#and my inability to complete projects :(
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i just realized that, according to the memories page, there are 22 princess variants in slay the princess. soooo who’s gonna make a major arcana deck
#i have some ideas but not enough for all of them#i also know very little about tarot so im probably not the best for this#and my inability to complete projects :(#slay the princess#my current ideas if youre curious:#moment of clarity for tower#stranger for fool#grey for temperance#mayyyybe wild for world? but i dont actually know the meaning of the card. thats just based on name#edit: googled it and Nope. dont think so#idk who it would be though. thats left as an exercise to the reader
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Finding out I have an animation project due in 2 days when I am only a quarter finished is so devastating because what do you mean I'm not allowed to draw blorbo rn???? He's bouncing around in my head and I'm just supposed to ignore him for some stupid classwork???? Wow. No love left in this world.
#I say this completely ignoring I chose to do my animation project with another blorbo#but he is NOT the one in my head right now so it's torture trying to work on it#also I just found out I need to do sound design for the animation too???? god fucking damn it#curse my terrible procrastination and inability to read instructions#i will post it here when it is finished because I have a feeling 3 mutuals would love it and I did this for them!!!
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Oops I thought about Jax in context of how he was born during the Covenant War and how that impacts his life decisions and now I'm saaad.
#rvb#also projecting my complete inability to conceptualize my future onto him.#With very little supporting evidence lol
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girlies I'm losing my mind.
#personal#vent#oh my goddddd#i thought my coworker and i were finally making decent progress on our project#that we have to present on THURSDAY MORNING#and this is the biggest project we need to do twice a year#only to find. at five fucking pm today. that she had not informed me we are resourcing two of our biggest fabric programs to a new supplier#which supplier? don't know#just know it's not going to be the one I've been planning for#and that the fabric program i DID want to resource#and had SPOKEN TO HER ABOUT TODAY#cannot go to the supplier I pencilled it in as#i don't know if she didn't know herself or just forgot or didn't care or didn't understand or what#for fuck's sake this is your job to know this stuff#don't just sit there looking gormless while i have to find out from YOUR BOSS#who then speaks to me in the most patronizing manner possible as she tells me she can't do my job for me#like motherfucker i just. need. correct. information. jesus christ.#also shout out to the big boss who last week was like tell me if you have any scheduling concerns guys!!!#and then when i told her today i have scheduling concerns because. uh. the fucking project is not going. anywhere. at this rate.#get told oh no sorry we can't do any schedule moves you can figure it out#like???? what???? was the point????? of asking us to come to you????#this is such a prolific fucking issue in my workplace and it drives me nuts#it's like management have heard these trite phrases on a managing people skills course somewhere#and not realised you need to back it up. with actual. actions.#also my manager whomst i loved is now on maternity leave and her replacement is someone i've worked with previously and. hm. suffice to say#she has not changed one bit#in regards to her complete inability to stand up for her team#i'm sure she has her good points but she's as supportive as a fucking wet paper towel#ignoring me trying to set boundaries on my time#but making sure SHE leaves on time for school pickup
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pls can u explain about your character that’s like the bikes falling image please i’m so interested
hmmmm okay the best i can do without getting totally neck-deep in my own convoluted lore is
a bicycle accident is a really important point in her backstory and serves as kind of a defining moment that separates a "before" and "after" period of her life. even though the actual incident on the bike is not the important part (the things that actually change "before" into "after" are not direct consequences of the bike accident) she continues to use it as a temporal landmark, ie referring to things as happening "the year before i fell off the bike"
she has total locked-in syndrome and has no direct control over her physical body, she communicates exclusively through a brain-computer interface; she repeatedly asks her parents and caretakers to cut her hair, but her parents refuse because they want her to "look pretty", so she has extremely long black hair (visual resemblance to the bicycle path image) that serves as a symbol for... a lot of things, really, but chiefly it represents the lack of agency over her own life
the plot of the story revolves around her (+ another character) manipulating reality -- again i'm trying not to get into the weeds here both because it would be very difficult to read and because i want to keep some of this private until i actually format this story into a public-facing work -- in a way that involves making note of and influencing a huge number of tiny, almost imperceptible starting conditions in order to make certain end states more likely. essentially, they are figuring out exactly what position every part of the bike needs to be in, how hard you need to push it, the material the floor needs to be made of, every detail of the ambient atmosphere, et cetera in order for it to move, unsteered, along a specific track. this is not exactly "time travel" but it does involve acting across seemingly impossible distances of both time and space (if the phrase "statistical proxy distillation tracing" means anything to you, it's something similar to that)*
so the unsteered bicycle serves pretty neatly as a thematic, visual, and narrative representation of this particular character. her name is tallulah.
also, the original paper isn't sourced on the tumblr post nor the reddit post, which is a shame because it is quite good. it's about experimenting with getting an artificial intelligence to ride a (simulated, virtual) bicycle.
it's pretty short and, in my opinion, worth reading even if you don't really care about physics simulations or ai or whatever. there are some fun footnotes.
*nb: the phrase "statistical proxy distillation tracing" originates from mother horse eyes post #77, where it is used to refer to some very complicated and arcane process beyond the scope of the narrator's (and the reader's) understanding. this is a rhetorical device and statistical proxy distillation tracing is never actually explained, which is fine, because all we need to know for the sake of the story is that it lets someone influence things they otherwise should have no control over, and it is only the consequences of that influence that we care about.
#thank you for asking!#writing all this out made me want to make a whole suite of character-themed sideblogs so i can gather up stuff like this shsfkskfk#i have ... seven main characters? five of them are part of the project that is my main focus right now and the other two#(including tallulah) are part of the like. other-side-of-the-same-coin parallel narrative that is structurally completely different#but the two are fundamentally intertwined due in no small part to my inability to write two stories that are actually about different thing#its The Struggle To Accept Yourself As You Are And Make Yourself What You Want To Be all the way down baby
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i would really like to do more detailed/elaborate drawings and stuff but every time a piece takes more than like 4 hours my eyes start to glaze over
#most of my drawings are completed in one sitting#if i stop for a day or two there's a 50% chance i return to it at all and the percentage drops by 2% each day i dont#this is why i have a chronic inability to keep up any sort of project#alpha barks
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Another Clone Danny au, but the twist is he's basically reincarnated. CW shoved his core into a soulless LoA Damian clone to keep the halfa from completely dying after his original human body was destroyed in his og dimension. Danny is currently mute, too. Be warned, this is long. [Pt 2 here]
Danny had become completely aware in his new body after about a month of barely processing what is happening. The trauma of everything that's gone wrong in his life putting him in a disassociative state while his body's creators train and test him for something. It takes a while for him to realize he's not their first clone, but is the first to not be a soulless husk. These people talk too freely around him, but rarely each other, confident in his inability to understand anything outside of orders. So he decides to play along, learning about this hell hole and what little of the outside world he can. He takes the latter with a grain of salt, he can smell how delusional his creators are.
"Hmm, something is defective with this clone." A tall, beautiful woman says while glaring at Danny's eyes, "Damian's eyes are Juniper. This thing's eyes have been fading to a bluer colour every time I see it. Someone has made a mistake.... no matter. Beloved and my son shouldn't notice it's eyes are pine if we send it now. It is ready?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Give it its instructions and get it out of my sight."
And this is how Danny learns he's been made to attempt to kill his template or die trying. He gets the full feeling that they expect him to die, like the, apparently, dozen before him. (He hides his amusement when realizing he can truly relate to Dani now.) Too bad for his creators, he's not like the rest and fully intends to not do any murder once he's out of this godforsaken lab.
Keeping himself from reacting gets a whole lot harder when he realizes they intend to put him in a crate to ship him to some place called Gotham, but he stays as blank and relaxed as possible. It's only once they unload him, inform him of his Template's whereabouts, and ditch him in the middle of what he assumes is Gotham, does he finally grimace and shake off the shitty shell persona he had going on. As he stretches out his limbs and thinks on how he wants to play this, he takes in how absolutely drenched in the smell of death the city is. It reminds him enough of Amity that he knows his ghost half would never go hungry here, but what to do with his human half? He wonders if his Template and his father would care for another sibling. He caught the tall lady and her father saying insulting things about how many strays, he assumes kids, his Template's father adopts, it's usually over how pissed they are that his Template isn't treated like God's gift for simply being blood related.
So with a bit of hesitant hope, Danny heads towards where he was told his Template was. He's hit with a wave of weariness when he finds a kid of the same colouring as him decked out in a hero costume and arguing with a giant man dressed as a.. bat? Danny has no idea what he's looking at and is a little scared of how aggressive his Template is. Aggression means he's probably going to have to at least dodge a lot.
Danny's awful luck strikes again when before he can even decide on how exactly he's going to approach this, he hears a light crunch that has him bolting several feet in the opposite direction before he whips around and into a defensive fighting stance.
"Shit, sorry, BB." A blonde woman dressed in a purple hero costume says to a small figure that looks like a creepier verson of the bat dude. Purple is standing where the crunching sound came from, and scarily, "BB" is almost exactly where Danny had been. "Shit. He looks like Demon Brat.."
"Calm.." "BB"'s voice is soft and feminine, and she(?) seems to be trying to project "we're not going to hurt you" and "let me near" with body language alone. Which Danny finds impressive but doesn't trust, Purple is too tense and is too ready to attack. So when his Template and his father climb onto the roof, apparently seeing a commotion, and they too look ready to fight, Danny just bolts. He's not dumb enough to test if he can fight 4 unknown trained fighters. He can see why all his predecessors instantly died if they just automatically started fighting and trying to kill people.
The fact he ran seems to surprise them and gives him a few seconds headstart. He ducks and weaves, avoiding everything they throw at him to the best of his ability without tapping into his ghost half. He REALLY doesn't want to out himself as a freak just yet.
"Kid! Get back here! I'm sorry for scaring you!" Purple yells, slightly out of breath and somewhere behind him to the left.
"I demand you stop running!" His Template sounds pissed and directly behind him, so Danny quickly rolls to his right, dodging a tackle. Which apparently BB was ready for, because she's right there and grabs ahold of him, taking them both to the ground. He's scared, trying not to hurt her, and absolutely stuck in her hold without his powers. He lets out an inhuman whine as he struggles. He hasn't spoken a single word in this body yet, he doesn't know if it has the ability yet, and something he hadn't realized would complicate this situation in the way it has.
"Safe" BB tries to soothe, but Danny can't be soothed, not when he can see and sense the rest of his pursuers closing in on them. BB seems to realize this and snaps at her people in annoyance. "Back!"
Danny flinches and trembles in her hold, not knowing if they'll ignore her and ... he's not sure what, but do something to him. But to his endless surprise, they listen and back up several feet. Close enough to help her if she needs it, but far enough Danny relaxes a fraction. It's not a lot, but it's enough to get his anxiety down to a more manageable level. And even though he thought she'd start questioning him now, she simply waits. He's still confused and scared, but slowly relaxes in her hold, an odd sort of trust forming against his will at her calm and "Please trust I won't hurt you" vibe she's yeeting at him.
"Safe." She says and releases her hold just enough to free one of her arms. She gently runs the hand through his hair and rubs his forehead and cheeks, just softly petting him. It's a gentle affection that reminds him of Jazz. He can't remember the last time he was touched kindly, and it's enough to make him tear up. She wipes away any tears that escape. "Safe."
Once he finally stops trembling and he's emotionally spent, she finally fully releases her hold and moves to sit by him so he can sit up. He feels so awkward when he realizes his Template's father and Purple are staring him down while his Template looks like he's trying to pretend to not be interested, but is glancing over too frequently to be believable.
Danny takes a shakey breath and gives a little wave, unconsciously trying to lean towards BB when he sees their body language all sharpen and focus harder on him.
"Who are you?" Bat dude demands, and Danny can see the resemblance between him and his Template, even while he's panicking to figure out how to communicate without his voice. He ends up pointing at his Template with a nervous energy. "Are you a clone?"
Danny is so relieved at the yes or no question, he almost forgets to be nervous about frantically nodding yes. Almost.
"Can you talk?" Purple asks next and he's trembling again as he gives a hesitant no. "Yes or no questions it is!"
He nearly jumps out of his skin when BB starts rubbing his shoulder in a soothing manage. He tries to subtly self-sooth by rubbing his thumb along the middle phalanx of the pointer finger on the hand hidden between him and BB. It's the first time he's done it while not completely alone. He's not sure what the LoA would have done if they'd seen, but he can't imagine it going well for him. He stops self-soothing at the thought. BB's vibes turn very sad next.
"Based on your outfit, the League of Assassins sent you, yes?" His Template growls menacingly at him and Danny winces for the guy's poor teeth the way he grides them at Danny's nod. "To kill me?"
Danny wants to bolt again, but BB is already pulling him into a hug, trapping him. The spike in anger at his nod sends him into a panic, but BB's hold is inescapable, so he ends up "hiding" in her arms. He curls up as small as he can while pressing his face into the front of her shoulder. He feels like a scared little kid.
"Geeze, kid..." Purple sounds sad.
"All of the LoA clones have been nothing but mindless shells. Why are you so different?" His Template doesn't actually sound like he's talking to Danny, but even if he was, Danny literally can't answer that with some sort of aid. Though, Danny doesn't trust these people enough to explain even if he could. "Father. I believe we should take him to the batcave."
Danny tucks himself deeper into BB. She's petting his hair and back the way you would a cat. "Safe."
"One more question." Bat dude says. "Are you planning on going through with your orders?"
Danny can feel BB get defensive on his behalf, even as Danny pulls away to look Bat dude in the face as he frantically shakes his head no.
"Honest. New brother?" Something seems to change in them when BB says this. Amusement and resignation are as easy to read as their weariness. He can't blame them. He's far from their first LoA clone, just the first to not be a mindless murder machine.
"Hn."
"Tt. Really, father?"
"Hn."
"Tt!" Danny blinks in fascination at the weird monosyllable conversation between his Template and his father. BB gets up before pulling Danny to his feet. She keeps a loose hand on his wrist, probably in case he tries to bolt again, but it's still nice. It does get awkward when she keeps her hold as they climb off the roof, and Danny needs a little help getting down with only one hand.
He tucks himself half behind BB when Purple decides to ask him a random assortment of questions while they wait for something called "the batmoble". He's a bit intimidated by her energy, it's so much like his parents'.
'Do you have a favourite food?' No. He hasn't actually eaten food yet in this body, just iv-ed nutrients. 'Favourite animal?' No. He doesn't know this dimension's animals. 'Flowers? Or plant?"No. Same problem. 'Are you hurt in any way?' Shrug. He's a little scratched and bruised, but it's not even in the top hundred of hurt he's been through. He's actually pretty happy this body doesn't have all his scars, his ghost half will have them, but his new human half is basically a blank canvas, and it's a glorious reprieve. 'Have you been anywhere besides the LoA and Gotham?" No. 'Did you at least stay somewhere nice in the LoA?' No? Does the lab count? It was a pretty nice lab all things considered.
Danny nearly jumps out of his skin when a black, sleek car shows up without a driver. He clings to BB when they climb in. He's nearly in her lap.
He can't help but wonder about how out of character he feels. He wonders if it's because this body is, at most, 2 months old, or if his time as only a ghost core kick started childish instincts, his ghost half IS only about a year old, or if the trauma of everything that happened caused a mental regression. He vaguely remembers Jazz talking about age regression as a coping mechanism, not enough to understand if that's what's happening right now, but it sort of feels like it. At least BB doesn't seem to mind having an overgrown toddler using her like a security blanket.
The drive is pretty smooth considering the speed bat dude is driving. Danny looks around "the batcave" in wonder when they pile out.
"Who's that?" A cheerful man in black and blue bounces over. Danny hides behind BB again and wishes he knew literally anybody's name. Currently, he just knows his Template's non-hero identity as Damian Al Gul. BB's hero identity of BB definitely means something, but all he has is what Purple called her.
"New brother!" BB chirps. Blue guy thankfully stops a few feet away while a tired guy about Purple's age wonders up.
"Why does he look like Demon Brat?" Tired guy sounds grumpy and on edge.
"The LoA apparently made a new clone of me. This one seems defective. Simply trying to run away and escape when Black Bat and Spoiler spotted him watching father and I." The new people tense, and Danny fully ducks behind BB, while Damian continues, "He did not throw a single punch and showed true panic at being caught. As you can see, he's been glued to Cassandra's side since she calmed him down."
"Likelihood of this one trying to kill me?" Tired guy asks. "I'm tired of new siblings trying to kill me."
"Unlikely. Kid ran like a scared deer the whole time we were chasing him." Purple, no, Spoiler? reasures tired guy.
"Well, if you weren't so stabbable." There's a teasing tilt to his Template's voice. Danny kind of wants to know what THAT means, so he peeks curiously at them. Tired guy just looks more tired when their eyes meet.
"Damian and Jason both tried to kill me, multiple times." Tired guy explains with a tone that'd be more fitting for a conversation about a sibling stealing a favoured toy in the past, not admitted homicide attempts on one's life. Danny's eyes dart at blue guy and Damian, wondering if they'll try to kill him too. Tired guy frowns before asking, "Do you actually know who any of us are?"
There's a whole lot of squawking when Danny shakes his head no and just points to Damian. Damian is complaining about how little sense it makes to only tell Danny a kill order. Spoiler is embarrassed and complaining about not realizing. Bat dude is giving off embarrassed vibes, even if literally nothing changed in his stance or face. Blue guy, tired guy, and Cassandra all seem very amused, but blue guy is also stressed and tired guy is just resigned.
"Okay, so introductions. I'm Timothy Drake-Wayne, just call me Tim or Drake. My vigilante name is Red Robin." Tired guy says before pointing to each of the other people. "Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, call her Steph. Dick Grayson is Nightwing. Cassandra Caine is Black Bat, call her Cass. Bruce Wayne is Batman. Dam-"
"I am Damian Al Gul Wayne. I am the current Robin and the only blood son of Batman." Danny's Template cuts off Tim.
"Can't say you're the only blood son if we keep the clone," Tim teases and gets a knife thrown at him for it. He easily dodges it and continues talking to Danny. "There's also Jason Todd, who's not here right now. He's Red Hood. Barbara Gordon is our eye in the sky, better known as Oracle. Duke Thomas is Signal, he's our Day shift so he's asleep upstairs currently. And Alfred Pennyworth is the real head of the house and pseudo grandfather, even if he says he's just the family butler. There's more, but they're who you'll most like to interact with anytime soon."
Danny must look as overwhelmed as he feels because Dick(? Why is he named that?) steps closer, hands where Danny can see them. "You okay, little buddy? Do you have a name or something you want us to call you?"
Danny gives Damian, Steph, and Mr. Wayne a panicked look. Steph comes to his rescue.
"He can't speak. We're unsure why he can't, but he hasn't even tried to say anything. Only made a whining noise when Cass pinned him. We'd think it was another Cass situation, but he can understand everything we say."
"Oh.. Maybe he just never learned?" Dick wonders aloud before asking Danny, "About how old are you?"
Danny points to Damian. He's pretty sure his body is the same age as his Template's, who is about as old as Danny's whole existence. Unlike Dani, who was made slightly younger than Danny in body, but is currently only a year old in spirit.
"No, I mean, how long have you been alive?" Dick corrects gently. Danny blinks and figures the correct answer is how long his clone body has been alive. He can explain later when he can communicate better, if he feels safe enough to do so. He holds up 2 fingers. "2 years?"
There's grimaces when he shakes his head.
"2 months?" Danny cautious nods and startles when Steph gasps loudly.
"A Baby!" Danny pouts at that, but can't exactly refute it. He does move so Cass is more between them.
Cass unexpectedly decides to remove her creepy mask, making Danny stare in wide-eyed surprise at her short dark hair.
"Oh! The baby hasn't seen our faces yet!" Steph is delighted and pulls her own mask down. The rest of the group unmask, minus Tim, who's already in civilian clothes. Danny looks at them before circling Cass so he can see her. She's very pretty, some sort of Asian, and giving off happy and calm vibes. It reminds him a little of Jazz when they could just exist, no parents, school, or ghosts to worry about. It's nice. He likes that his new big sister has that peacefulness.
"You see?" Cass smiles and clarifies, "Language of body?"
Danny brightly nods. He had to learn to read body language or die the rest of the way. It wasn't a failure to read it that nearly got him killed.
"I'll teach you to read it even better and to hide your own." Danny is startled by Cass speaking a full sentence before he excitedly indicates he wants to show her something. He can see how absolutely horrified they all get when he slams his body language into the soulless husk both labs of horror he got stuck in wanted. He turns lifelessly to each person, taking in their reacts to it, only breaking character only when he turns back to Cass. He beams excitedly at her, wanting her opinion. "That was very good. Almost no one would be able to tell."
"I can see how the LoA wouldn't know you weren't like the others if you just behaved like that the whole time." Tim hums, seemingly more fascinated than horrified, unlike the rest. They look ready to jump him, so he goes back to hiding behind Cass, deciding right now that he's staying with Tim and/or Cass, until he either runs away or they're all more comfortable with each other.
"Be nice." He can hear the scowl she's giving everyone, but Tim. Tim edges closer with a fancy piece of technically that Danny's never seen before. It almost looks like a clipboard at first glance, but is clearly a sci-fi computer thingy. Danny noticed technology is far more advanced in this dimension, but hasn't had a chance to figure it out.
"Do you know how to work an ipad?" Tim doesn't give him a judgmental look when he shakes his head, just steps closer with clear intent to teach. "Okay, I'll show you. You can read, correct?"
Danny nods and cautiously steps towards Tim so he can see the device better. The others start to wonder off and change into civilian clothes while Tim gives him a crash course on everything Danny can do on this iPad. He does explain there's basically a child lock on it to keep Danny from accidentally going on an unsafe website. It's more for his safety as he learns. Danny accepts that reason, despite knowing that's definitely not the only one, because the other reasons don't matter. He's probably only going to be using it to look up everything he doesn't understand in this dimension and communicating with whoever is in front of him, at least for now. He feels a lot like a toddler with how out of his depth he is, which is honestly a good thing right now. Really sells the "I'm a harmless baby, protect me!" thing he has going on.
"Now that you can answer." Tim smiles a little, "Is there any you want to be called? It's okay if there isn't just yet. Finding your name can be difficult."
[Danny] Danny excitedly shows Tim.
"Danny? Not what I was expecting, but it suits you." Tim's easy acceptance is wonderful, too bad his Template ruins the moment.
"Absolutely not. You need a proper name. How about Daniel? Or maybe the arabic version? Danyal?" Danny throws his most disgusted face he can pull.
"That's a no." Tim sounds like he's barely concealing laughter.
"He needs a proper name. How about Dante?"
[It's better than Daniel, but I still don't like it.]
"How about we come back to this later? We can look up names that Danny can be a nickname for and he can pick from those once he's settled in." Tim basically orders when Damian opens his mouth. "Danny should shower. I'll grab him som-"
Danny grabs his sleeve. Cass isn't here, so Tim is his current security person. He doesn't feel safe with his Template yet.
"Nevermind, I'll get him showered. Could you grab him some clothes?" Tim adjusts to the quiet demand easily, glancing to Danny to ask. "Any idea of preference?"
Danny glances at the stiff outfit he's currently in before writing [Comfy?]
Tim nods and tells Damian, "You should snag one of Dick's hoodies and one of my fluffy pj pants. Alfred probably has some unused underwear somewhere with how many times a guest needed some."
Damian doesn't look pleased, but seems to follow Tim's lead. He does quizzically eye Danny one last time before he leaves. Tim gently leads Danny to what looks like a locker room. No one else is currently in there.
"I know he seems abrasive, but that was his version of trying to bond." Tim explains, "He's trying his best. Just say something if it's too much."
Danny nods and strips. Uncaring of Tim looking at him as he hops in the shower, he only seems to be checking for injuries, then he only glances over every once in a while to make sure "the baby" is cleaning himself properly and doesn't need help. He doesn't get any creepy vibes from the man. He's awfully familiar with the vibes to look out for since some of the scientists would bad touch him, claiming it's for science. It wasn't. Needless to say, being a labrat kind of murders shyness over being naked in cold blood.
Damian shows up with the clothes Tim requested when Danny is drying off. Danny makes sure to scribble a [Thank you!] and show it to him before taking the clothes.
"You are welcome."
"Alfred will be happy his newest grandchild comes with manners pre-installed." Tim jokes, and adds at Danny's curious glance. "The rest of us were feral. You'd think that I'd be an exception since I'm from high society, but I literally blackmailed my way into being Robin and then made a fake uncle to keep myself from being adopted."
Danny gives Tim an alarmed look, and Damian looks curious.
"Okay, so I used to stalk Batman and Robin every night because I lacked adult supervision. I was just taking pictures because I was a huge fan and had figured out who they were when I was 9. Then when I was 12, Jason died for a little bit." This makes Danny more alarmed, so Tim quickly adds. "He's alive and as well as he can be now, but he was Robin at the time, and Bruce, Bruce was devastated. He was taking it out on everyone. Purse snatchers were ending up in the ICU. So I first tried to get Dick to come back to Gotham, when they didn't work, I showed up on the doorstep with photographic evidence I knew everything and demanded I be Robin to keep him safe. I.. It was a rough time. He hated me with every fiber of his being for a while, but I couldn't let Batman die. We were partners, but not family by any stretch of the word. Then.. my parents died and I couldn't let him adopt me. I wasn't his son. I hadn't had an adult keeping track of me in years, hell, B barely tracked me as Robin, thinking it would make me stop. Jokes on him, I'm too stubborn."
"That's unfortunately true." Damian sounds exasperated.
"I hired an actor to pretend to be my fake uncle to keep Bruce from questioning my living situation. Clearly, that didn't last." Tim chuckles, "Steph compared me to a feral cat a lot during that time."
Danny has to pull up his (Dick's?) sleeves to use the iPad. [Are all of your lives so weird?]
"Unfortunately." Damian sighs, "Every single one of us has a different tale of how we came to be with Father."
"Kid, you're a defective clone that just escaped from a cult of assassins and are actively being adopted by the family of your target." Tim teases. "You fit in perfectly."
Danny flusters at that, but has nothing to say against it.
"I apologize if this is a sensitive issue, but I have to ask." Damian does look sorry. "Why don't you talk? I know a few of the Clones were instructed in the past to say things, so I was wondering why you can't."
[Never talked before. Don't know how to. Wasn't taught before mission. Tall lady didn't like my eyes and wanted me gone.]
"Tall lady? Probably Talia. But she didn't like your eyes? Why?" Tim tilts his head.
[Wrong color. Fading slowly to bluer color. Wasn't perfect copy anymore and getting less perfect by the day. Needed to die faster.]
"She wanted you to die because your eye colour?" Tim and Damian look shocked as Danny nods.
[Imperfections die. Barely good enough to be sent out instead of killed in lab.] Danny lays it on thick, but it wasn't untrue. He ended up seeing other "Imperfect" clones be terminated near the end of his stay.
"Well... actually, what colour do you think they'll end up? Now that I'm paying attention, I can see the difference. You think it's a result of whatever made you different?" Tim seems excited by the idea. Damian just looks thoughtful.
[Unsure. Changed from Damian's color to current in a month. Tall lady was very unhappy by it. Don't know why change happened.]
Danny suddenly yawns. He didn't get much sleep in the crate. Too scared to.
"Alright. We can talk more after you get some sleep."
"Alfred told me to tell you you're cut off from caffeine until you sleep a minimum of 6 hours, Drake." Damian looks a little too amused by Tim's despair over that news, before turning to Danny. "Your new room is next to Cassandra's. She apparently requested it while we were otherwise engaged."
Danny is delighted by the news, hugging his iPad to his chest. Tim and Damian lead him to his new room, pointing out things and whose room is who's while they walk. Danny's dazed look and slowly making a list of things to look up really sells his new role. He's also scared to even breathe on anything. Everything is so fancy.
"Getting you your own clothes and room decor will have to wait until tomorrow." Damian informs him apologetically before the brothers bid him goodnight. And Danny doesn't know what to do with that. He doesn't feel safe in this too nice room. So he grabs one of the pillows and the thin extra blanket at the foot of the bed before cramming himself under the bed. He curls up in a ball under the head, the end tables blocking the sides, making him feel safer.
He wakes the first day to Cass laying on the floor nearby, but not under the bed. It's a very weird day for him, but Tim, Cass, and his Template are very helpful and mostly non judgemental to the mess he is. He does find a moment to naturally "discover" his obsession with space. Thankfully, it turns out this dimensions space is so different that he doesn't have to pretend to be clueless. Everything is so different and Danny kind of loves it. He's gifted so much space themed shit and books on space and alien culture throughout the week, he has to fight to keep from glowing in his excitement. He knows they noticed, but let him pretend to be normal for a bit. It's harder to hide his inhumanity in this body, but he does his best.
#tim drake#batfam#batfam shenanigans#damian wayne#danny phantom#danny fenton#mute Danny phantom#crossover#dpxdc#dc x dp#bruce wayne#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#dick grayson#tw medical trauma#tw human experimentation#cloning#clone danny phantom#tw sa mention#tw child abuse#tw child sa
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part of it may also be that I can only stomach paring back my contributions to a certain point, but I'm not well enough to fulfill what I perceive as my obligations and no one else can pick up my slack consistently enough to actually make it stop being work, so I drag myself through them anyway. the household doesn't need money from me but I still feel obligated to bust my ass for these two big sells even if it wrecks my health even further for the next year. everyone around me has other mental health supports now but I still feel obligated to dive in when I see trouble.
idk bro I'm just dragging the carcass through what I'd already committed to when I was doing better and hoping there's still something left at the end.
#part of that inability to stomach it is also self-preservation#I have frequently been treated poorly by people who were theoretically to provide care.#lack of 'payoff' is often a justification.#I have previously had to earn my keep.#so failing to earn my keep now becomes dangerous.#even moreso than before because I can't catch myself if I get dropped again.#I can't just get a fast food job and a shitty room share and carry on.#I physically cannot do that.#years ago arin had a whole Thing about how I Had to have some kind of long term goal to work towards#(this was projection. surprising no one.)#she said she dropped it but she spent a long time talking about it and it lingers.#she's also been trying to genuinely ask how I'm doing more often lately tho.#instead of being completely turned inward
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Best Friends & a side of sex
MEOVV Gawon, Sooin X Male Reader
18+ smut 13k words
PART 2 of I Never Meant to Memorize your Smile
‘You’ve got dried cum in your hair.’ Your lips brushed her shoulder blade. Gawon's spine stiffened. ‘What?’
‘Morning, sunshine.’ She twisted, fingers probing her scalp. ‘Tell me you didn’t ejaculate into my hair last night.’ ‘Wouldn’t dream of it. Though… Exhibit A - ’ You tapped a pearlescent streak on her lower back. ‘ - and Exhibit B.’ A glint near her hairline. [1] [1] 'Aim' undersells it. Last night was less a targeted strike and more a Jackson Pollock session across her skin. Stain #1 ended with her pressed against the shower wall as you sprayed load after load over her face. Stain #2: the final piece of the day; Exhausted beyond belief, you came across her back, and the both of you collapsed from exhaustion. It's really a miracle the rest came off relatively easily. She groaned. ‘It’s crystallizing. Like sea salt.’ ‘Adds texture.’ You nuzzled the nape of her neck, inhaling lilac and sex. ‘Stay. Five more minutes.’ ‘Your semen is petrifying on my skin and you want to cuddle?’ ‘Yes.’ Your hand slid down her stomach. ‘It’s proof.’
‘Of what? Your inability to control your own - ’ ‘That we wrecked each other so thoroughly last night.’ Your thumb circled her navel. ‘That’s hot.’ She snorted. ‘You’re disgusting.’ ‘Your disgust sounds suspiciously like pride.’ ‘Fine. But if this gluey patch near my ear isn’t coconut oil, I’m bleaching your favorite jeans.’ 'Of course.' 'Lay back,' she said, still facing away from you, legs curled and slotted against your knees. 'I wanna see something.' You gently rolled onto your back, sinking into the pillow. She turned, entering your periphery with sleep-gleamed eyes and pink lips. 'Try swallowing,' she said, moving closer. You swallowed. Her lips found your neck right in the midst: a wet kiss to your Adam's apple. The sensation lingered. 'Why'd you do that?' 'Why not?'
Why not. Those two words contained everything: why not when you're curled against her like this, why not when you're deep inside her, why not when you're breathing in the sweet scent of her skin. She shifted back, still within the circle of your arms, her hair tickling your forehead. 'I'm all sore. No thanks to you.' 'I was adjusting to your needs. And your needs... are an acquired taste.' You snuggled upward, her hair now feathering across your chest, almost ticklish. She had no defense. 'The champagne was a nice touch.' 'Which bottle?' She tilted her face up, eyes still heavy but alert. 'Don't pretend there weren't multiple bottles. I counted at least three.' 'Two and a half. The third was already open.'
'Because you opened it.' Gawon turned over completely, facing you now. Goddess. Goddess. You didn't say it aloud, but she probably knew what you invoked with each gulp, each strained touch, each unfettered breath. [1]
-
[1] The thing about thinking "goddess" repeatedly during sex is that it's simultaneously the most embarrassing and most accurate thought possible. Like yes, technically we all know about oxytocin and dopamine and whatever chemical cocktail makes you temporarily insane, but that doesn't explain why her particular face makes your brain short-circuit into worship mode. Modern therapy would probably have words for this - "idealization" or "projection" or some other term that completely misses the point that sometimes a person just is that magnificent and your brain is simply reporting facts.
-
A comfortable pause; No awkwardness anymore, just the luxury of looking.
'Details.' You brushed a strand of hair from her face and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. 'How's your head?'
'Fine. I switched to water after the first few toasts. Unlike someone.'
'You're a lightweight.'
'I know. But you didn't fare much better.' She laughed properly then, burying her face in your chest. 'Certified Chair Tester.'
The memory clicked into place. 'Ah. I made you rate the chairs.'
'Yup. And I rated them all tens because I was tipsy.'
'A flimsy critic in my bed. How appalling.'
She poked your chest. 'You were swaying. It was way too funny to focus on furniture evaluation.'
'It's important information. What if we need to know which one's most comfortable?' 'At two in the morning?' 'Especially at two in the morning. That's prime chair-testing time.' 'You're ridiculous.' 'You helped.' 'Someone had to make sure you didn't fall off the balcony furniture.' 'I was perfectly stable.' 'You tried to serenade a potted plant.' 'It looked lonely.' She propped herself up on an elbow to study your face. 'What did you even sing to it?' 'I don't remember.' She blew at your face. You blinked. 'Liar. You remember everything.' 'Only the important things.' 'So what's important about last night?' You pretended to consider. 'Well, first, the sex - ' 'Hey.' Her hand found your shoulder in mock protest. 'Alright, but… come on.' You made the face that said you know it was, and she buried her face in your chest again, giggling. 'Fine. It was…' 'The best.' Another gentle smack. 'Then champagne in blankets. Plant serenading - ' 'You serenaded the plant.'
' - chair testing. When's the next time, anyway?'
'Never happening.' 'Come on.' You caught her hand, interlacing your fingers. Her skin was smooth, like heated marble. 'The way you looked in that dress…' 'Now you're just being smooth.' You traced her hand - the knuckles, the flesh between finger joints, her careful nails. 'Is it working?' 'Maybe.' She leaned in for a soft kiss. 'What else?' 'The way you insisted on ranking every wine from the minibar.' 'Research purposes.' 'On hotel stationary. With ratings out of ten.' 'What do you have against proper documentation?' Her eyes gleaming. Cute. [2]
-
[2] There's something deeply unhinged about making someone rate wines at 2 AM, but it's also exactly the kind of thing that seems brilliant when you're three drinks in and she's wearing your shirt and everything feels possible. The fact that she went along with it - actually took notes, actually assigned numerical values to '$8 minibar Chardonnay' - is probably why you're doomed. Anyone who matches your weird that precisely is either your soulmate or your downfall, and honestly… what's the difference?
-
'Nothing. Found it adorable.' You chased her as she dodged your kiss. 'What was the winner again?' 'The Rosé. Obviously.' 'Mm.' Your fingers found their way into her hair. 'We should probably get up soon.' 'Why?' 'Sooin's coming at 11:30.' She reached for her phone, squinting at the screen. 'That's… two hours away.'
'Exactly. Soon.' 'Your concept of time is broken.' The phone dropped back to the nightstand as she curled into you. 'Five more minutes.' 'You said that twenty minutes ago.' 'Did I? Must have been someone else.' 'In this bed?' 'Could be anyone. Very large bed.' 'True. I should check.' You shifted theatrically. 'Excuse me, mysterious person, have you seen my girlfriend?' She pinched your side. 'Stop.' 'About this tall, beautiful - and I mean beautiful - and makes spreadsheets about minibar wine?' 'I hate you.' 'Makes terrible threats?' She kissed you longer this time, a proper good morning. 'Better?' 'Getting there.' 'Impossible.' But she smiled against your mouth. 'What would make it better?' 'Hmm. Maybe if the mysterious bed person knew where my pants went.' 'Bathroom door.'
'How - ' 'You hung them very carefully while explaining the importance of wrinkle prevention. Very drunk. Very serious.' 'I was thoughtful.' 'You were tipsy trying to be responsible. It was cute.' 'Just cute?' 'And amusing.'
'I'll take it.' You caught her hand, kissed her palm. 'Though I notice your dress made it to an actual hanger.'
'I'm efficient even when compromised.'
'Compromised?'
'Slightly… influenced. By alcohol. And you.'
'Me?'
'You kept doing that thing.'
'What thing?'
Pink crept into her cheeks. 'The thing where you look at me like…'
'Like?'
'You know.' She hid her face in your neck. 'Stop making me say nice things. Too early.'
'It's past 9:30.'
'Weekend rules.'
'Since when do you follow weekend rules?'
'I'm adopting them. Selectively.' Her breath warmed your skin. 'Rule one: no embarrassing admissions before coffee.'
'After coffee?'
'We'll see.'
You wrapped both arms around her, content in the absurd luxury of this hotel bed. The room still held last night palpably - an empty glass on the far table, her shoes abandoned by the door, balcony doors cracked to let in cool morning air. Most importantly, her hair: properly mussed, frizzy where you grabbed it, where she moved in rhythm with your body. [3]
The morning stretched ahead, full of nothing but this.
-
[3] The morning-after hair observation thing is such a cliché it hurts, but: you become a forensic expert in the evidence of your own happiness. Every tangle says "this happened," every misplaced strand means "we were here, we were real, we were absurdly alive at 3 AM." It's pathetic how much meaning you can extract from follicular displacement, but then again, memory needs its anchors, and if yours happen to be keratin-based, so be it.
-
'It was nice watching you and Sooin together. All the history there.' 'Seven years of questionable decisions,' she murmured. 'Good decisions. Like this hotel room.' 'Mmm. I'll tell Sooin you approve.' She yawned. 'She'll be insufferable.' 'She's already insufferable. That's why we love her.' 'True.' A pause settled between you. 'Do you think she's okay? About the exhibition?' 'She will be. She always is.' 'I know. I just worry.' She shifted to look at you properly. 'Is that silly?' 'No. It's what you do.' You tucked her hair behind her ear. 'It's nice.' 'Nice?' 'Adorable. The kind where you pretend you're not soft but you actually are.' 'I'm not soft.' 'You made her a good luck playlist.' 'That's just being supportive.' 'With color-coded sections.' '��Organizational efficiency.' 'And little notes for each song.'
She buried her face in the pillow. 'Stop knowing things.'
'Never.' Your hand found her back, rubbing gentle circles. 'Hey. She's going to be brilliant. You know that, right?' 'I know.' Her voice came out muffled. 'I just want good things for her.'⁴ 'They'll happen.' She turned her head to peek at you. 'You really think so?' 'I do. And if not, we'll be there with emergency mimosas and terrible jokes.' 'Your jokes are terrible.'
'That's the point.' She smiled, reaching up to trace your face. She kissed your closed eye. You held her closer. Her eyes, the small mole on the tip of her nose. Palpable, the universe of you two. 'I love you.' She whispered. You kissed her in turn. 'I thought no embarrassing admissions before coffee.' Pink crept up her neck as she hid her face again. You pulled her closer. 'Nowhere else I'd rather be.' 'Even with mysterious bed people?' 'Especially then.'
She laughed, tugging you down for another kiss. 'Okay. Fifteen more minutes, then we really do have to get up.'
'Deal.'
'I mean it this time.'
'Sure you do.'
'I'm setting an alarm.' But she made no move toward her phone, already melting back into your arms.
'Very convincing.'
'Shh. Weekend rules. No calling out contradictions before coffee.'
'I thought that was embarrassing admissions.'
'I'm making new rules as needed.'
'Of course you are.' You kissed the crown of her head. 'Fifteen minutes.'
'Fifteen minutes.'
The promised alarm never materialized. Instead, your mouth found hers again, morning breath be damned. Your hands sprawled across her honey skin, palms pressing against the beginning swell of her breasts, circling slightly, drawing out those perfect little half-groans.
When you shifted to bracket her body with yours, she squealed playfully, pressing her palm against your shoulder. 'Someone's feeling bold.'
'Just thorough. You seemed cold.' The lie was transparent. She knew it, fingers already tracing your shoulder, eyes holding that particular heat from last night. 'Thorough, he says. Is that what we're calling it?' You answered by kissing the corner of her mouth, working your way to that spot below her ear that made her breath catch. She tilted her head automatically, a response coded into muscle memory. 'You're terrible,' she breathed.
'The worst,' you agreed against her skin. 'Absolutely the - oh.' Her words dissolved as you found that perfect junction of jaw and neck. Then, disaster: pins and needles shot down your supporting arm. She noticed immediately. 'Did your arm just fall asleep?' You lied by her side. With a big grin. So beautiful, when she smiles. 'Maybe.' 'Adorable. My strong man, defeated by his own circulation.'[1] Her hands worked your forearm back to life. 'Better?' You flexed your fingers in response. She caught your index finger, pressed a kiss to the tip. 'Competen - '
'Don't even start.' Her eyes blazed with mischief. 'Maybe stick to positions that don't require gymnastic endurance?' You pulled her firmly against you, her waist bending perfectly as she gasped. Your mouth found the flexing tendon of her neck, tongue tracing hollows and dips as she arched into you. Fifteen minutes became thirty. Thirty became an hour. Sooin could wait.
-
[1] All taut sinew; the next, your nerve stages a coup, flooding your limb with the fizzy static of a thousand dying televisions. The humiliation is exquisite: biology reminding you that you’re essentially a sentient meat puppet piloted by faulty wiring and whimsical blood flow. You try to play it off - Ah, just my corporeal vessel rebelling against transcendence! - but internally, you’re drafting furious letters to Evolution: “RE: Poor Design Choices in Homo Sapiens Model #27B-6. SUGGESTION: Prioritize limb reliability over, say, toe hair or the ability to taste cilantro as soap.” It’s the universe whispering, through pins and needles, that even ecstasy is provisional, subject to maintenance, and probably overdue for an upgrade.
-
Her breath hitched when your lips found the edge of her jaw. You kissed the hard angle first, then traced the taut cord of muscle down to the soft dip beneath her chin. When your mouth finally covered hers, it wasn’t gentle. ‘How’s that for competent?’ You growl. Into her mouth. Her breathless mouth. Inching for any opportunity to breathe. You sealed her protest with your tongue. Her hands locked behind your nape pulling you closer until her breasts flattened against your chest, nipples hardening directly on your skin. The scent of her skin - salt and gooseberries and lilac - flooded your nostrils as she arched into you. Your palm slid down her outer thigh, fingertips catching on the fabric of her panties. Higher. Over the curve of her ass, gripping the fabric until the muscle tensed under your hand. She moaned into your mouth, grinding against your hip, her bare feet wrapped around you, holding on for dear life. Then her hand was on you - fingers curling around the thick outline of your cock through your underwear, squeezing just enough to draw a ragged groan from your throat. You felt the damp heat between her legs when your thumb brushed her clothed pussy.
‘Fuck me,’ she gasped, hips jerking as you pushed two fingers past her waistband, through slick folds. ‘Turn around.’ She smirked before she pivoted, turning around, back pressed to your chest. You hooked your thumbs in her panties - black lace - and dragged them down to mid-thigh, perfectly profane. Her skin burned where your knuckles brushed her inner leg. 'Please.' She pleaded, pushing her ass against your erection' You fumbled with your underwear, cock springing free against her lower back. She guided you with a hand behind her, fingers wrapping your shaft, angling you downward. Your first thrust grazed into her. Too tight.
‘Wrong - ,’ she yelped, pain and laughter trembling. 'Oh fuck. I'm so sorry.' You sidle up next to her, 'Are you - '' 'Keep going. Don't ruin the mood. Keep going. Please.' You choked; you adjusted, the head of your cock catching on wetness this time. She gasped as you pushed past swollen flesh, sinking an inch into her. Her inner muscles clenched.
‘Deeper.’ she begged, fingers clawing at your thigh. ‘Please - ’ You drove forward until your hips met her ass. A choked cry tore from her throat as she took your full length. She was fracturing. 'Fuck. Fuck - ' You held still, letting her adjust, feeling the flutter of her walls around you. 'Take it. Take it.' You breathe out, out of breath, fucking her into heaven. Nothing to offer but your length divvied into her wet walls. Hips pinned against her every turn. Your cock kissing her cervix - the rim of her moist cunt pressed oh so tight, filthy, dirty. ‘Should’ve - ah - aimed better,’ she panted, rolling her hips to take you deeper still. You moved then - thrusts that dragged just so, perfectly, leaving just the crown of your cock before pressing your full length inside her. Her moans sharpened, pitching higher with each retreat, each return. You slid a hand around her hip, fingers finding her drenched folds, circling her swollen bud as you fucked her. Her thighs shook. ‘Come on,’ you urged, thumb pressing hard. ‘Let go.’ You fucked deeper. Restraining her neck, her back compressing into an arch that left nothing in the middle. Only her nape and ass pressed against you. You dug your palm into her navel, 'Cum for me. Princess. Cum for me.' You growl, drawl. Her back arched, more than before. More than what should be possible. A scream ripped through her as she came, muscles milking your cock. Pulse after pulse. You groaned, and you followed, hips slamming forward as release tore deep into your muscles, your bones. Rope after rope. Cum served right to her cervix. Glancing off the walls, eventually sickeningly spread all inside her, filled to the brim, spilling like lava through the slightest crevice of her folds. All she could offer was a soft sigh.
-
Her back was to you, she was still trembling. Sweat glued the both of you together. Your fingers stroked the damp hair at her nape.
'I don't think I can walk.'
You smile. 'Who said you had to walk?'
‘Mmm,’ she hummed, turning in your arms. ‘Such a charmer.’ Her hand slid down your chest, pausing at your abdomen. ‘Prove those muscles aren’t just for show. Carry me.’
You lifted her easily, fireman-style. Her laughter vibrated against your neck as you carried her to the bathroom.
She opened the doors. 'Though I'd be of help, you know, my arms, and your legs situation.'
'Appreciate the assistance.' You jokingly say.
The shower hissed, steam immediately fogged the mirror.
‘Brunch with Sooin later. Before her exhibition.’ she said, a reminder to herself. Water sluiced through her hair, darkening it to ink.
You followed, hands sliding over her slick shoulders. ‘And after?’
She tilted her face up, droplets catching on her lashes. ‘Haven’t decided.’ Your palm cupped her breast, thumb rubbing a taut nipple. She sighed, leaning back into you. ‘Maybe we’ll just… see.’
'Wait.' You reached for the shampoo, squirting some into your palm. 'Did Gawon just suggest winging it?'
'I'm full of surprises.' She turned, presenting her back to you as you worked the shampoo through her hair.
'Next you'll tell me you threw out your color-coded calendar.'
'Let's not get crazy.' She was soft, content. Her head steadily went along with your touch. 'This feels nice though.'
'What does?'
'Not knowing. Just… being here with you.' She leaned back slightly into your touch.
'Even with soap in your eyes?'
'Especially with soap in my eyes.' She laughed, swiping at her face. 'Very romantic. Really setting the mood.'
'I do my best.' You helped rinse her hair, fingers gentle against her scalp. 'So this spontaneous Gawon - should I be worried?'
'Terrified.' She grinned up at you. 'I might suggest something really wild. Like trying that new Thai place without checking reviews first.'
'The horror.'
'Or walking through the park without a clear idea.'
'Now you're just talking nonsense.'
'I'm learning spontaneity from you. So to speak.'
'That's either very sweet or you're setting me up for something.'
'Can't it be both?' She reached for the conditioner. 'Your turn. What do you want to do today?'
'Honestly?' You took the bottle from her. 'Whatever makes you keep smiling like that.'
'Smooth talker.' But her smile widened. 'Though I notice you didn't actually answer.'
'Maybe I'm learning from you. Keeping my options open.'
'A convert!' She pressed a wet hand to her chest in mock surprise. 'My work here is done.'
'So Sooin at… noon?'
'Eleven-thirty. She's got that exhibition at two.' Gawon tilted her head as you worked conditioner through the ends of her hair. 'She's nervous about it.'
'Art?'
'Mhm.'
'She'll nail it.' You guided her back under the water. 'She's got that whole eccentric thing down.'
'I'll tell her you said that.' She wiped water from her eyes. 'She thinks she's too cheerful for the part.'
'That’s charm though. No one has energy like her.'
'She contains multitudes.' [1] Gawon's eyes sparkled with mischief. 'Speaking of which, you never told me who your favorite poet actually is.'
-
[1] Gawon deploys Whitman quotes like other people deploy "um" or "well". It's her tell. You've catalogued them all: 'I contain multitudes'; 'I am large' when caught crying at a commercial; 'Do I contradict myself?' when she changes dinner plans for the third time. If you were confronted on behalf of her, you'd say, to the world and above 'She's a loser, your honor'. Though the fact that she only does this for maybe four people in the world makes you stupidly proud to be one of them.
-
'You're not getting out of the Whitman bit that easily.'
'Worth a shot.' She reached past you for the body wash. 'Though I bet it's someone properly pretentious. Ezra Pound? T.S. Eliot?' You had your hand out, she spooled some body wash on your palm.
You rubbed your palms together, getting suds out. 'Baudelaire, actually.' You softly rubbed her body down.
She paused, surprised. 'Gross.'
'What?'
'Pervert.' She smiled, something tender in it. 'I see where you get your naughtiness from.'
You smiled back.
The water ran.
'See?' she said finally. 'Spontaneity. We just had a poetry moment in the shower.'
You pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. 'Maybe ease up on the transcendentalists before coffee.'
'No promises.' She tucked herself against you for a moment. 'I'm feeling very one-with-the-universe today.'
'God help us all.'
'Just you.' She pulled back, eyes bright. 'Think you can handle it?'
'I'll manage somehow.'
'Good.' She headed for the bedroom, calling back, 'Because I'm thinking we skip the predetermined brunch place and just walk until we find somewhere that looks good.'
'Living dangerously.'
'Try to keep up. This new spontaneous me waits for no one.'
'Except for the fifteen minutes you'll spend choosing which spontaneous outfit to wear?'
A towel flew back through the doorway, her laughter following it. 'Twenty minutes, minimum. Some habits die hard.'
You helped her dry her hair, something you’d underestimated, she had a mischievous smile the moment you accepted her offer of drying her hair. The best part was, indeed, the scent of her hair, the softness of it, gliding along your hand.
‘Didn’t expect it to take this long?’’
‘Not at all, it's your hair. Any time is too short.’
‘You got vocal chords shaped like a heart don’t you?’
'Only for you.' You wrapped your arms around her waist, and kissed her neck once.
‘I’m feeling beguiled.’
‘Unsafe?’
‘Very. Where’s the exit?’
‘Oh. I’m not that easy.’ You tightened the embrace.
She giggled, her hand wrapping endearingly around yours.
You had maybe 3 outfits; they were also scattered - the rest of the time, you and Gawon had to look for it. You finished just a little later than Gawon.
Outside, Sooin was sitting in her jeep with the windows down. She spotted you approaching with a grin.
'Morning,' she said, climbing out. 'I brought coffee but I drank it all. Sorry.'
'You okay?' Gawon asked.
'Yeah. Just couldn't sit still at home.' She leaned against the car. 'My neighbor started vacuuming at six AM so I figured that was the universe telling me to leave.'
You all climbed in. The car smelled faintly of coffee and the blue lavender sachets she kept tucked everywhere.
'Where to?' Sooin asked, pulling out carefully.
'I hadn't really decided,' Gawon said.
Sooin glanced over. 'Really?'
'Really.'
'Huh.' A small smile crossed her face. 'Okay. Let's just drive then.'
She took a left at the light, no particular destination in mind. The morning traffic was light, mostly delivery trucks and early joggers.
'The exhibition's at two-fifteen,' Sooin said after a while. 'They want a 'spontaneous review' .'
'You're good at those,' Gawon said.
'Sometimes.' She adjusted the mirror unnecessarily. 'It's three months in Hokkaido if I get it.'
'That's far.'
'Yeah.' Another adjustment. 'Really far.'
They drove past a small café with outdoor seating. Sooin slowed.
'This works?'
'Perfect,' Gawon said.
Sooin parked, taking two tries to get it straight. Inside, they found a corner table. The place was nearly empty, just them and an older man reading a newspaper.
'Tea?' Gawon suggested when the server came by.
'Coffee,' Sooin said. 'I know, I know. But tea makes me sleepy.'
'Since when?'
'Since always. I just pretend to like it.' She smiled at the server. 'Biggest mug you have, please.'
They ordered food too - eggs, toast, nothing fancy. Sooin picked at hers.
'Not hungry?'
'I ate earlier. Made eggs at home too. Forgot I did until just now.' She laughed quietly. 'I'm a little scattered today.'
'You'll be fine,' you said.
'Maybe.' She took a sip of coffee. 'My agent actually said 'think less.''
'Helpful.'
'Right?' She managed a real smile then. 'I should just channel Gawon. Very contained.'
'I'm not that contained,' Gawon protested.
'You made me use a coaster at your apartment during a party.'
'That's just common sense.'
'It was a red solo cup.'
They fell into silence. Sooin's hands had stopped fidgeting, wrapped around her mug.
'Thanks for this,' she said eventually. 'I know I'm being weird.'
'You're not,' Gawon said.
-
'Right.' She put the phone down. 'Tell me something normal. Anything.'
'Like what?'
'I don't know. What you had for breakfast yesterday. Your grocery list. Literally anything that isn't about auditions.'
Gawon thought about it. 'I bought new socks.'
'Thrilling.'
'They have cats on them.'
'Of course they do.' But Sooin was almost smiling. 'Are they at least subtle cats?'
'They're wearing top hats.'
Sooin smiled.
'What? They were on sale.'
You laughed. 'Show her the ones from last week.'
'No.'
'They have tacos on them,' you told Sooin.
'Tacos?'
'Tiny dancing kitty tacos.'
Sooin stared at Gawon. 'You're secretly twelve years old.'
'They're comfortable.'
'That's not a defense.'
'It's the only defense I need.' Gawon took a sip of coffee. 'Besides, you have that shirt with the - '
'We don't talk about the shirt.'
'The one with the sequined - '
'I said we don't talk about it.'
They went back and forth like that, and slowly Sooin's death grip on her mug loosened. Her shoulders came down from around her ears.
'Fifty minutes,' she said eventually. 'Think I have time to throw up?'
'You're not going to throw up.'
'I might.'
'You won't.' Gawon pushed the water closer. 'Drink this.'
'Bossy.'
'Yeah.'
Sooin drank the water. 'Remember when I auditioned for that commercial? The one with the cat?'
'You were allergic.'
'So allergic. My face swelled up like a balloon.' She touched her cheek. 'At least there's no cats this time.'
'Small mercies.'
'Huge mercies. Can you imagine? Sorry, I can't quietly unravel, I'm too busy sneezing.''
'You'd still get it,' you said.
'With my balloon face?'
'Even then.'
'Liar.' But she looked calmer. 'Thirty minutes. Oh god.'
'You want to head over?'
'No. Yes. I don't know.' She stood up, sat back down. 'What if I forget my own name?'
'Then make one up,' Gawon suggested.
'Hi, I'm… Gertrude.'
'Aim higher.'
'Beatrice?'
'Now you're just listing old lady names.'
'Those are sophisticated names.' Sooin stood again, for real this time. 'Okay. Let's go before I really do throw up.'
You paid and left. Outside, Sooin stopped walking.
'I don't want to go to Hokkaido,' she said quietly.
'Then don't,' Gawon said.
'I need the job.'
'You need a job. Not necessarily this job.'
'It's a good opportunity.'
'Is it though?'
Sooin looked at her. 'You're supposed to be supportive.'
'I am being supportive. I'm supporting your right to not freeze your ass off for three months.'
'That's…' Sooin laughed, surprised. 'Actually helpful?'
'I have moments.'
They walked to the car. Sooin got in, started it, didn't drive.
'What if I bomb?'
'Then you bomb,' you said.
'That's it?'
'Then you bomb and we get lunch and tomorrow's another day.'
'You make it sound simple.'
'It is simple. But cruel.'
Sooin considered this. 'I hate when you're profound.'
'Sorry.'
'Don't be.' She finally put the car in drive. 'Twenty minutes. Let's do this.'
At the theater, she parked crooked and didn't fix it.
'How do I look?'
'Like yourself,' Gawon said.
'Is that good enough?'
'It's perfect.'
Sooin nodded, grabbed her bag. 'If I die in there - '
'We'll delete your browser history.'
'I was going to say tell my mother I love her, but that's better. Thanks.'
She hugged them both quickly, then walked inside before she could change her mind.
'She's going to nail it,' you said.
'Yeah.' Gawon was already looking for somewhere to wait. 'Coffee?'
'Obviously.'
You found a place across the street. Ordered. Sat by the window where you both could see the theater doors.
'She really doesn't want to go to Hokkaido,' Gawon said.
'No.'
'Think she'll take it anyway?'
'Probably.'
'Yeah.' Gawon turned her cup three times. Caught herself. 'Damn it.'
'I didn't say anything.'
'You were thinking it.'
'Little bit.'
They sat quietly, waiting. Normal morning. Normal coffee. Two people waiting for their friend to maybe change her life or maybe not.
Either way, they'd be there.
-
Sooin's exhibition was successful. She sold 3 pieces. 3 more than she expected. She was more than ecstatic. And she was hired.
'I got it!' Sooin shouted from the hallway, fumbling with her keys. 'Holy shit, I actually got it!'
'We heard you the first ten times,' Gawon said, taking one of the champagne bottles before Sooin dropped it.
'I'm going to keep saying it.' She finally got the door open. 'Maybe forever.'
Her apartment was a mess. Empty wine bottles from last night's panic session, canvases against every wall, a dead plant she kept meaning to throw out.
'Sit,' Gawon ordered. 'You're vibrating.'
'I can't sit. I might explode.' But Sooin collapsed on the couch anyway. 'They want me for three months. In Hokkaido. Starting next month.'
'That's fast,' you said.
'That's terrifying.' She opened the champagne badly. Foam everywhere. 'Shit. Sorry.'
'Leave it.' Gawon was already in the kitchen getting glasses. Real ones, not the plastic cups Sooin usually used.
'Fancy,' Sooin said.
'You got a real job. We're using real glasses.'
'It's just three months.'
'It's a whole thing. With a budget. A whole mentor.'
'Who thinks I have 'luminous loneliness.' Sooin made air quotes. 'Whatever that means.'
'It means you're hired,' you said.
'Yeah.' She drank half her glass at once. 'Weird though, right? Like he saw through me or something.'
Gawon and you exchanged a look.
'What?' Sooin caught it. 'What was that?'
'Nothing.'
'Bullshit. You did the thing.'
'What thing?'
'The worried look thing.' She poured more champagne. 'I'm fine. I'm great. I'm employed.'
'We know,' Gawon said carefully.
'Do you? Because you're looking at me like I'm about to cry or something.' Sooin laughed. Too loud. 'I'm not going to cry. I got the part.'
She kept drinking. Fast. By the third glass she was quieter.
'Three months is long,' she said eventually.
'We'll visit.'
'Yeah.' She picked at the couch cushion. 'It's just. I'll be alone. Again.'
'You won't be alone. You'll have the cast, the crew - '
'That's not what I mean.' Sooin looked at them. 'When's the last time someone actually wanted me around? Like, really wanted me?'
The question hung there.
'See?' She smiled, but it was all wrong. 'Can't remember either.'
'Sooin - '
'It's fine. I'm used to it.' She stood up too fast, swayed. 'I'm going to bed.'
'Let us help - '
'I'm good.' She wasn't. 'Really. Thanks for… this. For being here.'
They watched her weave toward her bedroom. The door closed with a soft click.
-
The apartment had gone quiet except for Sooin's gentle breathing from the bedroom. You'd both helped her there an hour ago, after the toasts became mumbled and her eyes started closing mid-sentence.
Just you and Gawon on the couch, the Yamazaki bottle between you on the coffee table. She poured two fingers each, no ice.
'She was happy,' Gawon said, tucking her legs under herself. 'Really happy.'
'The exhibition was a success.' You add.
'That's not what I mean.' Gawon took a sip, considering her words. 'Did you see her face when that couple was discussing her work? How she lit up?'
'She loves when people get it.'
'No.' Gawon shook her head. 'She loves being seen. There's a difference.'
You waited. Gawon had that look-the one that meant she was working up to something.
'She told me she hasn't been with anyone.’ She said, quiet.
'She's focused on her work.'
'She's scared.' Gawon stared into her glass. 'I mean, I know the feeling now, you know? She’s never been with anybody - I never thought that concept would be so important to me now.’
She looked at you then. 'When's the last time someone chose her? Really chose her?'
Japan’s humid night tucked the both of you in this comfortable atmosphere.
'I've been thinking,' Gawon continued. 'About what she needs.'
'Gawon - '
'Just listen.' She shifted closer. 'You're good. Actually good. Not just nice, not just charming. Good.'
'I'm not - '
'You are.' Her hand found yours. 'And she trusts you. We both do.'
'What are you asking?'
'I'm asking…' She took another sip for courage. 'I'm asking you to make her feel wanted. Even just once. So she knows what it's like.'
'You want me to-'
'I want her to stop believing she's meant to be alone.' Gawon was fierce but quiet. 'I want her to know how it feels when someone sees all of her and wants her anyway.'
'This is whiskey talking.'
She set her glass down. 'This is me talking. Me loving her enough to be unconventional.'
'And you'd be okay with it?'
'I'd be there.' The words came out sure. 'If she wanted. If it helped her feel safe.'
You studied her face - earnest, determined, maybe a little scared herself.
'This could complicate everything,' you said carefully.
'Everything's already complicated.' She laughed softly. 'We're sitting in her apartment, drinking her celebration whiskey, trying to figure out how to fix her loneliness. We passed complicated a while ago.'
'She might say no.'
'She might.' Gawon picked up her glass again. 'But she might not. And maybe that's what she needs - to choose. To be chosen.'
From the bedroom, Sooin murmured something in her sleep. You both turned toward the sound, then back to each other.
'Think about it,' Gawon said. 'That's all I'm asking.'
'I don't need to think about it.' You touched her face gently. 'If you're sure. If she wants it. If it would help her…'
'You'd do that?'
'I'd do anything for the people I love.' First time said aloud. 'Both of you.'
Gawon kissed you then, soft and grateful.
She curled into your side, and you sat there with the weight of what you were contemplating. The whiskey bottle refracted and diffracted, amber and warm, like the feeling in your chest.
'When?' you asked eventually.
'When she's sober. When she can really choose.' Gawon was sleepy now. 'When it's not about the exhibition… but just… us. Being here for her.'
'Okay.'
'Okay?'
'Okay.'
She smiled against your shoulder. In the bedroom, Sooin slept on, unaware of the promises being made in her name, for her heart, in the whiskey-soft glow of her own living room.
-
Morning came with the quiet sounds of movement in the kitchen.
'There's coffee,' Sooin said without turning when you and Gawon came in. She was at the stove, hair messy, wearing the same paint-stained shirt she always wore for cooking.
'Smells good,' Gawon said, settling at the table.
'It's just eggs.' Sooin was carefully neutral. 'Nothing fancy.'
'Sleep okay?' you asked.
'Fine.' She still hadn't turned around. 'You?'
'The couch was comfortable.'
'Good. That's… good.'
Gawon nudged your foot under the table. The eggs were starting to stick to the pan.
'Here.' You stood, moving to help. 'Let me - '
'I've got it.' But she let you take the spatula, stepping back.
Standing this close, you could see she'd been crying again. Not recently, but enough to leave traces.
'Sooin.'
'Don't.' Her voice was very quiet. 'Please.'
'Okay.'
You focused on the eggs, salvaging what you could. She stayed nearby, not quite touching but not moving away either.
'I said things last night,' she said finally.
'You were honest.'
'I was drunk.'
'Both can be true.'
She laughed softly, without humor. 'I guess.'
The morning light caught her face when she finally looked up. She looked tired but also somehow lighter, like crying had washed something away.
'I meant it though,' she said. 'About being tired of being alone.'
''I know.'
'It's not…' She glanced at Gawon, then back. 'I'm not trying to make this weird.'
'You're not.'
'I am though.' She moved closer, just barely. 'Aren't I?'
You set the spatula down. 'Look at me.'
She did, reluctantly.
'You're not making anything weird. You're being you.'
'That's the problem.'
'No,' you said gently. 'It's not.'
Something shifted in her face. 'You mean that.'
'Yeah.'
'Even though…' She gestured vaguely between you and Gawon.
'Even though.'
She was very still now, watching you. You reached up slowly, giving her time to step back. She didn't. Your hand touched her face.
'Oh,' she said softly.
The kiss was brief, gentle. Her fingers wrapped around your wrist, not pulling away, just holding.
When you stepped back, she stayed still for a moment, eyes closed.
…
She opened her eyes, looked at you, then at Gawon who had moved closer.
'I don't understand any of this.'
'That's okay,' Gawon said quietly.
'Is it?'
'Yeah.'
Sooin took a breath. Looked at the stove. 'I burned the eggs.'
'I noticed.'
'They're completely destroyed.'
'We'll make more,' you said.
'Right.' She turned off the burner, moved the pan to the sink. 'Right. Okay.'
She ran water over the burned mess, watched it steam.
'Thank you,' she said to the sink. 'Both of you.'
'For what?'
'I don't know.' A small laugh. 'Everything. Nothing. The eggs.'
'Anytime,' Gawon said.
The morning sun filled the kitchen. Three people standing in the aftermath of something shifting. The burned smell was already fading.
Sooin dried her hands, turned around. 'So. Breakfast?'
'Breakfast,' you agreed.
And that was enough for now.
-
The taxi smelled like fake pine. Gawon sat by the window, arms crossed.
'You okay?'
'Fine.'
'You're doing that thing with your jaw.'
'What thing?' Her jaw unclenched slightly.
'That thing.' You poked her shoulder. 'When you're annoyed but pretending not to be.'
'I'm not annoyed.'
'Okay.'
'I'm not.'
'I said okay.'
She turned to glare at you. 'Her lipstick is on your collar.'
You glanced down. There was indeed a faint pink smudge. 'Huh.'
'Huh? That's all?'
'What do you want me to say?'
'I don't know. Something.' She turned back to the window. 'Never mind.'
'You're jealous.'
'I'm not jealous.'
'You're a little jealous.'
'Shut up.'
You slid closer. She leaned away.
'Gawon.'
'What?'
'You literally suggested it.'
'I know what I suggested. Doesn't mean I have to like it.'
'Fair.'
The driver changed lanes. Gawon stayed pressed against the door.
'She uses vanilla lip gloss,' you said conversationally. 'Very sweet.'
'I don't care.'
'Like candy almost.'
'Stop talking.'
'You use that mint one. Much better.'
She finally looked at you. 'You're enjoying this.'
'A little bit.'
'Ass.'
'Yeah.' You touched her knee. 'Come here.'
'No.'
'Come on.'
'I said no.' But she wasn't pulling away from your hand.
'One kiss.'
'You've had enough kisses today.'
'One more.'
She rolled her eyes but turned toward you. 'You're ridiculous.'
'Yeah.'
'And your collar is still pink.'
'I'll wash it.'
'Good.' She leaned in then, quick and firm. When she pulled back, she was almost smiling. 'There. Happy?'
'Getting there.'
'Don't push it.' But she let you take her hand. 'How was it anyway?'
'How was what?'
'You know what.'
'It was nice.'
'Nice.' She considered this. 'That's it?'
'She was nervous. Kept apologizing.'
'Sounds like her…'
…
'I also liked it.' She added, in the silence.
Wha-
She swiftly kissed you this time, harder, hands on your jaw. The taxi driver coughed pointedly.
'We're almost there,' Gawon said against your mouth.
'We could circle the block.'
'That's very Pretty Woman of you.'
'I've never seen it.'
'Liar.' But she was smiling now, the tension finally breaking. 'You probably cried at the end.'
'Every time.'
'I knew it.' She settled against your side properly. 'You're such a soft touch.'
'Only for you.'
'And Sooin, apparently.' She smiled, now with an air of mischief.
'That's different.'
'I know.' Quieter now. 'I know it is. Still.'
'Still,' you agreed.
The hotel appeared ahead. Gawon straightened, already reaching for her bag.
'For the record,' she said as the taxi slowed, 'I prefer when your mouth tastes like mint. Or nothing. Or me. Or you.'
'Noted.'
The taxi stopped. The doorman was already moving toward them. The moment broke, but the understanding remained - she'd given something, watched something, felt something she hadn't expected. And maybe that was okay.
-
The hotel already felt like home. Two days. Just two days and the air carried Gawon's scent.
And the traces of the entire day, and the day before that.
You carried a box of cookies that Sooin made into the villa. She said it was just a parting gift just for today, but it felt more like she was trying to forget what happened. It was the opposite for you, you couldn't forget; and the fresh smell of the cookies, reminded you exactly of Sooin's plump lips, pressed desperately against yours, as the scent of the cookie caramelized in the oven.
You left the box of cookies on the table.
The door to the bathroom clicked when you sat on the bed. And Gawon emerged. Sheer stockings covering her feet to the midway of her thighs. A stunningly webbed black lingerie piece that covered just the right amount to leave you anguish, while still narrowly hiding everything.
Her bra was the same too, the underswell, the upswell, the way her breasts coupled just over the edge of the bra, just so, god almighty.
-
'Sit on that chair.' She was firm.
You moved, still admiring her, but now sat facing her.
She approached, slowly at first, between you and the bed, and she sat.
'I suppose this is what I planned as payback.'
'Because of yesterday.'
'Among other things. You kissing Sooin, keeping me sore this entire week.'
Her stocking-clad foot traced a deliberate path along your denim-clad thigh - a slow exploration. ‘Gawon.’ The name escaped you, raw and pleading.
‘Hush.’
Your fingers dug into the chair’s worn knit fabric. Her toes pressed, finally, against the aching bulge straining your jeans - then lifted away. ‘Gawon.’
‘Keep saying my name.’ A command.
Both feet settled heavily on your thighs now, warm soles pressing heat through denim. Your knuckles whitened. ‘What do you want? Tell me.’
‘Help me. With your feet.’
‘Good boy.’
One foot slid upward, the nylon catching on your zipper. A single toe hooked under the button. Relief was a breath away. ‘Take it out.’
‘What?’
‘Take it out.’ Her foot pressed down, the arch molding perfectly to your trapped erection. Toe pads dragged firmly along the swollen length. ‘Look at you. Hard just from my feet. Naughty boy.’
‘You’re the reason.’ Your voice was gravel. Her sole pressed harder, feeling the rigid heat through the layers of cotton and denim.¹
Her hands clenched the bedsheets, knuckles taut.
Then - emptiness. Her feet withdrew.
You looked up, lost. ‘Wh - '
Her fingers hooked the waistband of her skirt. A slow, slide down endless legs. The fabric caught briefly on her toes before pooling on the floor. Art unveiled.
You released the chair, transfixed. The air hummed with worn nerves. She planted her feet firmly on the mattress edge, wiggling her toes - a deliberate provocation. Her gaze pinned you, savoring your desperation.
Slowly, deliberately, she ripped the seam of her left stocking. White-painted toes emerged. ‘These were expensive,’ she murmured. ‘I expect… reciprocation.’ The contrast - torn black nylon against creamy skin - was devastating.
‘Take it out.’ This time, it was final. You shoved your boxers down, freeing yourself.
Gawon’s eyes widened. Her left foot landed on your bare thigh, sole searing against skin. Then the right. Both feet bracketed your shaft, radiating unbearable heat just millimeters away.
‘Let me show you what these can do.’ A soft, dangerous smile.
Her feet closed around you. Her warm textured soles around your shaft, bare toes wiggling, brushing. Pressure. Friction. Gawon grinned, your cock trapped between her arches, twitching, helpless, pooling with precum.
She asked you to move closer, ‘Wait - closer. I can - ’
You dragged the chair forward immediately, wood scraping floor. She slid toward the edge. Your hands locked around her thin calves, feeling the flex of muscle beneath nylon.
‘That… works.’ Her breath hitched. One hand slid down her stomach, fingers pressing into soft skin below her navel. Lower. Beneath the lace edge of her panties. A sigh escaped her as her fingers moved slow, shadowing across her lace panties, hints of knuckles, fingers, the soft squelch. Her hand emerged glistening.
‘God. You’re so wet.’ You barely tear out.
‘Like you wouldn’t believe.’ She held up her slick-coated hand. ‘Want it? Be good. Take it.' She wrapped that wetness around your cock. Tight. She spat into her other palm. Both hands worked you now, while her feet maintained their tight grip at the base of your cock, barely moving, but destroying your nerves nonetheless.
Then she moved. Her hand held crown of your cock as her soles pressed heavily on either side. Her hand worked the precum down, her feet worked all of it: saliva, precum, her slick.
You twitched. Back arching. Your grip on her calves was too tight at some point, to which she moaned a soft rebellion: you stopped immediately.
You dug your toes into the carpet, your biceps pulsed, you lost oxygen after every filthy pass of her feet along your length.
And yet,
Her feet never stopped - a slow, torturous undulation against your shaft. The textured nylon dragged and pulled every moan from you, every hunchback position to prevent spilling on her textured soles rubbing against the slit of your cock.
Then just as you half-twitched to completion.
She stopped.
'You want my hand?'
'Yes.' You barely say.
You were prey to Gawon: 'Louder, beg for it.'
'Please. Your hand. My cock. Please.'
Her hand gripped your cock like it was a squeeze toy, a welcome sensation when you're passing in and out of consciousness.
Every downward stroke of her hands synced with her soles pressed hard around your cock.
'Look at you,' she breathed. 'Twitching like a rabbit in a snare.'
A strangled sound escaped you. Her thumbs circled your swollen head, smearing her wetness mixed with yours. Pre-come slicked the path. The schlick-schlick of her pumping hands synced with the shush-shush of nylon soles gliding.
Then she changed rhythm.
Her feet stilled, clamped tight just below the head. Her hands accelerated, twisting on the upstroke, thumb digging into the frenulum.
'Gawon - !'
'Not yet.' Her command was amber and honey and gunpowder pressed to your very nerves. 'You hold it. Hold it for me. Be a good boy.'
Sweat beaded your temples. Your hips jerked, seeking deeper pressure, but her feet held firm, denying release. Muscles trembled - thighs, abdomen, the cords in your neck standing rigid. The need was a live wire sparking behind your eyes.
'You taste the air?' She murmured, inexplicably.
You did. Salt. Her arousal. The tang of overworked nerves.
'That’s you unmaking. That’s what I do. Now, come here. sit here.' She patted on the part of bed between her thighs.
You stood up immediately, sitting between her thighs, her arms now entangled around your waist.
'I have a request.' She pressed a kiss to your jaw.
'Mm.' You reply. Running on fumes.
'I want you to… are you listening?' She says, now soft.
In a flash, her legs wrapped around your waist, her hand wrapped around your cock. Her heels just hovered by the sides of your shaft.
Then her heels dug in.
You let out a groan. In pleasure.
'I want to watch you have sex with Sooin.'
You twitched. You almost came. You groaned too. She's trying to fucking kill you. Her heels moved just so, the muscle of your shaft shifting in turn, her soles now pressed on either side of your shaft.
'Gawon - '
'Fuck Sooin for me. I won't force you. I want you to. I liked it… I liked it when you kissed her.'
'Gawon - ' You breathe. You were about to break. You were twitching. One more move. That's all she needed to break you.
'So?' Waiting for an answer.
Her left foot shifted. Just the big toe, dragging slowly, agonizingly, from root to tip along the pulsing vein underneath your cock. A whimper tore loose. Her hands tightened, twisting harder.
'Ok! I will. Fuck. I'll fuck Sooin. In front of you... I'll cum inside her.'
You groaned, her soles continued its movement, along the length of your cock, the whole of her soles, milking you.
She moaned. She came before you did. She moaned right on the rim of your ear, vibrating her perfect orgasm.
Holy Fucking Shit.
You detonated next.
It was a structural collapse. Spine arching, heels digging into carpet, vision whiting out as heat roared up your spine. Her hands milked every spasm, her feet a warm, grounding weight as you emptied yourself over her fingers, stripes of white landing hot on your stomach, her fingers, the carpet below the bed.
You panted, Gawon held you firm.
Gawon watched, chest rising and falling rapidly, her own arousal glistening visibly now at the lace edge of her panties. She lifted her slick, glazed hand, studying the mess with detached fascination.
'Holy fuck.' She said, spent.
You laughed.
She laughed in turn.
Her foot, still resting against your spent cock, gave one final, proprietary squeeze.
-
Tomorrow. Tomorrow was when everything was gonna happen.
You and Gawon shared a shower. Went along with the routine of days past.
With a commitment etched into eachother's hearts.
-
The day was neutral. Routine. You and gawon showered together. She scoffed when you held her waist with a half-hard cock against her back; all she could offer was, 'Tonight, you'll have all the time you need.' She didn't know how much that made you ache.
The hours ambled past. You and Gawon made rounds to cafes, pet shops, summer trees. Her honey hand was wrapped with yours the entire time, even when clammy: a soft proclamation that the both of you would be through thick and thin.
By evening, you walked nervously with Gawon to Sooin's place. She said everything was arranged. What did that mean?
The walk upstairs was even more nerve-wracking. It was until Gawon hugged you, right outside the door to Sooin's, that you calmed down. 'Sooin deserves the best. You deserve the best. I won't be jealous. I want Sooin to feel loved - more than just a kiss. I want you to understand, more than just sex, that I'll be forever yours.'
'It's a pity I can't throw you against this wall and make love. Hm?' You grin. She grins back. You kiss. You have no idea what you did to deserve Gawon.
The door softly cranked open and Sooin was stood there. Her hands raised perpendicular, waiting for you.
You walked towards her, then hugged her.
Sooin stood on her toes for a moment, readjusting her arms around your neck. She was secure, holding your head, looking at you; maybe she was trying to conceptualize something, something more foreign than just kissing.
Your hands were at her waist now, against her warm skin.
You were already half-hard. Half-dizzy. Crazed: Gawon's watching you, Sooin wants you. Focus, for once, focus.
Two beautiful women, one observing, one right in your arms - the one that isn't your girlfriend. You were confused.
Things were uncoiling. You aren't sure what it was.
'Kiss me. Again. More. As much as it takes.' Sooin whispered, right on your ear. Her moist breath tingling the side of your ear, your face.
Your breath caught. AWOL. You looked at Sooin once more. Her cheeks flush, her breaths heavy, her hair tangled so perfectly around your fingers.
You caught the side of her chin with one hand. Tilting her head just a little, just so, and you touched her lips. She was breathing fast, her heart was beating, you felt it on her lips.
You slid your tongue between her lips, selfishly. mmph she says, christ almighty. You traced her lips, her tongue.
Her arms tightened around your neck, and she took initiative: pushing her tongue deep into your mouth. You moved in response, in surprise. 'Gently' you whisper, she nods; now, licking softly, her tongue to yours, exploring you. Her hands were stretching the quarter-zip that Gawon bought for you.
You were catastrophically hard. You weren't privy to what Gawon was doing, what she was saying, most of all, what her reaction was. You were a deer under spotlight. Sooin coodinating perfectly to make sure you couldn't look at Gawon.
'Was that good?' She asked. Cheeks flush. Breathing heavily. Her hips were gently rocking against you. On your hardness.
'Yes. That… was perfect.' You whisper, just loud enough. Gawon surely heard it. Your cock jerked in excitement.
Without saying anything, you pulled her tight, entering her mouth once more, harder, without sympathy. She squealed something. You kissed her hard. Passionately. Far passionately than before, far more than the other times.
Your arm seized the small of her back. You helped her rock her body against your hardness. She was moaning in tandem with your pushes and pulls.
You looked down to see, to go past concept, to see what you were doing to Sooin. But before then, Sooin pulled your chin again, and kissed you hungrily.
Don't worry.
Just enjoy it.
'Christ almighty Sooin.' You balk, speech almost unintelligible. Desperately clinging to Sooin's body.
'Grind into me. Please.' She begged. That was it. That did it.
You nearly lifted her into the air as you ground yourself deep into her. Separated by cloth. Your cock against her pussy.
She moaned deep into your mouth. Her husky voice destroying a piece of you every time.
'I'm gonna come.'
'Keep going. Please. Keep going.'
You desperately move. Forgetting everything. Concepts forgotten. Just Sooin body perfectly sidled up on your brick-hard cock.
Then:
Gawon wrapped her arms around your shoulders. Forehead against your nape.
'I want in.'
Sooin retreated back. Cheeks red. Breathing heavily.
Gawon’s lips left a searing trail down your neck - half-graze, half-bite - as her fingers hooked the hem of your shirt. Fabric rasped upward, baring skin to the cool air and her hotter mouth. She mapped your shoulders, the tense cord of your triceps, then circled to face you, eyes locked on yours as her tongue flicked a nipple. The jolt went straight to your groin.
‘I want to suck your cock.’
No preamble. No permission asked. Her hands were already at your waistband, deftly working the button, the zipper teeth parting like a sigh. Your fingers tangled in her hair, not guiding, just anchoring, as she sank to her knees.
Behind her, Sooin stood frozen. Back pressed to the doorframe, knuckles white where she gripped the wood. Her breath hitched - a soft, involuntary sound. Gawon heard it. Didn’t turn. Just smiled against your hipbone, her breath humid through the thin cotton of your briefs.
‘Watch,’ Gawon murmured, not to you.
She peeled the briefs down. Your cock sprang free, flushed and straining and dripping with pre cum. Gawon’s gaze didn’t leave Sooin’s face as she took you into her mouth.
Her cheeks hollowed out, a gentle sucking noise rang out as your knees almost buckled right then and there.
The soft whimpers of Gawon going deeper.
The slick noise of her tongue circling the head.
Sooin made a sound - a whimper trapped in her throat. Gawon hummed around you, the vibration ricocheting up your spine. Encouragement? Mockery? Impossible to tell.
‘Gawon - ’ you choked out.
She pulled off with a filthy pop. ‘Patience.’ Her hand replaced her mouth, stroking slowly. Deliberate. Theatrical. ‘She’s never seen this, has she? Never seen how pretty a man comes apart.’
Sooin’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed on Gawon’s hand moving on your shaft. A fevered flush crept up her neck.
Gawon’s free hand reached back, blind, and found Sooin’s wrist. ‘Touch him,’ she ordered, voice thick around the command. ‘Just here.’ She guided Sooin’s trembling fingers to your hip, to the tense muscle jumping beneath sweat-damp skin. ‘Feel how hard he is for us.’
Sooin’s touch was feather-light. Terrified. Electrifying. Her fingertips traced the V of your pelvis, then flinched back.
‘Look at him,’ Gawon insisted, taking you deep again, hollowing her cheeks. _‘Look at what we do to him.’
Sooin’s breath stuttered. This time, when her hand returned, it didn’t tremble. Her palm flattened against your stomach, feeling the clench and release of muscle as Gawon sucked harder, faster. Her thumb brushed the base of your cock where Gawon’s lips stretched tight.
Two hands now. Two women. One unbearable friction.
Gawon moaned around you - a sound of pure satisfaction - and Sooin echoed it, softer, wonderstruck. Her nails bit lightly into your hip as Gawon took you to the hilt, throat working, eyes watering but never closing, never looking away from Sooin’s rapt, overwhelmed face.
Gawon’s throat flexed - a tight, rippling swallow against the head of your cock. Her nose pressed into your base. You felt the ridge of your crown catch momentarily on the tense ring of muscle at the back of her mouth before she forced herself deeper, her throat opening in a practiced spasm. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, tracking mascara-smudged paths down her flushed cheeks. She didn’t blink. Didn’t look away from you.
Her lips sealed impossibly tight around the root, the stretch burning. You felt the thump thump thump of her pulse through the soft flesh of her palate, pressed directly against your straining underside. Saliva overflowed, thick and slick, dripping down your shaft onto Sooin’s hand still splayed on your lower belly. The warm rivulet traced a path through the sweat-sheened skin.
Gawon held you there, buried to the hilt. Her breath came in short, desperate sniffs through flared nostrils, unable to inhale fully. Her jaw trembled with the effort. A low, guttural hum vibrated through her throat and into your cock - a physical buzz deep in your core.
Then, slowly, agonizingly, she retreated. Her throat released its grip with a wet, sucking pop. Your cock slid back through the tight tunnel of her mouth, every ridge, every vein catching exquisitely on her tongue, her palate, her teeth held carefully back. Her tongue flattened beneath you, a hot, broad pressure massaging the sensitive frenulum as she withdrew. Cool air hit the slick length for a fraction of a second before her lips, swollen and red, sealed back around the head.
Her tongue pressed hard under your cock, making you wince with pleasure, all the joints of your body gridlocked under blissful tyranny. Her lips pulsed around your shaft, the softness of the inside of her mouth, molded around your shaft, all velvety and fucking outrageous, dragging horribly along your length, the suction of her lips making a meek sound as it passed the crown of your cock.
Her hands never stopping working the base of your shaft and your balls. Switching rhythmically, squeezing lightly, fingers rolling your sac, just so, just so.
'Fuck. Gawon.'
'God. I love you. And this cock. And everything.' She breathed out, all flush and bothered, intermittently sending a hand down her panties, knuckles shadowing along her panties as she fucked herself on her fingers.
Gawon's saliva ran glistening along your shaft. Before it could pass down your legs, her lips surrounded your shaft again. Slicking Sooin's fingers where they still pressed against your hip. The sound was obscene: wet schlicks on the upstroke, guttural swallows of choked gasps when she surfaced, the constant drip onto skin.
Her hot gusts fanned your wet skin when she, occasionally, came up for air: short, sharp inhalations followed by low moans directed at you, directed at her fingers working on her pussy, before she plunged down again.
Sooin’s hand on your hip shifted. Her thumb found the taut tendon running from your hip bone towards your groin. She pressed into the rigid cord of muscle, her nail scraping lightly through the sweat and Gawon’s spit. Her other hand, the one Gawon had guided, lifted from your belly. You felt her hesitation in the air above your cock, then the tentative brush of a fingertip against the slick, spit-sheened head - just below where Gawon’s lips were sealed. A jolt shot through you.
Gawon felt it too. Her eyes, locked on Sooin’s, narrowed slightly. She increased the suction, hollowing her cheeks sharply, pulling Sooin’s focus back to her mouth, her control. She released you with another filthy pop, saliva stringing between her lower lip and your crown.
'See?' Gawon rasped, her voice wrecked. She didn't break eye contact with Sooin. Her tongue darted out, broad and pink, lapping at the pre-come beading at your tip, collecting it messily. 'See how he leaks for it?' She guided your cockhead back to her lips, her tongue swirling over the slit once more before taking you in, not deep this time, just the head, sucking hard and fast, her cheeks collapsing inward. 'All this… just from my mouth. Imagine.'
Gawon looked at you once again. This time, she stood up, wrapping her arms around your neck before kissing the side of your face, then pressing her tongue deep into your mouth.
Sooin stood there, wet-handed, even flusher, but she still just stood there: waiting, patiently.
'Sooin.'
That was all she had to say for Sooin to rush back towards you. But before she came, Gawon pushed you. You lost the abiltiy to maintain balance a long time ago, your knees were fucked, your brain was totally fucked. You were just fucked.
So you fell. Onto the bed.
'Calculated.' You breathe, masking the previous panic in your voice.
'Always.' Gawon says. And she leans on you, her knees on the bed. Hand on your wet cock.
Her lips surrounded your nipple, and a faint suction ran through your entire body.
Gawon's hand, the one taht was preoccupied with stroking you into madness, pulled for Sooin to come. And, again, she did.
Knees on the bed.
Palpably close to your cock, Sooin kneeled closer. And her lips pressed warm against your nipple.
Gawon motioned for Sooin, something unspoken, and you felt her hand wrap around your shaft.
Schlick.
Her moved. Her hands were smaller. Warmer. Tighter.
Schlick.
'Sit on him.' Gawon said. You darted up to look at them. Sooin was silent, eyes wide, her hand stopped moving.
'Are you sure?'
'Sit on him. Dear.'
The side of your chest where Gawon stayed was warm, she was there, looking at Sooin, she slid off your body, steadying herself. Her skin glanced off the sunlight, she was paler, a born deer surrounded by two wolves.
You were complicit in her ruin. You knew it now. Your cock grew harder the more you looked; soft skin, large bosom, thick thighs. You took a deep breath when Sooin straddled you, your lungs ballooned, the sides of her inner thighs pressed to your outer thighs. Her body was just inches off your rock-hard cock.
Gawon slid behind Sooin. Sooin didn’t turn - her gaze stayed locked on you, lips swollen and bitten red. The snick of a bra clasp echoed in the quiet. The garment slid down Sooin’s arms and landed in your lap, warm from her skin.
'Ah.'
Their laughter tangled - light, nervous. Gawon’s hand darted out, snatching the bra away.
Sooin’s breasts were bare now, high and full, nipples flushed pink. Your gut clenched, a visceral pull to bury yourself inside her - now.
She crossed her arms over her chest. 'You’re grinning,' Gawon observed, mischievious.
'I know.'
'Approved?' Gawon’s tone was all edges.
'Jesus. Are you blind?' You shifted closer, easing Sooin back against your chest. She was gentle, her back was arched. She was so so soft. Her bare shoulders trembled.
'Mm!' Sooin gasped as your thigh brushed her inner leg.
'Okay?' you murmured.
She nodded, cheeks blazing with red.
A hand closed around your cock - Gawon’s. Her thumb pressed the leaking tip. 'Hard as marble. Is this for her?'
You stayed silent. The answer pulsed in her grip.
Sooin arched when Gawon’s other hand slid between her legs, palming her through damp cotton. 'It’s really happening. Oh fuck, it's really happening.' Sooin breathed, pinned between you.
Gawon hooked a finger in the waistband of Sooin’s panties. Look. She peeled the fabric aside.
Wet heat glistened. No barriers left.
-
You traced Sooin’s inner thigh, feeling the jump of her muscle. 'Tell me.' 'I want' Sooin’s voice frayed. 'Just… touch me first.'
Gawon’s hand left your cock, guiding yours to Sooin’s center. 'Here.' Your fingers met slick heat. Sooin whimpered.
'Like this?' You circled her clit, her viscous slick covering the pads of your fingers. Holy fuck. Sooin’s head fell back against Gawon. 'Yes. God - yes.'
Gawon bit Sooin’s shoulder, leaving a red bloom. 'He needs to feel you. Ready?' Sooin nodded, frantic.
You lined up, the head of your cock nudging her entrance. Her hips jerked. 'Wait,' Gawon ordered. She spat into her palm, slicked your length. 'Now.'
You pushed in - slow. Sooin cried out, back bowing. 'Breathe,' Gawon commanded, pinning Sooin’s hips down. 'Take it.'
Sooin’s walls clenched, scalding tight. 'More - ' You thrust deeper. She sobbed, nails scraping your forearm.
Gawon watched. She moved to the side of the bed, sitting next to you. Hand on her mound - fingers moving. She breathed soft. She was looking at you, how you moved into Sooin. You met her eyes, once or twice. Making sure she saw, how your hips crushed against Sooin. Gawon's grin didn't leave her, her lust-gleamed eyes didn't change. Her fingers were still inside of her. In the background, as you stared at Gawon, Sooin let out pitiful moans that was more inspiration than anything else.
You moved deeper. Found her shoulder to bite on. Her pussy was wet, hot, her slick passed through your entire shaft, collecting down your balls.
'I'm fucking losing it. I'm fucking losing it.' She repeated, in your ear. You went faster.
Her hips moved up, your hands pulling as support, and she crashed back down. Her ass against your thighs. Smack.
She let out a pitiful moan again.
She moved back to find a different position. Her breasts bounced up and down. Your cock ground against her g-spot. She came.
She came just like that.
'Ahhh. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck' She buried her head in your shoulder. Trembled. Lost herself. Regained herself. Grinded her hips just a little. Letting your cock move and scrape against her sensitive spots.
'How does it feel? His cock grinding you. All inside you. Stretching you out.' Gawon's hand held Sooin's sweaty nape.
It wasn't question: an observation.
Her pink pussy was swollen around you. Morphed around you. Her stomach moved as her diaphragm collected oxygen. It felt unreal, her pussy tightening as she breathed in and out. It reminded you of a grounding detail, as the pause ensued: fucking Sooin as your girlfriend watched.
This time, Gawon's hand wrapped behind you, and she kissed you; first, on your ear, a tender, wet kiss that traced the outline of your ear; then, as you tried to kiss her back, her finger hovered over your chin, and pushed it back: 'I'm a spectator.' That was all she said.
Sooin was still breathing softly, her forehead still pressed against your left shoulder. The sides of her body still moved in accordance of her breaths, her humid breath hovered on your collarbone - worn out, high on bliss.
'Slap me.'
What?
'What?' You say, this time, with your mouth. Doubly processing.
'I want you to slap me.'
You look at Gawon, only to find her smiling.
The only clueless person in the room - you. [1]
-
[1] The exact moment your brain, which was previously operating on a simple "This is nice / This is weird / This is hot" flowchart, blue-screens entirely. It's the dawning, ice-water horror of realizing that the other two players in this… scenario… have apparently been co-authoring a very specific Google Doc of Kinks & Agendas in a shared folder you were never invited to.
-
Sooin blew air at you. You looked, she was smiling, still rawing from the pleasure, and then, just then, kissed you.
You locked your arms behind her back, and pressed your cock so deep that she groaned into your mouth. Her tongue moved in frantic movements as you pressed deeper and deeper into her; her folds pressed wet against the base of your shaft. You let the kiss go - to Sooin's dismay: mouth open and dizzy and flushed - to press your face against the space between her breasts; on either side, there was hills of perfect upswell dotted with pinkish nipples. You held her firmer as you plowed into her. She was still, victim to her pleasure, moaning, groaning, releasing her slick - some of it dripping on the carpet.
You saw Gawon move behind Sooin in your periphery. A sharp crack echoed - Gawon’s palm landing hard on Sooin’s ass. Sooin yelped, her fingers digging into the back of your neck. You held her hips down against your lap, your cock buried deep inside her, and delivered your own stinging slap to her other cheek. The flesh jiggled, already flushed.
'Thought you could just take and take, little thief?' Gawon hissed, naked, pressing her front against Sooin’s sweaty back. Her lips brushed Sooin’s ear. 'Squeeze her tight. Make her gush. Let her ruin her own fucking carpet.'
No more talk needed.
You stood, lifting Sooin’s legs, hooking them over your shoulders. She groaned, back arching, as the angle drove you impossibly deeper, the head of your cock grinding against her cervix. A raw, punched-out whimper escaped her - she was still trembling from her last climax.
You pulled her ass back, just enough for the tip to catch, then slammed home. A wet thwack of flesh meeting flesh. Sooin shrieked. You grunted, the force driving your hips forward.
Glancing down, you saw Gawon on her knees between Sooin’s splayed legs. One hand was frantically rubbing her own swollen clit. The other hand rose and fell in weak, almost spastic slaps against Sooin’s reddened ass. 'Close… oh fuck, close,' Gawon gasped, her voice thin and strained.
Sooin’s ass slammed against your hips again, slicker now. The wet sound was obscene - a mix of her slick, her cum, your pre-cum, smearing across skin and dripping onto the carpet below. The air reeked of sex and sweat.
Gawon’s head snapped back. A ragged cry tore from her throat as she came, her hips bucking against her own hand, her weak slaps stopping entirely as her body seized. 'Yes! Fuck! YES!'
The sight, the sound, the feel of Sooin’s cunt clamping down like a slick fist - it pushed you over the edge. 'Gonna - !' you managed, pulling out just as the first hot pulse surged up your shaft.
'Fuck! Fuck!' Sooin sobbed, her body convulsing. Her swollen pussy clenched around nothing, and a gush of clear fluid splattered onto the carpet between her thighs, soaking into the fibers. 'Oh god! Oh god!' she gasped between desperate cries, her hips jerking as she squirted again.
You gave her no respite. Still hard, still throbbing, you shoved back into her sopping, pink entrance. This time, you crushed your mouth to hers, swallowing her gasps as you fucked her through her own aftershocks. Deep, punishing strokes. The final sprint.
You buried yourself to the root, grinding hard. 'Fuck!' The growl ripped from your chest as you locked Sooin against you, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. You emptied yourself deep inside her - one thick, hot rope after another, painting her inner walls, each pulse kissing her cervix. Your balls tightened, drawn up, as Gawon ducked her head, hollowing her cheeks to suck them greedily, swallowing what spilled.
'You… filled me,' Sooin breathed against your lips, dazed.
You kissed her, deep.
You thrust twice more, shallow and possessive, grinding your spend deeper into her core. Then you pulled out with a wet suck.
Thick globs of your cum spurted onto the soaked carpet, joining her slick puddle. One stray pulse landed on Gawon’s waiting tongue. She closed her mouth, swallowing.
You lowered Sooin onto the bed. She collapsed, chest heaving, looking up at you with glazed, awestruck eyes.
Your gaze locked onto Gawon. She was still panting, her own climax lingering. On her knees, she shuffled forward until her face was level with your softening cock, still glistening with a mix of your spend and Sooin’s slick. She let the heavy head rest on her tongue for a heartbeat, tasting it, before closing her lips around your shaft. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking firmly, cleaning every inch with slow swipes of her tongue.
To be continued.
a\n: And here we are! Hopefully this fic isn't too bad, I forgot how to write, and then maybe remembered…. idk. So for a few updates, I think releases will be monthly. Commissions are a bit of an issue - since i live somewhere where receiving payments or even operating a paypal account is strictly forbidden - so I decided to close the Ko-Fi account. When push comes to shove, and I mean when I'm really seeking money, I may find a work around. For now, here are my free works: monthly, utterly imperfect, barely edited, yet here. right here.
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why Asriel? I mean I really like Asriel too, I am just curious on why you personally like him so much.
I dano ur gonna have to ask 10 yr old me on this one
yeah idk man essentially I just think if the very experience of playing this game and it's major themes were translated into a character study he is the ultimate subject <- (this is why hes my fav but this is also now my thesis for the derailed rambles below)

(this is about to be VERY nonsensical and all over the place)
no but for real. I actually kind of find it difficult to put into words just whyyy it is I like my favorite character (at any given time) so much... it definetly helps a lot that I have that nostalgia from 9 years ago but if I were to play undertale for the very first time today he'd absolutely still be my favorite. I think he's pretty much one of (if not) the best video game villains ever, particularily because his story could not work and exist in other media forms. at least to nowhere NEAR the impact.
obviously you hear a lot about how he acts as a mirror to you as the player, which yes holy peak. my god perfectly done. but the part that REALLYY sells his character to me, and my favorite aspect of this, is how the game essentially baits you into falling down the exact same path he did (and probably even faster than he did) by just.. promising more. its a short game, not so short you don't have to be invested, but not long enough for you to actually feel totally and fully satisfied with just one playthrough.
undertale is completely designed for replayability- it reads you up and down and fully anticipates that you WILL play this more than once. assuming the route of the average blind player is neutral -> pacifist -> genocide, if you were receptive to the game and, in a sense, played along and took this world and the characters seriously, neutral will probably leave you with much to be desired. it let's you get attached to these characters, but ends so unsatisfyingly. makes you wonder what would happen if you chose differently, especially with flowey (the little guy of the hour) coming in and goading you on to a pacifist ending (which you also learn later that this is part of his oh so evil scheme to keep you around forever). and if your receptiveness let you actually find yourself caring about the ending these characters get, you WILL replay the game to see it through and get the good ending.
ultimately in the pacifist ending toby fox decides to spend a solid 20 minutes making you feel really sorry for asriel, only for him to then be the only character you cannot truly give a good ending. and usually, most people (ive seen) are just shocked at how emotional this little game made them feel and how much they realized they cared about these little guys. and even though you did all that to get the good, preferable ending, you boot up the game again because you dont really want to let those emotions you just felt go. and flowey is there to ask you NOT to do it, because, isn't this what you just fought to stop him from doing?? and it's something he no longer wants- he's stopped seeing chara as the only possible vehicle to his own (self defined) redemption, and hes divorced that projection of the "perfect friend" from frisk, choosing instead to see them as not only their own person, but someone else he needs to let go.
your inability to let this world (that you've expressly chosen to take seriously) carry on in its most desirable ending is what will eventually lead you to try and milk all the possible content out of it, to the point of killing everyone you possibly can just to see what will happen. obviously that's wording it pretty dramatically (i literally replay geno all the time for funsies and i like to fight sans LOL) but I'm just trying to ham up the point that this is practically BAR FOR BAR what flowey says as he recounts how he came to be so bored and apathetic.
it was your own love for the game that made it stop feeling "real" to you, as the more you replay the game, the more dialogue you skip through, the less you truly engage with it. it's kind of an endless cycle of ever diminishing returns to try and replicate how it once felt. (does this sound awfully familiar to that little guy still is this sounding like that guy to anyone else)
I also think he's just kind of funny he's such an edgy little 10 year old man. everything flowey says and does is so irrevocably tied to who he is and the relationships he had and the fact that when he died he was a little kid being influenced by the most emo human to ever step foot on mt ebott LOL. also I feel like when people look at my page they'd probably instantly assume I think "asriel > flowey" but that quite literally means nothing to me that is a chai tea moment like I know everybody has their own interpretations but for me personally i feel that flowey cannot exist as his own character without acknowledging that he's asriel and how that constantly affects everything about him (as hes pretty much his own foil on purpose) and asriel without flowey is just not so much an interesting character to me.. I just think (and again!! everyone has their own interpretations!!!) (ik people like 2 argue ab this) that the most (personally!!!) compelling way to read him is as one singular, linear person. because like thats what he is. he didn't come back as a flower and immediately hop on that murder sauce, the game just intentionally simultaneously shows you both the very beginning and the tail end of his villain arc without you even realizing you are seeing two ends of the same person's life. I'm losing track I think hahao
yeah anyway I like him ibguess I dunno
#undertale#asriel#flowey#this might be indecipherable ive been up all night#and also its obv not comprehensive#like i could totally go on#and ive already talked ab him and chara in prev posts#so this is just ab him essentially
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Fuck it *Pokemons your Jarthur*
This au was spawned in large part by my complete inability to be normal about the concept of literal soulmates ever since I was in middle school and the pokemon anime introduced Ash-Greninja and the Battle Bond ability
Some quick lore:
This AU takes place in the Ervenis region (the fan-region for my TMA Pokemon au), in the 1930s
The plot is largely just what happens in Malevolent except there’s pokemon
And also John is a mythical pokemon
And has an ability similar to Battle Bond
His un-bonded form is pretty weak, but his bonded form is full King In Yellow “I will destroy everything you love just as you have taken it from me”
(I have no idea what John’s actual pokemon species name would be so feel free to suggest a few :D)
So yeah Arthur’s over here mind melding with a mythical pokemon
In the pokemon anime, Ash and Greninja needed a whole arc to perfect battle bond and control it. I imagine Arthur and John would have something similar - except before they figure it out the bond drains Arthur pretty badly, like John projecting in canon
#malevolent#malevolent podcast#malevolent fanart#pokemon#fakemon#pokemon fanart#malevolent pokemon au#arthur lester#john malevolent#my art#pokemon legends caecus au#pokemon oculus au
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RUI KAMISHIRO — attractive things about him! pt.2 implied afab! reader in iv. ( tsukasa version here )
i. you've won in life. this guy is completely yours. the most attractive thing about rui besides all the other stuff, is that he's completely enamored by you. he doesn't think you're his— no, but rather, he's absolutely all yours. he'll follow you around like a little (???) lovesick puppy, popping up on reflections of windows just to get a quick glance of you even though he's supposed to be on his way to the bathroom. totally wasn't an excuse to see you in class.. he's thankful all of a sudden for those damn windows.
ii. hickey giver 101. i will DIE on this hill, i swear. no, not those hickies where you'd have to bite. and yes— he'll never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. even by accident, so that's out of the question. preferably below your collarbone, the neck is too obvious, and plus.. what if a teacher sees in the process? can't have that. this guy sucks and licks on your thin skin like it's gonna leave a permanent mark. at this point; you'd be even more surprised if it didn't.
iii. ALWAYS notices you. he's such a green flag for this, honestly. acknowledges every little thing you do, memorizes everything you mentioned you liked even if it's of the slightest of hints. best believe he'll pick up on it. quickly, too. whenever you pass by his classroom and mouth a little "hi baby!" with a wave and he'll mouth back a "hi my love!" with a happy little smile on his face. and his classmates are like NO WAY THIS MF has a significant other like how.
iv. actually has the inability to say 'no' to you. you could literally ask this guy to make you a period tracker as a JOKE and he'd go "ohhhh of course my lovee!". it's a bit pathetic but it's cute you know </3. rui just loves the feeling of you leaning on him, likes the feeling of you relying on him. even if you just ask him for help with studying, he would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with you.
v. his hands. no question. they're so calloused from his old and recent projects, but the way they hold you says the opposite. they're thin and long and have tons of bruises and probably scars too. but the waaaaayyyy he cups your face with his hands so gently, you can grasp the feeling of his scars gliding over your cheek but that just makes it a whole lot better when he kisses you just as gently as he holds you close. also a waist holder like akito but you know that's for another time
@myunghology — gang he is so 4ever by clairo coded.
#jian’s works!#kamishiro rui x reader#rui kamishiro x reader#rui kamishiro#pjsk x reader#pjsk#pjsk Rui#prsk x reader#prsk rui#prsk#project sekai fluff#project sekai imagines#project sekai x reader#project sekai
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two in one theory... i am listening very intently if you ever feel up to share it!!
Alright, so this is gonna be... as close to an Abridged explanation of the theory as I can make, because if I went off on everything about it I would end up writing a whole dissertation or five hour video essay script on this shit.
There are gonna be three main sections to this post - Hong Lu's Daiyuisms, Hong Lu's Themes of Identity and how that connects to the concept of Two in One, and the Daiyu-Baoyu theory itself.
Strap in folks.
Hong Lu's Daiyuisms
If you know anything about my theories in the earlier days of Limbus, you might know that I'm one of the very few people who was convinced Hong Lu is actually Daiyu, due to some evidence I found personally compelling. This has not changed, as we've only gotten just as much extra evidence to this as we have to him being Baoyu. So let me just speedrun through some of these points.
The Fucking Jade Eye
Ok hear me out. This is maybe the least important piece of evidence but I can never stop thinking about it. Hong Lu's jade eye? Not actually fully blue! If you look closely on most of his sprites, you can see that he actually has sectoral heterochromia, meaning his jade eye is both blue and black.
Daiyu's name, quite literally, translates to blue-black jade.
Now, you could claim that this is merely meant to be an easter egg reference to her, but... is that really Project Moon's style? After all, when people speculated on Don Quixote being Sancho or a Bloodfiend partially based on her appearance all the way back since near launch, they turned out to be right.
Hong Lu's Father
As of now, there is only one instance of Hong Lu referencing his Father in Limbus, and it's a voiceline from his Base Identity:
Now, if you know anything about DOTRC, this should already be raising some flags, because if Hong Lu was just Baoyu, he would not fucking talk like that about his Father.
In the book, Baoyu is consistently shown to be afraid of his Father, for a good reason mind you, as he's his main abuser. Baoyu would not be looking forward to introducing his friends to that man.
Even if Hong Lu was trying to downplay the abuse he's recieved, this would still not fit his pattern of behavior. When topics that genuinely bother Hong Lu come up, such as what could make him distort or how rich people would enjoy gifts made of humans, he immediately pivots and tries to avoid the topic at all cost. He would not bring up his main abuser in such a lighthearted manner, he would avoid bringing him up at all cost.
However, there is a character in DOTRC which does in fact have a more positive relationship to her Father, and would likely be the one with an opinion such as that - Daiyu. Daiyu loves her Father, and when he dies she completely disappears from the story for a bit to attend his funeral. If there was anyone who would be excited to introduce their friends to their Father, it'd be Daiyu.
Lasso Hong Lu's Corrosion
I made a whole seperate post about this, but I might as well mention it here as well for the sake of completion. The design choices made for Hong Lu which are missing for Faust are very, very Daiyu-coded.
For one, not only does Hong Lu completely turn into a flower, unlike Faust, his horse also gains a flower in its mouth. For those whose knowledge of DOTRC is zero to none, Daiyu is a reincarnation of a Flower given sentience due to being watered by the Jade. I don't think I have to be the one to connect the dots between those two pieces of info for you.
The second is how the halters become a noose for Hong Lu. This, too, is a very Daiyu thing - Rose Hunter as an Abnormality represents the inability to escape one's fate, and Daiyu's fate is to die - the Jia Family arranging a marriage between Baoyu and Baochai leads to Daiyu falling deathly ill, which in itself could be considered a part of her repaying her Debt of Tears - the debt she swore to repay to the Jade/Baoyu when she was still a Flower.
The hilarity of the fact that this E.G.O came out in the same update as Hong Lu being called Baoyu in-story is not lost on me.
Rose Sign Abnormality Log
The third Log for Rose Sign ends in a very peculiar way.
There's multiple ways one can tie Hong Lu's odd reluctance to talk about flowers and the petals. One is the obvious "he's being reminded of Daiyu because she was a Flower" connection, but there's another one.
One of the most commonly potrayed images of Daiyu relates to a scene in DOTRC where she buries fallen flower petals, weeping for and lamenting the mortality of the flowers and herself. Hong Lu's reaction here to his fellow Sinners being reduced to nothing but petals upon Rose Sign's death feels like a notable parallel to Daiyu's flower burial scene.
Like literally everything about Kurokumo Hong Lu
The title for this is a bit of an exaggeration, but at the same time. I'm serious. Kurokumo Hong Lu is perhaps the most Daiyu Identity out of all the Hong Lu Identities we have, and the way he is designed to stand out among them further makes me go insane.
Kurokumo Hong Lu's most defining trait is his attitude - he often complains about his position and how authority treats him, though he doesn't really act out against them in any major way outside of making snarky or sarcastic remarks.
This is, frankly, an extremely Daiyu thing to do. Daiyu is one of the few characters who audibly complains about her treatment in the household. For example she complains about not being given as many opportunities to show off her poetry skills as her male peers are, and she recognises how, when all the girls in the family are given flowers, she's the last one to recieve them and thus is stripped of the ability to pick, being only given the leftovers.
Then there's the whole. Everything about Kurokumo Hong Lu's visual design. Because once you realize just how Daiyu-like the Identity is, you realize just how weird he is compared to other Hong Lu Identities. I mean just look how he compares to his other Identities.
He's the only Hong Lu Identity with a blue tint to his hair in the combat sprite rather than the usual purple.
He's the only Hong Lu Identity whose hairtie is a ribbon rather than a jade ring (Liu Hong Lu technically has the ribbon in his post-uptie art, but he doesn't have it in his combat sprite so I'm not counting him).
He's the only Hong Lu Identity to not be smiling in his combat sprites.
And he's the only Hong Lu Identity (and one of only four Identities in the game) whose Idle sprite has its body facing away from the opponent rather than facing towards them.
All of those combine to make him stand out like a sore thumb in a Hong Lu Identity lineup in a way that makes it feel intentional, especially since he's also the only Hong Lu Identity with that kind of notable attitude towards authority. Other Hong Lu Identities are either obedient, don't express any opinion, or just straight up are the authority.
The Baoyu reveal is framed in a very weird way
This is, admittedly, less of a Daiyuism and more of a not-Baoyuism, but I thought it'd be important to mention nonetheless.
There are a lot of things about Canto 7's reveal of Hong Lu's name being Baoyu that are very strange, especially compared to how the Canto frames Don Quixote's own reveal of actually being Sancho.
For one, the timing itself - why is such an important piece of info being revealed so early? Again, compare to Donqui - she was revealed to be a Bloodfiend in the Intervallo right before Canto 7, and the Sancho reveal only came in the second half of the Canto.
For two, the framing - Donqui's reveals are treated as what they are, Major Reveals. The Baoyu reveal on the other hand happens in a single off-handed line, with nobody reacting to it in any way. Neither Hong Lu nor the other Sinners seem to hear it after all.
And mind you, it's not like Limbus is opposed to giving us important information in off-handed lines - far from it in fact. Project Moon loves shoving little bits of foreshadowing and reveals you don't realize are reveals until way later in these kinds of off-handed lines. But the way those lines are treated is still very different to how the Baoyu reveal is treated.
Usually, when there's foreshadowing in off-handed lines, it's usually either vague enough to be something a character could say regardless of context (see Yi Sang getting hung up on the Sedatives bit in Canto 2 or Ishmael's comment about Syndicates pretending to be Families foreshadowing her own history with the Middle via Queequeg) or something that is in the middle of a scene that distracts from what is actually being said (like Hong Lu's distortion foreshadowing being in the middle of an important infodump or most of everything in Canto 2 being surrounded by a comedic tone).
None of this is present for the Baoyu reveal. There's nothing to distract you from this information, as the scene is already focused on discussing Hong Lu, meaning you're already likely to be paying attention to what is being said about him. There's also no vagueness about it, there's no way you can brush it off since not only are Wei and Xichun newly introduced characters, but it's a whole ass clearcut namedrop.
The only way I can justify that reveal being there in the form it takes is that it in itself is the distraction. Think about it. Didn't I point it out earlier that this reveal came in the same update as the E.G.O with an extremely Daiyu-coded corrosion design? Wouldn't it make sense for that reveal to be there to lower your guard, make you think you resolved that mystery, only to later on reveal it wasn't the whole story after all?
Hong Lu's Themes of Identity
So this section is a bit more vague than the Daiyuism section, because Hong Lu is the type of guy to just Say Shit all the time. It's basically just. Anything that I find relevant to the idea of Hong Lu's Identity being more complex than him just being a random guy using a pseudonym, with some (but maybe not all) of them directly tying to the idea of Two in One.
"Which one is the real you?"
There are currently two seperate scenes where Hong Lu muses on the idea of someone's identity being in some way vague or obscured.
Is Dante the person or the clock? Is the dreamer the one in the dream or the one who wakes from it? Which you is the real you? Does it even matter if that you will flutter away in the end?
This idea of there being one true self. That even if there are two, there is only one of them that is actually you. Curious, right?
Face-changing dance
During the Canto 2 scene where everyone gives their reasons for whether or not they'd be a good pick for being the one to dance, Hong Lu says this.
Bian lian is a kind of dance literally translated as "face-changing". It involves rapid changes between various masks and make-up to represent different emotions or characters.
Now, it's no secret that Hong Lu is a great actor, as we see in Canto 4, and Canto 7 shows how the comparison to theatre and actors can be used to symbolize one's performance of identity, as it does for Sancho and her Don Quixote persona.
Mind you, this reveal comes in the same scene as Sinclair's dance invoking the image of a bonfire burning all through the night according to the Mariachis, a clear foreshadowing to Canto 3 and the Literal burning down of Sinclair's home.
Hong Lu knowing bian lian could be further foreshadowing to his own skills in deception, and how he too is a sort of actor, not unlike Don Quixote. On the other hand however, it could also be a more literal foreshadowing, that he (Baoyu) Quite Literally changed his face. We won't know until Canto 8, but it is an option you know.
The HamHamPangPang dish(es)
For those who don't know, here is a list of the Sinner-themed dishes that were available at HamHamPangPang.
EDIT: THE ABOVE LIST IS SLIGHTLY INNACURATE. Hong Lu's dish is actually pepper steak (Chinese beef stir fry) and mandarin rolls, and Rodya's dish has since changed to chicken blini.
Now, chances are, not all of them have deep meanings. I don't think there's much of a deep meaning to Heathcliff and Ishmael's dishes, I think PJM just legit don't know much about British/American cuisine so they just picked something recogniseable.
However, not all of them are meaningless picks either. Ryoshu, likely a mother, has a meal literally called "parent-and-child donburi". Don Quixote, a Bloodfiend, has a garlic-based dish. These were clearly done on purpose.
So, what does it say that Hong Lu's dish is actually made up of effectively two different dishes? What does it mean for it to be the only one to be like that? And it's clear that this is one of the dishes with intent behind them like Ryoshu's, as another name for mandarin rolls is flower buns. You know. Flower. Like Daiyu.
The Daiyu-Baoyu Theory (finally)
So. I gave some evidence for why I think Hong Lu could still be Daiyu despite being revealed as Baoyu. I gave some evidence for why I think Hong Lu could be a Two in One deal, or that at the very least there's something more complex going on with his identity. But let's discuss the theory itself, how it would recontextualize certain things, and why I think it's an extremely fitting an thematically resonant direction for Hong Lu's Canto to go in.
The Theory
Here's what I speculate is going on.
Daiyu, just like in DOTRC, is someone who was taken in into the Jia Household rather than born in it, and who strongly connected with Baoyu upon meeting him. The two would end up forming a bond strong enough that they would be willing to die for one another (or, if they're in particularly argumentative moods, to kill themselves just to force the other to have to live a long life grieving over them - this is an actual argument they have in DOTRC and I pray to god this is adapted into Limbus because it's too fucking funny).
At some point, Baoyu either dies or is brought to near death, likely through the same circumstances as in DOTRC - being beaten by his Father. To save him, his memories and consciousness would be transferred to his eye, a process not dissimilar to the one Xichun brings up in Canto 7, and implanted into Daiyu's body, causing them to become a vessel for Baoyu. This would be how Hong Lu as he is now is created.
All of the above is the main basis for this theory. Everything else that I might speculate about, such as the exact nature of the two's relationship, Daiyu's more exact background and personality, how their pre-reincarnation lives could be adapted - all of those are things that are purely speculative and ones that I don't really expect to be actually fulfilled. The only bits that I am sure are likely to be true is what I laid out above.
So... what does it all mean for the future? I'm glad you asked!
The Recontextualization
Here's a collection of just a couple of things that Hong Lu has said or is depicted as that would be heavily recontextualized if this theory ends up being true.
Hong Lu surviving despite claiming he didn't fight back when his siblings first tried to kill him: With the context that he used to be two seperate people, the answer to how he survived is made very simple. Baoyu is the one who wasn't fighting back. Daiyu, however, could have still protected him in turn.
The red ribbon on Hong Lu's weapon: There is only one other Sinner who has a similar decoration on their weapon - Ryoshu, who also has a red ribbon on her sword, which could be easily connected to Yuzuki and her death. With the context of Hong Lu being Baoyu occupying Daiyu's body and thus effectively rendering their self non-existent, the red ribbon could be a parallel symbol - a symbol of Daiyu and their 'death'.
How Hong Lu treats his weapon in his base E.G.O: The way Hong Lu holds his weapon in the illustration is more like he's cradling another person. This could be a representation of how he feels about Daiyu's situation. Likewise, in the attack animation, he's not really attacking with the weapon itself, is he? He's simply using it to direct a ribbon (which in itself is missing in the illustration), the part that is actually the attack. If the weapon in the base E.G.O represents Daiyu, this could be a parallel to how Baoyu feels like he's merely directing Daiyu's body to attack, rather than being the one actually attacking.
The duality of Hong Lu IDs: There is a notable pattern among Hong Lu IDs, and that is the focus on his attitude to violence. When he's in a situation where he's obedient towards his Family, he's either uninterested in violence, bored of it, or otherwise given no other choice but to use it as a reprieve from boredom. However, when he's in a situation where he's disconnected from his Family or otherwise questioning the status quo, he's shown to not only be much more aggressive and violent, but to outright enjoy it. With the context of Hong Lu being composed of two people, this duality could represent each of his components - the obedient and violence-averse being more Baoyu-like, while the questioning and violence-favoring being more Daiyu-like.
So, there's a bunch of stuff that would be given new meaning under the premise of this theory being true. But now, what about the future? What would this theory mean for the themes and ending of Canto 8?
The Resolution
I believe this is how the Daiyu-Baoyu theory will affect Canto 8.
At some point, whether before or during the Canto, it will be revealed that Hong Lu is both Daiyu and Baoyu. There will be an attempt to seperate the two, perhaps to implant Baoyu into a more fitting, more Jia Family-approved Vessel. Perhaps because the 'arranged marriage' from DOTRC could be adapted into something more... let's say Fear and Hunger kind of marriage rather than traditional marriage.
This will leave Hong Lu to be returned to their state as Daiyu, who will be revealed to be a very different person to what the Sinners knew Hong Lu as. There is a non-zero chance that Daiyu will be unable to hear Dante or be revived by them due to the one who signed the contract being Baoyu, and so they could end up acting as an uncontrollable ally unit not unlike Xichun in Canto 7.
The climax would then be Daiyu and Baoyu reuniting and being unwilling to part with each other again, even for the sake of returning to being the fake persona that is Hong Lu, leading to a potential duo boss fight/distortion boss fight/duo distortion boss fight.
The ending would be the two of them deciding to embrace their new identity as Hong Lu and truly becoming one, discarding their pasts and the selves that had been forced on them by the Jia Family. This ending would have a twofold meaning regarding how it connects to the DOTRC adaptation.
One - it would be a direct parallel to the ending of DOTRC where Baoyu leaves to become a monk. By becoming Hong Lu and discaring his previous identities, he'd be leaving behind the earthly attachments inherent to being Baoyu and Daiyu and become spiritually whole.
Two - it would be a reflection of the major theme of DOTRC, that being "Truth becomes fiction when the fiction's true. Real becomes not-real when the unreal's real." Hong Lu, as a person, is a 'fake' persona used by the 'real' Baoyu and Daiyu. However, by discarding those two identities and deciding to just be Hong Lu, the fiction of his existence becomes the truth, while his former real selves become not real.
Conclusion?
I could honestly just keep going with this post, but I think I'm going to stop myself here before I'm forced to find out what tumblr's character limit on posts is. Believe me, I was trying to be brief, and still this post is. This fucking long.
I hope this explains why this theory has been the subject of my brainrot for the past however long, and why I feel like it's surprisingly plausible despite being as deranged as it is.
Godspeed and godbless, I have classes tomorrow and I'm spending my time on this.
#ask#anon#lu speaketh#limbus company#hong lu#hong lu lcb#jia baoyu lcb#lin daiyu lcb#lcb analysis#lcb speculation#lcb theory#canto 7 spoilers
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If you are not aware yet, Homicipher's creator, Yatsunagi, has decided to cease all updates for the game due to various reasons. Before deactivating their socials, they posted this on their Twitter. For fans who were unable to view the notice before the deactivation, I will provide a short summary of the notice (my Japanese isn't very good, so please take this with a grain of salt. This is not a direct translation of the notice itself).
I will not link the original post because the creator did not want the notice to spread.
Originally, there were plans to continue updating the game slowly with various scenes for free, further game development, and create a version for the Switch. However, due to stress, there will be no further development.
The reasons for deactivation and ceasing all updates for Homicipher were deleted because the message had left its original audience. The creator does not wish to create more stress, or for this news to be spread.
Homicipher quickly became more popular than expected. Many players did not understand that the game was simply a product of an individual's hobby, and was not a commercial company's project, leading to an inability for a greater level of development and updates. Fans that originated from the beta version faced disruptions from new fans that pirated the game and were rude in their interactions. This 'original' fanbase faced these changes within a week, and it was overwhelming.
TLDR - Homicipher quickly became popular, creating an immense amount of fans that flooded its fandom. This caused stress to longstanding fans and the creator, due to rude behaviour (including demands for game updates and piracy).
Homicipher was a game created as a hobby and did not have the production level of a corporate company, and would not have been able to be managed or further developed by the creator alone. The creator preferred for the game to gain popularity slowly.
To the fans who have played Homicipher and respected it, the creator is thankful for their support and gratitude. The creator is happy to see fanwork and encourages fans to continue creating such content.
The creator dearly loves Homicipher and the characters that they have created through the game. Without this love, they would not have been able to complete and publish the game.
After working in the character game circle for many years, the creator has deactivated their social media accounts related to game production due to a sense of rejection.
The creator thanks all players and loving fans.
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We have heights, we have voices....now we need a run down on the Siblings personality! Then the trilogy will be complete...and then I can (affectionately) release Stellar from my 6 star basement of adorableness.
HAHAHA OKAY!! I will do as you ask for the safe return of my baby girl 🙏
Void
Confident, calculating, and unnerving.
Rarely without a smile on his face.
Has the energy of an apex predator. Unflinchingly comfortable in spite of any danger, having never known what it feels like to be prey.
Strongest out of his siblings and the leader of their little trio.
Manipulative and power hungry.
His creators have no real control over him. They've created a monster.
Views life as a game and himself as the main character. Doesn't recognize other people as actual people, only as pawns for him to play with. If they don't play the game they way he likes, he breaks them.
Taller than both Sonic and Shadow. Doesn't view either of them as parents, only genetic donors.
He sees Shadow in particular as his prototype.
Only acknowledges other people as important if they have great power or something that he recognizes as stand-out.
Has never known defeat nor fear. Both of these things have the power to shatter his world view.
His siblings are afraid of him for good reason.
Who is to say what his sexuality is??? Probably power-sexual. 😂 He would only ever be attracted to someone based off of strength or what they could offer him.
Andromeda
Short-tempered, snide, and bitter.
A gloomy person over all, almost always in a perpetual state of scowling.
The emotional core of the failed experiment trio. Does her best to keep Void and Polarity from killing each other.
Deeply envious of Stellar and her happy relationship with Sonic and Shadow. Wonders why she wasn't found and whisked away to a better life.
Awful self-esteem. Knows she is unhappy with her life in Cosmic Labs, but doesn't see any way out. At least she has a place she belongs if she stays inside the box that was made for her.
Cares for both Void and Polarity, but doubts if Void returns that sentiment. She and Polarity are close, getting along well when they are alone.
Pressured by their creators to get Void to behave. Since they cannot punish him, Andromeda and Polarity are often punished in his stead.
Secretly craves love, affection, and praise. Despite this, she chooses to fight Stellar whenever they encounter one another instead of accepting her offerings of sisterhood.
If she had to pick between Void or Polarity, she'd pick Polarity.
She is a lesbian!
Polarity
Hot-headed, resentful, and explosive.
The weakest of the siblings (including Stellar) and he knows it. Only outdoes them in speed.
Has an extremely tumultuous relationship with Void. He is constantly trying to prove himself to their creators, but is outshone by his elder brother.
Despite this, he trains harder than either of his siblings, and is often covered in bandages from overworking himself.
Takes the most after Sonic despite everything, and is a fun-loving, quick-witted, and gentle person at his core. If isolated and given enough time to open up, he is actually very sweet.
Only ever confides in Andromeda, and cares about her deeply. He will often step in and take punishments in her stead.
A closeted nerd. Has a stash of old comic books that were given to him by a generous lab worker that he has read cover to cover countless times. He could quote any scene from memory.
Often speaks out against Void and his methods. Void has gotten very good a tuning him out on missions.
Lowest chaos energy reading of all Project Stellar experiments, but cannot be beat in willpower and determination. Notable for his inability to ever give up.
Has constant dark circles around his eyes from lack of sleep and stress. Rarely ever rests.
He is bisexual!
Original post with Stellar's failed lab sibs if they had survived:
#answered asks#lore dump#sibling au#fankid au#void the hedgehog#andromeda the hedgehog#polarity the hedgehog#stellar the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#sonadow#shadonic#sonadow fankid#sonadow fanchild#sth#sonic#to everyone thinking void would be a good big brother....... sorry#maybe in an au where Shadow found all four of them
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My specific read on John is not that he's a nice guy, either. It's that, like any good character (specifically a tragic character, which, TM has said that he is modeled on a mythical tragic hero, so) he has a flaw that dooms him. And what that means is, when he has the choice to change what he's doing, that flaw either prevents him from taking the option he's aware of, or prevents him from being aware that there is another option altogether.
And so as a writer, what I look for are moments where either:
something good about a character becomes an excess that harms themselves or others
we receive information that shows a persistent blind spot a character has
we look for times when a character gives their view of the world/a situation and it Does Not Match Up with reality, or is hinted that it doesn't
we look for evidence of something simmering under the surface that clashes with their outward, agreeable presentation
What fills that role for John?

Yep.
When this first pops up, it's pretty easily dismissed as yet another layer on the falsehood he's propped up. Admittedly, he's been doing it for ten thousand years, so it's probably got a few layers to it.
However:

This one, to me, gives us a hint about what John is blind to: That his friends see his vindictiveness and his failings and that they could still love him. This is where it crosses into tragedy, for me; where his own inability to forgive blinds him to the capacity that other people have for generosity--and so, to a world where "justice" means more than "vengeance for the dead".
And this illuminates the whole chain of events that leads him to that climactic scene in Harrow the Ninth, telling Mercy that she never would have forgiven him anyways:
John is, at heart, deeply angry--like most characters in the series, and like a lot of people who grew up in poverty, especially if they managed to escape it. He also has some deep sense of justice, and deep sense of judgment.
So we have this cycle of related emotions and ideas: Justice, judgment, outrage. And a human measure of selfishness, amorality, double standards, etc.
In one situation, this allows him to throw himself completely into the cryo project, something that (if it hadn't been sabotaged politically) could have made a difference to humanity. He brings in people who work to make it even better, who demonstrably want to make the outcome as just and humane as possible. It's also implied that this is part of why he received those powers; "I chose you to change."
(And, I'll be honest, one of the other things that I see that chafes me is the implication that there was nothing about John to recommend him to the Earth. I'm actually of the opinion that there was; she chose him, and I don't think she just rolled a d100 or drew a card off a tarot deck and called him up. John is also still a human, flawed person.)
Then, the situation changes. It's no longer an issue of dedicating expertise to solve a problem; this is a political issue, and specifically of rich people using their resources to shift outcomes towards the one they think will benefit them the most, that will secure their survival, explicitly at the expense of everyone else.
And their strategy is, profoundly: short-sighted and unnecessary (pooling resources would help create a better outcome for everyone, including the rich, by reducing global trauma and preserving more of the systems that already structure their world); bigoted and uninformed (many rich people think that the world has to be a certain way, generally that the world is violent, competitive, dog-eat-dog, etc., and someone has to be "on top", and there will always have to be a loser, or lots of losers); and utterly cruel, unjust, and pointless.
And John--John, who grew up poor, who grew up aware of the despair around him and the injustice of his position and more than likely made use of that anger to achieve what he had up to this point--John is so angry.
Because they're all the same. They're all the same. It's the same song, over and over again, no matter how stupid and pointless and unnecessary. He is certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it doesn't have to be this way. He passes judgment.
But John is losing to them, because he doesn't have the resources they do. He can hate them and fight them all he wants, and it doesn't matter, because he's nowhere near in the same league as they are politically.
And then, after the cryo project is cancelled, he gains his powers.
The thing about anger and judgment is that the deeper it runs, often, the more invested the person who holds that anger in themselves is in not seeing what they hate in themselves. E.g: John has conceptualized the people he's resisting as fundamentally unjust, cruel, amoral, and bigoted. There's a very good chance--to different degrees, depending on the person--that becoming aware of similar traits in himself might wake up those feelings he has towards those other people--aimed at himself (that is, cognitive dissonance). He can't see the things he's passed judgment on in himself and function. He's not like them; he's trying to fix things, to bring about justice.
Of course, there's justice as in "living in a just society", and justice as in "justice for the dead". But that's a later realization, because right now, everyone is still alive.
So John hides those parts of himself; from himself, from other people. So thoroughly he can exclude it from his consciousness and pretend it doesn't exist. He thinks no one sees the real depth of his own rage, his own cutthroat pursuit of a solution. And then, when he can't pretend it doesn't exist, he can still pretend to be the man he thinks they need him to be. He can "fool" them. He can say--he's trying. He screwed up. He doesn't know what he's doing.
And then, Casseiopeia says, No, actually, we know you, and we know you're horribly vindictive. And we're on your side--we're on the same side--our fight is your fight--and we love you. But your drive for revenge is seriously limiting your ability to imagine and create a living, just world, and that's what we're fighting for. Remember? That's what we set out to create.
And John's brain can't quite handle this; he can't imagine that they could actually see him and still be on his side. Because he couldn't see that and still be on his side. He can't forgive; he can't imagine forgiveness.
He can't see the things he's passed judgment on in himself and function.
And, by this stage, in some ways, it's already too late to change course. But this is one of several "come to Jesus" (no pun intended) moments where John could become aware of alternatives, or could change his behavior--and doesn't.
And I think this is where we get that self-awareness from, the thing that makes him creepy and tragic but also infuriating: He is aware, but apparently that's not enough to stop him from being his worst self--so is he just pretending to be moral? Capable of making different choices but choosing not to? And the weird statements he makes later:


This is, imo, not a power-hungry dictator who genuinely doesn't care about the cost of his throne, or a gleefully predatory abuser. This is a dude who's committed to a course of action and doesn't feel great about it. This is a guy who has violated his own sense of justice and has to live with it.
This is a guy who set out to save the world, killed it, and now the only thing that's left to him is to avenge it.
And like, from a mythology standpoint, that is exactly what the Erinyes are, like the Furies and Alecto. They are not the justice of Apollo or Athena. They are screaming for blood. They are hunting their quarry to the ends of the universe. They are chthonic.

Again: This isn't what Cassieopeia or Christabel said to him. This is what John has said to himself. This came from him. This is a reflection of what he believes.
And it encapsulates, exactly, why he erased their memories. Why he took away their agency.
The difference between him and many, many people is he had the power of a god and no one to check him when he was struggling with his own worst impulses. And then, he created a world where no one could, not just because then he could do what he wanted and pretend to be kind and loving and moral, but so that he would never have to lose the love of the people he needed.
Because, unfortunately, he still needed them.
It just took ten thousand years for the lie to unravel.
#the locked tomb#john gaius#tlt meta#i'm not a john gaius apologist. i just think about cognitive dissonance a lot#and frankly tumblr and twitter are the home of cognitive dissonance
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