuckled, sitting down on a stool behind the counter. “So who was the guy?”
It took you a second to follow his leap in conversation, and even then, you didn’t quite stick the landing, only able to explain, “The guys were my friends. You told me to bring some, if you’ll recall.”
“I meant the one that you were hanging onto the whole time.”
“I didn’t realize you were watching me the whole time,” you teased, tilting your head.
“You picked a spot right in front of me. Couldn’t help but notice.”
“Jeno is my friend, as I just said. He’s sturdy, I was trying not to fall over.”
Sungchan looked at his phone. “Have you done your new thing for today?”
“By your standards? No.”
He stood up, grabbing a backpack from the ground to sling over his shoulder and jerked his head towards a narrow hallway behind him. “Come on.”
With the voice of Jaemin nagging you in the back of your mind, you followed him. At the end of the hallway was the back door of the bookstore, which led you into the alleyway between rows of shops. Sungchan locked up behind you, then dropped his bag at his feet and opened it.
“Where are we going?” You questioned.
“Food. You haven’t had dinner, have you?” He replied, starting to unbutton his shirt from the collar.
You failed to come up with an answer as he untucked it and slipped one arm out. “What are you doing?”
“Changing my shirt.” He stared back at you, the button up hanging off of one arm. You could see now that the tattoos extended onto his pecs as well. “Turn around if you want.”
Feeling like you were losing some kind of challenge, you turned your back to him, continuing your previous conversation instead. “No, I haven’t eaten.”
“Neither have I.” The zipper on the bag opened.
“But what if I’ve been to the place before?”
“I don’t think you have.” Zipped back up.
“If you told me the name—”
“Ready,” Sungchan declared, stepping up next to you. He was now in a dark shirt that had the logo of what you were sure was another band on it, and a worn leather jacket with an assortment of patches. He ran his fingers through his hair, intentionally shaking it out of the nice style from before and into a more natural, messy state. He took off down the alley, leaving you to follow after him.
“You’re not going to tell me the name of the place we’re going, are you?” You sighed.
“No.”
“What if I have allergies?”
“Do you?”
“…No.”
Sungchan turned down another street. “You left early. You missed the other bands.”
“Didn’t know there were other bands, and my friends were hungry.” You shrugged, opting not to tell him that your friends hated his music and had been begging you to leave. And that you didn’t put up a fight about going.
“Leaving after four songs to get food. Your friends sound lame.”
“They’re fun,” you immediately went to defend them. “I’m the boring one out of us. They’ve at least actually gotten drunk.”
The two of you had reached a crosswalk with the stop hand lit up. You stopped and pressed the button to wait for it to change. Sungchan paused just long enough to look both ways, then took your elbow in a loose grip and pulled you into the empty crosswalk.
“Let’s go.”
“What are you—”
“There’s nobody coming.” His hand slid down your arm to grab your hand as he walked backwards in front of you, gesturing widely with his other arm. “See? Not the end of the world.”
“I’m going to laugh if you trip over the curb behind you,” you informed him mildly, already eyeing the approaching sidewalk.
“If I fall, I’m taking you down with me.” He grinned.
“And you’ll break my fall.”
“Like in every good rom-com.”
“Are we making bets on if you’ll have a first- or second-degree concussion from hitting your head on the pavement?”
Sungchan turned around then, just in time to step up onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. He smiled down at you smugly, and you made a small ‘hmph’ sound in the back of your throat. You noted that he didn’t let go of your hand as you kept walking. You didn’t shake him off.
“How far away is this place?” You checked the time on your phone. “I have work in the morning.”
“Not too far. I can’t be out late either. I have practice tonight.”
“You called the bookstore and the tea shop your day jobs, and the band is your night job…”
“Uh-huh.”
“We didn’t have to pay a cover or anything to get in on Friday. How much does your night job actually pay?”
“That one was for fun. And a twelve-pack,” he answered nonchalantly. “Where we are now, a gig is a gig.”
“They paid you in beer and exposure?” You summarized dryly.
“It was just a friend’s basement, not a real concert venue or anything.”
“Oh, underground. Literally.”
He snorted. “You’re hilarious.”
“I try.”
“Maybe you should do stand-up.”
“No thanks, my day job is paying me just fine.”
He clicked his tongue. “And yet you hate it.”
“Your words, not mine.”
“You’ve yet to tell me otherwise.”
You sighed, but unfortunately, you couldn’t outright disagree with him. The two of you turned onto another street, where you bumped up into the back of a line for a food truck. Sungchan stopped you there, letting go of your hand to reach into his jacket and pull out his wallet.
“You got cash on you?” He asked, flicking through the bills in his wallet.
“No, do I need some?” You only had your phone and your credit cards.
“They’re cash only,” he nodded towards the food truck. “It’s fine, I’ll pay.”
“Sungchan, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “We can just eat somewhere else.”
“My idea, you didn’t know, I’ll pay.” He shook his head. The line moved up then, and he urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back. “Unless you think I’m broke because I don’t have some office job that I hate like you.”
“I didn’t say that! But you did just tell me you recently got paid in beer and exposure.”
“And have two other jobs,” he reminded you.
You didn’t outright accept his offer, but didn’t argue anymore. Getting on your tiptoes, you tried to look for a menu over the other customers in line.
“What do they even have?”
“Changes every week. We’ll find out when we order.”
“What if you don’t like what they’re selling this week?”
“What do I keep telling you? Live a little.”
“Fine.” You dropped back down to flat feet with a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know about this place?”
“Couple of my friends run it, when they’re not playing.”
“They’re in a band too?”
“Uh-huh. That’s why it’s only open once a week. They’re performing or rehearsing every other day.” The line moved up again.
“Why have a food truck then? Food trucks run on narrow margins, they can’t be making enough money to cover their living expenses if they only do it once a week.”
“It’s not their day job. Music is.” He pointed to a piece of paper that was taped onto the side of the truck, the handwriting so faded you could barely make it out. Sungchan told you what it said anyway, “All the profits go to a local women’s shelter. And a lot of their ingredients and other stuff is donations, makes the margins a little less narrow.”
When you looked up at him curiously, he simply added, “The most punk thing you can do is help people.”
The two of you were finally at the front of the line, and a man’s head popped into view at the window. With the t-shirt he had on, you could see the tattoos that seemed to cover every inch of skin from his knuckles to his neck, the ink looking well-settled. He had gauges in his ears, the jewelry a bright rainbow of colors, and you couldn’t even count how many other piercings he had in addition to those. He seemed older than yourself and Sungchan, maybe late thirties or even early forties if you had to guess, a few specks of grey peppering his stubble.
He flashed Sungchan a bright smile as soon as he recognized him, deep crow’s feet around his eyes. “Hey, Sungchan! How are you? Sorry we missed your set Friday, SooSoo was up all night with a fever.”
“Don’t worry about it. Is she feeling better?” Sungchan asked.
“Yep, fever finally broke at like three in the morning Saturday, back to her normal self by Sunday.”
“Good to hear.”
“Anyway, let’s get you some food. I’m sure you didn’t bring your girl all the way out here to hear about my sick baby,” the older man chuckled.
Sungchan just laughed along and put in your orders. When the man turned around to help the other worker, a woman, prepare the food, you looked up at him suspiciously.
“Hm?” He had apparently noticed your look. “Oh, sorry, he was talking about his daughter, Yeonsoo. She’s… oh probably six months old now? Real cute.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Here you go.” The man was back at the window, two paper baskets of food in hand.
Sungchan went to grab a few bills out of his wallet. “How much?”
“On the house.”
“Jay, come on. Seriously, man, how much?”
“I’m serious, no charge tonight.” Jay shook his head. “You’ve never brought a date. So say thank you, don’t keep her waiting, and stop holding up my line.”
Sungchan sighed, stuffing the bills he had already grabbed into the tip jar that was on the counter and taking the food. “Thanks, man.”
“Goodnight, you two!” Jay sent you off with a jovial wave. Before you got too far, you could’ve sworn you heard a woman’s voice ask from inside the truck, “Did you say Sungchan had a date with him?”
The drummer handed you a basket of food as you started a meandering pace down the sidewalk. You took a bite to avoid talking about what just happened, despite the fact that it was very much the only thing you were thinking about.
“Oh, that’s really good,” you said, unable to contain your tone of pleasant surprise.
“I wasn’t going to take you somewhere shit for your new thing,” he replied.
“So if I told you that I had already completed my new thing for today, we would’ve gone somewhere with bad food?”
“Well, no, because I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“Oh, of course,” you scoffed.
“You probably would’ve counted going to see me at the bookstore as your something new, right?”
“I’ve never done that before. I don’t know how that doesn’t count.”
“You have talked to me at the bookstore before. When I gave you directions.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t on purpose. And I didn’t go into the store, and it wasn’t like, a real conversation.”
“Still doesn’t count.”
“And who assigned you to decide if something counts or not? This is my thing.”
“You’re the one listening to me. I’m just some guy, remember? You could’ve told me to fuck off at any point.” He took a big bite of his food, wiping at the stray crumbs around his mouth with the back of his hand. “So either you’re really easy to peer pressure—which I doubt, considering you’ve never even gotten drunk—or you actually kind of agree with me.”
You were silent, scowling down at your rather delicious food.
“Which is it? Want me to fuck off or am I maybe kinda right?”
“Why do you even care?” You questioned in lieu of an answer. “I’m just someone who you gave directions to one time. Why do you care if I actually change my whole life with my stupid little plan?”
“Who said I care?”
“Then what is all this?”
“I’m not trying to be your life coach, Y/N.” Sungchan shrugged, then his features split into a grin. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be along for the ride.”
You stared down at your feet as you thought about it, about how different Sungchan’s life was from yours just from the brief glimpses you’d gotten of it. Looking back up at him, you nodded. “I could probably use some help brainstorming new things…”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
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“Hell no.”
Sungchan grabbed your arm before you could turn and walk away from him completely. When he’d texted you the address to meet at, you thought that surely the online maps listing hadn’t been updated recently, and it was actually a restaurant or concert venue, or any other litany of things. But no, you were in fact standing in front of a tattoo shop with Sungchan, as your something new for today.
“Not for you, not for you,” he quickly reassured you. “I’m getting a new one. Have you ever been in a tattoo shop?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the darkened windows apprehensively. “No…”
“I promise you’ll make it out alive,” he teased, to which you shot him an unamused glare. “Let’s go.”
Inside was surprisingly quiet. Rock music played over the speakers at a low volume, and there was already one artist set up with a client, the tattoo gun buzzing as she worked on a large piece on their calf. But really, you’d been in libraries that were louder. Sungchan guided you over to the front desk with a hand on your back, the man behind it already standing up to greet him.
“Sungchan, hey!” The guy beamed, reaching out to shake Sungchan’s free hand. He was younger, around your age, maybe a few years older, with a patchwork sleeve of dozens of colorful, bold tattoos along his arms.
“Hey, Johnny,” Sungchan shook his hand. “How are you?”
“Just got back from doing guest slots out of town, so I’m happy to get back in the groove of my usual shop.” Johnny’s twinkling eyes then focused on you. “And who’s this?”
“This is Y/N.” Sungchan seemed to smoothly sidestep mentioning who you were in relation to him. “You don’t mind if she hangs out during my appointment, right? One guest?”
“Not at all.” The artist then picked up a tablet from the counter. “Let me show you what I’ve got drawn up, hm?”
You peered around Sungchan curiously as they went over the design. It was a black and grey circle of flowers, leaves, thorns, and branches all interwoven together. A few birds hovered along the outside of it. In the corner of the canvas that the sketch was on, you could see the reference photos that Johnny had used, of an old porcelain plate that looked like it belonged in your grandmother’s china cabinet, not on a punk drummer's skin.
“It’s great, man. You nailed it,” Sungchan gave his approval.
“And for placement, you said your back, right?”
“Yeah, I was thinking left shoulder blade?” He shook off his jacket, grabbed the collar of his tank top and took it off in one go. Both him and Johnny moved around so Sungchan could see his own back in the full-length mirror propped up on a nearby wall.
“If you fill up the rest of your back in the future, you’ll have an odd hole in the middle of that shoulder from the center of this tattoo,” Johnny pointed out, tracing where the gap would be on Sungchan’s otherwise bare skin with his tablet stylus. “Unless you were to add something in the middle of this design later on. Depending on the size we do now, that might be difficult.”
“That’s a couple options. What else you think? Upper middle?”
“Yeah, centering it will look good, whether or not you fill the rest of your back, and even if you leave the middle of the ring empty,” Johnny agreed.
“Center it is then.”
“How big are you thinking?” Johnny held his hands up parallel to each other at the top of Sungchan’s spine. “This? A little bigger? I wouldn’t go any smaller or you’ll lose detail.”
“Bigger.”
Johnny moved his bottom hand down. “Hm?”
“Yeah, about that much?”
“I’ll print a couple sizes and we’ll see how it looks.”
As Johnny sat back at the desk to print out the stencils, you walked over to Sungchan, keeping your eyes on his face.
“Whose plate is that?” You asked curiously.
“How do you know I didn’t just find it on the internet and like the design?” He tilted his head.
“The cottagecore vibes really don’t match the rest of your work.”
He looked down at his own forearms and laughed. “Okay, fair. It’s my grandmother’s.”
“Hm.” You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the idea.
Johnny returned then with a couple different stencil sizes, and he and Sungchan went back to the mirror. After determining the size of the design, the area was prepped, and the stencil applied. You watched with interest as the design was transferred from the paper to Sungchan’s skin in purple ink.
“Go check that in the mirror,” Johnny instructed.
Sungchan stood back up from where he had laid down for the application, using a second mirror in his hand to look at it closer. He motioned with his head for you to join him. “What do you think? Is it centered?”
You got up from the stool that you had been given to walk over to the mirror as well, standing behind Sungchan to evaluate the placement of the stencil. “Stand up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, you know you slouch?”
Johnny snickered from his seat.
Squinting one eye closed, then the other, you finally gave a short nod. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“That’s the best you can hope for with her, Johnny,” Sungchan joked, returning to the padded table to lay down. “‘Fine.’”
You rolled your eyes, but took your seat on the side opposite from the tattoo artist anyway.
“High praise. Let’s do it,” Johnny grinned.
As Johnny got to work, you watched the first few strokes of his tattoo gun with interest, as the ink was deposited into Sungchan’s skin.
“You have any tattoos, Y/N?” Johnny asked, not looking up from his work.
“No,” you replied. Looking at Sungchan’s face next, which was mostly concealed by his arms and the pillow, he didn’t have any outward expression of pain. “Does it… hurt?”
The both of them chuckled, and you tried not to feel patronized, then Sungchan answered, “You ever been scratched by a cat?”
“Yeah…”
“It’s like that, but worse, and continuously.”
“Doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“It’s worse if you’re by bone,” Johnny added. “Or other sensitive areas.”
“Again, doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“An hour or so of unpleasantness in exchange for a lifetime of a cool tattoo,” Sungchan said in a tone of voice that made you think he would’ve shrugged if it weren’t for the tattoo gun currently on his upper back. “Easy trade-off if you ask me.”
“So how did you two meet?” Johnny’s voice didn’t carry any judgment, if anything he almost sounded amused.
“She came by the bookshop,” Sungchan answered simply. “You know, one of my day jobs.”
“Now that makes sense. No offense, Y/N, but you seem much more like a bookstore and coffee shops kind of girl than a basement mosh pit regular.”
You nodded slowly. “None taken… What you see is what you get with me.”
“Oh, she’s been trying new things,” Sungchan chuckled. “She’s been to a show.”
“And? What’d you think?” Johnny looked up at you eagerly.
You were a bit caught off-guard. Sungchan hadn’t even asked you if you liked his band’s performance. He’d commented on the fact that you’d showed up, who you were with, and that you left without seeing the other bands perform. But he never asked if you liked it.
“It was different for me,” you admitted. “Good different. I had fun.”
“Yeah, they’ve got a lot of heart, don’t they?” You could see the tug of Johnny’s smile at the corner of his mouth.
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At the end of the appointment, Sungchan had one new tattoo and you were hungry. After paying Johnny and giving the artist your goodbyes, the two of you stepped back out onto the sidewalk in front of the tattoo parlor. It was dark out already, and you looked up at the moon, just past the streetlamp shining down on you.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Sungchan declared. “Dinner?”
“Sure,” you agreed. “But, I pick. I’ve already done my one new thing for today, and I’m craving fries.”
“Hard to argue with that.”
The place you had in mind was only a few blocks away from Johnny’s tattoo shop. As soon as you walked in, however, you wanted to turn back around. But you were craving fries and had already been spotted. Jeno perked up curiously from behind the counter, giving you a friendly wave. Honestly, you should’ve considered this as a possibility when you brought Sungchan into his place of work. You smiled back as you stepped up to the register.
“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you brightly, clearly interested in who you had with you, but not outright asking as his gaze strayed over to Sungchan.
“Hey, Jeno,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were working tonight.”
“Coworker got sick, I picked up a shift,” he explained. “So what can I get you? Your usual?”
“Just the fries and milkshake.” You then pointed to Sungchan with your thumb. “And whatever he wants. I’m paying.”
“Y/N—” Sungchan was clearly about to argue.
“You got it last time. Kind of.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “And they take card here. So order.”
He held his hands up. “Alright, alright.”
Picking a table in the corner as far from the cash register as you could get, you waited for Jeno to call your order number out as usual. Except this time he brought the food right out to your table on a tray. You eyed him suspiciously as he walked over.
“Here’s your food,” he smiled brightly at the both of you, taking the food off the tray to set the individual items in front of you.
“Right, thanks, Jeno,” you said. When he was still standing there after he was done, you looked at him more pointedly, “I’m not tipping you again if that’s what you’re waiting for. Goodbye, Jeno.”
“Enjoy your meal!” He took off back behind the counter.
Sungchan watched him for a moment before turning back to his food. “He was at the show.”
“Yeah, he was.”
“Your sturdy friend.”
“Yup.” You grabbed your first fry.
“The show, that reminds me—” Sungchan stopped in the middle of his sentence, sandwich halfway up to his mouth. “Uh, I think your friend just took a picture of us.”
Your phone buzzed then, and you checked the notification from your lockscreen, letting out a deep sigh. “He definitely did.”
[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️]
“Hold on, sorry,” you apologized as you unlocked your phone to properly open the message.
As soon as you started typing a scathing text about privacy, another text came through.
[jeno: FUCK WRONG GROUP CHAT]
[you: wtf do you assholes have a gc without me in it??]
You looked over at the register, shooting Jeno a glare as he was very obviously trying not to look at you. His entire face, ears, and neck were visibly pink from the other side of the restaurant.
[jeno: it was to plan your surprise party last year!]
[jaem: Y/N ON A DATE CONFIRMED???????]
[renjunnie: jeno you’re an idiot]
[hyuck: wait jeno take another picture of his face im trying to see smth]
A large group of teenagers entered then, and Jeno had to quickly put his phone away to take their orders.
Sungchan had been quietly eating his food the whole time, and raised an eyebrow as you put your phone down with a groan. “Everything alright?”
“Sorry about that…” You let out another sigh. “So what you were saying? The show?”
“Oh, I’m glad you liked the set.” He looked almost self-conscious as he spoke, a small smile on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “You hadn’t said anything about whether or not you actually liked the show, so I figured it might not have been your thing, you know? Or, you at least told Johnny you liked it…”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Didn’t want to seem like I was fishing for compliments.”
“I had fun,” you assured him, grabbing another fry. “I’m still surprised you could even see me. It was packed in there.”
“You were easy to spot,” he teased.
“You didn’t exactly give me a dress code.”
“If I did, would you have been able to dress for it?”
You pursed your lips as you thought for a moment, then relented, “…No.”
He shrugged off his jacket and offered you the garment. “Here, so you’ll blend in better next time.”
You accepted it, already giddy at the idea of a ‘next time.’ “Then how will you spot me?”
“I think I’ll manage.”
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[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: no need to see his face, hyuck. its definitely the drummer from the basement]
[hyuck: fuckin knew it]
[jaem: are we SURE those are the same tattoos?? maybe y/n knows another guy with sleeves???]
[renjunnie: still the same gc, dumbasses]
[you: jeno don’t be a weirdo challenge FAILED]
[jeno: definitely the same guy, jaemin]
[you: im gonna get you fired lee jeno]
[jeno: my rent :( ]
[hyuck: y/n out here trying to SILENCE independent investigative journalists and whistleblowers i see 🫵]
[you: OR i was trying to eat in peace and meanwhile you guys are having your weekly ‘being the most obnoxious guy ever’ competition and somehow jeno is winning this time]
[jeno: :(( ]
[jaem: you were on a DATE with drummer guy and didnt tell us???]
[you: omfg because it wasn’t a date? im allowed to hang out with people who aren’t you four]
[jaem: no youre not?]
[hyuck: since when?]
[renjunnie: and since when do you know people who aren’t us lmao]
[you: im gonna block all of you]
[jeno: :'( ]
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Thursday night and you were back in the basement. This time you didn’t bring any of your friends, not wanting to subject them to an experience that they clearly hadn’t enjoyed last time, and also to save yourself from having to explain why exactly you were back in the basement again and wearing Sungchan’s leather jacket. Due to the oppressive body heat around you, you just had it draped over your shoulders, but made sure to grab either side and hold it tight to not lose it as you maneuvered through the crowd. You unfortunately barely had time to run home and grab the jacket on your way here, as your boss kept your whole team late after hours today working on an urgent deadline. You were still wearing your work clothes; you didn’t trust yourself to change quickly without freaking out over what to wear and ending up missing Sungchan’s short set.
Just as you had wormed your way into a good enough spot towards the front and near the drumset, the band walked out from the adjoining room, waving to everyone. It was easy to spot Sungchan, not only because he was the tallest, but because he wasn’t even wearing a shirt this time, as opposed to the others, who were all wearing a tank top or t-shirt of some sort. His gaze was very clearly searching the crowd for something, and stopped as soon as it landed on you. You gave him a small wave, and he smiled back as he headed to his spot.
You weren’t sure if they had set up the speakers differently this time, if your ears were just used to the volume now, or if you were positioned better than before, but you could actually understand what the frontman was saying as he introduced the band.
“Hey! How is everyone?” His voice was cheerful, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the crowd cheered back. “First, uh, big thanks as always to our buddy Anton for having us. Second, if you don’t know us, that’s fine, nobody does.”
Everyone let out a unanimous round of chuckles, and the frontman was smiling too.
“Anyway, we are Roses for Eyes. I’m Shotaro, that’s Wonbin—” He pointed to the other guitarist, then the bassist, “—That’s Eunseok over there—” and finally Sungchan, “—And we’ve got Sungchan on the drums. And we’re supposed to be performing for you guys, not reading you our non-existent Wikipedia page. Here’s the first one, ‘Lonely as Mars,’ hope you all like it.”
From the first kick of the bass drum, you couldn’t take your eyes off Sungchan. The music reverberated through your chest, and this time you could hear their voices, and the words they were singing. They were good, you decided, and you liked it. But your focus never left the drummer. He had the same relaxed, easy-going smirk on his face as the last time he played, arms flexing with each hit of his sticks.
The set simultaneously felt like ten years and ten seconds. It was a blur, and before you knew it, Shotaro was once again speaking into the mic to give the crowd another thank you and goodnight. He, Eunseok, and Wonbin took their instruments with them. Sungchan tucked his drumsticks into the back pocket of his jeans as he stood up and followed his bandmates. With no friends urging you to leave, and what certainly seemed like an infinitely long list of reasons to stick around, you stayed put exactly where you were. Exactly where Sungchan knew you were.
The next band had just come out when you felt a hand grab your arm. Turning around, you knew who exactly that hand would belong to. Sungchan had found a shirt somewhere between performing and now, a tank top that didn’t cover much more than before. And despite him having just been performing a few moments ago, nobody in the crowd seemed to notice him, all their focus on the next act.
“You did good!” You had to shout over the music of the band currently performing.
He bent down to talk right into your ear. “It’s loud over here.”
You let him guide you to a corner further back from the crowd with an arm around your shoulders. There were a few other people back there, either smoking, making out, or both. You rested your back against the wall, looking up at Sungchan, who leaned over you with his hand on the wall next to your head. You opened your mouth, about to repeat what you had said out on the floor.
“Fuck, you look so hot in my jacket,” Sungchan groaned, sufficiently wiping all previous trains of thought from your brain. His fingers messed with the zipper teeth of one side, eyes scanning your whole frame.
“I feel a bit silly wearing it with the pantsuit, but I got hung up at work and didn’t want to be late…” You trailed off, noticing that his gaze was definitely now on your mouth. Tilting your head, you asked teasingly, “Sungchan, are you flirting with me?”
“Have been for like three weeks now, thanks for noticing.”
“Unfortunately, we can’t count this as my something new. I’ve been to one of your sets before, at this exact basement,” you sighed wistfully, latching onto his free arm and pulling him even closer to you.
“Mm, good point.” His hand grabbed your waist. “I think we can come up with something to do tonight that you haven’t done before.”
“I think I’ve got one.”
“Oh, here I thought I was the ideas guy?”
You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to yours. Sungchan let out another low sound against your lips, grip on your waist tightening as he pushed you back into the wall as hard as you were pulling him down with you. He dropped from leaning on his hand to his forearm, caging you in closer. Your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair was shamelessly feeling up the muscles of his arm and shoulder. When he softly sank his teeth into your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but dig your fingernails into his tricep in surprise, pushing your hips up against his insistently.
“Fuck, Sungchan,” you panted against his mouth when he pulled back for a brief moment of air, his thigh now wedged between yours.
“God, you’re so—” He pressed his lips to yours again, hand at the small of your back to pull you as close to him as possible. If you thought you were warm before packed in the crowd, you were in a stifling heat now, pinned between Sungchan’s body and the wall. He broke the kiss, asking between deep breaths, “Can—Can I take you home?”
“What about the other bands?” You giggled, lips ghosting over his as you spoke.
“Fuck the other bands,” he replied immediately. “As soon I saw you out in the crowd wearing my jacket, could barely focus on the set because you looked so good.”
“Yes, Sungchan.” You kissed him again. “You can take me home.”
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As soon as Sungchan’s front door was shut, he had you pressed up against it again. You pulled at his flimsy tank top as his tongue slipped past your lips. Finally, he gave in to your persistent hands and let you pull it off him.
“Honestly, don’t even know why you bother with shirts at this point,” you scoffed, throwing it off towards the side somewhere.
“With how much I’ve spent on tattoos? I agree,” he chuckled, cupping your cheek to pull your mouth to his again.
Still attached to each other, you’d only succeeded at getting Sungchan’s belt unbuckled by the time you made it to his bedroom. Before you could unbutton his pants, however, he stepped back from you, familiar teasing glint in his eyes.
“Well this isn’t very fair, don’t you think?” He gestured between his half-dressed state and your fully dressed self.
“I thought you liked me in your jacket?” You taunted, wrapping the garment tighter around yourself.
“Which is why you’ve got to let me take it off you.” He put his hands together in a pleading motion. “And the pantsuit…”
“Mm, alright.” You dropped your hands from the jacket.
He circled behind you, hovering close to remove his leather jacket from your shoulders, pressing kisses to your neck as he did so. With him no longer blocking the rest of his bedroom from your view, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the presence of one thing.
“You know, I was mentally prepared for you to not have a bedframe,” you commented as he took off your blazer next.
“You got mattress-on-the-ground vibes from me and still came home with me?” Sungchan asked incredulously, letting out a breathy laugh. His deft fingers started unbuttoning your blouse next. “I think I’m flattered? And you’ve got to raise your standards.”
You turned around to face him, feeling the smirk on your face as you replied, “Let’s see how high we can raise those standards, hm?”
“Is that a challenge or what?” Sungchan laughed again, wasting no time in attaching his lips and teeth to your neck, dropping your blouse off your shoulders and to the floor.
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When the garish blaring of your work alarm came, you reached over to the right to blindly grab your phone off your nightstand. Instead, your hand hit what felt like someone’s face, and you jolted up in bed as they did as well, already swearing.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Sungchan was holding his eye. “What the hell was that for? That’s not my alarm.”
Blinking a couple times to orient yourself first, you then jerked over to grab your phone off the floor on your left side. Sungchan may have had a bedframe, but he did only have one nightstand. You quickly turned off your alarm and fell back onto the mattress. You weren’t going to be able to go back to sleep, having been sufficiently scared awake, but you needed a second to catch your breath.
“Work alarm…” You explained belatedly, in case that wasn’t apparent.
Sungchan made a grunt of acknowledgement, dropping his hand from his face as he laid back down as well. He rolled over towards you, slinging an arm around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder. You stared up at his ceiling, feeling his warm breaths washing over the skin of your arm.
“Mars isn’t lonely,” you blurted out into his still-dark room.
“What?” He mumbled into your shoulder.
“It’s got two moons.”
Sungchan shifted around, propping his head up with his other hand to be able to talk. “Yes… Phobos and Deimos. Named for the Greek gods of fear and dread, respectively.”
“So to be lonely as Mars… with fear and dread as your only companions.”
“That was the idea, when we wrote it.” He brushed hair back from your face. “Don’t tell me the title of one of our songs kept you up all night.”
“No, was just kind of in the back of my mind.” You felt a sudden prickling along your skin as his hand fell to your arm, fingers playing with the sleeve hem of the t-shirt you were wearing—his. Sitting up out of his grasp, you pushed the covers off of you. “I have to get ready for work.”
Sungchan wordlessly watched you gather up your clothes from the floor and get dressed. When you went into the adjoining bathroom to check the tuck of your shirt into your pants and make other adjustments, he followed, leaning in the doorway with a troubled look on his face.
“Am I just something new, Y/N?” He asked bluntly, arms crossed over his chest.
“Am I just entertainment?” You immediately fired back, trying to smooth out a wrinkle that your blouse had acquired from sitting crumpled on the floor all night.
“What? Why would you think that?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“‘I don’t care. I just want to be along for the ride.’” You paraphrased what he said when he agreed to help you with your plan. “Am I just entertainment?”
His features softened. “No, you’re not entertainment.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, shoulders falling as they lost the tension they’d just held. “No, Sungchan, you’re not just something new.”
He walked over to you with a wide grin on his face, cupping your cheek and pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss too, giving him one more peck before turning back to fixing your attire in the mirror. There was nothing you could do right now about the wrinkles, but you could at least attempt something with your hair.
Sungchan stepped behind you, resting his hands on your hips and pulling you back into him. He placed a few lazy kisses along your neck, murmuring, “I think the pantsuit is growing on me, actually.”
“Then why are you trying to take it off me?” You questioned, grabbing his hand that had been reaching for your blouse buttons again.
“Because I like what’s under it better.”
“Nice try. I have work.” You spun out of his arms, heading for his bedroom door.
Two steps into the hall, you knew something was wrong. There were other voices in Sungchan’s apartment, which stopped when they saw you. As soon as your eyes registered the three men in the living room, you skittered backwards back into Sungchan’s room again.
Practically slamming his door closed behind you, you didn’t let him get whatever surprised statement he had out of his mouth, as you hissed, “Sungchan! Why is your whole fucking band out there?”
“Probably because your work alarm woke them up too,” he laughed, which turned into a yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. “They’re not really early birds…”
“Why are they here?”
“They live here?”
In your rush to get into Sungchan’s bedroom last night, you had somehow missed any signs of three other people living here. You didn’t even hear them come home last night, and you weren’t exactly… quiet yourself. Definitely not three roommates quiet.
“Oh my god…” You sunk down against the door, shaking your head. “I’m just going to stay in here and die, I think.”
“I thought you had work?” Sungchan pointed out smugly.
“Ugh…” You groaned, covering your face with your hands.
“Y/N, they’ve already seen you. Here, I’ll walk you out. Will that help?” He offered, pulling on a shirt and his leather jacket.
“Fine, I’m gonna be late if I stay any longer.”
He held a hand out to you, and you placed yours in it for him to pull you to your feet. “Let’s go.”
The chatter that had started up again in your absence died down as soon as the bedroom door opened. Sure enough, the other three members of Roses for Eyes were sprawled out across the living room exactly where you’d left them. Shotaro was sideways in an armchair, Switch in hand as his thumbs moved over the controls quickly. Eunseok was sleepily eating a bowl of cereal on the couch, while Wonbin didn’t actually look awake, slumped against Eunseok’s shoulder with his eyes closed.
“Morning, guys,” Sungchan nodded to them as you walked by, still ushering you to the door.
Eunseok wordlessly held his hand out palm-up towards the armchair, and you saw Shotaro smack a few bills down into it.
At the front door, you were just ready to leave. Patting Sungchan’s arm, you gave him a nod and hushed, “Bye.”
Turning to grab the door handle, you heard Sungchan’s voice, nowhere near the whisper yours was.
“Baby, you almost forgot—” Sungchan stopped you, grabbing your hand and spinning you back around.
The sudden pet name made your skin burn. “What is it, Sungchan? My phone?” You started patting your pockets.
He took off the leather jacket that he just put on, putting it squarely on your shoulders. “Oh, and—” He cradled your face with two hands, kissing you.
It was short, sweet, and made your knees feel like jelly. When he’d pulled away, still holding your face, you whispered in the small space between you, “I’m going to be late.”
“Have a good day at work.” He smiled, letting you go and opening the door for you.
With a sigh, Eunseok gave the money back to Shotaro.
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You weren’t late that morning, thankfully, but your mind was still in the stratosphere as you bustled around the breakroom making yourself coffee. You’d left Sungchan’s jacket hanging off the back of your chair; it wasn’t exactly in dress code for your office.
“Morning, Y/N,” Renjun said through a yawn, shuffling into the breakroom as well. He paused as he seemed to be taking in your clothes. “Am I crazy or did you wear that yesterday?”
“The only thing worse than an outfit repeater is an outfit remember-er,” you jested back.
“No, I mean like…” He got closer, rubbing his eyes as he peered at your blouse. “You didn’t wash them. They’re all wrinkled and—You got laid.”
“Or I need to do laundry.”
He pointed to your neck. “Hickey.”
“Damn, you caught me breaking my undying vow of chastity—oh wait,” you retorted sarcastically.
He held his hands up. “Hey, no slut-shaming here. Love that for you. One question?”
“What?”
“Was it drummer guy?”
You looked around the breakroom as you stirred sugar into your coffee. “…Yes.”
Renjun chuckled and grabbed a coffee mug. “Something new every day…”
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“Why can’t you just get the food delivered?” You complained, pulling Sungchan’s blankets tighter around you as the bed grew cold without him in there with you.
He hopped on one foot as he pulled a shoe on. “Because the delivery charge is as much as the food is, baby. And it’s just around the block.”
You huffed dramatically, watching him start searching the sheets for his phone. He secured it in his hand victoriously, tucking it in his back pocket.
“You could come with me, you know,” he pointed out, mischievous hands already reaching for the covers and pulling them down, revealing your bare legs to the cold air conditioning. “But you’d have to put pants on.”
You yanked the blankets back over you. “I’ll wait.”
He snickered, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Be back in a few.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed, kissing him again.
He dropped one more peck to your forehead before standing up straight and heading out, shutting his door behind him. You snuggled back under the covers, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders as you tried to enjoy the fleeting warmth left over as you scrolled on your phone. Sungchan had only been gone for a few minutes when you heard the front door open again. You perked up with interest. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be back soon. Then there were a couple light knocks on the bedroom door. Not Sungchan. One of his bandmates must have come home.
You scrambled to throw the sheets off you and grab a pair of your shorts from Sungchan’s floor, putting your legs through them as you stumbled towards the door. Opening it just enough to peer out, you saw Wonbin on the other side, a plastic grocery bag in his hand. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all.
“…Hi?” You greeted him hesitantly. You had been seeing Sungchan for a couple weeks now, and had caught glimpses of his roommates around his apartment, but had yet to say much more than the occasional ‘morning’ or ‘night’ or ‘hey’ in passing.
Wonbin held up the plastic bag. “Can you help me dye my hair?”
“Oh, uh, sure.” You looked down at what you were wearing, one of Sungchan’s black t-shirts. “What color? Should I change? Like, is it bleach?”
“Black. That’s fine.” He turned around, walking back down the hall.
You followed him as he opened another one of the doors, this one leading to a bathroom. As he prepped the dye, you read the pamphlet of instructions carefully.
“I’ll do the mixing,” he interrupted your deep focus. “I just can’t see the back of my head.”
“Oh. Okay.” You set the directions down on the counter next to the bottles. “I’ve never done this before… Don’t want to ruin your hair.”
He shrugged, handing you a pair of gloves. “If you miss a spot, we’ll just do it again.”
After Wonbin mixed up the dye, he sat on the edge of the tub for you to stand over him and start applying it to his hair. As you worked the dark dye into his blonde hair, you watched his soft waves straighten out.
“I liked the blonde curls,” you commented, moving onto the next section.
“Me too.” He flicked through his music library on his phone. “Time for something new, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that,” you smiled to yourself, adding more dye.
“What music do you like?”
“Oh, put on whatever you want. I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”
He wordlessly selected a song, a soft guitar melody coming through the speakers. It was so different from the music that you’d heard them perform, your hands slowed as you listened thoughtfully.
“Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?” Wonbin’s question caught you off-guard.
“What?” You parted his hair, double-checking that you had gotten every bit of blonde in that section.
“You’re broadening your horizons.” He picked at his nail polish that was already chipped. “Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?”
“Something like that.” Satisfied that you had fully saturated that area, you went to the next one. “I also just like him.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why? Because we’re so different?”
“No, because he’s lame.”
You laughed right as you had started squeezing more dye out, missing his head as the liquid dripped right down the back of his neck instead. Wonbin hissed in surprise, shoulders jumping.
“Oh! Sorry!” You were still laughing as you grabbed the end of the towel that was around his shoulders, wiping at the stray hair dye.
Shotaro came home soon after that, joining the two of you in the bathroom, hopping up on the bathroom counter to watch you apply the hair dye. He showed off his new nose ring that he just got, and tsked when he saw Wonbin’s chipped nail polish.
“We’re gonna have to redo that, Wonbin,” the frontman shook his head. “After Y/N’s done with your hair.”
“Once it’s applied, it’s got to sit for thirty minutes,” you recalled the instructions. “Will that be long enough?”
“Plenty.”
You were a little more than halfway done with Wonbin’s hair when Sungchan finally got back.
“Wonbin? Taro? You guys here?” He called out into the apartment. “Y/N’s here too by the—”
He’d poked his head into the bathroom then, brown paper bag of food in hand. You gave him a wave with your hair dye-covered, gloved hand.
“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled. “That was more than a few minutes.”
“Clearly,” he gestured to the scene in front of him. “I leave you for like twelve minutes and my bandmates adopt you.”
“We can eat once I finish applying Wonbin’s hair dye.”
“Sure.”
“What’d you get?” Shotaro leaned over towards the bag with interest.
“Only four extra crab rangoons. Fight over them however you want.” Sungchan pulled out a smaller bag from within the takeout bag.
Wonbin and Shotaro locked eyes.
“None for Eunseok?” Shotaro proposed.
Wonbin nodded minutely, as much as he could with some of his hair still in your hands. The front door slammed closed then, and they both groaned.
“I smell chemicals!” Eunseok yelled out. “What is it this time, Wonbin? Purple? Red? Both?”
The bassist appeared in the doorway behind Sungchan, peeking over his shoulder at everyone. “Oh hey, Y/N.”
“Hi, Eunseok.” You nodded to him, applying more dye.
“Shotaro, are those crab rangoons you’re hiding behind your back?”
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A random Sunday afternoon found you at Sungchan’s apartment, as you seemed to be most days now. If you weren’t at work, at one of his gigs, or with your own friends, it was a safe bet that you could be found there.
He opened the door for you, pecking your cheek in greeting, “Hi, baby.”
“I know what we’re doing today,” you blurted out, before you could lose your nerve. “My something new.”
He tilted his head curiously. “And? What is it?”
You took a deep breath. “I’m going to get my ears pierced. Second lobe piercings, I already have the first done. I’ve been wanting to do it for like forever, but I just… haven’t. It’s allowed at my work, I checked the employee handbook, and asked someone from HR on Friday to be extra sure.”
Sungchan beamed at you. “Hell yeah. We can use Shotaro’s piercer, unless you’ve already looked someone up?”
“Whoever Shotaro goes to will be fine.”
Wonbin was taking a nap on the couch in the afternoon sunlight, and you walked past him to get to the hall where Shotaro and Eunseok’s rooms were. Shotaro’s door was ajar already, and Sungchan pushed it open the rest of the way. The frontman was laid out on his bed upside down, his feet kicked up on the wall as he lazily plucked out a melody on an acoustic guitar. Eunseok was in there too, scrawling away at a notebook at the guitarist’s desk.
“Who do you go to for your piercings?” Sungchan didn’t give either of them so much as a hello.
Shotaro craned his neck to look over at the two of you. “Huh? Oh, uh, Sid, at Black Cat in downtown. Why? What are you getting?”
“Not for me,” Sungchan informed him happily, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
Eunseok’s head snapped up from where he had been focused on his notebook, and Shotaro set his instrument aside to roll over and fully face you.
“Y/N?!” Shotaro’s jaw dropped in delight. “What are you getting?”
“Ah, just my second lobes…” you muttered self-consciously, hands instinctively feeling at the jewelry that you already had in your existing piercings. You pushed further into Sungchan’s side to hide your face from them, especially when the bassist muttered a ‘woah’ at this revelation.
“Sid taking walk-ins today?” Sungchan asked.
“She should be. You know what? I’ll call her right now.” Shotaro eagerly brought out his phone.
After he confirmed that Sid was, in fact, taking walk-ins, Sungchan went to get changed as Eunseok and Shotaro put shoes on as well, ushering you towards the front door. All the commotion woke Wonbin up, as he sleepily lifted his head up and rubbed one of his eyes, watching the four of you.
“Where are you guys going?” Wonbin squinted against the sun.
“Y/N’s getting pierced!” Shotaro announced brightly.
“I’m coming.”
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At Black Cat, which you learned was a tattoo and piercing shop, you met with Sid, a young woman who was no older than you, and told her what you wanted. She nodded, looking at your ears for just a second.
“Easy. How old were you when you got the first ones done?” She asked, pulling out a tray of jewelry from under the counter she was standing behind.
“Thirteen maybe? I know it was done with one of those piercing guns…” You admitted sheepishly.
“We don’t use those here.” She shook her head. “Injures the tissue too much. I’ll be using a needle, should take like half a second on each side. I’ll explain everything back at the station where I can show you all the tools.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll give you a minute to pick your jewelry while I prep the station.” With that, she walked towards the back of the shop.
Everyone huddled around while you browsed through the options, seeming to have their own input. You finally settled on a pair of studs with small diamonds in them, not too outlandish; you’d be able to easily match them with the rest of your jewelry and any outfits you wore to work easily while the piercings healed.
“You nervous?” Sungchan murmured, rubbing your back as Shotaro and Wonbin wandered over towards the other end of the clear case of jewelry, looking at industrial piercings. Eunseok flipped through a book of flash tattoo options.
You shook your head. “No. Excited.”
“So you’re not gonna need to hold my hand?”
“I didn’t say that…”
As Sid walked back over, the others crowded around you excitedly again.
“Do you all really need to be here? It’s not that big of a deal…” You muttered, a bit embarrassed at how hyped they were over you just getting a couple ear piercings.
“I’m with Y/N on this one. Only you can come back.” She pointed at Sungchan. “The rest of you will have to wait up front.”
Sitting on the padded chair at Sid’s station, she walked you through each step and the tools she’d be using first, then marked where the piercings would go on your ears.
“Check the placement.” She handed you a handheld mirror.
You appraised them, then looked up at Sungchan. “What do you think? Even?”
“Sit up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, did you know you slouch?” He teased, grabbing your shoulders and straightening them out for you.
You glared up at him, but fixed your posture nevertheless.
“They look good, baby,” he approved, squeezing your arm.
Sungchan stood off to your side, holding your hand as Sid got ready on the on the first ear.
“Alright. One, two—” At the pinch, you squeezed Sungchan’s hand tighter, face screwing up in surprise.
She moved to the other side. “Next. One, two—” Pinch. “All done.”
“Wooh!” The other three cheered from up front, pumping their fists and jumping up and down.
“Fuck yeah, Y/N!” Eunseok yelled out.
“Baby’s first body mod!” Shotaro pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye. “They grow up so fast…”
“So pretty, baby,” Sungchan kissed your cheek, a wide grin on his face when he pulled back. He wiped at the single actual tear that had spilled over from your own eye. “So proud of you.”
Your face hurt from how much you were smiling, more than your ears did.
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“Y/N!” Jaemin stood up from the table as soon as he saw you, pulling you in for a hug. The two of you were meeting up on your respective lunch breaks at a café equidistant from your workplaces.
“Hi Jaem—Ow!” You hissed as his head bumped into your ear.
“What? What’s wrong?” He pulled back, clearly worried.
“It’s nothing, sorry.” You cradled the wounded ear, giving him a reassuring smile. “I finally got my second lobes done the other day and they’re still tender.”
“Let me see!”
You tucked your hair behind your ears to show off the small diamonds. “Just some studs…”
“Cool. They look good.” He was still smiling as the two of you sat down. “What made you want to do that?”
“I’ve been talking about it for a while.”
“Yeah, I know. What made you finally get them?”
“Something spontaneous or new every day, remember?”
“Well, I’m happy you finally did it. Seems your little quarter life crisis is actually working, huh?”
“Sungchan’s been helping me,” you acknowledged, watching his face carefully.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “The drummer guy?”
“Yeah, I’ve been seeing him...” You sat forward, lacing your hands together in front of you on the table. “Speaking of—Dinner tomorrow, I figured I could bring him? You guys could all meet?”
Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck, tone turning remorseful. “Damn, Y/N, I wish you’d told me sooner. I already made the reservation for five people.”
“You can’t call back and change it to six?”
“Limited space.”
“There’s not a lot of five-person tables. Wouldn’t they be putting us at one that seats six anyway?”
“If I change it, we’ll be bumped to the bottom of the list again.”
“Oh. That’s alright, another time,” you acquiesced as your waiter came over, handing you menus.
“Another time,” your friend agreed.
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You were in the ‘green room’ of Anton’s basement, which was actually the laundry alcove that had a few chairs set up for the acts to sit and wait before they went on. All of Roses for Eyes were back there, chatting as the time for their set to start got closer.
“You know what I’m craving?” Sungchan hummed in your ear.
“What is that?” You turned to look at him out of the corner of your vision from your current position on his lap.
“Fries from that place where your sturdy friend works.”
“He has a name,” you laughed, pinching his forearm. “Do you want to go get some after this? They’re open late.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“After the day I had at work, I’ve earned a milkshake,” you sighed, leaning back against him.
Sungchan wrapped his arms around your waist, and you could hear the frown in his voice as he asked, “What happened, baby?”
“You’re about to go on, I’ll tell you later,” you promised. “Just my boss—”
“Yo! Roses!” Anton poked his head into the room just then. “Two minutes! Let’s go!”
You got up from Sungchan’s lap as the others started grabbing their instruments. “I should go grab a spot.”
“Okay…” He cupped your cheek to bring your mouth to his. “See you in a minute, baby.”
“See you.”
You picked your way through the crowd until you found a group of familiar faces: Anton, and two more regulars and friends of Roses for Eyes, Sohee and Seunghan. When the band still hadn’t come out after a few minutes, you got on your tiptoes to look over the crowd towards the green room.
“Wonder what’s keeping them?” You mused, dropping back onto flat feet again.
“Oh, Jay and Hayoung popped in there right after you left,” Anton explained. “Said they wanted to talk to them.”
“I thought they already left,” Seunghan commented.
“No, their tour starts in a couple weeks, I think,” Sohee explained. “Or at least, the tickets I have aren’t until next month.”
“Is that for the Venue:Hell show?”
“Yeah, are you going?”
“Waiting to get paid then I’ll buy my ticket.”
“Anton and I have an extra,” Sohee offered. “He was going to bring that girl he was seeing, but we all know how that worked out.”
“No need to rub it in my face,” Anton grumbled as the other two simultaneously snickered and tried to comfort him. He then turned to you. “Where’d Sungchan find you, anyway?”
“Oh, uh, I got lost and asked him for directions at the bookstore he works at,” you answered, knowing that wasn’t going to help your friend very much.
“You’re useless to me.”
You laughed and patted his back. “I’m sorry, Anton. Maybe instead of trying to find someone the same way Sungchan and I met, you should just try meeting different people. Sungchan could tell that I wasn’t into this kind of stuff at all when we met, and still tried anyway.”
“Alright, got any pantsuit-wearing friends you can set me up with?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
It was then that Roses for Eyes finally started walking out, Sungchan at the front. They seemed to be even more energetic than usual during their set, and you could feel it radiate out through the whole room. You couldn’t stop jumping, dancing, and singing along to the songs that you had finally learned the lyrics to.
When they were done, Shotaro gave their usual thank-you and goodbye before leaving. By the time the next act was starting their first song, Roses for Eyes had joined the rest of you in the crowd.
“You guys did so good!” You praised them, squeezing Shotaro’s forearm as you wrapped your other arm around Sungchan’s waist. “Like, I think that was like the best set I’ve ever seen!”
“Thanks, baby,” Sungchan laughed breathlessly, kissing your temple and pulling you even closer with an arm around your shoulders. “You looked like you were having a good time.”
“She’s right, you guys had a lot of energy up there,” Seunghan complimented them as well.
“What did Hayoung and Jay want, by the way?” Anton asked. “They kept you guys for a while.”
The band exchanged uncertain looks, Eunseok, Wonbin, and Shotaro looking to Sungchan as if waiting for his cue.
He shrugged and squeezed your shoulder. “Just dropping by before they go on tour, you know?”
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The rest of Roses for Eyes declined accompanying you and Sungchan for your midnight snack, so it was just the two of you squished into the same side of a booth, Sungchan taking sips from your milkshake as you stole fries from his plate.
“Tell me about work,” he prompted you, nudging your leg with his.
“Oh, God, it was just… long,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Felt like it would never end. My boss put off starting his part of this project until literally the day before our deadline to send it to the VP, which meant I had to rush to finalize everything. Meanwhile, he was breathing down my neck the whole time about the deadline! Like! Dude, I fucking know! We wouldn’t be cutting it so close if he had done his part earlier!”
“That’s really inconsiderate.” Sungchan frowned, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, baby, that sounds really stressful.”
“But we got it submitted, so that’s all that matters, I guess,” you sighed. “You were right, Sungchan. I hate my job.”
His hand stilled on your back, just resting there as you sat in the wake of your admission.
“You remember my friends from the food truck?” He asked, abruptly changing topics.
“Yeah, Jay and Hayoung.”
“Well, we actually got an offer to open for their band on tour,” he told you, voice pitching up with excitement. That must’ve been what they were discussing before their set tonight. “It’ll be for a couple months.”
“Oh… congrats. I know this is big for you guys. Have fun.” You smiled, trying to hide the sudden emptiness inside you as you tried to imagine what your days would look like without Sungchan or the rest of his bandmates for two whole months. “When do you leave?”
“Next Saturday. Their original opener dropped out, it was last-minute.”
“Oh. I’ll see you when you get back, then.” You then paused, your mind suddenly changing directions and racing with other thoughts of why he might want to be telling you this. He was a drummer in a band going on their first tour, maybe he’d want the full rockstar experience. “Unless this was something else…”
His eyes widened as he shook his head fervently. “I’m not—I mean, I won’t ask you to wait for me if you want to get on with your life while I’m gone, but I would wait for you.”
“Why not?” You furrowed your brow thoughtfully.
“What?”
“Why wouldn’t you ask me to wait for you? You want me to ask you to wait, but you won’t ask me.”
“Because I’m about to ask you for something even bigger than to wait two months for me to come back.” He grabbed your hand, holding it tight.
“What…?”
“Come with me.”
“What?!” You blinked, for a moment unsure that you had even heard him right.
“On tour. Come with me,” he repeated, as sincere, eager, and genuine as he was in everything.
You immediately stammered out, “Sungchan, I’d have to quit my job—”
“And then when we get back, you can find one that you actually like.”
“If I can even get one.”
“This is exactly what you’ve been trying to do, Y/N. Something new every day.” He was sandwiching your hand between both of his now. “Please, just think about it?”
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“Alright, what are you moping about?” Renjun asked, pushing an already-opened beer into your hand as he walked by.
The five of you were over at Jeno and Jaemin’s place for a movie, pizza, and beer night, and the first movie hadn’t even been started yet. As usual, you were an open book to your friends.
“Sungchan’s band is going on tour. For two months,” you told them glumly before bringing the bottle to your lips. “They leave Saturday.”
“They have enough fans to do that?” Donghyuck snorted, picking up a slice of pizza.
“They’re opening for another band.”
“Aw, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Y/N,” Jaemin went to comfort you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
You tapped a fingernail against the glass bottle in your hands. “He asked me to go with him.”
“Does he think you can just quit your job for two months and come back and your boss will rehire you?” Renjun retorted. “This guy lives another world, sounds like you dodged a bullet.”
“You’re considering it.” Donghyuck pointed at you knowingly. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have brought up that he asked you until after he was long gone.”
You were quiet, looking down at your slice of pizza.
“Are you?” Jeno asked.
“I mean, I’ve been trying to do something different every day—”
“Woahwoahwoah! Seriously?!” Renjun cut you off, waving his hands wildly.
“I have enough in my savings to cover my rent and stuff while I’m gone, plus a few months after I get back while I look for a new job—”
“Holy shit you’re like, serious about this,” Jeno breathed out, blinking in surprise.
Jaemin took over, “When we joked about you having a quarter life crisis, we didn’t mean for you to actually do something like quit your job and go run off to join your punk boyfriend that you barely know on his dirtbag boyband’s tour for months.”
“We kind of figured you seeing this guy was already pushing your limits…” Renjun added.
“Gee, thanks.” You rolled your eyes. “You thought I was—What? Getting it out of my system? Then I’d settle down with a guy who’s as boring as I am?”
“When you phrase it like that—”
“You guys don’t even know Sungchan.” You cut Jaemin off, getting to your feet to face them all as your skin pricked with anger.
“Do you? You’ve been seeing him for like a month.” Jaemin gestured to you pointedly.
“Three. But thanks for proving my point so well,” you snapped. “You haven’t even tried to get to know him! You don’t like his music, fine, I wouldn’t expect you to go back to a show. But you haven’t invited him anywhere and you somehow always have an excuse when I invite you guys to something with him. None of you have even really met him. Not even Jeno from that one time, so don’t try to start that.”
They all seemed to be at a loss for words, looking at each other as if waiting for someone else to say the right thing.
“Y/N, come on…” Jaemin tried again, but trailed off at your furious glare.
“I’m going,” you declared, grabbing your phone from the coffee table. “Unless any of you plan on getting your heads out of your asses in the next five seconds.”
They were quiet again, and you took that as your answer, storming out of the apartment.
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“Oh hey.” Eunseok’s face held mild surprise when he opened the door for you. “Sungchan said you weren’t coming over today.”
“Is he here?” You were still agitated from what just happened with your friends.
“In his room.” The bassist stepped back to let you in.
You passed by Wonbin and Shotaro in the living room, a game paused on their TV. They gave you greetings as you walked by, and you tossed a hello back over your shoulder. Sungchan’s door opened before you even got to it, confusion on his features when he saw you there.
“Hey, I thought I heard your voice.” He watched you as you stomped past him into his room. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, baby, but I thought you were hanging out with your friends tonight. What are you doing here?”
“I’m pissed at them.”
“What happened?” He sat down on his bed as you paced angrily in front of him.
“I was trying to tell them about the tour.” You gestured between the two of you. “You know, bouncing ideas off them or whatever. My mind was pretty much made up, I just needed to talk it through. And they couldn’t even be happy for you, or actually listen to me! They just called you a dirtbag and patronized me like a dumb child. Apparently, they’ve just been waiting for me to dump you and settle down with some boring guy that’s better for someone boring like me! They’ve been refusing to meet you, I mean, I can’t believe they think they somehow know anything about if you’re good for me or not.”
Sungchan had been listening patiently while you ranted, and when it seemed like you had come to a stopping point, he asked, “They really said all that?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Pretty much?” He repeated knowingly.
You put your hands on your hips. “They called you guys a dirtbag boyband. And said I was ‘pushing my limits’ by seeing you.”
“‘Dirtbag boyband,’” Sungchan repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, I like that.”
“Of course you think it’s funny.”
“That part? Yeah, I do,” he snickered, holding a hand out towards you. When you had reluctantly put yours in it, he pulled you closer, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “The part where they’re being super judgmental and treating you like you can’t make your own decisions? No, I don’t think that’s funny.”
You took a deep breath, already beginning to calm down a little as he continued working soothing circles into your skin.
“You said your mind was made up? Mostly?” Sungchan asked tentatively, eyes focused on your intertwined hands.
“I want to go with you,” you said, watching his head snap up to look at you, his face hopeful. “On the tour. I fucking hate my job and I love you.”
Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at you. Then he was yanking you down into his arms, and you let out an embarrassing ‘eep!’ as you threw your arms around his shoulders, trying to find some stability in your sudden change in orientation. He held you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin.
“I love you too,” he murmured, pulling back to cup your cheek. He was grinning. “I love you.”
Your skin got warmer as you realized exactly what you’d said, but you couldn’t take it back now. You’d said it, you meant it, it was true, and you wanted to say it again.
“I love you.” You repeated, feeling a smile creep across your face.
Sungchan leaned up to kiss you, cradling the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pressed even closer to him.
Your phone started buzzing relentlessly in your back pocket then, and you let out an annoyed groan into Sungchan’s mouth. You broke apart just enough to pull out your phone and look at the screen, fully intending on declining the call. Then you saw the caller ID and paused.
“Who is it?” Sungchan asked, kissing along your jaw.
“Jeno.” You continued staring at the screen.
He drew back. “You should answer it.”
“Sungchan—”
“Just see what he wants. Might be important.”
You sighed, and hit the accept button. “What?”
“You picked up! Great!” Jeno sounded genuinely shocked. “Uhm, will you come back?”
“So you guys can continue belittling my life choices? Pass.”
“No, no, so we can all talk. Actually talk this time.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you sized up your options: staying here with Sungchan, or going back to that unpleasant atmosphere. Seemed like a pretty obvious choice to you.
“Jaemin will apologize,” Jeno added. “He wants to apologize, uh, to you.”
“Why didn’t he call me then?” You asked dryly.
“He didn’t think you’d pick up if he called.”
“I wasn’t going to pick up your call either,” you informed him. “Sungchan said I should hear you out.”
“Oh. You’re with him right now.”
“I’ll come back,” you stated. “But I’m bringing Sungchan.”
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You would be feeling awkward right now if you weren’t so pissed off. As soon as Jaemin had opened the door and you saw his face, you just got pissed off all over again. The only thing keeping you here and mostly civil was Sungchan.
“This is Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jaemin,” you blandly pointed out all your friends for Sungchan’s sake.
“Hi, Sungchan, dirtbag boyfriend,” Sungchan introduced himself with a broad smile, making the first move to shake all their hands.
Jaemin looked at you incredulously. “Y/N, you told him—”
“They’re your words, Jaemin. Now eat. them.” You said through gritted teeth, arms crossed over your chest firmly.
“I didn’t call you a dirtbag,” Jaemin tried to explain himself to Sungchan.
“Just his band,” Renjun pointed out helpfully.
“I thought it was funny,” Sungchan told him with a chuckle, stepping back to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, not so much.”
“Well, she has no sense of humor, as I’m sure you know,” Donghyuck teased.
You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t introduce you guys for you to all pick on me.”
“I think you’ve got a great sense of humor, baby,” your boyfriend reassured you, squeezing your arm.
“So do you have like, a tour bus or something?” Jaemin asked.
“We’ve got a van,” Sungchan told them proudly. “We won’t be sleeping in it or anything, we’ll get hotels.”
“How many tattoos do you have?” Donghyuck flopped back into his armchair.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jaemin rounded on him.
He shrugged. “Nothing. Just curious.”
“I’ve lost count,” Sungchan answered candidly.
“Cool.”
“Y/N mentioned you worked at a bookstore and a tea shop as well,” Jeno said. “Are they cool with you uh, going so suddenly?”
“I’m a part-timer. My bosses at both places knew what I actually wanted to do when I started,” he explained. “If they still have a spot for me when we get back, that’d be nice, but I don’t expect it.”
“So, are you going to be quitting tomorrow, Y/N?” Renjun’s voice held no judgment, just curiosity.
You nodded. “Yeah. I fucking hate that place.”
“Good. I could tell.”
“When do you guys leave? This week?” Jeno asked.
“Saturday,” Sungchan confirmed. “We’ll be popping back over here in a few weeks for a show at Venue:Hell, though.”
“Are there tickets… left?” Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck. “To the show in town?”
“You want to go?” You blurted out, a little dumbfounded.
“Totally, man.” Sungchan was absolutely beaming. “I’ll get you guys some.”
Donghyuck raised his beer to him before tipping it back. “Hell yeah.”
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Later that night, tucked under Sungchan’s covers and curled up in his arms, your fingertips traced the lines of his tattoos as you were slowly lulled closer and closer to sleep.
“Thank you, Sungchan,” you said aloud into the darkness.
“Mm? For what, baby?” He questioned sleepily, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.
“For not giving up on me. Even if you were just tagging along for the ride at the beginning, I would’ve just given up on my stupid little idea to cure my quarter life crisis if I didn’t have someone else doing it with me,” you admitted.
“Thank you for not telling me to fuck off when you had every right to,” he chuckled, tangling his legs with yours. “I love you, baby.”
You turned your head to kiss his hair. “I love you too, Sungchan.”
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⏯ sequel
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⤷ masterlist
455 notes · View notes
thewatcher727 · 2 months
Text
Writing Tip - Portraying Characters Out Of Character
More writing tips
One of the most common criticisms in writing is when an established character is portrayed in a way that seems inconsistent with their usual traits or undergoes a sudden change in personality. The question is, is it wrong to want to write an established character in a different way?
My answer is that it’s fine if there is a plausible reason for it. For example, if John, who was previously a badass military guy, suddenly becomes a soft, joking character in a sequel, it’s going to make people wonder why his personality did a 180. The key to making a different portrayal plausible is through story and context. To explain this, I will use the video game Batman: Arkham Origins as an example.
We were first introduced to Arkham Batman in Batman: Arkham Asylum, which takes place during Bruce Wayne’s 11th year as Batman. In that game, Batman is portrayed as an experienced, highly skilled vigilante who is in complete control of his emotions. He never acts out when a situation goes wrong; instead, he calculates and plans his next move. Even though we see a few instances where he still carries the trauma of his childhood, his willpower is shown to be incredible. There are even rare moments when he makes jokes with Oracle. All in all, you get the sense this is a guy who knows what he’s doing.
Now let’s cut to Batman: Arkham Origins. This game is a prequel that takes place during Bruce’s second year as Batman. In this game, his personality is quite different, out of character so to speak. He is younger, angrier, and inexperienced. The game does an excellent job portraying how flawed Batman is through the small details. His fighting style is more raw and less polished compared to his later years. His suit looks bulkier and more thrown together rather than a single, cohesive design. We see him make mistakes when dealing with criminals. For example, in one cutscene, Batman is interrogating a guy named Loose Lips. As he holds Loose Lips up by the throat with one hand, he adjusts his footing and then chokes Loose Lips too hard, knocking him out. Batman acknowledges this by muttering, “Damn.” He is also very arrogant, underestimating the assassins that are out to get him and frequently telling Alfred he doesn’t need allies, determined to be a one-man army.
So, why do I consider this different portrayal good? The reason is that it fits the story they are trying to tell. Given the significant time gap between Origins and Asylum, it stands to reason that Batman would undergo some personality changes. The game provides an opportunity to show how Batman evolved from a young, reckless individual to the seasoned warrior we know later.
One of the best scenes is when, after nearly losing Alfred to Bane, Batman begins to doubt himself and considers giving up. Alfred, who finally understands why Bruce does what he does as Batman, encourages him to continue and let allies help him. Near the end, we see him working with James Gordon, hinting at how their relationship began to improve by the time of Asylum. We also see Batman working with Barbara to destroy Penguin’s weapons. This not only adds depth to Batman’s character, showing his capacity for growth and change, but it also sets up his future collaborations with characters like Oracle, Robin, and Nightwing. This development makes his later, more balanced and cooperative approach in Asylum and subsequent games feel earned and believable.
All in all, portraying a character out of character can be compelling if it aligns with the story and provides a logical progression. Batman’s arc in Arkham Origins shows he was flawed and needed to accept that he was not alone in his mission. Proper context and development are crucial in making these changes believable.
So, if you’re considering writing someone in a different way, keep this in mind and you’ll be good to go!
420 notes · View notes
mrsshabana · 5 months
Note
LOVE your work! If you could do a sequel for Kinktober 20 - Voyeurism, that'd be great! And take however long you'd need, I will wait however long is necessary. But I had an idea, and if you want to do however you want instead, that's fine. But if the reader found the cameras, Gyutaro obviously has access to do this, and Reader decided to have a little fun, because she's into voyeurism, too... All hot and bothered from wondering how long he's been watching her, she hatches a plan. She disables all but one camera, and leaves it angled so Gyutaro can't see anything but a message, on a piece of paper: I know who you are. Come by my room this Friday at 8 PM, or I'll report you. Gyutaro gets there, reader is in lingerie and has her own camera pointed towards the bed! (I feel like I said a lot and not enough...)
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𝐕𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨
꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro is still obsessed with you and still watches you on the cameras regularly. He got lucky not getting caught for so long, but his luck has finally run out. You've found the cameras and he has no choice but to confront you. What he thinks will be the most embarrassing moment of his life will become a blessing in disguise. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, college au, voyeurism, Gyutaro is an incel and a pervert, vaginal sex, creampie ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.5k words. I have been so excited to write this, you have no idea. That kinktober entry was one of my favorites so I'm so happy you requested a sequel! ✧:・���→ Part one
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The semester is finally coming to a close. It's bittersweet because Gyutaro will be relieved when finals are finally over and he can have a break, but he won't be able to see you in class anymore once they've ended. The only thing keeping him going is the secret glimpses into your private life that he has access to. The cameras.
Of course he never got rid of them, why would he? They've been up all semester and he's gotten away with it. Watching you through the cameras has become the highlight of his day and he doesn't plan to stop anytime soon.
All week he's been studying hard for finals, so much so that he hasn't had the time to watch you lately. Usually, he doesn't care too much about grades but he's slacked off so much this year that he has no choice but to do well on his exams.
So, reluctantly, he's temporarily given up his favorite pastime.
Today has been particularly rough though. Having studied all damn day and night, Gyutaro is in dire need of some stress relief. And of course, the first thing that comes to mind is the cameras.
"I guess I could spare some time," he mumbles to himself as he shoves his books to the side and pulls his laptop onto his desk.
A devilish smirk across his face as he closes out his tabs and opens the live recording application. So excited that his fingers are shaking as he double-clicks the icon.
But what welcomes him isn't the sight of you studying at your desk like he had expected. It's something quite different that makes his stomach turn.
𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒. 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝐹𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓉 𝟪 𝒫𝑀 𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒.
"Fuck..." he curses under his breath, his heart beating wildly as he realizes the situation he got himself into.
Of course this happened, he was too careless. He should have known that he couldn't get away with spying on you for so long. But how did you find the cameras? And how did you figure out that he was the one who put them there?
"Goddammit, I'm screwed," he whimpers, eyes watering from a combination of guilt and frustration.
He knows he has no other choice but to confront you on Friday. Getting expelled or worse, possible criminal charges is not something that he is willing to risk.
The anxiety, stress, and guilt weigh down on him all night and he finds himself not able to fall asleep. It gets so bad that he even vomits a few times.
Tomorrow is Friday so he doesn't have to wait long to find out his fate. However, he's not sure if he should be happy to get it over with or dreading the fact that it's so soon. Either way, it will be unavoidable.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈•゚。
Gyutaro stands in front of your door, palms sweating as the sound of his heart pounds in his ears. Thankfully for him, his sister wasn't home so he just let himself in.
Taking a deep breath, preparing himself mentally, he hesitantly knocks on your bedroom door. It's funny how he suddenly respects your privacy yet he's been violating it for months.
"Come in," you shout from inside, far too casually for the situation. You do know it's him, don't you?
For a moment Gyutaro contemplates turning around and running out of there to avoid the inevitable embarrassment of facing you. The girl he's had a crush on for the past two years who must surely hate his guts by now. He can't live with himself knowing that you must hate him. But a small glimmer of hope and delusion within him causes his body to move on its own and open the door.
Sitting on the edge of your bed with one leg crossed over the other, you look up at him strangely with no trace of anger or hatred.
"You actually came," you say with a soft smile, standing up to face him properly.
His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps audibly, he already feels himself panicking. He knows he's the one in the wrong so he has no one to blame but himself. But seeing you in person, up close in the same room where he had watched you touch yourself numerous times, he feels overcome by emotion. All he wants is your forgiveness, and he becomes helpless before you.
You watch as this once intimidating man crumbles. The expression on his face reeks of guilt and remorse, "I-I'm so sorry Y/N..." he rasps, voice sounding more hoarse than usual. "I fucked up so bad... I kn-know there ain't nothin' I can say to fix it... but I just don't want you to hate me," he croaks, "please..."
The display can only be described as pathetic, and to say you're shocked by his actions would be an understatement. Gyutaro has always been the type of guy to do what he wants without much regard for others, especially when it came to their opinions. And to be completely honest, you half expected him to walk in here and give you a half-assed apology. But seeing him turn soft like this lights a fire within you.
Without a word, you step closer to him and begin unbuttoning your top — revealing lacy black lingerie underneath.
Gyutaro's eyes widen and he shakes his head as if trying to wake up from a dream. When that doesn't work, he squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them again to ensure he sees what he thinks he's seeing. Could this possibly be real life?
By now you've finished fully unbuttoning your top, revealing your breasts to his gaze. This is the first time he hasn't seen them through a computer screen.
"What... what're you doing?" He gasps, the sight quite literally taking his breath away.
"I'm not mad at you if that was what you were thinking," you whisper seductively, looking up at him through your lashes.
Face completely red, he struggles to keep eye contact with you as his gaze keeps drifting down towards your chest.
"B-but... why?" He pants.
"Because," you press your body against him, pushing him against the door, "maybe it turned me on." Moving your hand down his body until you reach the bulge straining the front of his jeans. Gyutaro gasps, his cock twitching in response to your touch.
He's far too flustered to speak so you continue, "At first I was mad, but then I thought about everything you must have watched me do without my knowledge. And everything you must have done too," you lean closer, softly kissing his neck, "You jerk off to me, don't you?"
Gyutaro hesitantly nods, so flustered by your bold actions that he can barely manage to speak, "A-All the time..."
Pleased by his answer, you smirk in satisfaction — slowly undoing his pants and pulling out his cock, "How naughty of you. I wonder why you'd do such a thing," you playfully tease him as you begin stroking his length.
He moans softly and bites his lip, the feeling of your warm, soft hands wrapped around him makes him feel like he's in heaven. "I a-always liked you," he pants, "Ngh- I love watching you undress... ah, a-and when you touch yourself," he admits shamefully.
"Would you like to do it yourself?"
"Wh-what...?"
You giggle and slip his phone out of his pocket, walking over to your desk as you continue, "Would you like to touch me? Don't be silly, I know you want to."
Panting heavily, Gyutaro follows you like a lost puppy. Sickeningly addicted to your affection. "I would... please."
He impatiently watches as you open his phone camera and set it up on your desk, pointing directly to your bed and hitting the record button.
"There we go, so you'll have something special to watch later," you giggle to yourself then turn around to face him again.
Gyutaro stands tall before you, looming above you and looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. This intimidating man seemingly helpless to you. His aching cock a clear indicator as it stands tall, leaking clear sticky liquid as it begs for your attention. He thinks this surely must be the hardest he's ever been in his entire life because only a few seconds without your touch has caused him physical pain.
Poor thing, you kind of feel bad for him honestly. It's obvious just how much he wants this, wants you. It'd be cruel to make him wait any longer so you push him onto your bed and hastily slip out of your pants and fully remove your top. He follows suit and removes the rest of his clothing. The shame and embarrassment of his unusual body suddenly washed away by lust.
Left in nothing but your lingerie, you climb on top of Gyutaro to sit on his lap. This is everything he's dreamed about, and you're offering it to him on a silver platter. And he can't help but take what he wants.
He forcefully grabs your hips and pulls you closer, eagerly crashing his lips against yours in the process. Your lips are pillowy soft against his and taste faintly like your fruit-flavored lip balm. The taste of your lips alone threatens to make him spill between your thighs.
Your entire body heats up as you feel him slide his tongue past your lips. Obviously kissing you blindly with no experience, but you don't care. The passion behind his actions is enough to make your slick soak through your lace panties.
Gyutaro's hands move down to your butt, gripping you tightly and pushing you down against his throbbing member. He can't help but buck his hips up into your heat, seeking the warmth and wetness between your legs.
"Please, Y/N," he pants as he breaks away from the kiss, "I want you so bad... I-I've wanted you for so long."
You whimper as he breaks the kiss, "Then you can have me..."
Positioning him at your entrance, you move your panties to the side and lower down onto him. Sliding his thick cock into your tight hole, an exasperated moan leaves his lips.
Squeezing your eyes tightly, you whimper as you try to adjust to his size. The pleasure quickly overcoming him, he claws red marks into your skin as he tries to stop himself from fucking you silly like he does to his fleshlight.
Leaning his head back, he groans, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to steady his breathing and calm down. He's just so damn excited, still unable to believe that this moment is actually real.
Once you feel more accustomed to his large size you begin slowly bouncing on top of him, leaning forward and placing your hands on his shoulders for support.
With each movement of your hips, his moans intensify and it's obvious how hard he's trying not to completely fall apart right now. He always imagined how pretty you'd look beneath him, but honestly the view of having you on top of him is better than anything he's ever imagined. Your gorgeous face contorting as you use his body to pleasure yourself, not so differently from how he watched you for his own pleasure. Your angelic breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips. And not to mention the view he gets when he looks down at where you two are connected — your perfect pussy taking his cock over and over again, your shared liquids sticking to your thighs and his scrawny hips.
"F-feels so good," he gasps between moans, "So tight, so warm..." This is infinitely better than his fleshlight, so much so that he doesn't think he'll ever be able to go back. Now that he's had a taste of you he's going to be craving this pussy for eternity.
"Ah, you like it?" you moan, "Could've had it sooner if you told me how much you liked me, you pervert."
You can feel his cock twitch inside of you as you call him a pervert. he bites his lip and whimpers, "I-I'm sorry..."
"Such a creep, Gyu," you lean forward, pressing your body against his and picking up the pace, "Hiding cameras in my room so you can watch me while you jerk off. Such a bad boy~" You smirk, narrowing your eyes at him, enjoying how flustered he becomes as you call him out. It's obvious that he enjoys it by the way his blush deepens and he throbs inside of you, so ready and eager to fill you up.
"I'll m-make it up to you," he groans, tightening his grasp on your hips and thrusting up into you fervently — shoving his cock as deep inside of you as humanly possible, "gonna make you cum."
His phone gets the perfect view of him plunging into you, the wet slapping of skin and your combined moans captured perfectly on audio.
"Fuck, Gyutaro," you hold onto him tightly as he fucks you senseless, ramming into that sensitive spot deep within you, the spot that you could never properly reach with your fingers.
And that all too familiar tightness forms in your stomach, your walls begin to clench around him, and tears spill from your eyes. "G-Gyutaro! I'm-I'm-!!" You gasp and howl at the top of your lungs, trying to speak but your orgasm cuts you off halfway through your sentence. Hitting you harder than it ever has before, your entire body is left shaking as your slick pools in the dips of his hips. Gummy walls spasming around him, begging him to spill inside of you.
He tries his best to control himself but at this point, it's beyond his control and your pussy milks him before he can do anything about it. And he's left spilling inside of you. Feeling each spurt of his hot seed splashing against your cervix, it only intensifies the tremors of your orgasm. Gyutaro's chest heaves and he quite literally wails as he fills you up, holding your hips down so tightly that surely you'll wake up with hand-shaped bruises in the morning.
Post-orgasmic bliss washes over the two of you simultaneously, rendering you unresponsive for a few minutes as you lay your head on his chest. Even the feeling of his semen seeping out of you, rolling down your thighs, and pooling on the bed sheets isn't enough to snap you out of it.
Gyutaro holds you close to him, panting as his sweat sticks his unruly hair to his forehead. But he doesn't care about the disheveled mess he's become; on cloud nine because he got to cum inside of his crush. Adrenaline still coursing through him, keeping him still erect inside of you.
After a few minutes, you open your eyes and begin to lazily trace your fingers along the edge of the birthmark on his bicep. "You'll send me that video, won't you?" You whisper.
"Y-yeah," he sighs in content, "sure thing." He gently slides out of you and moves you to the side, laying you down on the bed. You watch as he gets up to retrieve his phone. He stops the recording and immediately sends it over to you.
"Come here," you pat the spot beside you, "let's make another one from a different angle."
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ohcorny · 6 months
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so! it's been a year since i put never satisfied on hiatus, and 9 years since i started posting it, and rather than make you read everything if all you want to know is "when's it coming back?" the answer is still: don't know! but the answer has also shifted closer to "it isn't" the longer i've spent on break, and i think it's worth being up front about that.
i talked about it a little here a few weeks ago, but the long and short of it is that between taking on better paying work, writing better stories, and looking back at what i'd already done for never satisfied... i just don't think i want to continue it? the year off has been incredibly good for my mental health, and i can't see myself wanting to go back after the two-three years still ahead of me on my current project. that's not to say i never want to return to the characters or the concept, but if i did, i imagine it would be with something completely new, in a different form. after all, i started this comic when i was 21 years old, a lesbian, and a sophomore in college. i am now just shy of 30, a bi man, and overall a completely different person than i was, back when i was writing without a plan and putting all of my insecurities into the comic--insecurities i don't identify with anymore. lord i'm closer to rothart's age than i am to lucy's. hate that
anyway. you have all been extraordinarily kind for following never satisfied for as long as you have, for supporting it as much as you have, and being as patient as you have. whatever form never satisfied takes in the future (god willing, with a more cohesive story structure and A PLAN FOR THE ENDING, WHICH BY THE WAY I NEVER, EVER HAD) i hope to see you there!
in the meantime, as an update on where i'm at with the thing that made me stop working on NS: i finished it! all the pages for Hunger's Bite (if you remember it with a different title: no you don't) have been turned in and now it's just revisions and covers and then........ waiting a year until it can come out. because that's how it is in traditionally published graphic novels! nothing releases for a full year after you finished it! and you're even getting it earlier than was originally planned, because i'm a creature and finished it like three months ahead of schedule. i've also already started thumbnailing the sequel book which i can't talk about whatsoever and will now be working on that for the next two years and then HOPEFULLY the first book will have done well enough that i can sell a third! so you better buy it when it comes out next february!!!!!!
to ease you all into it, i wanted to do a little crossover to introduce the main characters. we have emery, whose design is fully and unintentionally just Seiji Again down to his color palette (but seiji would bully him if they met. like so hard. he's a wimp). then we have neeta, a girl who dreams of travel and cares deeply about worker's rights, and wick, a vampire agent investigating the mysterious and sinister new owner of the 1910s ocean liner emery and neeta call home. he's also gay. but sorry lucy, you aren't his type. you're not mean enough.
the best place to keep up with me these days is probably here, as this first book gets closer to release, i will probably be posting about it a lot. and i will certainly post about it here when there's an official release date and cover reveal! i hope you'll go read it. i really think if you liked never satisfied and its themes, you'll like hunger's bite!
thank you again for reading!!
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genshxn · 1 year
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dan heng being bad at feelings, the sequel.
started writing this pre-1.3, so i am once again emphasizing that i am making shit up. (well, 1.3 dropped while still working on this and the TB mission was rather lacklustre, so i'm gonna half ignore it).
sorry for any typos/mistakes/whatever, most of this was written at dubious hours of the night.
contains. mild-moderate canon divergence, dubious jing yuan shenanigans, dh being somewhat down bad. i dropped a bit too much spice in, so it is no longer “mild”. take that as you will.
7.5K words. THIS IS SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING.
here's the first part in case you haven't read it. you're still not the trailblazer.
tags: @akhiran @cypunk-0 @fiona782 @seelelovesbronya @bleakqblake @xiaos-poems
this place is not a place of honour. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here…nothing valued is here. Below 15, DNI. Go away.
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the next day, you awoke to a feeling of emptiness at your side. any part of the bed that your limbs weren’t splayed upon was long cold with dan heng’s absence. you were alone, still left in the nest of sheets and pillows he arranged himself. it couldn’t have all been some kind of fever-dream, could it? 
no, any such possibility was dashed when you looked at the messages on your phone. one unread, left two hours ago. 
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with the ellipsis and all. oh, the self-inflicted misery. (does he really consider every single person his enemy?) you sighed, swinging your feet off the side of the bed to get up. if you knew him well enough, then you already knew the next little while was going to be tricky, to say the least. it was obvious what his plan was from the beginning, with him abandoning your side at the sun’s first rays: avoidance. 
and avoid you, he did. in the denouement after phantylia’s attack, he still had to be around you, but the stiltedness he carried with him was palpable. he made a point to stand as socially acceptably far from you. it was almost like he was acting like a ghost solely to you. elusive, non-communicative, only seen out of the corner of your eye. perhaps leaving you with the lingering feeling of being watched, and ultimately gone before you could even call his name. in fact, he quite literally ghosted you. he wouldn’t even respond to your messages.
once the day after the final events rolled around, you thought that maybe he would have had enough time to finally be able to face you again, but no. apparently he elected to confine himself to the archives the moment he returned aboard the express. however, this didn’t deter you from going knocking on his door. 
"dan heng?" you tapped on the sealed door. your ear was right up against the frame, listening intently. 
whatever shuffling was coming from within fell still at your voice. 
"dan heng, i know you’re in there. i just heard you stop moving." 
there was more silence, then followed by a sigh. "did pom-pom not relay my one request?" 
"no, they did. told me that i’m not allowed near the archives."
"yet you’re still here…" his voice was strained, and distant from the door. he must have been sitting either at his desk or on his thin, messy futon. beyond that, it was hard to imagine what he was doing in there, or even what he looked like. it was surprising. you thought he struggled to control his form, but it seemed no problem when he wasn’t with you. so was he the regular old dan heng sitting in there? or the vidyadhara that laid next to you that night? 
"you really think i’m gonna listen? i never do." you squared yourself further towards the door. "now, c’mon. we’re already talking, so can’t you just—" 
"n-no, i can’t," he cut you off. "i… i’m sorry, but not here, and not like this." 
"can you at least tell me why you say you can’t be around m—?" almost as if on cue, in came an angry pom-pom inbound like a squishy freight train. 
"hey! what did pom-pom just say?!" they cried. "can’t you follow one simple rule for the time being?"
as pom-pom ushered you away from the archives with weak thumps to the back of your legs, you grunted to yourself. you were tempted to chuck them in the opposite direction, but alas, such a thing was not in the cards for you. after all, it would be wise to not tempt fate with the conductor. things seemed like they were going to be more difficult than you anticipated.
░░░░░░░
early the next morning, long before either march or stelle would rise, you shuffled your way into the parlor car in search of food. if it was going to be anything like yesterday, you were anticipating being the only one in the parlor car. however, to your surprise, there was another person present when you silently closed the door behind you—dan heng. he was in his regular appearance of shorter, fluffy hair and his regular attire. you sighed as quietly as you could, staring at the back of his head that leant on his wrist, propped up on the table. seeing him staring dejectedly at the food was a sorry sight.
the unspoken tradition you had with him was that when the whole express wasn’t eating together, it’d always be you two sharing your meals together. it began when you first joined the express—after dan heng himself, but before march. left adrift as a vagrant amidst the stars, you were all too familiar with the feeling of loneliness. it was always at its worst when you managed to gather together enough scraps to resemble the meals you used to eat in your old home. to you, when possible, meals were something that should be shared in the company of others. so when you first saw dan heng sat alone on your first proper morning aboard, you saw part of yourself in him. a part that you wanted gone, now that you had a new home. so you sat yourself down next to him, your own food in hand. you were met with some minor (albeit polite) resistance, but you being the stubborn ass you were, would not have it. you knew your persistence was risky, but it paid off. not long after that, he would wait until you were sitting with him. 
so to see that sight left you saddened, but also vehemently annoyed. normalcy was out the window thanks to this baffling, self-imposed restriction he had against you. as quietly as you could, you stalked up behind him. moving as lightly as possible felt like it was the only way possible to get closer to him. it wasn’t like he developed a sudden allergy to your presence or something, was it?
you were successful in thwarting his pre-occupied senses as you reached the velvet couch. but maybe you were too successful, because he almost leapt out of his skin when you planted yourself down next to him. you leaned against the table and spoke. "how about us talking if it’s over breakfast?"
he did manage to calm down, but not by a lot, and not enough to give you a reply. his expression was still frazzled as he struggled to keep himself in place. 
"can you please tell me if i’ve done something wrong? i don’t understand why we’re suddenly like strangers again," you said, reaching out to put your hand atop his one that was clenched at his side. but he snatched it away before you could feel the warmth of it.
"it’s my fault. you’ve done nothing," he said. "but please, i need some time before i can talk to you properly."
he turned to get up and leave, but you caught him by the sleeve. "w-wait, by why?" you trailed off, voiced far weaker than intended.
the look he gave you was weird. it was a jumble of confused emotions, but the most you could make out was nervousness. you had no idea what that light flush could have meant for you. his mouth parted to make some sort of reply, and you could have sworn you the glimpse of sharpened canines. "since when have you had fangs in this appearance?" you blurted out after doing a double take.
his eyes flared wide open and a hand flew over his mouth. "s-since never." with that, he slipped from your grasp. "please excuse me."
you watched incredulously as he walked out of the parlour car and back towards the archives as if he had wooden knees. you had no idea what just happened. rejection, you supposed. but considering how he was that night, it made no sense. nothing about this made any sense. 
whatever it was, it was slowly eroding your patience, leaving you biting the inside of your lips in irritation. it’s true you were doing some type of avoidance when his alternate form was finally revealed, but it was nothing of this calibre. it was almost impossible for it to be the case with dan heng, but if this really was some kind of petty revenge, he may as well have whipped out a steel chair after you knocked shoulders with him.
░░░░░░░
your shameful failure of an interaction left you in need of recuperation. you hadn’t felt that irked and downright baffled since one of herta’s curios fell on your head. so now, you were blathering a ranting tirade at stelle and march over some snacks, all in the parlour car. "i swear to whatever aeon’s listening, he’s turned emo or something." you folded your arms across your chest, sinking down in your plush chair. 
"like he wasn’t before?" stelle mumbled, not looking up from whatever gacha game she was playing on her phone. 
"eh, not really. he does have his moments, though." march shrugged, grabbing a single chip. "but yeah, i’ve never seen anything like this. it’s so weird, he almost never avoids you like this!"
"hence why i’m so confused."
"things seemed to get pretty tense between the two of you after he had his magical girl transformation," stelle added while shovelling a handful of chips into her mouth, still not looking up. "then maybe… the day after phantylia, he got even weirder."
"yeah, like, he won’t go near you for some reason, but he keeps staring at you so longingly and sighing like you’re the last cookie in the jar and he’s been told he can’t have any more!" march said with the melodramatic flourish of a swoon.
"that one sounds like it’s based on real experiences." stelle cast her a sideways glance, to which march let out a sniff and wiped away a dry tear.
"just how much has he been doing that?" you muttered, unable to comprehend. 
"a fair amount from what i’ve seen. he’s looked like a kicked puppy every single time," march said. "well, as much as dan heng can look like a kicked puppy." 
"not that he’s particularly talkative, but i’ve tried asking him about it. was only met with howling winds of jarilo-vi’s everwinter storm." stelle placed her phone down on the table and sat back with her arms crossed. "but now, he’s just being straight up weird. (y/n), what’d you do to him?"
"yeah, i mean, he won’t even eat in the mornings if you’re there!" march cried. 
your nails dug into your knees as you looked at your lap. you could feel a heat creeping onto your face as you recalled him so close to you. his words still rung in your head. if they were true, then what the fuck was he doing now? "i—i don’t really want to say, since it’s between him and i," you said. "but some pretty… significant things happened, i guess."
march suddenly drew in a comically loud gasp. "DID HE FINALLY CONFE—" she began, but you clapped your hand over her mouth before she could finish. 
"must’ve," stelle said, leaning forward with her hands on the table loosely clasped in front of her. 
"it wasn’t… exactly like that." your voice was low. your attempts to protect your dignity were feeble at best. it’s true, he never explicitly told you he has feelings for you in the classic format of ‘i like you’, but… who were kidding, it was a confession in all forms except literalness. you grabbed at your face, hiding the creeping heat behind your hands with a groan. 
"no, it was totally a love confession. he’s been head over heels for you for a while now! even when i first met you two, it was so obvious he had a big ol’ crush on you. how’d you not notice it?!" 
"cuz they’re denser than dan heng." stelle deadpanned, staring right at you.
"if you’re going to be making indirect insults about me, at least do it to my face," a familiar voice muttered from somewhere a distance behind you. in walked dan heng, eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose. he was once again in his normal appearance. stelle immediately squashed you down beneath the square table, leaving you only to look at everyone’s legs. 
"oh, so the elusive dan heng finally graces us with his presence, huh?" you couldn’t see march’s face, but you knew she was making a half-lidded, unimpressed frown at him—the certified march classic.
"i’ve had a lot of information to collate and put into the archives, so i’ve been busy—" his words stopped short. from around the bend of the chair’s edge, you could see him inch closer to the table. 
"been busy what? you just stopped talking." march sounded confused. 
"is that… (y/n)’s scent?" his tone was far sharper, but his wording sounded unsure. 
"are you calling them stinky? that’s kinda rude, isn’t it?" march frowned. 
"huh? no, of course not!" he sputtered. "it’s just v-vidyadhara senses. they’re quite acute." there was the shuffling of some fabric. he must have crossed his arms.
"well i say it’s cuz you’re going heehee-silly-delulu with your big fat crush on them." march chimed in. your eyes widened as you frowned. why were they both baiting the literal dragon?
the only sound that came out of dan heng was something like an indignant cry that was cut-off at its head. "i… i do not—"
"you don’t like them? alright, keep telling yourself that," stelle said. 
"…what hand does (y/n) have in this? they were just here, weren’t they?" he took a few steps towards the table. you imagined him with a strained look on his face, fighting to keep his composure like he yesterday. as he was stood right in front of you, you felt yourself shrinking back. it was maybe only seconds until ground zero—until everything hit the fan. "because that’s their scent nearby…" he changed his footing just a touch, and the second you saw the tips of his fluffy hair peak down past the table, you launched headlong into him. not by your own volition, but because a heeled boot slammed into your lower back, jetting you forward. your face collided with some part of his legs (of which was not very soft), sending you both in the same direction with simultaneous cries. there was a significant thud when dan heng hit the floor, and your head knocked into something bony.
your eyes cracked open, rubbing your forehead with a groan, but all sounds fell silent when you realized you were hovering between his knees. you stared up at him with wide eyes and a stifled breath, where he met your owlish gaze with his own. in other words, you were almost right between his legs. both of your faces lit like infernos, but neither of you moved. a grand total of two seconds passed before the vidyadhara features came out. it was quick—his horns rose from his head, and his hair spilt over his shoulders. his tail appeared behind him, laying still. even his clothes suddenly swapped out on him. his chest rose and fell as his breath seemed to quicken. 
"s-sorry," you swallowed thickly. in almost an instant, he dug one of his clawed hands into his arm. he clambered to his feet, unable to look you in the eye.
"wh-what the hell was that?" his voice cracked.
"fuck, that was my bad." stelle said from behind you. 
"ngh, you… please excuse me," he quickly turned and strode back towards the archives, still holding onto his arm. you hadn’t moved from the floor when you watched the passenger cabin’s door close behind him. 
"what the heck, stelle?!" march cried, startling you.
"holy fuck, i’m so sorry. i did not think it’d go like that," stelle said. when you looked back over, she was leaning back and had raked her bangs back, hand still on her forehead.
"how did you think it’d go?" you groaned, unsteadily raising to your feet once again.
"i dunno, but not like that."
"why’d he suddenly change like that, i wonder?" march tapped her finger to her chin, looking off to the side. 
"cuz he’s down bad." stelle looked very confident in her answer. 
you almost choked on your spit.
"he’s down bad, but then he keeps running off 'cuz refuses to let himself be so."
"what kind of a theory is that?!" march huffed.
"a simple observation. mr. yang says i’m perceptive, so i have final authority on all judgements ever made." stelle crossed her arms over her chest, face seldom making any expressions. "and i say exactly what i said."
you stood with your head hanging in your hands, burning with embarrassment. things couldn’t keep going on like this. if this was the new dynamic, then how were any of you supposed to function while you’re out trailblazing? how were any of you supposed to function even just normally? that was it. you raised your head until your eyes lifted from behind your hands, a new resolve filling your blood. maybe jing yuan might know something. 
░░░░░░░
managing to secure a time to speak to jing yuan was unbelievably easy. then again, you should gave guessed it’d be. over messages, he told you that since he’s been doing nothing but resting, he’s incredibly bored—someone to see or speak to is more than welcome. and so, it quickly was organized that you could stop by a planned location in aurum alley to see him.
the time soon rolled around, as long as it took. during the day, as expected, there was no sign of dan heng having any interest in interacting with you normally, much to your growing irritation and mild chagrin. even march and stelle were shaking their heads and clicking their tongues in disapproval. 
it didn’t take long for you to get there. you agreed to meet him in a small, secluded area, just out of the way of eyes that might seek to pry into the general’s private business. it was a bit into the early evening. it wasn’t too hard to find him sitting at his table since he wasn't exactly the most conspicuous person out there. the golden artificial sunlight poured in from an oblique angle overhead, coating the tucked-away courtyard in a honeyed light. once he saw you approaching, jing yuan cast you one of his usual sleepy, cattish smiles. 
"um, hello," you spoke, pulling out a seat next to him. 
"and to what do i owe the pleasure?" there was almost a purr in his voice. "tell me, what is it you wished to speak about?" he leaned forward, resting his head on his wrist propped up on the table. "or did you simply come here to chat with me because you felt like it?" he made a closed-eyed smile laced with mischief. 
"ah, i’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s because i’m having a bit of a dilemma." you scratched the back of your head with an awkward laugh. "please hear me out on this one, but it’s about dan heng." 
"oh, dan heng? what about him?" jing yuan tilted his head. "as it stands, i’m afraid you might know him better than i do, unfortunately. so i don’t know if i would be able to provide the best of help for you." there was a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips, making you bite your own. 
"it’s, ah, a little more about him as a vidyadhara, i suppose. i’m not sure if he has anything in common with his previous incarnation, but i thought there must be something there." 
"well, i can say his obstinance seems to have certainly survived reincarnation."
"it’s thriving," you huffed, at which jing yuan lightly laughed. 
"so is that the root of your problem? him being too stubborn on something?" 
"that’s about it, yeah." you pressed your lips into a line. "he’s been avoiding me for… reasons i won’t divulge… and i don’t what i can do to get him to talk to me again." 
"you don’t need to put it like that. i can tell he really likes you," he said, the trace of a smug grin on his face. after you coughed loudly, he continued. "he’s rather obvious if you know what you’re looking for. but anyway, what happened between you two? if i’m allowed to know, that is." 
you swallowed nervously. should you really be revealing everything like this? you did it anyway. "one night, we said a few things of… i guess questionably romantic nature to each other, and he reacted in a way that i think was influenced by some sort of… vidyadhara shenanigans."
jing yuan looked at you with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "go on." 
"he hauled me off to his bed and then got uncharacteristically affectionate. he had a back-and-forth with self-doubt once he realized i was really confused by it all, but i told him it’s fine. i mean, i even pet his horns out of my own volition and stuff." it was all coming out at this point. "then he eventually drifted off and then pretty much declared his feelings in his half-sleep. but even though i told him i’m fine with him doing whatever he was doing, he still decided to run off the next morning. i’ve tried to talk to him repeatedly, but he won’t reply to my messages and he almost freaks out every time i’m in his vicinity. i don’t get it!" 
"mm, that’s quite the situation on your hands there," jing yuan hummed. there was a mischievous spark in his eye, and you weren’t sure if you liked the look of it. "now, i couldn’t tell you the specifics, but if you say he got ’uncharacteristically affectionate’, then that’s definitely some old vidyadhara response. they can get very protective over the things they love." 
your gaze dropped somewhere in front of your as your face prickled with heat at his words. 
"but now, i’d wager he’s stuck in some sort of self-imposed battle of will against himself."
"and how would you suggest i get him out of it?" 
"i suppose there is technically the option of waiting this out," he glanced at your face. you looked embittered at such an inane suggestion, making him laugh. "or you could simply make him lose the battle, since it sounds like he’s set on taking it ad infinitum, if needed." 
"small issue… i’m now allowed near the archives," you sighed, leaning yourself back. "it’s hard to simply go there with both the conductor banning me as well as dan heng refusing to open his door." 
"hmm…" jing yuan shifted his hand beneath his chin. "might i do something a bit uncouth?" 
"uhh, okay." 
"come here for a moment." he slid himself next to you, turning to face you a little more. with a slight frown, you turned towards him as well. "now, i can’t guarantee his reaction to this, but—" he suddenly pulled you closer toward him and placed his head in the crook of your neck—the same side dan heng had his. one hand snuck its way around your neck and held the base of your neck ever so gently, while the other looped around your back. you had to fight a shudder when you could feel jing yuan’s lips ghost over your neck and shoulder. "if i do this, it may be enough to knock him from this cycle of his." 
"wh-what?" you strained out. 
"he’ll be able to tell i’ve been with you. and by the places i’ve been in contact with you…" he said, voice low. his faint breaths were cool on your shoulder. you couldn’t suppress a slight shiver. "…it should be enough to grant you access to… the archives, was it?" 
"y-yeah." you blinked a few times. your brain had been reduced to a single cell bouncing around inside your brain like a shitty maraca. 
jing yuan finally pulled back, assuming his original pose. "please forgive me for that… but you’ll likely see why i did it." he still couldn’t help but wear his usual small grin for the second part. "i’d now recommend that you find him again, and try to keep his attention long enough for him to notice you were with me. vidyadhara’s senses of smell are perceptive, so it shouldn’t be long. well now, you’d best get back then." his stupid grin was even wider and even smugger. his gaze wasn’t condescending, but read more as if he were thinking just wait and see.
"i… guess i’ll be going then. th-thank you, general." you made an awkward bow as you hustled back the way you came, hyperaware of the air brushing against your shoulder. it all felt incredibly foreboding… but that was to be expected when you were about to enter the dragon’s den. 
░░░░░░░
your plan was flawless:
1. jing yuan does his shit
2. go back to the express. 
3. bait with bubble tea to get the door open. 
4. "talk" to dan heng long enough until he notices jing yuan was up to something
5. ???
6. profit. 
just as detailed, to further your chances of getting that door cracked open, you decided to buy a bubble tea. a classic milk should have sufficed, since he tended to favour the more simple things. the chances of him actually opening the door to take it were already slim, but desperate times called for desperate measures. knowing him, he’d simply make you leave it at the door, which was a problem. so there you were, stuck on an express couch, plotting. (or, perhaps more aptly, chewing your nails in nerves). as you sat there, in waddled pom-pom, looking mighty chuffed for some unknown reason.
"hm-hm-hm! dinner of pom-pom’s own creation will be ready in just over 20 minutes!" they declared, puffing their stuffed chest. they waited for any reaction, but no one looked up at them, making them deflate with a scowl. "stelle, (y/n) you go tell everyone," they grumbled, shuffling back into the passenger cart and beyond. 
"wait, what?" you looked up—you hadn’t even noticed them. 
"we’re on messenger duty," stelle said from her seat. she was placed upside down on the couch, hair grazing the ground while she played her usual gacha games. 
"can i try and deal with dan heng?"
"i mean, sure." she looked over at you. "but what’re you plotting?"
"my entry into the archives. i come baring gifts." you motioned towards the untouched bubble tea sitting in front of you. 
"i’ll leave you to it. i’ll go tell march and the others then." she chucked her phone elsewhere on the couch and got up, wandering towards the passenger car. you followed shortly behind, offering in hand. 
it was a short walk. you knew you were being dramatic, but you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous the closer you drew to the archives. you had already weathered so many rejections, so it’s not like this was going to somehow have a worse result. perhaps it was because you put too much on this. you’ve gone to a rather large effort just to have a slim chance of getting him to open the door—speaking of, you were already there. 
you raised your hand to knock on it, but before you could even lay your hand on it, dan heng spoke from inside. "what is it, (y/n)?" he was once again somewhere further off in the room, speaking with undecipherable emotions. 
"um." your voice cracked, making you cringe. "pom-pom said dinner’s ready in 20." 
"ah. thank you," he said plainly. it still kinda stung, being back at what felt like the stage where you were only acquaintances. 
"i also got you something." you tried to cast another line. 
"you can leave it at the door." 
you flopped your head against the door. of course he said it. "i’d rather give it to you now. it’s some bubble tea. the ice is melting." there was no response. you couldn’t tell what he was doing. "c’mon, it’s not like you’re sick or something." 
"hah, more like lovesick," stelle called as she walked past behind you. 
"stelle!" dan heng cried indignantly. he sounded closer to the door. "i am not—"
"if you’re not, then open the door." she simply kept walking. 
you were stood with wide, unblinking eyes and an open mouth, watching her jacket pass through the cabin door until you were left alone in the hall. the door suddenly slid open a little. you jumped, turning to stare up at him. as usual, there was a strained look on his face that he was trying to suppress. "see, i’m not—" he looked out and around for stelle, but she was nowhere to be seen. instead, he simply sighed. 
you tried to swallow your heart beating in your throat, but it still hammered away. "hi." 
he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the inner door frame. "hello," his voice sounded tired. tired with himself. "please forgive me for how i’ve been acting. i know it’s not fair to you. it’s just…" 
"i know, you need more time. you like to say it," you muttered with a slight, strained grin. "by the way, here’s your tea. it’s just your usual order." you held it out it to him, and he looked down at it with softened eyes. as he went to grab it, his fingertips brushed over yours. he seemed more startled than you, but after a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand back over top of yours.
"i haven’t been completely honest with you," he said. (that was certainly one way of putting it).
you held your breath, as if making a single noise could suddenly startle him back into the archives. 
"i… since that night, i haven’t known what to do with mysel—" he suddenly paused, frowning the tiniest bit. he leaned forward, seeming to concentrate on something with closed eyes. once they opened again, his pupils had constricted into slits, and he was staring intently at you. uh oh. 
"wh-what is it?" 
"where were you before this?" he took the tea from you and placed it somewhere next to the door frame inside the archives. 
your stomach flipped. was this really going where you thought it was? "um. i was wandering around aurum alley." it wasn't a lie. "why?" 
"that’s not all. what else?" he took you by the arm and drew you into the archives. it was an uncharacteristic mess in there. low-lit, and with clothes, books and items were strewn all over the place, perhaps as a reflection of his state. you watched the door close behind you, and when you looked back, there stood dan heng with his full vidyadhara look on display, right in front of you. uh oh. 
he stepped closer to you until you could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him, then grabbing hold of your shoulders. it was a tight grip, but not enough to hurt yet. he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and drew in a long but quiet inhale. "what were you doing with jing yuan?" his voice was low, almost with a slight growl. as he spoke, his arms had wound around shoulders, so he was holding the back of your head, just like jing yuan was. only far harsher than the other’s ghost-like touch. 
yes, this was going the direction you thought it was. "we—we only met to talk about something," you sputtered out, your heart in your throat again.
"then why do i smell him on you, as if you were doing something more than just talking?" with a free hand, he took your jaw and turned your face towards him. he was only inches away from you, gazing at you with narrowed, dimly-glowing eyes. "why go to him when you have me?" 
you frowned, eyes wide. "huh? what do you mean i have you? you’ve refused to speak to me normally ever since the morning after you hauled me to your bed. besides, i-it’s not what you think." 
but your words were lost on him. "no, this won’t do." his voice was barely a murmur. he seemed to be living in his own version of the world. dragon-brain was back, evidently a fuller force than ever. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t him drawing you even closer, placing his head in the crook of your neck and nuzzling. your face lit like an inferno as some kind of noise escaped your lips. it was really back to the nuzzling. only with surprising fervour, this time. he nestled his face into your neck, exhaling small sighs against you. his nose and lips brushing against your skin was almost ticklish, but you weren’t laughing when his tail snaked itself around your hips, twining itself down one of your legs. 
"d-dan heng?!" you cried when he suddenly lifted you with his hands clasped beneath the backs of your thighs, assisted by the tail. he had his mouth placed right over top of your collar bone, watching where he was going from over your shoulder. "dan heng, put me down!" you had to hold onto his back and shoulders for stability. 
he gave you no reply, only taking you back to his mussed futon. similar to his bed at the inn, the blanket was strewn in a way akin to the base of a nest. stray pieces of clothing made up the rest of lack-lustre structure—you could have sworn one of your own old shirts you’d forgotten somewhere was poking out from beneath a different article. dan heng sat himself down in the centre of the futon and brought you into lap. your position was a bit awkward as you sat perpendicular across from him. both your legs went one direction while your torso was turned to face him. he sunk his head into the crook of your neck again, drawing in more, shorter inhales. 
"seriously, wh—what are you doing?" 
"he’s still on you." he said against your shoulder, warmth breath making you shiver. there was a slight growl in his throat again. 
"even after that?" as you spoke, he tilted your head away, exposing more of your neck. "hey, w-wai—ah!" you made a cry of pain when a pair of fangs suddenly bit down into your shoulder. it wasn’t hard enough to draw much blood, but more than enough to hurt. you shuddered with some ungodly, almost harrowed noise when his tongue glided over what would blossom into a bruise. his arms and tail wound tighter around you, as if you might slip away at any second. he moved on, this time toward your jaw, peppering it with desperate kisses. you tried to say his name as he trailed down in between his own rapid-growing breaths. he was panting once he reached your shoulder, his kisses sloppy. in some work of miraculous dexterity, he had readjusted your seat on him until his waist was slotted between your legs. all the while, one hand was in your hair angling your head for his best reach, the other around your back. you had to hide your face in his hair when he had began making small vocalizations, something like tiny whines. 
you said his name again, this time louder when he trailed his fangs back up your shoulder. right after he left a hot kiss on your shoulder, he bit down again. you seethed in pain, trying to push his head off, but you were only met with purrs. even though he didn’t seem fully aware of what was going on, those purrs had to be weaponized against you. he shifted to another part of your shoulder, mouthing another kiss on it, but before he could bite, you grabbed his horn.
"dan heng!" you yanked his head back, surprising him. but instead of some sort of pained cry, he let out a heady moan. to your surprise, that noise slipping from his mouth seemed to restore his lucidity in an instant. his dilated eyes shot wide open and his hands flew to cover his mouth, almost sending himself backwards in the process. his face burned with embarrassment, colouring his cheeks and pointed ears in a bright crimson. you huffed, but didn’t remove yourself from your position. in fact, you anchored yourself down by locking your ankles behind his back if he were to try and push you off.
"(y/n) to dan heng, can you hear me?" you said, almost tempted to knock on his forehead. 
"i-it happened again," his voice was quiet in horror. 
"hey, i need you to listen to me before you clam up on me again." you brought one hand to the side of his face, gently making him look up at you. he jumped at the contact, sending his hands further up his face until they were covering his eyes. 
"please forgive me," he rushed out.
"look at me," you said softly, placing one hand on top of his to move it to the side—one of his faintly glowing eyes glanced at you. "i’m more happy to make out with you, but we need to talk first."
he made a strangled groan of embarrassment in answer, moving his hand back in place again. 
"are you listening?" 
he nodded.
"alright, the whole thing with jing yuan was me asking about you," you said. "i thought he might know a bit about you as a vidyadhara and your behaviour, so i went to ask what i could do to get you to let me into the archives. his idea was a less than tactful, but i guess it worked. that’s why ‘his scent was on me’, as you say. he only stuck his head on my shoulder for a bit because you’d be able to tell and then demand an explanation or something." 
his fingers had parted to show his eyes again, and they were staring in bewilderment. 
"so, i’m sorry for doing all that to you." your voice was soft. "i just wanted to see you."
"no, i should be apologizing. i have no control of myself and i haven’t been fair to you." he lowered his hands to hovering somewhere over his chest. "i was saying before… since that night, i have been an embarrassment. all i’ve wanted to do is steal you away and… smother you in affection until you returned it. the feeling was so intense that i didn’t trust myself around you, so i hid. i thought if i waited, it’d calm down, but it really only made it worse."
your heart swooned then and there, lighting a fire in your cheeks. "o-oh… so if i did return it, then you wouldn’t act like a lovesick ghost anymore?" 
"hey." he frowned, but his face soon fell back into the same flustered expression from before. "but to answer you, maybe after a while. i could also just get worse… but i really don’t want to subject you anything you don’t want." while he couldn’t meet your gaze, he still leaned his head into the palm of your hand. with a sigh, you held his jaw and angled his face to look at you again. 
"how many times do i have to say i don’t mind? you can’t seem to fit that one through that thick vidyadhara skull of yours." you did actually knock on his head this time, making him wince.
"i—i don’t know, i just get embarrassed." he hid face his face against your chest, face a shade redder and his ears drooping. "you also always look so shocked. i don’t want to do that to you." 
"that’s only because you tend to forget any kind of warning," you said with a light laugh. "truly, i like it—when you give me warning, that is—because i really like you too, stupid." 
his breath audibly hitched, and he raised his head back up. "t-too? but i’ve never said—" 
"are you kidding? you don’t need to say it when the aeons and their grandmas know. even march says it’s obvious. you’re seriously worried about that after you’ve made out with my shoulder sloppy style? by the way, what was with the bites?"
"ngh, don’t word it like that." his tail that was still tangled around you thumped against your back indignantly. "…and the bites are a weird territorial thing. i’m sorry if they hurt." he leaned his head against you, running his thumb over one of the marks.
"dragons…" you sighed with a smile. "you’re lucky you’re so cute." you pet his hair, and he leaned into your touch.
he moved his chin so it was on your collarbone, looking up at you with softened eyes. there were almost stars of reverence in them when he gazed at you. "i love you."
"wait, wha—" you began, but he swallowed the rest of your words when his lips were upon yours. he pressed himself up against you, his hands gently holding the sides of your face. as he kissed you, there was a faint rumbling and vibration coming from his chest—he was purring.  
he pulled back again, leaving you a little short of breath and a lot dazed. you’d always thought it’d be you that had to kiss him first, not the other way around. he began to leave another trail of kisses starting from your lips to your jaw, this time leading toward the other side he had already been. your hands fell from their place on him and inched onto his back while his lips were on your neck. one hand slipped into his back window, and he suddenly gasped. his back arched into you, almost knocking you over. he panicked, and his tail constricted behind you like another set of arms to catch you. 
"what was that?" you laughed, trying to re-steady yourself. 
"your hand was cold. i don’t know, i guess i have a sensitive back," he huffed. his ears were angled down and a flush was heavy on his face. you couldn’t really articulate what it was about him, but you were suddenly overcome with cuteness aggression. you leaned your weight onto him, sending him backwards onto the futon and—perhaps somewhat out of revenge—hovered yourself over top of his hips. he stared up at you with widened eyes and a held breath, frozen and waiting for your next move. 
"you said i need to return your affection, didn’t you?" 
he swallowed and nodded the tiniest bit. 
"so let me have some fun too, my beloved." you placed a hand on his cheek.
"wait, you heard—i actually said that?" it almost looked like steam would start rising from the top of his head at any point. 
"heard it loud and clear." you smiled to yourself, leaning down and managing to get your fingertips into his chest window—only for the door to slam wide open. 
"hey, it’s dinner! what’re you two even doi—!" march called, leaning her hand on the doorway. you and dan heng leapt off each other, landing on the opposite sides of his futon. march stared in silence for a long while before lolling her head back. "jeez, finally! anyway, can you two wait until after dinner? pom-pom’s ‘bouta blow a gasket waiting for you two."
"w-we’ll be there in a minute," you said, trying to readjust your collar to try and hide dan heng’s bite marks. 
"don’t be long!" march said as she strode back off down the hallway. a couple beats passed and you looked over at dan heng. by some miracle, he’d managed to swap himself back to his human look, but he still looked disheveled as he went to stand back up. 
he held a hand out to you and pulled you up, pausing for a moment. he glanced at the bite marks on your shoulder that still peaked out, made some sort of strained sound and then removed his coat. "they don’t need to see that," he said as he strung it around your shoulders, fixing the collar so it hid the marks from sight.
"i’m wearing your coat. march saw us before. if she learns something, it’s guaranteed to be said," you deadpanned. "they’ll know."
instead of giving you a direct response, he took your hand in his and lead you out of the archives, looking at you with what was probably meant to be a neutral expression. his light flush and knitted eyebrows betrayed him though. "can we at least pretend we have dignity?"
"i mean, sure, but it’s not gonna do anything, looking the way we do. now c’mon, don’t wanna keep the conductor waiting." you walked off with him in tow. 
he only made a small groan in response again. 
1K notes · View notes
xxwritemeastoryxx · 1 year
Text
Intertwined
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Author: xxwritemeastoryxx
Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader - Soulmate Au!
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: Angst, arguments, Elijah being overly protective but denying himself happiness as always, canon typical violence, a bit of fluff at the end.
Author’s Note: Because I'm apparently on a sequel kick, here's another. I promise I'm getting to the requests that I have and all the things I still need to work on from last year. I'm going where the muse takes me in my writing flow. So there's that. Also please note that you need to read Hidden Marks before reading this one.
I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥
Hidden Marks || TVDU Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist
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It had been months since Elijah had seen the three intertwined circles on the middle of Y/N’s back that made up her soul mark. The first and only time he'd seen it, he'd been pulling a wooden bullet out from her back when she asked for his help. From the moment Elijah helped to remove the bullet, the mark haunted him. 
Seeing her mark should have been a great thing. It should have brought him some peace and happiness to see her mark. That her mark matched the very one he had just below his left clavicle. A perfect pair that made sense for how close they had become as friends over the century. If anything, since seeing her mark he's been conflicted on his feelings. 
Part of him wants and tries to be protective of her. His soulmate that had come into his life when he least expected it. The woman that had become his best friend over the century had been the one thing he never actively searched for. He now knew why she stepped into his life and never left. But it was the other part of him that caused him to fight daily with his feelings. 
Y/N would be in danger because of him. She would soon become a target if even the slightest word had slipped about who his soulmate was. An endless cycle he'd force her into if an enemy ever came knocking. Threats and being captured for the sole purpose of being leveraged against him. 
Not to mention if his brother had ever lost his temper with him. Klaus wasn't one to spare the women in Elijah's life before. What difference would it make this time? All it would take was one action that made Klaus feel the slightest ounce of betrayal and he'd take it out on her. 
Elijah was willing to take on the devil himself if Y/N was in danger. He was reminded of it any time she recklessly put herself in harm's way. An argument he had with her plenty of times during their friendship, but held a deeper meaning as of recently. 
He was also reminded daily how easily she could bend him to her will with a simple smile as she walked into the room. Or the occasional knowing look she'd give him when he or his siblings said something she didn't agree with that would almost instantly change his mind about the situation. Especially if she added in her details that would make it reckless on her part. 
But no matter how many times that feeling of comfort and love started to grow for the woman he believed he could only care for platonically, he could never voice it. He could never bring himself to mention the details that he knew. And because he chose to keep it to himself, it began the yoyo effect of wanting to keep her at a distance and keep her close for his own sanity. 
It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Y/N either. From the moment she offered him a night out to deal with the humans who had put the bullets into her back, she noticed something different. She noticed the way his demeanor changed around her. He grew worrisome over the smallest of things he never had before. And even fought with her longer over details of plans to help take down the threat the Mikaelsons had been faced with. 
She found herself frustrated on the days that he brushed her off and all but ignored her. He had never once been cold to her in the time that she had known him. They had pushed each other’s buttons on occasion, but Elijah had never once pushed her away like he had been doing now. Every time he did, it hurt more than Y/N had ever expected it to. 
They were close friends, she knew that. She knew there would always be moments that Elijah would pick his family over her. That there would be moments where he would keep his family safe and do anything he could to also keep her safe. She knew she was not the highest priority. But why did it feel like someone had staked her when he walked away from her when she felt she really needed him for a few moments?
That's when the thoughts of doubt had been planted in her head. Doubts that were formed and fueled to drive her insane for most of the night that made it almost impossible to sleep. What had she done to earn such coldness from someone that she was close with? Had she crossed a boundary that she had suddenly been unaware of? 
The final straw that broke her had been moments ago when she offered to go with him to deal with the beginning of a threat. It was always something they had done together. A way to have Elijah’s calm and calculated approach and her glimmer of chaos that would always work out in their favor. But when he told her to stay behind, she could no longer keep anything at bay anymore. 
The moment Elijah had told her to stay behind, her face fell at his words. And as he walked past her to leave his expression hadn’t changed. And as she turned to face him, she let it all out. 
“What have I done?” She asked, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Have I wronged you in some way that makes you no longer want to be around me?”
Elijah heard the way her voice cracked towards the end. He had hoped that his actions wouldn’t hurt her. But here she was asking what she had done to him when in reality it had been him to do it. He turned to face her and shook his head slightly. 
“No.” His voice was composed in comparison to hers. “You have done nothing at all.”
She shook her head as she crossed her arms. “I’ve known you for over a century, Elijah. I know well enough to know you are lying to me. If I’ve done nothing wrong there wouldn’t be this shift between us where it feels like you suddenly want nothing to do with me.”
“I assure you that if I had wanted nothing to do with you, you would not still be standing here.” It was as close to the truth he could go to without coming out right with it. “We are facing a potential threat that I feel as though I need to do this with my siblings. We have no idea what they are fully capable of and the last time I checked, you are not as indestructible as you believe.”
Elijah had no idea how this threat would continue to play in their lives. He had no idea what knowledge they planned to use against them in an attempt to try and take him and his family out. That was why Elijah wanted to do this without her. He wanted to make sure that she would remain safe. 
He didn’t want to take Y/N with him with the possibility of allowing them to get an inkling that Y/N had now meant more to him than he let on. He didn’t want her in danger from something he didn’t fully understand. This was the part of him that was willing to do anything to protect her. He just had to slightly push her away in order to do so. 
“That never stopped you before.” She noted as she took a step towards him. “I may not be an original, but I am still a whole lot older than a majority of the threats that walk into the city. I have proven myself over and over that I can handle my own. I’m even better by your side. But ever since you’ve seen my mark, it’s like you don’t want to be near me. All I want is the truth from you. Did I do something or did my mark tell you something that you haven’t told me?”
Elijah looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up to her. He could see the hurt in her eyes as she expressed everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her even though every part of him wanted to. To bring some peace to her mind on his reasoning instead of making her feel as though she wasn’t wanted. 
“I’m going to try to make this as clear as I can." His voice was still even, almost void of any emotion. "This threat is not to be taken lightly. While we do not have the full specifics on who they are or why they are here, I do know they have come close to harming the people I care about." His eyes met hers. "While our normal plan pairs perfectly with the riff raff we deal with, at this moment it does not. So no, you will not accompany me tonight. I need you here." 
After taking in his words, all she could manage was a nod before he was gone from her sight. He didn’t even give her a chance to respond or fight him on what he was telling her. And it left Y/N feeling defeated. 
Her mind still tried to make sense of the changes that had come over the last few months. Every push and pull that happened between the two being analyzed as if it had been some rather important document or experiment being worked on. She was trying to find something, anything, to show what caused Elijah’s sudden change. No matter how many ways she thought about it, it only came back to one starting point: the night Elijah saw her mark. 
Had seeing it really thrown him off to not want to be near her like he had used to? Not showing them their marks had been a preference they decided on early in their friendships. If there was ever a day they felt comfortable in showing what it was, they would have. And that night, with a bullet in her back, it hadn’t mattered if Elijah had seen it or not. 
She ran a hand along her face, trying to shake off the thoughts that had kept her pacing her room for hours after he had left. She no longer cared about the mark or who she may have possibly shared it with. Why did that change now that Elijah had seen it?
It made her wonder if he had seen the mark on someone else. If there was a possibility that he felt guilty in some way after seeing it. There had been plenty of enemies in his existence. At some point he could have easily come across it and not realized it until he saw it on her back.
Did it belong to someone who had betrayed him? Had he seen it on someone that he had taken their life out of necessity? Or had this person been a victim of the many spells he had endured? 
Deep down she knew it was the fear of losing Elijah. Something she had thought about over the century and a half she had known him. Friendships can only last so long before one reason or another comes along. She knew plenty of people who had left her on the back burner after finding their soulmate, even during her human years. 
She had grown used to having Elijah in her life. It would take her longer to find a memory that didn’t involve Elijah versus the ones with. Over the years she had become dependent on the fact that Elijah had always been there for her just as she was for him. He was a constant and part of her hated the thought of her ever losing that. 
At the thought, Y/N had felt her heart sink. A simple thought putting everything into perspective to her. The idea may have been formed from past experiences, but it all made sense. Elijah must have found his soulmate. And if that was the case, she was sure this was the beginning of being put further back on the burner.  
“Y/N?!” Rebekah’s panicked voice had broken her from her thoughts, causing her to move quickly to find Rebekah. 
Upon reaching the courtyard, a gasp left her lips as she found Rebekah dragging a half standing Elijah towards the couch. The majority of his clothing had been covered in blood. Parts of the fabric had been torn in several places. It was as if Elijah had picked a battle he couldn’t win. 
“What the hell happened?” Y/N asked as she moved to help get Elijah settled on the couch. Her eyes had still been taking him in, accessing his injuries. 
“Witches.” Elijah breathed out as he tried to get a hold of reality. He had lost enough blood and his mind had been a distorted mess from the magic he had been subjected to. 
“Everything had been going according to plan but whatever spell they used on him, it threw him off course.” Rebekah took the moment to leave the room to get items they needed to help Elijah for the time being until Freya could get back there. The moment she was back she continued. “The others are still there dealing with them.” 
Seeing the items Rebekah had brought, Y/N reached for the towel that had been sitting in a bowl of water and began cleaning off the blood from Elijah’s face and neck. “I can understand the disorientation, but what the hell ripped into him?” 
There was panic rising within Y/N. She hated that he had made her stay behind. She could have been there to help him in some way. Been there to help prevent him from being hurt as he was now. 
"Between the spell and some of the wolves within the vicinity, he couldn't watch his back." Rebekah said as she picked up another towel and folded it before placing it on Elijah's forehead. Afterwards she began picking up little containers of what Y/N could only assume were herbs and salves that Freya had instructed her to use for the time being. 
As Y/N ran the towel over his neck, Elijah lifted his hand to her hand, stilling her movements. It caused her to look up at him. His eyes had been looking over her face, before they settled on her eyes.
"You're safe." His voice was barely above a whisper. 
She nodded her head. "I am safe. You made sure I was." She wasn't sure if that was what he needed to relax more as she attempted to help clean him. "Freya will be here soon." 
With that, Elijah seemed to relax his hold and it allowed for her to continue wiping up the blood. So far it looked as though any of the injuries he sustained were healing. It may have been at a whole lot of a slower pace, but his wounds were healing. But the moment her hand moved to remove the shredded fabric stuck to his skin along his left shoulder and chest, his hand grabbed a hold of her wrist, not wanting her to continue. 
"I need to make sure your wounds are healing Elijah." She said softly as she brought her eyes up to his once more. "Or to at least give me the peace of mind that this looks way worse than it is." 
"For once let someone take care of you." Rebekah added and pulled his hand away from Y/N. It had been too easy to remove his hand. His strength is almost non-existent given what he'd been through. 
Elijah hated that he couldn't get his mind to process the protest he wanted to give. He hated that he couldn't give a strong enough response to say he'd deal with it later. But the spell within his mind made it difficult to think clearly for more than a second or two at a time. 
Elijah’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as she began to move the fabric away from his chest. He didn't care about the wounds he was facing. He didn't even care that Y/N and Rebekah were caring for him. It was what laid just under the layers of fabric she was removing, that had him worried. 
Quickly dipping the towel into the bowl of water between her and Rebekah, Y/N brought it back up to his chest and began to rid him of the drying blood. There was a part of her that was relieved to not see some gaping wound that he was trying to prevent her from seeing. 
That relief soon turned into curiosity as the blood was being wiped away. The beginning of Elijah's mark became clear as day. With each wipe of the towel the mark continued to grow. And as last of the reminisce of blood was removed from the mark, she all but dropped the towel. 
Just below his left clavicle had been three intertwined circles. It ran horizontally across his skin in the exact same way it ran across the middle of her back. And for a moment she fought herself on reaching out just to run her fingers along the mark. A need to make sure it was really there. 
Elijah had watched her the whole time. Even through his hazed mind he could see the way relief had flooded her eyes before her brows began to furrow. The curiosity in her eyes had been evident and there was nothing Elijah could do to fully protest in his current state. All he could do was watch her as she learned what he had months ago. 
Her soulmate had been right there in front of her for over a century.  
Her eyes snapped to him and Elijah could see several emotions flash through her eyes. He could see the way there was a sliver of excitement before hurt filled them as she tried to stop the tears from welling up. 
"What is it?" Rebekah asked as she caught on that Y/N had stopped her movements. 
Y/N shook her head slightly before looking away from Elijah. "Nothing worth noting." She said as she went back to wiping the blood. 
She kept her eyes away from the mark and as best as she could from keeping them from looking up at Elijah. She could feel his eyes on her. But she refused to look his way. 
All of her wild thoughts that had been going through her head earlier had only been partially right. She honestly never thought this was the case. And if she was being honest with herself, this felt worse. 
He had found his soulmate like she thought.  But she hadn't expected it to be herself. Not with the way he had pulled himself away from her during the course of the last few months. Not with the way she felt that she was losing her best friend. 
Elijah knew that he was her soulmate and he didn't tell her. There wasn't an excitement at knowing that the person they spent decades with had been the one person they both chose not to actively look for. Their life had been great just as it was. Until Elijah saw her mark. 
She tried to stop the spiral of thoughts that began to form. It was already too late to try to spare her heart the pain it was currently feeling. No matter how hard she tried to focus on helping Rebekah take care of him, one single thought played in her mind on a constant loop. 
He knew they were soulmates and he tried pushing her away. 
The moment Freya came running into the courtyard with Klaus and Kol behind her, Y/N pulled herself slowly away from the side of the couch. It was a way to not only keep the now unwanted attention of her facial expressions away but to give the necessary space Freya would need. 
When she moved a little too far for Elijah’s liking, his hand grabbed a hold of hers. This time his grip was tighter in comparison to earlier. He was getting better, stronger. The venom from the wolf bites was leaving his system while the spell kept a tight hold over him.
Y/N's eyes met his one more time. She could tell he was pleading with her to stay there with his eyes. Almost to say that once Freya helped him he'd explain everything to her. That he needed her to stay there.
There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?” 
“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest. 
Her heart ached at the sudden memory that filled her mind. She wanted to break down. She wanted to run to get fresh air. Do anything that would allow her to process the information she had been given in the last few minutes. 
Freya came over and knelt down beside Elijah, giving Y/N the chance to pull her hand away from Elijah. She took several back as she tried to decide if she wanted to stay or leave the area. But a heartbeat later she was mumbling some excuse and left the courtyard. 
It was only when she was safely behind the door of her room, she felt more clarity than she had downstairs. The wave of emotions she felt calmed in comparison.  While silent tears had begun falling, it hadn't felt like her world had come crashing to a halt as it had. 
"For as many times as I've come here to hide away, there's never been another person here." Y/N said as she took in the stranger. "Might have to find a new one if this one is compromised." 
"I can assure you, I've known about this place for a lot longer than you." The stranger looked towards her. "I may have been out of the city for some time, but I will know more about the history than you ever will.”
A laugh passed her lips causing a smile to form on his lips. “What if I told you I watched that town in the distance be built?”
His eyebrow raised slightly before he looked towards the town she had been speaking of. “I’d then ask if you knew what was out there before the town was built.”
“A small village.“ She responded.  “One that was destroyed just a few years after I was born. There are stories of a creature that roamed the woods that surrounded that village. A creature that was hunted but never killed.” She shrugged her shoulders before looking back towards the stranger. “Though I’d love to hear what you have that can top that.”
He laughed for a moment before he placed his hand out between them. “I’m Elijah. And I assure you, I can surpass any story you’ve been told about the area.”
“That’s a challenge I’m willing to take.” She said as she placed her hand in his. “I'm Y/N.”
That year Y/N needed to get away from the life she had found herself in after being a vampire for a few centuries already. The mountaintop just above the town she was born in had always been her go to place to reevaluate her life as a human and as a vampire. That night, Y/N had been debating on watching the sunrise for the last time. 
But Elijah had been there to pull her thoughts away from the sunrise and into a life that she had now thrived in. Elijah had been there when she needed him the most. Her soulmate had been the one to pull her back from the edge and she never knew it until now.
Elijah had saved her that night. He saved her and it wasn't long after he paid off a witch to create a daylight ring for her. A friendship shouldn't be had just in the dark. Those had been his words as he held up the daylight ring for her to take a few minutes before sunrise a few weeks later.
Her heart picked up in pace as her mind continued to accept everything that happened. The details of their meeting to this current moment made sense from a soulmate perspective. No matter how many times the flashes of memories played through her mind, there was no changing the facts. 
"What if I don't want to marry my soulmate?" A young Y/N asked as she kicked her shoe at the dirt. 
Her mother's laugh filled the air. "You don't always have to marry your soulmate. Sometimes it depends on what best suits the both of you. Your soulmate can be a best friend or even a lover. Sometimes they're both." She knelt down to Y/N's height. "There's one thing I know though. Having them in your life in any form is a whole lot better than not having them in your life or losing them. So when you are able to meet the person that knows your soul without needing to try hard, fight as hard as you can. Fight with them, for them and alongside them as needed." She ran her hand along Y/N’s cheek. "I know this doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but I promise one day you'll understand. "
The sound of the knock on her door followed by the door slowly opening had pulled her out of her thoughts and memories. Without even looking she had already known it was Elijah. She quickly wiped at her cheeks before she turned towards the door. 
The moment she had, Elijah could see that the whirlwind of emotions he saw earlier in her eyes had shifted. Even as her eyes welled up, he could see the hurt along with acceptance. And if he was being honest with himself, the acceptance is what scared him. 
He took a few steps further into her room before he came to a stop. "What I've done was-" 
"Cowardice?" She finished for him before he got the chance to even form the next word. It made him raise his brow. "Because whatever reasoning you have for not telling me was the worst decision you have ever made. And I know there have been plenty of questionable decisions you've made." 
"I know I should have told you that night." He gave a slight nod. "For a brief moment I wanted to. But then I realized the danger you would be in because of me." 
She had already begun shaking her head before he finished speaking. "Danger that I haven't already been in from just being close with you. Or to your siblings for that matter." She watched as he opened his mouth to speak but she quickly continued to stop him. "I know it's not the same. Putting it out there makes it more real and practically puts a target on both of us. I know what that target looks like. That just means we'll be better prepared for it." 
She knew from experience how easy it was to use a soulmate as leverage. How easy it was to threaten them to get someone to bend to their will. There was a dark decade in Y/N's existence where she had once toyed with humans and their soulmates. A time where her humanity had been switched and she hadn't cared. 
She knew the tricks that could be played. She knew how much damage someone could take before they snapped. The emotional torment that could be played on both parties to get the point across was something she lived for during that dark decade. 
At least that was until her humanity had been forcefully switched on. She tormented herself afterwards on how she could carelessly manipulate people by using the one weakness they all had. It was part of the reason she found herself heading back to the mountaintop. 
"If today has taught me anything it's that you were safer without me near." He watched as her eyebrow raised before he continued. "While having you by my side would have been beneficial for many reasons, I watched as my worst fear played through my mind because of a spell. A spell that provided sufficient reasons on why I was right on my decision to not say anything." 
"A spell that was used to distract you.” She noted. It explained why he had seemed so relieved at seeing her safe. "And a fear that we could have worked out beforehand if you simply had told me. I spent the last several hours wondering how and when I had become the problem. Part of me knew that you had found your soulmate and that was why you were pushing me away. That maybe you were trying to distance yourself from me to make room for them." Her eyes began to well up. "I just never thought you'd be pushing me away because I am your soulmate."
Elijah shook his head slightly as guilt filled him. He could see in that moment how hurt she had been by it. The emotions she had displayed when he first came into the room broke down bit by bit. And the thought that she believed she was the problem stung him in ways he never believed it would. 
"I don't know if I can be what you need me to be." He said a moment later. "It has been proven time and again that whenever I let an ounce of happiness into my life, it's quickly taken away. I refuse to have the same thing happen to you. And if that means keeping you at a distance or even you leaving the city-" 
"Nothing has to change!" She cut him off as she shook her head. "We have been by each other's side for over a century without even knowing we were soulmates. We have been through hell and back together without even questioning how it was possible. I have fought by your side not caring if I died in the process." She wiped at her cheeks as more tears escaped. "I will continuously be by your side even after this. I don't care if it is as something more or keeping things as it has been. But don't you dare for one moment think that I would be safer with you pushing me away or even deciding that it's better without you in my life." 
He sighed softly before taking a few steps to close the distance between them. "If anything were to ever happen to you because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself." His hand came up to her cheek before using his thumb to wipe away more of her tears. 
"It's going to happen with or without you in my life." Her eyes met his. "I am no stranger to being threatened by your family. I have had Klaus's hand on my heart and I'm still here in front of you." She placed her hand on top of his as she leaned into his touch slightly.  A way to prove that she was there. "I am not even a stranger to having a witch use me as leverage or even used to fight against you. I can leave tonight and what's to stop anyone from coming after me once it's actually figured out?" She watched as he took in her words. "This isn't just one sided either. I am afraid of what each new threat could mean for you. I want and need you to be safe, maybe even for my own selfish reasons. But I will not let you push me away without at least fighting to stay. I will continue to be by your side no matter how much you push. I will stand there by your side and face the enemy with you and die there with you if it comes to it. I will continue to be your friend or more if that is what you need and you'll never have to worry that I'll leave you. But I will not let you try and push me out of your life for the fear of what could possibly happen to me just because you're afraid to let yourself be happy."
Elijah's eyes never left hers as she spoke. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. Not when he was seeing everything play through her eyes. Every emotion, every piece of history and hopeful future had been displayed within them. And he could no longer ignore what he'd been trying to avoid. 
He knew everything she said was right. He would hate himself if anything happened to her while she was gone. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he ever learned the news that something had happened to her. He couldn't ignore the fact that throughout the years and even now she was fighting for her place to stay no matter how hard he tried to keep her at bay and safe in his eyes. 
The same safety that he had been trying to provide her since the night they met. How broken her eyes had looked from the moment she took a seat next to him on that mountain top. And how everything within him had told him to protect her from anything. Even himself if it ever came to it. 
But as he looked into her eyes now, he could see the woman that had become his best friend.  The woman that stood there beside him as threat after threat came. How she cared for him in his moments of need even though he fought her on it. The one person he couldn’t go more than a few days without speaking with. It was why the thought of losing her scared him even more than he ever believed. 
After a moment, Elijah nodded his head. “I give you my word that I will not push you away or ask you to leave.” His thumb gently moved along her cheek. He watched as something changed within her eyes. “I don't believe I could actually watch you leave, let alone be alone out there in the world. Nor can I picture a day where you are not in my life in some form or another. You have your selfish reasons and I have mine. But I have never wished for you to look so hurt as you have today and I will spend as much time as needed to make up for it. ” He looked elsewhere for a moment before looking back at her. “I just don’t know how things will change from here.”
The part of Y/N’s heart that expected the worst had felt relief. Relief that he wasn’t going to continue to push her away. Relief that he was willing to accept that they were soulmates and that she wasn’t going to go down or leave without a fight. And if anything, there was a small tug of a smile at her lips at his words. 
“We continue as friends, just as we have.” She offered. “If in the future things change, we’ll go from there.”
A hum of agreement passed his lips as he pulled his hand away from her. As he did, He maneuvered his hand to take a hold of her’s, finding comfort in just holding her hand within his. Her offer of nothing needing to change played in his ears.
There was something within him that agreed with that. Mixed within the agreement was the hope that things would change for the better. But for now this was a step in the right direction. A step that meant he wasn’t going to push her away as he had planned to. It was in a direction that he strongly believed he’d never lose her in the way that he feared.
“We’ll handle things as we always have.” He nodded his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. 
“Together?” She asked as a small hopeful smile pulled at her lips. 
She could joke about how they would work together as she always had in the past. She could have added in how reckless they could be. How the calm and chaosbetween them would keep things interesting. But at that moment, she only needed the confirmation that it would continually be them against everything else that came at them.
“Together.” He promised with no intention of ever breaking that promise. Even when the world learned of the mark they share, he’d keep his promise and keep each other close to their sides. As a friend, as a potential lover, but most importantly as soulmates that would never have to live without the other. 
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the lords in black are so interesting to me because. they’re so us. we’re watching the citizens of hatchetfield suffer for our own entertainment just as much as they are. we’re their accomplices in all of it
pokotho made hatchetfield into a musical because musicals are entertaining. and we ate that shit up! it’s soooo fun watching a little man scramble as the world around him bursts into song. the musical genre is satirized because pokey knows how the genre conventions work just as well as we do. we like watching musicals so much that black friday and npmd are musicals, too, even though they don’t revolve around pokotho’s plans as much as tgwdlm. we want them to sing. pokotho does too.
bliklotep is the audience and the audience is bliklotep. trail to oregon calls the audience “the watcher with one thousand eyes” and that’s not all, in watcher world blinky seems to be able to see through the eyes of anyone and everyone who loves spectacle. he wants to see the characters go through angst because WE love angst. it’s fun to watch alice and bill express their buried frustrations. blinky wants it to end in bloodshed because he loves tragedy, and let’s face it, so do we. it’s like that one post about how hamlet is aware of the audience and is angry that we don’t do anything to intervene because we want to see how it plays out. personally, I think blinky could have stopped the woodwards if he really wanted (he’s an elder god, after all) but alice shooting him shifted the narrative so that the emotional payoff would be more fulfilling if they escaped. and blinky loves a good story.
t’noy karaxis has blorbos. we joke about it, but that’s really what it is, isn’t it? he’s the fan who watches the movie again and again and again and again to see his favorite character’s dramatic death scene. he’s the guy who writes and reads angst fics by the hundreds because he likes to see his faves cry. he’s the hatchetfield enjoyer who’s on the edge of their seat waiting to see how ted kicks the bucket this time. the bastard’s box is pretty much just an ao3 account filled with whump and hurt no comfort. he’s sadistic AND he genuinely adores ted, because we fans are often cruelest to the characters we love the most. he puts ted through character growth— the realization that his life went the way it did because of his own mistakes, his inability to be vulnerable with jenny before it was too late— and he does that by writing a 56-chapter angst fic that’s still updating to this day
nibblenephim is the fan who voraciously devours every scrap of content that a creator produces and demands more, more, more. let’s face it, the fandom will never let starkid rest until we see this story through to its end. and then someone will demand a sequel series. nibbly is hungry because we will never stop yearning for more stories. he’s simple because that desire itself is simple— as humans, we need creativity like we need air to breathe. nibbly wants more because we want more. and we will never be satiated.
wiggog y’rath is the ruler and the king because he’s the self-inserting writer. I think jon matteson plays paul *and* wiggly for a reason— wiggly is the only lord in black to be played by the same actor in every single show, and that actor also plays the protagonist of tgwdlm. wiggly wants to be the protagonist. he tries to force himself into the human world of hatchetfield because he wants to participate, dammit! he wants to be the bestest ruler that the earth has ever seen! everyone has to love him because he’s going to be their bestest fwiend! when he appears in human form he’s gonna be the prom king! he’s the ebony dark’ness dementia raven way of the hatchetfield multiverse. he wants every human character to bend to his whims and to love him and to put him at the tippy-top of planet earth because he’s the writer and the writer’s main character, you fuckheads, and he can make whatever story he wants, whether the other characters like it or not! if you’ve ever written a self-insert story? congratulations! you’ve been wiggog y’rath.
and the funny thing? I don’t think the lords know that they, too, are as fictional as anyone else in hatchetfield. maybe blinky knows— he sees through the audience’s eyes, after all— but I don’t think the others do. if they did, maybe they’d be a little less tyrannical. a little bit nicer.
but then the starkid writers wouldn’t have much of a story to tell, would they?
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directdogman · 25 days
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Do you have a favourite piece of lore you've ever made. From anything you've ever made. Or even just the thing you find most interesting or that your proud of.
Mainly I just want to know what lore you like the most.
I'll answer this for both of my series bc my DT answer is a lil underwhelming.
For DSaF: I liked the phone guy lore in 3 a lot. By the time DSaF dropped, people were so used to the setting of FNaF that a new game coming out with at least 3-5 new dead people in the story was basically a given. I felt like fangames had kinda missed out on conveying how incomprehensibly tragic the setting was. For every single dead person, there is an undeniable wave of tragedy and most of the dead human employees were just reduced to names in the main series. 3 successfully humanized the company so much that people even pity/love Harry/Steven (two people undeniably responsible for much of the player's misery in previous games.)
Also liked Henry's research in 3. People talk about the logs in 3 a lot, but I had many more ideas I wound up not including. I basically asked myself: if an amoral scientist wound up discovering that souls could possess animatronics, what would he try to figure out using the phenomenon? I think the writing connected with people because it felt kinda plausible in that way. It was 'real' in a sense.
Someone in a research lab would be hacking away at the same concept tomorrow if they could prove ghosts existed in some empirical way, using the scientific method to figure out as much information about the universe as possible from this newly discovered phenomenon. His deductions were tangible, even if they were unhinged + frightening.
For Dialtown: It pains me to say this, but every answer I have to this question is all stuff people haven't seen or stuff that's only been implied but never outright stated. That sadly includes a lot of character stuff. For the world, there's a lot of stuff that happened in the past that actually connects in pretty interesting ways to stuff that seems really random/unimportant. For character stuff, I'd love to explore the datables' families more and that's something I do plan to do more in future releases (be it DLCs, short stories or even a sequel one day!) A lot of stuff actually recontextualizes their existing scenes and shows where certain traits come from. Particularly for Oliver, Karen + Randy.
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