#I nearly posted without saying what that meant lol

[prdx-invdr]

୨୧⸝⸝﹕if you call me a fool, then i’ll be a fool.

SUMMARY! you’ve been in love with park wonbin since the day the two of you met and never found the courage to tell him. why is it that you find yourself yearning to confess the moment someone else comes into the picture?

PAIRING! park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE! college!au, slice of life, fluff, angst (an attempt was made), friends to lovers, IDIOTS to lovers omg WC 8.1k

WARNING! swearing, jealousy, y/n likes wonbin an insane amount girl get up, insecurity, anton instigates like it’s his job and he’s up for a promotion, random female idol is mentioned many times (nothing against her!!), not proofread

NOTE! do u guys know what song the title is from lol.. LOL also i had another wonbin fic i wanted to post and deleted it bc it sucked so actually im posting this one as a coping mechanism

you don’t realize the way you’re staring at the back of wonbin’s head until a voice snaps you out of your trance. “do you know what you want?” shotaro asks you, waving a hand in front of your face.

currently, the two of you, along with wonbin, seunghan, and anton, are standing in line at a beverage kiosk. the latter, having already received his drink, stands to your right while shotaro stands to your left. seunghan recites his order to the employee while wonbin stands idly behind him.

“don’t even bother asking,” anton chortles, lips still wrapped around his straw. “she’s probably gonna have wonbin order for her, like always.” you lightly slap him in the arm after the words leave his mouth, eyes darting to the aforementioned boy standing merely 2 inches in front of you, hoping he hadn’t heard anton’s teasing.

“i didn’t even say anything wrong! he orders for you all the time!” the boy whines, jokingly rubbing his arm where you had hit him.

shotaro lets out a curt laugh at the interaction, knowing that anton’s words held truth to them, whether you liked to admit it or not. “it’s because she’s shy. right, y/n?” he turns to you, attempting to diffuse your embarrassment. one look at the smile on his face and anyone would be able to tell that his words were complete bullshit. the two of you knew that the real reason you liked having wonbin order for you was because you liked him.

however, for your own sake, you sigh and choose to agree with shotaro’s statement, only offering a small nod. “whatever,” anton mutters under his breath, walking over to seunghan who has his own beverage in hand.

now that you, shotaro and wonbin were the only people in line, shotaro grabs your sleeve and gently pulls you backwards, putting more distance between the two of you and the boy who was now placing his order. before shotaro says anything, you know what the topic of conversation is going to be.

“do you ever plan on telling him?” is all he inquires, his voice lowering to a whisper. you avoid his piercing gaze, instead turning to look at anton and seunghan, laughing in between sips of their respective drinks. anton is already nearly finished with his, you note.

when you’re done observing them, you shift your attention to wonbin, who has his arms crossed as he points at one of the cup sizes the kiosk has on display, indicating that it’s the one he wants.

you’re unable to see his face but you’re able to picture it better than anything. the way his lip quirks upwards in an attempt to be polite to the employee. the furrow of his brow as he asks a question.

shotaro sighs at your silence and finds it astonishing how you’re able to ogle wonbin without even looking at his face. that very sigh brings you back into reality, finally meeting the gaze of the boy currently interrogating you.

“he… doesn’t think of me that way,” you slowly tell him, as if the words would physically pain you if you uttered them too quickly. shotaro lets out a noise you can only assume was meant to be a scoff, but being passive aggressive simply doesn’t run in his blood.

“are you kiddi-“ shotaro is interrupted by wonbin holding a drink in front of your face, thus putting a barrier between the two of you. “here, y/n,” the long haired boy hums, not moving from his spot until you take the beverage filled plastic cup. if you didn’t have park wonbin tunnel vision, as shotaro likes to call it, you’d see the way anton is shaking his head and letting out a short laugh in disbelief upon witnessing the interaction. “called it,” he tells seunghan, who only blinks in confusion.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, but i remembered that time we went to that other drink place and you said you really liked the strawberry one, so i got you that,” wonbin explains, holding his own straw up to his mouth. he says it nonchalantly, as if you could either finish the drink in about 5 seconds before proclaiming how much you enjoyed it, or you could throw it to the ground and curse at him for assuming the flavor you wanted, and he wouldn’t flinch either way.

“um— yes— yeah, i..” you stutter, and shotaro swears it takes everything in him not to slap his own forehead at your sudden jumpiness. “i like it, thank you. you didn’t have to, wonbin,” you exhale, holding your drink with both hands.

“yeah, well, force of habit, you know?” the boy laughs. “since i’m always ordering for you anyway.” his words cause you to tense and you can just picture anton’s shit-eating grin after he heard what wonbin said. “right, yeah,” you nod, wanting the conversation to be over with. the 5 of you continue walking throughout the mall, seunghan complaining about what a ridiculous amount of time you had all just spent at that beverage kiosk.

“force of habit is crazy,” anton decides to tease you again, earning another slap on the arm. “stop hitting me!”

besides ordering drinks for you when you hadn’t requested for him to do so, anton has noticed that wonbin also tends to subconsciously let you get away with… a lot.

he doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he rolls his eyes when he walks into the living room and sees none other than you and wonbin, the latter seated on the carpeted floor while you’re situated on the couch behind him, playing with his hair.

“i shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters, barely audible. he’s unsure if he wanted you and wonbin to hear him, but your head snaps in his direction nonetheless. “hey, anton,” you greet him despite knowing that he’d have a lot to say about your current position. he nods his head in acknowledgement before pursing his lips. you brace yourself for whatever comment he’ll inevitably make next, morphing your lips into a straight line.

“you know,” anton starts, and you’re already holding back the urge to groan. “wonbin never lets any of us touch his hair like that.”

“right, because you guys are always so eager to play with my hair, huh?” wonbin quips sarcastically. anton shrugs, although wonbin isn’t looking at him. “so you’re saying if we wanted to, we could?” anton questions, moving across the living room to grab his phone charger, finally remembering why he had walked into the room in the first place.

“nah,” wonbin replies, “not sure why you’d want to, anyway.”

“i don’t see you questioning why y/n wants to do it,” anton insists, already making his way out of the room, pausing momentarily to hear wonbin’s response.

“she doesn’t need a reason,” his older friend says, “she’s y/n.” anton shakes his head and continues on his way. you resume treading your hand through wonbin’s hair as if nothing had happened, but unbeknownst to the boy sitting in front of you, your heart rate had increased at his words.

“he’s just jealous,” wonbin jokes. you only let out a short laugh in response. you wonder how he would react if you informed him that anton had actually sprung up that conversation because he knows about your tremendous crush on the raven haired boy.

“do you think you’d ever go blonde?” you inquire, changing the subject. he lets out a snort and tilts his head to look back at you. you’re grinning, trying to ignore the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“i don’t think the world is ready for that,” he laughs.

“what are we laughing about in here?” a voice sings from the door way, ripping your attention away from wonbin. you turn to the perpetrator and lock eyes with sungchan, who sends you a smile. you wave at him and he takes it as an invitation to sit himself down on the couch beside you.

“nothing much,” wonbin answers. your hands finally retreat from his hair and you miss the way his shoulders slump in response.

“right,” sungchan nods, turning his attention to whatever you and wonbin are watching on tv. in actuality, neither you nor him have been paying the television any mind for at least an hour, and only now do you realize that some sort of ocean documentary has been playing this whole time.

a few minutes of silence proceed before sungchan clasps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling you.

“man, this has been boring,” he announces, eyes darting between the two of you, seated in the same positions as when he first entered the room. “do you guys even talk?”

“we were, actually, before you walked in,” wonbin mutters, not meaning for his words to come out as sourly as they do. sungchan raises his hands in the air in defense. “hey, my bad. i didn’t realize the two of you were having an ocean documentary date,” he retorts.

“we’re not having-“ you’re about to correct him, only for him to cut you off.

“but, you know, bin,” he says, “i’m not sure how sangah would feel about you having a movie date with another girl.”

you feel like your entire world freezes over the moment you hear those words leave sungchan’s mouth. you quickly rid your face of your crestfallen expression, not wanting to give yourself away.

“who?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, and sungchan just stares at you. wonbin waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head in annoyance. “shut up, dude.”

“wait, y/n doesn’t know about sangah?” sungchan asks, a genuinely confused look crossing over his features. “i thought you guys told each other everything.”

wonbin groans in irritation. “i haven’t told anyone, actually, because it doesn’t matter. you only know because you’re nosy as fuck.”

sungchan chuckles, and you would attempt to let out a halfhearted laugh if you didn’t feel like your chest was aching. you lick your lips and stare questioningly at the side of wonbin’s head.

“look, bro,” sungchan gestures towards you, causing wonbin to turn around and meet your disheartened eyes. his face drops slightly, and you’re not in the correct headspace to try and pinpoint why. “she’s upset because you didn’t tell her!” his friend chimes.

wonbin shakes his head, still looking at you. “she’s just some girl,” he huffs. “i don’t even know her that well.”

you scoff before plastering a wobbly smile onto your face. “i’m not upset,” your voice quivers and you hope that wonbin doesn’t notice it. you’re not sure why he decides to reassure you about sangah— whoever that is— but you pray that it’s not because he’s known about your pathetic crush on him all this time and is now feeling bad for you because he’s currently seeing someone.

of course, only your cruel mind could formulate such a sickening thought.

“i’m just.. surprised,” you conclude with an unconvincing nod. wonbin closes his eyes in annoyance, and you know it’s because of his intrusive friend standing in the doorway. “sungchan, just stop spreading shit around, alright?” he gives him a tired look, finally getting up from the floor. as wonbin makes his way past sungchan in the doorway, the taller boy gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. with wonbin having left the room, you find yourself looking to sungchan with urgency.

“who is sangah?” you plead, trying to keep your emotions at bay. the boy furrows his eyebrows, confusion settling into his features once more. “why do you care, y/n?” he asks. you know that his question doesn’t come from a place of mockery, but rather genuine interest. it hits you in that moment that sungchan, as smart as he is, happens to be absolutely terrible at taking a hint.

somehow, when it came to the long lasting feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends, sungchan was none the wiser. you surmise that he wouldn’t have teased wonbin so openly about another girl had he known about your feelings for the long haired boy.

that, you suppose, you can’t really blame him for.

“um,” you start, “he’s one of my closest friends.” your words are spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “i’m just curious, you know?” the lie comes out easier than you think it should’ve.

sungchan hums, crossing his arms and giving you a curt nod. “just some girl,” sungchan tells you, repeating wonbin’s words from a few minutes ago. “yoon sangah. she’s in our music fundamentals class. like, 2 days ago, i think, she wrote her instagram handle on a slip of paper and gave it to wonbin right in front of me.” your face falls for what seems like the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. you can only offer the tall boy a nearly inaudible hum in response.

“do you think it’ll lead to anything? you know, between her and wonbin?” again, you can’t stop yourself from asking. you feel sick at the thought of playing into the role of ‘jealous, overthinking girlfriend’, and even sicker at the fact that you and wonbin aren’t even dating. what right do you have to be inquisitive about his love life?

still, you can’t help it. when sungchan takes a bit longer to respond to your question you fear you’re treading on dangerous territory, afraid that even the dense boy you’re conversing with may have cracked the code. the grin that he aims at you a few seconds later serves as reassurance that, no, he still doesn’t know anything.

“that’s a good question, y/n dearest,” he pats your shoulder lightly. “i guess only time will tell.”

you hate yourself for what you’re doing right now.

looking back on the conversation you had with sungchan hours prior to this moment, you recalled him mentioning that sangah had given wonbin her instagram. thus, like any normal person would do in your situation, you took it upon yourself to go through wonbin’s following list in an attempt to find her.

you scroll past your own account, past the accounts of your mutual friends, and a few people who you presume are some of wonbin’s classmates.

when you finally stumble across sangah’s account, your body fills with dread before you even see a proper photo of her.

judging by her profile picture alone, you can tell that she’s pretty. you’re fully looking at her profile now, and your frown only deepens. she’s beautiful.

you shake your head as if it would help ease your racing mind. she’s beautiful, yes, you think, but looks aren’t everything. you find yourself childishly crossing your fingers that sangah had the personality of an evil witch, so that even if wonbin fell victim to her physical charm, he’d be pushed away by her true nature.

you let out a quiet scoff. you can’t believe you’re sitting here thinking badly about another girl just because she might have a crush on the same man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him. in the same sense, you can’t believe that when you say that sentence out loud, it actually sounds a bit reasonable. you blame sungchan, for a moment, drawing the inference that you wouldn’t feel so insecure right now if it hadn’t been for his previous teasing.

you can’t stop yourself when you click on one of sangah’s posts. she doesn’t have many, but the few that she has have seemed to gather thousands of likes. despite this, you take note of the fact that wonbin doesn’t have any of them liked— thank god, you think to yourself. you start to analyze her photos, the faces she makes at the camera, the outfits she wears, the way her hair is styled. when studying her facial expressions, you wonder if she’s made those same faces while looking at wonbin. when taking her outfits into consideration, you wonder if wonbin has seen her wearing any of them and thought she looked particularly nice. whilst examining her hair, you resist the urge to rip out your own. it’s perfect. she’s perfect.

she’s perfect, and from what you can tell, you aren’t anything like her. so what does that make you?

you move to close the app, feeling filled to the brim with self doubt when you suddenly freeze as your phone vibrates. you hesitantly open your dms and your eyes widen as they fall upon the newest message.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: why are u awake

your heart races and you momentarily contemplate if wonbin had somehow set up a security camera in your bedroom without your knowledge because how on earth did he know?

you don’t ponder on the matter for long, the aforementioned boy sending another message merely a few seconds later.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: u have ur activity status turned on btw

exhaling a breath of relief, you type a response to him.

[3:03 AM] you: why are U awake park wonbin

[3:03 AM] 1bin_02: i just woke up like 5 minutes ago. my y/n senses were tingling and my unconscious body felt a disturbance

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: kiddinggg

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: but fr why are u awake

you hold your breath as you type out your next response, choosing to be daring. you decide that, even if it’s only for a few seconds, you’re no longer going to be a coward.

[3:06 AM] you: i was thinking about u

[3:06 AM] 1bin_02: ditto

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: i know im amazing and everything but don’t let me stop u from getting ur beauty rest 🙄 jk

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: gn dummy

you decide against saying anything else, shutting off your phone with a sigh. you are a dummy, you think, and the boy who had just given you that title has no idea that it’s all because of him.

you’re exhausted the next day, concluding that being awake at 3 in the morning despite knowing that you had a class at 8AM was not the best idea.

wonbin is quick to take note of this, poking you on your side as the two of you follow your usual route to your next lecture of the day. “i bet someone regrets staying up until 3AM, hm?” he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as you swat his hand away. “like you weren’t up at 3AM, too,” you mutter. he clicks his tongue in response. “that was only for a few minutes,” he says, “who knows how long you were awake for, though.”

before you’re forced to dignify wonbin with a response, anton and seunghan walk up to the two of you, the latter offering a wave while the former only smiles.

“where are we headed, guys?” seunghan asks, throwing an arm around wonbin. the boy attempts to shrug him off to no avail. “anton and i wanted to go get drinks and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come with,” he grins before quietly adding, “and maybe also pay for them.”

you laugh and wonbin turns to you upon hearing it, letting out a playful scoff of his own. “can’t, y/n has class in 10 minutes or so,” he turns to the two boys who now have their eyebrows raised in apprehension. “that’s where we were headed,” he finishes.

“and you’re walking her there,” anton nods, his words posing as more of a statement than a question. you can only dramatically roll your eyes. wonbin doesn’t seem to pick up any undertones, only nodding in response. “i might be able to tag along afterwards, though. no promises.”

“well, anton,” seunghan sighs, turning to his friend, “we’ll just have to take shotaro inste-“

the boy is cut off by the sound of a girlish voice calling out wonbin’s name. all 4 of you turn around in unison, and you feel like your heart has physically sunken into the floor. sangah.

wonbin’s at a loss for words for a moment and you want to run away more than anything. you’re not prepared to see the two of them interact, especially after looking at her instagram page last night. “hey, sangah,” is all he says, a smile plastered on his face that pains you to look at.

the girl is practically beaming. “what are you up to?” she grins, her eyes not daring to look anywhere but him. his eyes flicker to you momentarily, who is struggling to breathe.

“i’m walking her—” he gestures to you and sangah finally looks away from him, eyes now trained on yours, “to class. well, i was, before these two showed up.” wonbin waves a hand in anton and seunghan’s direction, the two boys adorning matching confused expressions on their faces. nobody moves a muscle for a few seconds and you’re afraid that your rapid heartbeat can be heard atop of the pin-drop silence.

“oh! my bad,” wonbin clears his throat, “guys, this is sangah,” he gestures towards the girl, “sangah, this is… guys.” he gestures towards his friends. “and y/n,” he gestures towards you for the second time, giving you a tap on the shoulder for good measure. sangah’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she reaches out to shake your hand. you’re positive that if it weren’t for the freezing hallways of your university, your hands would be sweating, so you silently thank whoever’s in charge of the ac for seemingly always having it cranked up to the max. you and the girl shake hands, her smile noticably brighter than yours.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” she says. “you, too,” is all you’re able to respond with, smile tight.

“nice to meet you guys, too,” she waves at anton and seunghan with both hands and they wave back, offering their own respective greetings in return. awkward.

you cough, attempting to break the silence. “this has been fun,” you press your lips together for a second, “but i’ve gotta get to class. hope you guys have fun at that drink place later, or whatever,” you trail off, the last part of your sentence aimed towards anton and seunghan. “and it was nice meeting you, again,” you add, making eye contact with sangah. she smiles. you don’t say anything to wonbin as you attempt to squeeze past him, but he grabs your arm. “i’m walking with you, remember?” he says. you resist the urge to look at sangah or anyone else in your vicinity for that matter, surprised at his words. this random girl who’s obviously into him is standing only a few inches away and wonbin still insists on walking you to class.

“it’s okay,” you shake your head, unsure. wonbin can tell that you’re beginning to feel upset and he desperately wishes that sangah and even seunghan and anton were anywhere but here. “y/n-“ he starts, you cut him off. “it’s fine, wonbin,” you reaffirm. it isn’t, though.

you begin to walk in the direction of your class and release a breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. deep down, you wanted wonbin to disregard your words and resume walking with you, leaving sangah and his friends standing in the hallway. but wonbin was too polite for that, and you couldn’t even turn around to see if he had continued to engage in conversation with the 3 of them because you felt tears forming in your eyes. stupid, stupid, stupid, you think to yourself.

unbeknownst to you, sangah was able to sense the tension in the atmosphere before anyone had even said anything to her. she kisses her teeth, scratching the side of her head. “i should probably go, too,” she tells wonbin. the boy can tell that she would’ve liked to talk more, but he wasn’t looking to become friends or even acquaintances with her. doing that would only give her the wrong idea, and he didn’t want to have any bad blood with someone he’d be forced to see nearly everyday in class. the boy nods in understanding, giving her a wave. “nice.. talking to you,” he bids her farewell, unsure of what to say, because whatever had just transpired definitely did not qualify as a conversation. the girl waves back with an unwavering smile, walking in the opposite direction you had gone.

“oh, man,” seunghan lets out a laugh he had been holding in, “that was the worst. please don’t ever put me through anything like that again.” anton silently agrees, cringing.

“is it just me,” wonbin starts, ignoring his friend’s remark, “or did y/n seem kind of upset before she left?”

anton stretches his arms slightly, eyes looking anywhere but at his dark haired friend. “wonder why that might be,” he muses under his breath, but wonbin catches it. “what do you mean?” he pushes, looking his younger friend in the eye. anton puts his hands in the air in mock surrender.

“anton, what the hell do you mean?” wonbin asks again, voice tinged with annoyance. anton shakes his head, “figure it out.”

seunghan watches his friends go back and forth, a bit confused himself. much like sungchan, he seems to be completely oblivious when it comes to the way you feel about wonbin.

you’re currently sitting in class wondering why you even bothered to show up.

you knew before you even sat down that you wouldn’t be able to process a single word of the lecture, your mind thinking over your first official encounter with sangah.

ever since last night, you’ve started to dread moments like these— none of your friends being around to distract you, leaving you alone with your own miserable thoughts. it feels as though each minuscule moment of silence is filled with your insecurities being pushed to the forefront of your mind.

what did they talk about after you had left? did seunghan and anton decide to leave shortly after, leaving wonbin and sangah alone? did they grow closer in the small amount of time they were left together? even worse, what if the amount of time they spent together wasn’t small at all? oh god, what if they’re still together right now?

had anton, seunghan or, worst of all, wonbin decided to invite sangah to their aforementioned drink hangout? your mind drifts to the image of wonbin ordering a drink for sangah, the same way he always does for you, and you feel like bursting into tears similarly to the way you had almost done so on your way to class.

and sangah— god, you wanted to hate her so bad. your prayers that she had the personality of a wicked witch were thrown out the window the second she opened her mouth. she was so nice to you. the guy that she likes had openly expressed that he wanted to walk you to class and she still smiled at you. she’s got the most perfect appearance and most perfect attitude and you feel like you can’t compete with any of it.

you check your phone for the first time in approximately 30 minutes, eager for a distraction. you’re dismayed to see only 3 notifications, one from the boy who seems the root of every current problem in your life, and two from sungchan.

[10:04 AM] bin 🫶: everything ok??

[10:16 AM] sungchani: hey

[10:16 AM] sungchani: we’re all gonna hang out on friday night (as decided by me just now) and u will be coming! (also decided by me just now)

you open your phone, typing a quick response to wonbin about how everything is fine (lie) and sending another short message in hopes of steering the conversation in a different direction. you open the two messages from sungchan, shaking your head as if he’d be able to sense your attitude through the screen.

[10:48 AM] you: who’s “we” exactly…. and what will “we” be doing

[10:50 AM] sungchani: don’t act dumb girl… me, you, taro, seunghan, anton and wonbin obviously. was gonna see if eunseok and sohee could make it but i doubt eunseok would wanna and i think sohee’s doing some group assignment lolol

[10:51 AM] sungchani: as for your other question i was thinking about going to the movies yay or nay? (say yay)

[10:51 AM] you: pass

[10:52 AM] sungchani: perfect see u there!

you don’t bother responding to sungchan’s final message, knowing that no amount of opposition from you would deter him. he’d probably drag you all the way to the theater himself if he had to. but you really don’t want to go, feeling drained from the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since sungchan mentioned sangah for the first time. you’d much rather spent your friday night in bed, trying to give your brain a much needed break. maybe if you really felt like torturing yourself, you’d pull up sangah’s instagram once more.

when class ends, you’re shocked to find anton waiting for you outside of the lecture hall. he’s holding a plastic cup filled with chai tea, leaning against the wall leisurely as he sips through an orange straw. he doesn’t look in your direction, which confuses you, because you’re undoubtedly the reason he’s currently standing outside of your classroom.

“lee anto-“ the boy in question cuts you off by lifting his index finger in front of your face, still not looking at you. you scoff in irritation, not wanting to deal with his antics in your current state.

“you’re coming on friday, yes?” he questions, his voice slightly above a whisper. “not if i don’t have to,” you say, your voice at a normal volume. anton, finally looking you in the eyes, presses his index finger to his lips as if to indicate that you need to be quieter. “you do have to,” he nods.

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “why the hell are you whispering?” you scowl, and he keeps his index finger on his lips. you groan before reluctantly lowering your voice to match his, despite the fact that you still don’t know why he wants you to do so. “what’s going on?” you inquire.

“you have to come on friday,” he repeats quietly, “and you’re gonna tell dark star that you’re in love with him.”

you blink. “who?” anton leans his head back in annoyance before mouthing, “PARK WONBIN.” you recoil for a myriad of reasons. “first of all, i’m not coming on friday,” your voice slightly increases in volume, “and even if i was, i most definitely would not use it as an opportunity to confess to wonbin. and why in the world did you just call him that?” you finish, exasperated.

anton only sips his drink, his aura calm and collected. “you’re going,” he answers pointedly, “because if you don’t, dark star is gonna find out either way.”

your eyes widen and you feel like all of the air has left your lungs. “what do you mean by that? you wouldn’t actually-“

“i would, though. if telling dark star about your crush on him would get you to stop pining after him like a fool, why wouldn’t i? and, in addition,” anton fully turns to you, his voice raising to a light mumble, “i saw the way you reacted when sarah started talking to him earlier.”

“it’s sangah,” you deadpan. anton waves his hand dismissively. “not the point. with the way you acted earlier, you would’ve thought they were getting married right in the middle of that hallway,” he sounds concerned as he speaks the words, not looking anywhere but at you.

“i’m not saying that wonbin— dark star, i mean, has a thing for sandra right now. frankly, i don’t think he cares about her at all,” anton continues, “but if you’re that worried about some random girl taking him away from you when they’ve known each other for like, a week, i think that’s a sign that it might be a good idea to tell him how you’re feeling.”

you look down, letting his words settle into your mind. “i’ll come on friday,” you nod, and the boy in front of you smiles at your words, “but i have to give the whole confessing to wonbin thing a bit more thought. i mean, it’s kind of sudden.” anton’s advice actually made sense, you think, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to tell the boy you’ve been harboring feelings for all this time that you’re in love with him on a random friday night.

“sudden?” anton asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “i think it’s long overdue. fire tornado hector thinks so, too,” he tells you.

you turn to him, dumbfounded. “where the hell are you getting these names from?!”

friday night comes in the blink of an eye and you’re standing in the lobby of the theater with shotaro, anton, seunghan, and sungchan. wonbin is nowhere to be seen.

“i told him 7PM sharp,” sungchan murmurs impatiently, checking his watch. shotaro turns to anton, jokingly hitting the younger boy on the arm with a laugh. “imagine he just decided to stay home,” he chuckles, “i bet y/n would be relieved.”

“why would she be relieved?” seunghan intrudes curiously. anton shrugs. “i told her she had to confess to wonbin tonight,” he says casually, as if he hadn’t just revealed your not-so-secret secret to an unsuspecting seunghan. the older boy’s eyebrows raise at anton’s words, his lips parting.

“you like wonbin?” he questions you eagerly. “dude, i can’t believe you didn’t know by now,” anton answers in your place as you press your lips together. “and we won’t be using the name wonbin when he arrives. he’s dark star. the codename helps when you’re trying to be discreet,” he finishes.

“yeah, because you know all about being discreet, right?” you reply, voice laced with sarcasm. anton knows that you’re referring to the way he had exposed your feelings for wonbin merely 30 seconds ago, avoiding your gaze as he whistles idly.

“sorry i’m late, guys,” the man of the hour exhales as he walks up to the 5 of you. sungchan studies wonbin, unimpressed. the latter can sense his older friend’s agitation, clicking his tongue. “you’ll forgive me once you find out why i’m late,” he assures, “look who i brought with me.”

you can’t prevent the way your heartbeat escalates, both at the mere presence of wonbin and the words that have just left his mouth. you’re unsure if you even want to find out who he’s brought with him, fearing the worst.

“sohee! eunseok!” you hear sungchan exclaim, excitedly making his way over to the two figures that have just entered the theater. he wraps his lengthy arms around both of them simultaneously.

“guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” eunseok muses, returning his friend’s embrace. the three of them return to where you and the others are standing and sungchan scratches the back of his neck. “my bad, man,” he utters bashfully, “the movie we’re watching is pretty lame. didn’t think you’d be into it.”

“still, it’s an excuse to see you guys,” eunseok shrugs, turning to greet everyone else. sohee does the same, wrapping his arms around you before anyone else.

“y/n! it’s been forever,” he grins, you return it. “it’s been… 2 weeks,” you tell him, hugging him back nonetheless. “i still missed you, though,” you hum. “stop hogging him, y/n!” seunghan teases, “we haven’t seen him in weeks either!”

the two of you release each other, and when you turn, wonbin is at your side. he taps your arm. “why don’t you greet me like that?” he feigns jealousy, pursing his lips. you smile at him, hoping to mask your nervousness, “i see you everyday.”

he rolls his eyes. “that doesn’t mean you can’t miss me.”

“i always do,” you say absentmindedly. by the time your words register, wonbin is already grinning. “ditto,” he mutters, his words meant for only you to hear.

he turns away before you can comment, and eunseok takes his place beside you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, greeting you. you think nothing of his actions before he leans down, angling his head so that it’s directly next to your ear. “i heard about healing michael’s plan,” he whispers, “the one about getting you to confess to dark star.”

“please don’t start this,” you plead, “i cannot deal with these nicknames right now. and how do you know about that?”

“um,” he starts, moving his head away from yours, “obviously healing michael filled me in on everything. just because we don’t physically see each other everyday doesn’t mean we don’t have a group chat.” he moves back to the previous topic, “he threatened to tell dark star about how you’re madly in love with him, right? he’s bluffing,” eunseok explains, “if you confess to dark star tonight, it should be because you really love him. not because anton frightened you into doing it.”

you nod at eunseok’s words, unsure. “and,” he continues, “it shouldn’t be about some other girl that might like him, either.” he takes note of the way your eyes widen a fraction. “yeah, anton told me about that, too,” he nods as you make a mental reminder to yell at anton later for airing out your business.

“what i’m saying, y/n, is make sure that you’re telling him how you feel, not for anyone else, but for you. well, and for him. and for you and him, together,” eunseok concludes, “don’t let healing michael or sandy get in the way of it.”

“it’s sangah,” you sigh, in awe of the fact that you’ve had to correct both him and anton. sungchan appears to have heard your final words, perking up at the mention of wonbin’s classmate.

“sangah? we’re talking about sangah?” he blurts out, turning to wonbin with a smile. “bro, we totally should’ve invited her,” he jokes, slapping his friend on the arm, “seeing her and wonbin interact in the theater would’ve been hilarious.” everyone grows tense at sungchan’s teasing— he was somehow still the only one unaware of your feelings for wonbin.

wonbin only shakes his head in response, his first instinct being to look over at you. you’re wearing that same disheartened look on your face as the first time you found out about sangah, and he can hardly breathe. his eyes narrow at the sight of eunseok’s arm still hanging off your shoulders.

“sungchan, when does the movie start? we’ve been standing here for a while,” shotaro states, attempting to alleviate the situation. “oh, we still have about,” sungchan checks the time on his watch, “ten minutes before the trailers even start playing,” he responds.

shotaro ushers the group over to the concession counter, quickly making some excuse about everyone needing to choose their snacks for the movie. “amateurs,” sungchan mutters, “who doesn’t bring their own snacks to the movies?”

wonbin finds his place beside you again, briefly studying your features. he notices the way you stand stiffly in your spot and the slight wrinkle between your brows. “hey,” he tries to get your attention. your eyes soften as they meet his that are flooded with worry. “i’m sorry,” he frowns, “about what happened back there. i don’t know why he keeps mentioning her.”

you’re puzzled and, yet again, asking yourself if he’s apologizing because he knows that you have feelings for him or if it’s because he still thinks you’re upset that he didn’t tell you about sangah sooner.

you prayed that he wasn’t apologizing due to the former, but why would he even need to apologize if it was the latter? if nothing was going on between wonbin and sangah, he had no reason to tell you about her. you press your lips into a tight line. maybe that was it— something was going on between them. that’s why he’s saying sorry to you right now, because he regrets not telling you before when you’re supposed to be one of his closest friends.

and that’s all you’ll ever be to him, because you were too much of a coward to confess to him when you had the chance. you think about how disappointed your friends are going to be once you break the news to them that you wouldn’t be confessing to wonbin tonight, or ever.

“don’t apologize, wonbin,” you quietly tell him, and he wonders why it seems as though you’re about to cry. he shakes his head, getting the sense that you misunderstood his words. he looks back at your mutual friend group, seeing that they’re all preoccupied. wonbin seizes the opportunity, grabbing your hand and taking you to a secluded area of the theater.

“please don’t tell me not to apologize,” he breathes, “because i have so much to apologize to you for.”

you’re confused and concerned, your lips parting slightly. you don’t have the chance to savor the feeling of wonbin’s hand still holding yours because you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever words he’s about to say. this is it, you tell yourself. you stare at the ground, anticipating the feeling of disappointment and rejection.

“i like you so much.”

you stop breathing as the words leave wonbin’s mouth. you’re terrified to look up, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly. he responds to your unvoiced worries by repeating the statement.

“i like you so much, and i’m sorry for holding it in this long,” he says breathlessly, “i’m sorry for letting sungchan talk about sangah all the time, because i didn’t want you to think that i could ever like anyone else.”

he continues despite your silence. “and i’m sorry for telling you all of this in a movie theater, of all places. i’ve been psyching myself up for weeks, but i couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing any longer. i’m tired of misunderstandings.”

he finally takes a deep breath, and you look up at him for the first time. “are you serious?” is all you’re able to say. you want to be 100% sure that your mind isn’t being as cruel as it normally is when it comes to park wonbin.

he nods, appearing to be just as nervous as you are, and you think that’s good enough of an indicator that he’s not joking.

“you fool,” you breath out in utter disbelief, not knowing if your words are directed at wonbin or yourself. the boy looks troubled for a moment before he hears a noise similar to a sob leave your mouth.

you hide your face with your hands. “i was supposed to be the one to confess to you.”

it’s wonbin’s turn to be silent now, listening to you rant. “it was this whole thing— healing michael, dark star.. eunseok knew about it, and shotaro..” you trail off. your words don’t even make sense to yourself, and you doubt they make any sense to the boy in front of you. “my god, wonbin— i’ve liked you since the day i met you!” you cry, hands still obstructing your vision.

wonbin hesitantly takes it upon himself to grab your wrists, removing your hands from your face. “do you mean that?” he asks, trying to meet your gaze.

you don’t look him in the eye as you continue rambling. “i was so scared,” you tell him, “sungchan mentioned her out of nowhere that day and i was so scared. i thought she was your secret girlfriend, or something.” you feel stupid for telling him all of this, finally admitting to your jealousy.

“when i saw her for the first time, i thought it was over,” you shake your head, “someone so pretty having a crush on you? i felt like nothing next to her. sungchan even told me that she wrote down her instagram and casually handed it to you— i’d kill to be that confident in myself,” you’re not even paying attention to the words leaving your mouth anymore, wanting to get everything you’ve been holding in out of your system.

when you finally look at wonbin’s face, he looks sad, which startles you. you’re afraid that you’ve just killed his mood with your venting. “i’m sorry— i didn’t me-“ you’re interrupted by wonbin pulling you to his chest, shaking his head at your words. “you fool,” he repeats your words from minutes ago. “i can’t believe you’ve been feeling that way about yourself.”

he keeps you in his embrace as if you’d run away if he were to let go. “i can’t think of anyone prettier than you,” he mutters, “or nicer, or funnier. or anything, really, because i think of you more than anyone else. i guess it’s my fault, kind of. i could’ve expressed it in ways other than walking you to class and ordering dumb overpriced drinks for you.” you let out a quiet laugh at his last sentence and he smiles, pulling away slightly so he’s able to see your face.

“i guess we’re both kind of stupid,” you conclude, earning a nod from the dark haired boy. “only when it comes to you,” he says, “i happen to think i’m very intelligent on every other occasion.”

when you finally regroup with everyone, they’re all wearing looks of disappointment on their faces. upon asking what happened, eunseok shoves a thumb in sungchan’s direction, the brown haired boy adorning a sheepish expression. “this fucker got the time wrong. the movie was at 6:15, not 7:15,” eunseok grimaces, “i better get a refund for my ticket.”

“you didn’t even pay for it,” wonbin says, “i did. sohee’s, too.”

anton, having been the first one to notice both yours and wonbin’s disappearance from the group, narrows his eyes at the boy. “and where were you?” he raises a brow, attempting to look intimidating. wonbin dismisses him with the wave of a hand.

before you and wonbin decided to rejoin your friends, you had to tell him not to hold your hand, much to his dismay. only after discovering the reason why, did he reluctantly agree.

you stand as far away from wonbin as possible, putting on a melancholy act. shotaro is the first to take notice of this, putting a hand on your shoulder. “did you tell him?” he questions, your silence serving as an answer in itself. eunseok overhears, looking at you with pity in his eyes.

when anton finally sees the distance put between you and wonbin, he concludes that you weren’t able to tell him about your feelings. he sighs, shaking his head.

as if on cue, you look at wonbin with determination burning in your eyes, beginning to advance towards him. the group is silent as they watch the two of you curiously.

“dark star,” you begin straightforwardly, “i’m in love with you.” wonbin tries concealing his laughter as he swiftly takes in the reactions of his friends. eunseok smiles knowingly while anton and shotaro are wide-eyed. seunghan wears an amused expression, sohee’s eyebrows are raised, and on top of it all, sungchan looks incredibly confused.

wonbin, keeping up the act, covers his mouth in mock astonishment. “did you guys hear that?” he turns to his friends, who are now all aware that they’re being pranked. “my girlfriend is in love with me!” wonbin beams, “metal blaze, i accept your confession.”

eunseok clicks his tongue, nodding. “metal blaze, that’s a good one,” he notes under his breath.

“alright, we get it,” anton groans, “it took you guys long enough.” he turns to you, unable to stop a smile from forming. “i hope you know i was never actually going to tell him myself. i only said that in hopes of scaring you into telling him.”

you nod, “eunseok told me that already. and it wasn’t me that confessed to wonbin— he confessed to me.” everyone is shocked at your comment, seunghan walking behind wonbin and giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. you purposefully skip over the fact that you all but cried to wonbin immediately after said confession about how much you liked him in return, and he pinches your side.

“you know, when you guys disappeared, i made a bet with shotaro that you guys were probably making out somewhere,” eunseok adds, “he said you guys were probably just in the middle of the whole confessing thing. i owe him seven bucks now.” shotaro pats him on the back with false sympathy.

as the topic of conversation shifts to something else, sungchan’s jaw is still practically on the floor. he looks at the way wonbin has his arm around your shoulders, head practically buried in your neck. he can’t stop himself from blurting out his next words.

“has y/n had a crush on wonbin this entire time?!”

AUTHOR’S NOTE! congrats to u if u survived reading all that ohhh lord i promise i’ll make y/n less unbearable next time but for now u guys are just gonna have to find it in ur hearts to forgive me… also it’s 5am rn and idk if i hate this fic umm we’ll see if i regret posting this when i wake up tmr

[a-hazbin-reader]

love the chaotic-ness of platonic alastor and reader of your posts!! the way you write him is more canon compliant but that makes it even more GREAT. can i req platonic alastor (+maybe rosie as a trio?) with overlord!reader. they just talk shit about the Vees and stuff lmao and do it openly on his radio show. hang out at rosie’s. maybe alastor gets reader to support the hotel too and everyone’s to alastor is like THEM?? You know THEM??? alastor’s like yeah lol we blow stuff up every tuesday and broadcast it where you at

OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST-

Alastor X Reader X Rosie Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Alastor and Rosie cannibalism

Description: 👆⬆️

The three of you are very busy demons who have demanding jobs so getting together doesn't happen as often as you'd like

But when you get together??? It's almost like you're all a bunch of gossiping old women instead of powerful deadly overlords

Rosie brings the snacks(bring your own if you don't want people meat), Alastor provides the venue, and you pick the topic of discussion

The first podcast was entirely an accident, Alastor forgetting he was on air when you and Rosie suddenly burst in

ALASTOR YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED

He gets so sucked into what you're saying that he forgets about his radio show and everything the three of you are saying is being broadcast live

But a lot of people are tuning into it??? Like everyone is so entertained by the three of you and your conversation

Once you three realize what happened then you all agree that this must become a weekly occurrence

Even the other overlords listen in on it every once in a while, finding it hilarious

Vox is absolutely livid because he's being IGNORED, why is nobody watching tv anymore???

He tries to get you and Rosie on his show instead but the two of you don't even take the offer seriously

The chemistry would be all off without Alastor's sparkling humor anyways

Which makes him throw a huge tantrum that becomes the next topic between the three of you

Y'all are just trashing this man at this point

It's his own fault for providing you three with so much ammo

But nobody is safe

It's just a fun little gossip podcast that somehow blows up and turns into this gigantic thing

But it gives you three an excuse to hang out

Whenever the conversation starts to drift towards the hotel you try to stay out of it for your own reasons

And it does always go back to the hotel, Alastor is running a business afterall

Alastor slowly starts to warm you up to the idea of his hotel, whatever your motivations are or if you believe in it

Rosie also encourages you to at least humor him and go see it

Easy for you say, he's not pressuring YOU

So you give in one day, accompanying Alastor to the hotel

Huh, Alastor wasn't joking when he said that Lucifer's daughter was his partner 🤔

You're not entirely surprised when you see the shocked looks everyone gives Alastor when they see you

WTF ALASTOR WHEN YOU SAID Y/N WAS COMING I DIDN'T THINK YOU MEANT Y/N THE OVERLORD

Who else would it have been, Vaggie???

Everyone nervously watches you and Alastor interact, it's two extremely powerful beings in one hotel

Except for Niffty, she greats you like an old friend, climbing all over you and making maniacal noises

Husk and Niffty are the only ones not surprised by your friendship, knowing that you and Alastor are good friends

They fill the others in on your relationship when they think you two aren't listening

It's almost funny hearing it come from someone else, you had nearly forgotten how you two met

"That's right..! I DID try to kill you! That's so funny!"

"Isn't it? And I do believe I nearly bit your hand clean off!"

You two are fucking deranged

You have a better understanding of why Alastor wants so much support for this hotel now

And you're a little surprised that Charlie seems to believe so genuinely in the idea of redeeming a soul

Regardless of if you're sold in the idea or not, you agree to support the hotel for Alastor

But now you're going to rope Rosie in with you too, if you're gonna go down then the three of you are going down together

But that's unlikely to happen, Alastor wouldn't lead you guys into a death trap

He's never steered you wrong before

This was so fun to write!!

[sanguineterrain]

im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!

thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3

jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.

read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Go home."

"Bruce, I—"

Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.

The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.

"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."

You take a step back at his coldness.

"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"

"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."

But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.

He'd felt safe.

"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."

That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.

"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."

"But if you would just listen—"

"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."

"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.

"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."

You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.

You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.

You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.

****

It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.

In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.

But not at the expense of civilian lives.

"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."

You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.

You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.

You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.

The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.

You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.

You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.

Oh, of all the fucking—

"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.

"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"

You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.

And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.

"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"

Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"

A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"

Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."

He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.

"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."

He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"

Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.

But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.

He was in the factory to help.

Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.

Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.

You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."

"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."

"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"

You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.

But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.

Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.

You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.

You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.

You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.

That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.

Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.

Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.

"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.

"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"

"She was unconscious, J'y..."

Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.

****

You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.

For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.

Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.

So who's cooking?

You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.

Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.

The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.

The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.

He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.

The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.

You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.

He catches it without turning.

Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.

A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.

"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."

"Why are you in my apartment?"

Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.

This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.

He sighs, back still facing you.

"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.

"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."

Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.

"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."

Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.

He turns around.

The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.

You were right: Batman was wrong.

pt 3

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment's Section (pt.10)

─────── · ·

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: an epilogue (no spoilers here!).

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, slowburn, fluff, light angst, cheesiness, friends that act like lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, attempt at humour, social media au, officially lovers.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT

─ · · A/N: my last smosh fic! thank you all seriously for all the support. I wouldn't have written as much as I did for the fandom without the comments, reblogs and tags I have had the pleasure of receiving. I may come back once I get through the creative burnout i'm feeling for smosh but who knows! Anways-uh... enjoy!

─────── · ·

A few years later...

🔔 (name)s_username just posted for the first time in awhile, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by phatchance, spennser, glen_powell, and others

(name)s_username Never really been much of a secret just how much I love my best friend that I can now, officially, call my husband 🫶

Thank you, Spencer, for dealing with my bullshit, for calling me out, letting me cry on your shoulder, yell in your face, eat everything in your fridge and yet still find ways to love me, all of me, and never make me question it for a moment. Thank you, my love, for showing me what love can feel like, what it can look like, and how it can be practiced.

It does not feel like twenty years have gone by but then again, I see you everyday and now I get that with the promise of forever. I love you and that is something I will never take for granted.

*No pictures from the wedding, sorry everyone but I'm keeping those for myself, friends, and family :-) Have roadtrip pictures instead!

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spennser gosh, I didn't know we were hard-launching already?!

↳ (name)s_username babe, we did that nearly five years ago... 😬

username01 I will NEVER get over these two! 😭 I want a love like this! Its been so incredibly beautiful and fulfilling watching you two interact on screen together, congratulations! You both deserve nothing but happiness! #(yourshipname)isforever

username31 why is nobody else commenting about that last picture 🤣

co_mill you have me inspired to re-new my vows! Gosh, I remember meeting you both for the first time and seeing that initial re-spark and to see it, to celebrate it now, gosh-bestie you have my crying. I'm so happy for you both 🫶 #(yourshipname)isforever

↳ (name)s_username you have me sobbing now too! and I told myself I wouldn't cry anymore today! 😭 thank you for always believing in us (even when we didn't lol) ↳ co_mill of course! some people are just meant to be, just at a different time. ❤️❤️ ↳ (name)s_username couldn't have said it better myself ❤️❤️ ↳ username24 okay but why is this thread the most wholesome thing on the interweb??? ↳ username00 who tf says "interweb?"

username69 still don't understand why anyone would care about such a terrible person like yourself. The biggest liar is here and everyone knows it- you lie to yourself too.

username31 congratulations!!! 🎉

username12 OMG THEY GOT MARRIED????? 🥳 YESSSS #(yourshipname)isforever

shayne_topp woah! you got married? OMG I did that too!

↳ (name)s_username oh shit really? I'm still trying to figure out if I like this whole marriage thing or not... /sarcasm ↳ shayne_topp ehhh, I mean, I don't know about you but I have a pretty killer marriage. You and Spencer can try... ↳ (name)s_username SPENCER!! 👺 ↳ spennser yes, love? ❤️ ↳ (name)s_username do we have a better marriage than shourtney? 🥹 ↳ spennser I-uh... 😬 ↳ anthony_padilla (psst, just say yes!) ↳ spennser yes! 😄 ↳ (name)s_username see shanye! take that! 😄 ↳ username88 "yes, love" AHHHHHHHHHHH 💞

username33 #(yourshipname)isforever #(yourshipname)isforever #(yourshipname)isforever #(yourshipname)isforever

username29 YESSS LET"S GOOOOO BOYSSSSS!!!!!!

filmingamanda does this mean I can't make anymore "spencer is attractive jokes, now?"

↳ (name)s_username I mean... you're not wrong so I won't stop you 😉

username90 this all feels surreal... but congrats!! 👏

ianhecox proud of you both, truly ❤️

chickenshopdate and here goes another ex of mine getting married. WHEN WILL IT BE MY TIME GOD??? PLEASEEE

phatchance you both looked so beautiful today 🫶

tomeybones wishing you both years of happiness to come!!

username12 I hate you, so much now.

─────── · ·

🔔 spennser just posted for the first time in awhile, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by (name)s_username, filmingamanda, and others

spennser today and everyday from now, I get the pleasure of waking up in my spouses arms. if you would have asked me in college that I would be dating a movie star, comedian, writer, and director as talented, smart, and gorgeous as (name); I would have, quite frankly, told you to shut up and fuck off.

Funny how things change, huh? I now cannot think of a singular day without you in it and cannot remember a day without you in my life. I am so incredibly thankful that you fell in love with me, trusted me with your heart up until now and for forever.

You will always have my love and support. My arms to welcome you back home and I will make sure you never question how much I love you, my love and show you everyday just how much you mean to me.

*No pictures from the wedding! Keeping that private, please do not go looking for pictures.

View all 4,220 comments

(name)s_username I love you, so much. 🫶

↳ spennser I love you. 🫶

username01 AHHHHH. 😭 No but like- AHHHHH you GUYsss are killing me here. After years of waiting im now dying here. My heart cannot take this level of sweetness 🫶 #(yourshipname)isforever

smosh #(yourshipname)isforever

smoshgames #(yourshipname)isforever

smoshpit #(yourshipname)isforever

↳ username99 not all the smosh channels coming together LMAO 😂

username24 "So this is love, mhmm, mhmm, so this is what makes like divine~" - (name) x Spencer

username68 babe, wake up! (name) and Spencer actually got married! #(yourshipname)isforever

damienhass you guys are so stinkin' cute 😊

username77 eh. I bet it'll last a year or two before Spencer gets sick of em.

anthonypadilla with everyone getting married im beginning to feel left out...

↳ ianhecox I mean... we could always get married?

username33 I love that this whole post is about Spence being both genuinely so happy the get to call (name) there's but also wondering how on earth he managed to get with (name) too XD

username90 wishing the couple nothing but happiness and respect 🫡

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: and holy shit! the comments section is finally over! thank you all again for reading this far, I hope you all have enjoyed reading this series as much as I did writing it. 🫶 - I will always think about this lol

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala @laurasdrey

[yuutawe]

TAKE A BITE INTO MY HEART﹕yuta okkotsu. . .

when death strikes down those you love most, a desperate binding vow proves to be the salvation.

ꖛ warnings!‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(overall) nsfw + angst with happy ending(?)‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎major character death !‎ blood and death (mentions + slightly described) + a bit of gore (hearts) ! cannibalism ! ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎yandere appeals (?) ! mutual obsession ! jjk manga spoilers for the end of the shinjuku battle arc ! i basically threw every rule from the universe out of the window (this is not how binding vows work and im nearly sure of it, lol).

ꖛ about. * reader is gender-neutral. no anatomy specified + they/them pronouns and genderless nicknames.

ꖛ inspired by‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎so, i went back to watching hannibal. blame the homoerotic subtext in the cannibalistic series for this idea.

ꖛ author's note * repost because i can't see my post in the tags (sob). originally posted this in nov 28th.

ꖛ word count ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎1.410 (1.4k)

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎[ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎NOT PROOFREAD!]

how do you undo what can never be undone? a person's comfort when someone dies is usually knowing that it was inevitable. this fate awaits us all in the end. soon, in a day or ninety years, we too will be hidden in large wooden boxes, burned and turned to ash, or left to rot in the darkest, most forgotten corner of the world. but death changes people. its touch is not meant for those who remain alive, but it changes them all the same.

as you changed when yuta died.

the flowers seem too alive when they arrive arranged in bouquets, tied with ribbons that are too vibrant. that color bothers your eyes. or maybe he seems too colorless. it's uncomfortable.

that body on the stretcher is uncomfortable. it's unfair and uncertain. when ieiri and the others left the room ── give them a moment of privacy. you know how important it is ──, whispering behind your back as if you were an abandoned stray animal. a homeless animal, with no place in the world. pitiful. like a creature abandoned on the side of a dirty road. everyone stops to look at the tragedy, but not to help. and how they mourn. they cry more than you.

poor things. they were so happy.

swear i don't know how it happened. one minute he was fine, and the next...

i didn't think he wouldn't make it. i didn't expect this.

i can barely imagine how they must be feeling. imagine seeing someone you love die in front of you, like this.

the sound of metal being punched takes you out of your thoughts. the idea of ​​people saying this now, with you right there with his dead body in front of you, just infuriates you so much that you punched the metal tray without even realizing it. simple as that. anger took over your muscles, and several sterilized tools were thrown on the floor. everything so fast. how can something happen so fast?

how did it all happen so fast?

he was fine. he said he was going to be fine. damn it, yuta promised he was going to stay. that he needed to fight, needed to help. your role was to stay here and give support to miss ieiri.

“asshole.” you can hear yourself mumble, your voice choked with tears. “you promised.”

when you touch his hand, searching for a familiar comfort, you find only an empty shell. normally, his long fingers would gently curl to hold yours. those warm hands would hold yours and yuta’s sweet voice would murmur it’s going to be okay, my love. we’ll make it, we always do.

lying son of a bitch. that’s what you want to scream, as the words mix with please, wake up. wake up and look at me. come back to me.

his body is so cold. not cold in yuta’s way ── warm hands and cold body, but cold like death. cold because the blood has stopped running through his veins, icy because his muscles don't move or contract anymore, his organs don't work.

just a few minutes. it's still surprisingly cool for a fresh body, but he's cold in a way that almost burns you. your aching heart can’t take this sight, no.

your body bends, and your lips touch his icy forehead. those closed eyes, those blue and depressed eyes need to open again. it's the only thing that's right. a dark whisper runs through your mind. he could come back, couldn't he? so many sorcerers have already cheated death. why did her scythe need to fall right on your boyfriend?

it wouldn't be like that. not if you're really here to change the course of history. a living and perfect heart beats in your chest — his, static and dead, is still red. it's still possible. it will be messy and completely crazy, but who's going to stop you?

who would try to execute you both? without the higher-ups, the sky's the limit and the new jujutsu society rises from the rubble of the old. and what golden age doesn't deserve its own champion? may he rise from the ashes and become the new champion of a sick society: recovering from the rot caused by the corruption of the old jurisdiction, yuta will overcome death and return to his place, by your side.

only by your side.

the blood is sticky, gooey. the bright red is so grotesque against yuta's pale skin that you wonder if perhaps god created blood to convince humans to kill less. it didn't work.

as the incision is made in his chest, you quickly put your fingers inside his body. a little searching, and with more effort, you hit his heart. great. with some difficulty, you cut a piece and brings it up to your mouth.

gulp. your swallowing is like the ringing of the death bell.

his blood stains your index and middle fingers — and greedily, you raise them to your lips and stain them with red. it's like lipstick. there's a certain romanticism in that.

the price to pay is not a debt that will be collected immediately. this could backfire very quickly, perhaps in a way that no one can stop. but if this gives him back to you—

the doorknob lowers, and someone grumbles behind the door. there's not much time. you don't have any more time. hey, did you lock the door? whoever is speaking, their voices seem like background noise as you lean in to kiss his cold lips.

may you share a life, may you share gifts and curses again. pure, mutual love overcomes every kind of mortal wound and lacerating incision.

you can almost feel a deep discouragement ── no answer. it didn't work? why? do you have to take a life to give another? it would make sense. bam. bam. open the door, they say. scared of what you might do to yourself.

a hand reaches up and grabs the back of your head, pushing you down once more. and yuta leans up, his lips wrapping around your bloody ones eagerly.

the salty tears run down your cheeks, and your hands let go of the scalpel to cup his face in your hands. it’s almost animalistic, desperate, as pure love invades you both.

he leans back, breathing heavily. oh, he is breathing. yuta okkotsu has returned from the dead thanks to you.

“what is going on— i can’t— my head hurts.”

the pain that hits you right after is almost unbearable. it's like being torn in half and then put back together in a completely different way.

he holds you, still trying to shoo away the ringing in his ears. “love— love, what’s wrong?” yuta asks, grabbing your hand to settle you. to push the pain away from your beating heart. 

the heart you two now share. two halves of your heart, shared to pump life through your bodies. you’re weakened, but he is alive. it was worth the price.

the door is broken down with a bang, but you can't make yourself care. your arms wrap around what used to be a corpse, but now is back to being your sweet, lovely boyfriend. he hugs your waist, his fingers grabbing at the flesh as if he wants to make sure you’re real. this is real.

“you’re alive, baby.” you sob, and he gently kisses your tears away. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

and when the others enter the medical bay, all they see is yuta, who was dead less than a minute ago. he has a new scar on his chest, a vertical cut. the scalpel that was used to help you with the process has long been forgotten, thrown on the floor.

your chin rest at the top of his head, and it feels like you can finally breathe after drowning in grief for cold hours. — years, it’s what it felt like. he nuzzles into your warmth, stealing some for his own body.

his blood is flowing again, but he's still a little pale and the temperature is freezing in the medical bay. he rests his head against your shoulder, watching all the shocked and confused reactions from everyone else.

it's like walking straight into a sacrilege, something impossible, something that should never have happened. the breakdown of the natural order happened here, in this room. and yuta is alive.

alive, and staring at them with cold blue eyes for interrupting your moment.

© made by spiralryomen on tumblr. do not copy, repost, translate my works in this or any other site — inspirations allowed with credits.

[andrevasims]

For me, what shows TS2's age more than anything is how the current terminology people use for common game features really does not fit the game at all. And I don't mean that in a curmudgeonly "Kids these days, with their TiksToks and Beyblades" way (mostly lol)

Like people keep referring to hoods as "saves." Which I mean honestly if that's all they meant by "save" it wouldn't actually be that difficult to just think oh yeah I get it. But people are also saying things like "The game crashed so I lost my save" - Which yeah, using context clues I can figure out that their implied meaning is that they lost gameplay progress due to a crash. We've all been there.

But if you're actually trying to help troubleshoot a problem like that, where people use "save" to both mean "An entire neighborhood folder full of files pertaining to lots, sims, etc." and "Gameplay progress," it takes a little longer to figure out what they actually need help with.

Or if official EA employees are going to say "You need to start a new save" as instructions for fixing a bug... ?!?

But also just the fact you have to manually save TS2. Like that Reddit post listing problems/bugs someone has run into while playing so far, one they noted was that they turned their sim into a witch, the game crashed, and now their sim is no longer a witch. I mean that is a problem, but like... Yeah, that's why crashes are bad, because this game has no auto-save lol

Like when the McElroy Brothers played Spore for idk nearly an hour without saving, then the game crashed so they lost literally the entire planet they were playing lol - It's just not something you need to think about anymore in most modern games (which is good... when you are playing modern games lol)

[mythicmanuscripts]

hey so glad to see you're posting more again! I really enjoy your work as it's a breath of fresh air in a very saturated fandom space 💕

can I request something about how jace & aemond (separately lol) would celebrate their s/o's birthday? like, if they have or make up any traditions together, what kind of gift(/gifts hehe) they get them, etc! just had mine recently ♑ and I thought it might be a fun fluffy topic!

Ooo good idea anon!! Brilliant idea.

This answer is mostly if not entirely SFW so I won't add a cut to hide behind but if you or anyone else would want an NSFW version or would want to send their thoughts for an NSFW version then my askbox is open!

-------------------------------------

JACE:

Right the first thing you need to know is that Jace makes the task of getting you a birthday present into a group project with every single other person in Dragonstone. And I do mean everyone. Even Rhaenyra's handmaidens get asked their thoughts.

He just wants to make sure he gets you the best possible thing!! He loves you so so much and he knows he has to get you something worthy of you. He's so nervous and picky about it, changing his mind multiple times a day and making it everyone else's problem.

Of course Rhaenyra did already tell him what he should get you, but he had to be sure!!! Which naturally meant he had to consult with every single person in the castle.

(He even sends a raven to Daemon when he was at Harrenhall. He nearly had a heart attack seeing an unexpected raven from dragonstone only to discover his stepson wants advice on a birthday gift for his crush.)

As for actual gifts, I definitely think he will get you at least one thing that represents his house somehow? Like maybe a necklace similar to the one Rhaenyra wears or something with either of his houses' symbols. He wants to present you with something that shows not only does he loves you but he considers you part of his house, he can't fight to be heir to the iron throne without you.

(When Daemon returns he points out that nothing says part of the family as good as asking every single fucking member for advice)

AEMOND:

Aemond is an interesting on with this because he would absolutely want to make your birthday as amazing as he possibly can, but he's also very bad at expressing it? He would be debating with himself for months over what to do for you, would have gone through just about every gift possible to obtain in King's Landing he reaches something he thinks might work.

Oh and it's not just one gift, absolutely not. Usually there's a book given (usually one of his favourites that he wants you to read) and then also some of your favourite pastries and of course more flowers than you know what to do with.

I also agree that I think he'd LOVE to have some sort of tradition around gift giving for your birthday (and his actually, though he won't say that) because there's just something so comforting about knowing he can do that every single year.

That item would be the most special of all, and I think it would be something he had to work for somehow? A hand carved figurine, a metal rose, glass melted with dragon fire, etc. He spends HOURS on it leading up to your birthday and it's always worth it to see the smile on your face when you thank him.

[katyspersonal]

i might be misinterpreting it, but i absolutely love reading your thoughts on miquella—they’re such a breath of fresh air compared to the "miquellester" bs i keep seeing on yt or any media, especially from some of the big lore channels that were starting to sound like those dumb redditors. like, why is the fandom so hellbent on reducing his tragic, complex, and nuanced story into "miquella is the most evil evil to ever evil in the lands between. hmph, poor mohg and his uwu blood cult dynasty"? it’s exhausting. i love his character, design and that beautiful ost, but i still firmly believe that mohg never beat any allegations, lmao—in fact, this whole “he was brainwashed/mind-controlled” narrative has stripped away so much of his characterization (but that's just me lmao). seriously though, i genuinely appreciate how much you expand on miquella’s behavior and role in both the base game and the DLC. it’s so refreshing to see someone dig into his complexity instead of parroting those ridiculous “miquellester” comments or the “mohg beat the allegations” takes. i cannot watch any lore video on mohg and/or miquella anymore without those stupid comments ruining it for me. thank you for offering such thoughtful insights—i might actually enjoy his character more now.

why is the fandom so hellbent on reducing his tragic, complex, and nuanced story into "miquella is the most evil evil to ever evil in the lands between

Because they're Berserk fanboys, next question.

OK OK sorry I had to lol fsdhfdh

On a serious note, sorry for being a bit late with the reply, as in this case I didn't know what to say; you sound very passionate about the topic (not a bad thing!), and I myself had several "stages" regarding opinion on these characters!

In fact, I do not post about Miquella nearly often enough to see how I could change someone's mind on him...? But only because I do not post about anyone often enough - I am cursed with "liking all characters" and relying on my friends, followers and dashboard to help me to "focus" x) So I also wondered whether you've confused me with some other blog at first? But regardless, you have strong feelings boiling up that I can sympathise with, and I'd still rather say something :p

You say this, but before SOTE and shortly after, I actually targeted different kind of fans - the other extreme who idealised Miquella to the point of being aggressive towards anyone with the "wrong" headcanons or opinions on this character! I affectionately titled them 'Twin Cultists' or 'Needy Knight Ledas' and condemned multiple instances of toxicity they'd never stop causing fdshfdhs Them believing in Miquella's nonexistent "character assassination" was not helpful: how can anyone see his tragic fall from grace delivered the way it is, and assume that Fromsoft wanted fans to hate him? If someone's response to the character not being so perfect is hate, this is their skill issue, not writers'!

However, first weeks after SOTE I myself felt disappointment I needed to digest, and made jokes about Miquella being Griffith. And I sure joined "Mohg beat the allegation" wave of jokes at first! But in my defence, I didn't attack writers or fans that loved the direction SOTE took, and my perception of Miquella (and of Leda too!) cleared fast enough from initial "shock" into what it is now!

Currently, I don't talk about people whose love for Miquella is toxic all that often, and switched "target" towards those who neglect the narrative and downgrade him towards evil, manipulative bastard that never meant the good things he did, huh? :p Clearly I am aching for discourse at heart? A warrior should remain ever-drifting, and this applies to drifting of targets. You (probably) don't know me, but I am like this about Real Things TM too, not JUST fandomry. It is a matter of addressing the unfairness itself, but there is never only one source of it, and you lock on one at the time! In fandomry context: before it were people who had strange cult-like obsession with Miquella and his sister too... now it is people who slander the characters and tell those who read the nuance that they're "coping". And, yeah, Mohg is weaponised in this regard unfortunately!

Mohgwyn Dynasty plans with Pureblood Knights, Bloody Fingers and kidnapped people like Varre already existed before Miquella's enchantment! None of this stuff is good! Understandable, considering Mohg's trauma, and being called for by Formless Mother that appears before those heavily traumatized? Yeah. But not good! Ansbach's whole point is that he was willing to fight Miquella over "dishonor" of mind-control, not because he.. what, turned Mohgwyn agenda into some worse direction?

It appears that Miquella charmed Mohg for the purpose of being put back into that cocoon and nourished into whatever links him with Land of Shadow now! Miquella benefited from Moghwyn's bloody antics (got to enter Land of Shadow), but not created them! They were doing this stuff before and Anshbach is not happy that Mohg's own designs and wishes got skewed by a charm! Designs that had to do with bloody sacrifices before Miquella got involved!

I am not sure whether Miquella charmed Mohg before for some reason and it later dominoed into him kidnapping him, or Mohg kidnapped Miquella on his own due to needing an Empyrean and Miquella saw an opportunity and seized it! Malenia says that he "will keep his promise", so I think there was some way Miquella had her know to not go looking for him and just wait! I am sure he didn't "want to be kidnapped" from the get-go though, because if that was the plan he could've just walked into Mohgwyn and charm him from the start instead of waiting! Just, no reason to play hard to get when so much is at the stake, okay?

And if being kidnapped by Mohg was not a plan, but becoming a God and promise with Radahn to join was, but Miquella was still around during Aeonia Battle (saved Freyja).. I think maybe embedding himself into Haligtree also worked for potential travelling into Land of Shadow? As long as he sleeps so hard in his cocoon he astral-projects and disconnects from his body, he is able to do it! Whether it is beside Malenia or Mohg doesn't matter. But empty cocoon itself can't have the same energy as whole ass tree to "boost" him... so, blood it is? Mohg and Miquella are funny in a bitter way in this regard, they're like if a guy tried to shove another guy off the cliff, but that first guy grabbed that second guy's legs before slipping so now they BOTH fell sdfjfdh

_______________________

All in all, both Miquella and Mohg deserve nuance and agency for both sympathetic motivations AND bad things they did! They are both very sad characters that were doing what they could in a broken world, but I can't see the story working if either of them was "just a victim" / "just evil". It is not my bias, it is just how evidence from the actual source material IS! Everything points towards the fact that Miquella was kind and caring @ Mohg was already doing madcult before the kidnapping, but Miquella had to turn the situation he found himself in towards his favour! Mohg was controlled into giving bloody sacrifices to him rather than the Eldrich God he worshipped, not into starting his cult, whereas the reasons Mohg ended up mad like this are more than understandable!

And I feel sorry for anyone who has to distance from theories and lore videos in the fandom because it is just bland or wrong take every other time tbh. Important part of engaging with the fandom is lost because many people have black-or-white thinking towards the characters! I don't think it is very hard to hold several things in the head at once.. We as fandom remember 200 item descriptions and placements to make our headcanons, so why it is harder to remember details about characters that prove their depth and complexity? Just don't despair since there are other accounts that will provide deep analyses on the characters! Follow everyone you find and your dashboard will become nothing but substancial and thoughtful talks, you won't have to worry about stumbling into bad takes anymore! It is kind of what I did x) *voice of a guy that doesn't check the fandom tag, Reddit or Youtube anymore*

[hackedmotionsensors]

lol i've complained about this a fair amount on twitter but I got a comment last night? that made me think about this again.

And its ...getting weird comments that I cannot tell if they're being RUDE or there's a language barrier or some combination of both.

I finished a standee art last night and posted it and this morning I get a reply from someone who's replied very confusingly before...."You're tired and need to go to sleep"

Which LMAO wasn't entirely untrue but that was the whole comment on the art.

Not to put this person on blast and obviously do not go bother them if you know where the comment is at.....

But like what the hell does that mean? I F E E L like this is a translation error or a miscommunication. But thats the ENTIRE problem. THAT IS THE ENTIRE PROBLEM. I'm tired of getting comments that are CONFUSING to me AT BEST...and more often just fucking rude.

Like....its weird. Bc i've been on the internet for close to 3 decades now??? Lol I'm so old. But.....I've been more confused in the past year or so with how people talk to perfect strangers on the internet. I think it might be a generational thing but like LMAO ARE THE "KIDS THESE DAYS" just ......fucking RUDE??? Like I've heard pre-teens and teens talk to each other and its pretty mean but so were a lot of kids when I was a teen. So maybe its a language barrier there.

But I feel like....because everyone is so comfortable talking to perfect strangers on the internet, and getting EXTREMELY overly close? or thinking they have the right to speak to people as if we're super besties (which in turn means saying a rude backhanded compliment thats intended to be nice but just sounds mean??)...its just....so common lately for me to just be like "Why the fuck would you say this to me?"

I'm not your friend. I'm just a random artist online that draws from a fandom you probably like (or hate? Idk your life lol)

I think this whole thing STARTED with Japanese and Korean artists (and probably lots of other languages that aren't English) begging people to stop leaving horrible reaction images or people saying "I'M GONNA K*LL YOU!!!!! THIS IS DEVASTATING!!!! I'M DEAD!!!!" and the poor artist being like...okay well this is a thing I have to live with now.

And I thought we DID move past that but I feel like its back just without the reaction images bc Gen Alpha and Z thinks reaction images are cringe LMAO (small blessings)

But ....I forget which drawing I did.....It was something sad. I think it was a sad zosan?? And this person LITERALLY said they were going to hunt me down. And that wasn't the initial comment. They said something equally as rude and when I asked for clarification for what they meant they were like " I'M GONNA FIND OUT WHERE YOU LIVE"

GIRL ITS FANART OF ZORO AND SANJI!?!?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN

Again. I've talked about this til I'm blue in the face (fingers?? since its typing??) about this on twitter. And I've been sitting on this comment for nearly 24 hrs just....fucking confused. And I hate this ....confusion. Bc In My Day(tm) .....lol I didn't like mean comments then either but it was usually some asshole in my tumblr mail being like "YOU FUCKIN SUCK!!" lol

I might just be too stupid to interpret these quirky little comments but like

guys please if you like something. Just be normal and say "omg I love this" or like a cute reaction that is APPROPRIATE to the situation lol Don't demand things from me when I'm already giving you something that I'm doing in my free time for fun. Lol And stop asking me if there's a fic for comics or art that i TELL you came from me asdfasdfa I don't know where the fic is. I'd like to know too. (but also if I draw from a fic I link to the fic but I've decided to stop that for the time being. Any comics coming from me will be mine wholecloth for the foreseeable future)

[evilkitten3]

i love good sibling-evil sibling roleswap fics bc they can be extremely interesting but almost all of them end in reconciliation and happiness and whatnot, and while that's fine, it always seems to have the "evil" sibling coming back to the good guys' side after the good guys, y'know, talk to them, and very often doesn't seem to notice that the reason that didn't happen to the canon evil sibling is bc they didn't do that. it's the same in thor-loki swap fics as it is in zuko-azula swap fics (although the dynamics are somewhat different since the parental favoritism in atla is given to the "evil" sibling)

i keep thinking, if azulon had ordered ozai to kill azula instead, would she even bother to tell anyone? she certainly wouldn't tell zuko. if she told ursa, would she even believe her? would ursa take the same risk in killing azulon for her daughter's sake? bc i'm not sure that she would.

or, if azula somehow got banished (the circumstances would have to be different; there is no way azula would be that reckless in a meeting she wasn't supposed to be in, even if she managed to talk someone (definitely not iroh) into letting her in), would her mission be the same? would someone go with her, or would she be by herself? and if zuko never went looking for the avatar, how would that change him?

atla au fics very often have zuko end up on the good guys' side regardless of circumstance, and i feel like, intentionally or not, it's bc there's a belief that there's some sort of inherent quality he has that would make him have the opinions we in the real world would consider to be the morally right one, which i feel is sorta unfair to zuko as a character.

zuko's redemption arc is often portrayed as "he saw the effects of the war on the rest of the world and realized it was wrong", which is somewhat baffling to me bc every instance of zuko seeing the impact of the war occurs before the finale of book 2, meaning that seeing the damage the war had done wasn't enough to stop him from wanting to go home. zuko's redemption arc was deeply personal– it wasn't about other people. i don't think that's even really a bad thing, frankly - he's sixteen, and people are complicated. from the get-go, zuko's character arc has been self-centered, and i don't mean that in a bad way, it's not at all a bad thing. he wanted to capture aang so he could go home. he betrayed ozai bc he realized that ozai treated him horribly and he would never be able to be himself there. when he confronts ozai, he acknowledges that the war is and always has been wrong, but the thing is: he knew that already. he'd known that for a while by then. the knowledge that the war was wrong wasn't enough.

and to be clear, i think that's a good thing! i think that's good writing, that it makes zuko more complex and interesting. zuko knows right and wrong; even when he's an antagonist, he intervenes in situations where the fire nation soldiers are doing something he views as dishonorable. he's willing to stand up for what's right on a small scale, but it takes him a really long time to decide that what he should actually be doing is confronting the much bigger problem, and that's something he only becomes able to do once he realizes how bad the war and the fire nation have been for him.

zuko's redemption works bc it's an active decision he made (several active decisions, technically) that depended on him staying true to himself and abandoning conforming to the people who had power over him. a redemption arc for azula can't work like that bc they're not at all the same. for starters, while azula is also selfish, her character goals for most of the series aren't. they're still bad, bc she's an antagonist, but where zuko was acting to restore his own honor, azula's initial goals are to serve her nation (which is an evil nation, but that's not the point).

i think fics where zuko tries to get azula redeemed are quite interesting, but they often miss a key factor: one of the areas where azula and zuko are very similar is that they both absolutely despise feeling weak in any way. when iroh tries pressuring zuko into doing something he doesn't want to do, he tends to lash out– zuko doesn't like being controlled, and iroh eventually realized that zuko was going to have to come to the not-evil side on his own bc dragging him there forcibly just made him want to rebel. at the end of book 2, zuko chooses azula over iroh bc azula realized that it had to be zuko's choice, made for himself. iroh tried to push zuko to redemption before he was ready, but azula gave him a choice. ironically, iroh verbally acknowledges that zuko needs to choose, but he still opts to try and force his hand. both azula and iroh are being manipulative here, but the difference is that azula frames her argument as a choice zuko is not obligated to make, and iroh doesn't. zuko chooses to return, just as he later chooses to leave again.

forcing azula to try and gain "redemption" won't work for the same reason it didn't work for zuko. it would have the same effect– she would just lash out, only unlike zuko, as demonstrated here, azula is significantly more dangerous (and, depending on your interpretation of her breakdown, significantly less stable).

the reason a lot of attempts at azula redemption fall flat to me is that a) azula is often the only character who seems to need redemption, while mai and ty lee seem to have been declared good guys by the powers-that-be offscreen despite having never shown anything but full support for the war and being just as involved in the fall of ba sing se as azula, b) her redemption often being framed as something necessary not for any specific thing that she did but instead for simply being in the first place– pre-14yo azula didn't need redemption; her only crime was being kind of a dick to her brother (note that all of the pre-series being a dick to zuko occurred when azula was 11 or younger, bc zuko was gone for three years), and c) iroh is almost always in his little tea shop in ba sing se and everyone's completely fine with that.

i've rambled much more than i meant to so i'll finish up with one final thing i haven't been able to stop thinking about: it's been a while since i watched the show, so i may be misremembering, but i'm fairly certain azula never even implied wanting to be the fire lord until ozai told her he was passing the title to her.

Azula has already done this. Azula can breathe fire from her mouth like everyone else in her family. I know it’s not a big deal, but it always makes me laugh how people are so quick to remember Zuko’s fire vortex but forget that Azula has enough abilities to name her best fire bender just on paper via the same comics.

[andkisses]

♡ warmth, gold, and honey | jungwon ♡

prompt: You’re actually a really friendly and chill vampire and at night you float around outside of my bedroom window to talk with me about the universe and stuff

♡ jungwon x gn!reader | wc. 1.8k ♡ genres/tropes: vampire!jungwon, human!reader, college!au, some fluff, some confessions, a kiss ♡ mentions of/warnings: mentions of a cheating ex, i think that’s all? also one pet name usage ♡ a/n: meant to post this at halloween but forgot i had it lol a rewrite of something i had written a long time ago but never posted, enjoy <3 tfw u extend a drabble from 517 words to nearly four times that lol

♡ masterlist ♡

When you first met him, you were terrified. Who wouldn’t be? Everything you’d ever heard about his kind sent chills down your spine and made you want to curl up and hide and never leave. You didn’t even know what he really was then. He was just there, tall and intimidating as hell. You really shouldn’t have come to this party. You should be back at your place, studying for your next exam. A boring life was a safe, vampire-free life, yeah?

But after you met Yang Jungwon and learned his secret truth, your perspective on things changed quite drastically. It happened quite fast, actually, this change of heart. Vampires weren’t 100% scary anymore—though, don’t get it confused, Jungwon, as fair as he may be, could turn scary in an instant. They were merely beings who had memories of great history, and an incredible knack for storytelling.

On nights you couldn’t sleep—because of life, or a test, or that stupid boy who cheated on you—you’d call him and ask for a story. And every time, without question, he’d oblige, honeyed voice coming through the receiver. The stories Jungwon told were so fantastical, so imaginative, it was hard for you to believe they could have ever been true. But, then again, you were hearing them from a real life vampire, so who’s to say what’s real and what’s not?

Eventually, though, your restless nights start to concern him. You try brushing it off, say it was just a phase because that’s just how life is, or an important incoming exam, or because your stupid ex who cheated on you really, really hurt you. You stop calling, too, spending long moonless nights alone and in silence with nothing but the darkness to keep you company. You could try to remember the stories he told you, but your memory always dulls in comparison.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned after meeting Yang Jungwon, out of everything he’s told you or shown you, it’s that he’s good at reading people.

And he’s especially good at reading you.

Another restless night, paging through a chem textbook you’re too exhausted to even try to understand. The only light coming from your desk lamp, and whatever moonlight could filter down through the fire escape. Not that it was much escape, though, with the last bit of ladder broken and still not replaced. Maybe you should have splurged a little more for an off-campus apartment, or gone halfsies with someone else.

But you do enjoy your apartment, as small and as dingy as it is. It’s yours, even if you still feel like you have to clean extra hard because of him.

When you hear a tap on your window and see him floating outside, a happy smile on his face with a teasing expression to his eyes, you really aren’t as surprised as you expect yourself to be. As you should have been. You let him in, pushing the window up before Jungwon slips in like a lithe Peter Pan. He’s feet gently land on your floor, and while he’s still tall, there’s nothing intimidating about Jungwon now. You dare say he’s the exact opposite for you.

He surveys your room with a blank expression before another smile overtakes his features.

“No wonder you can’t sleep,” he says, a small tsk-tsk in his voice. “The front of the building from when I dropped you off is much nicer. Your room is boring—no stories at all.”

“That’s not true!” you reply, pointing to your shelf full of knickknacks and memories and photographs you’d taken over the years. Some places decidedly empty, a symbolic representation of your heart, but nonetheless–stuff!

“Not those stories, silly,” Jungwon chides. He reaches to take your hand, and it sends a chill straight to your heart, the spark it causes and the warmth you feel. Another thing you learned from knowing him–those stories about vampires being cold? Just a silly myth. Jungwon squeezes your hand again. “I mean stories like these.”

With a wave of his hand, a glittering scene appears in the empty space in front of you. An ocean slowly eats away at the shiny shore, everything bathed in the warm, vibrant colors of sunset. You can even hear the waves and smell the salty sea air, seagulls cawing in the distance. The golden glow of the image warms even the darkest corners of your room. You reach for the image, but your hand falls through.

“How did you—?” You look up at him, mouth slightly agape.

Jungwon laughs, a small one that lifts your heart, and uses his free hand to tap at his temple. “Magic,” he chimes with a wink, and now you’re both laughing.

By three in the morning, long after he’d shown up, you’re side by side on your bed, staring at the ceiling as Jungwon plants image after image. Each with their own story he whispers just for you. He even teaches you how to bring them back on your own, with your own brand of mundane magic.

“For whenever you need them,” he whispers, holding your hand close to his heart. “For whenever I can’t be near.”

You blink, and your throat catches at the idea of Jungwon not being here. You scan his face, the features you’ve made yourself very familiar with. You may not be able to recall Jungwon’s stories in color, but you’ve always been able to recall him in sparkling detail. You start to wonder about things, creating a timeline in your head as you gaze back up at the ceiling. Jungwon had told a story of star crossed lovers who actually ended up together. The glittery image of them sitting side by side, staring out into the ocean, curled into one another stares back at you.

You think about the night you met Jungwon, the night you’d your ex–then your boyfriend–making out and cheating on you with someone else in the corner of the kitchen. You’d gone in for more ice, and ended up shattering your reality as you knew. Then, you met a vampire, so maybe that night was destined to be odd.

You think about what’s happened since, the tentative friendship you find blossoming between you two. Jungwon attends your university–which you find stupid because why would you voluntarily submit yourself to such torture as organic chemistry–but Jungwon tells you it’s to see people, see how they’ve changed and how they’ve stayed the same since he’d turned.

“Besides,” Jungwon had said, tapping his pen against his temple when you’d gone to study together after class, “I already know just about everything. Makes test taking really easy.”

You think about how much you truly enjoy being in Jungwon’s company. How he sets you at ease, makes you laugh. The stories he tells, how he seems to have them only for you. You think about right now, his shoulder and knees pressed against your own. How he holds your hand against his heart. How he’s still watching you when you turn back to him, eyes soft and delicate.

As are his words when he asks, barely above a whisper, “What are you thinking about?”

You decide to be honest. “You.”

Jungwon blinks, eyes quickly going over your face, a small smile teasing the corner of his lips. His hold on your hand tightens just that much. “Why?”

“Because…” Your words fall short. Is this really where this conversation is going? You could overthink it to the moon and back, but you already know it would change your mind. There’s a reason you can feel the tips of your ears burning, a reason being so close to him makes your heart race. You stare into his eyes, so sweet and homey, and tell the truth. “I think I like you, Jungwon. A lot.”

He flashes you that brilliant smile, the one you know is just for you, the one that makes your heart lurch. “You like me?” he echoes through a smile. Then, he tilts his head, teasing. “Or my stories?”

You pull your hand free to whack him in the chest, earning you laughter. “I pour my heart out and this is the thanks I get?”

Jungwon’s hand, now free from holding yours, reaches across to cup your cheek. “Darling,” he says, and you feel your skin beneath his touch burn, “you did not pour your heart out. You told the truth, which is good. But pouring your heart out?” He shakes his head softly, turned towards you against the pillow.

Somehow, you’ve both gone from flat on your back to on your side, facing each other. You pout, even if your heart sings at how Jungwon is looking at you. “Then what does pouring your heart out look like, hm?”

Jungwon smiles, something sly and cunning, as if he’s waited a long time for this. “Well, I think it would sound something like this.” He pauses a moment before going on. “It’s how when I first saw you at the party, I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. Then I gathered you were already seeing someone, but then to see you cry? Because of what he did to you?”

Jungwon frowns at the memory. “Then we found each other at school, and we kept talking, and talking. And somewhere you found about me, but you didn’t care. And I told you stories every time you called because I needed an excuse to hear your voice or make you laugh. Because it was the best thing I could hear. Then, you stopped calling. And I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”

“Why?” you ask without even trying. It slips out in a pause in Jungwon’s speech.

He smiles, using his thumb to softly rub back and forth on your cheek. “I didn’t expect it to hurt because I’ve done this before–shared stories with people,” he says. “To be honest, it took me a while to figure out what was wrong, because I hadn’t felt it. At least not in a long time. When I realized it’s because I like you a lot, I had to figure out something to do.”

You can’t help but stare. “You like me back?”

“I fear I may love you,” he says softly, and you feel a knot in your stomach. He moves closer, using his hand on your cheek to tilt your chin up towards him, his lips a breath away from yours. You try to remind yourself to breathe. Your hand reaches out to cling to his shirt. “I’ve met so, so many people in my years, and then I met you. And you were suddenly everything that was missing, and I can’t help but think that…”

“That we’re meant to be?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve almost always associated Jungwon with warmth. First, him dispelling that silly legend about vampires being cold, or even heartless. You’d heard it the first time he enveloped you in a hug, when you broke down crying explaining what your ex had done to you. Then, his stories, his honeyed voice painting fantastical stories over the phone. The magic he has, producing the glittery golden scenes around you. His hand, so tender and gentle as it cups your cheek, fingers pressing delicate against the nape of your neck.

But Jungwon’s kisses? The warmest of them all.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

kdnfb's Ten Years of Fanfiction Mania

Featuring: Unmasked

Summary: Written under an Anonymous pseudonym ~M~ to fill the following prompt ~ Historical Katniss and Peeta hate each other. They attend a masquerade ball and for some reason end up kissing each other. Sparks fly everywhere. Katniss tries to find the man behind the mask but Peeta knows it was Katniss though he doesnt say anything. They end up bethrothed even if they 'despise' each other. How they fall in love is up to u and how katniss figured out it was peeta is up to u

Rating: E for explicit sexual content, explicit language, implied/referenced rape/nonconsensual (not everlark), implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced suicide, implied/referenced miscarriage, discussions of illness, war, and injury in a historical setting, ptsd, minor character death. They worst of these tags happens offscreen and is merely discussed and dealt with rather than shown here.

A/N: ~Unmasked~ is my longest fic in terms of word count (around 234k), although Outside Chance and Spellbound are not too far behind and are both incomplete. Unmasked started as something meant to be fun and cathartic, then turned into a ridiculously long and self indulgent fic that I still, to this day, have no idea if the anonymous person who submitted the prompt to @everlarkficexchange even read, let alone whether or not they liked it. But I love what I produced for this fic.

Why write it anonymously and only reveal myself later? A couple reasons. 1) Historical is not my wheel house. At least not writing it. I am a shameless consumer of historical romances. I did some research for this fic but not nearly the level I would've liked to have done. Eventually, I said screw it, it's about the vibes not the accuracy. 2) I had a pile of unfinished wips when I started this, to include Outside Chance and Spellbound (both of which are still unfinished hmmmmm) and I really didn't want a lot of questions about when I was going to get back to those while I was working on this because 3) I'd just gone through a small slice of writerly hell to the point that I seriously considered deleting my entire tumblr and all of my fanfic. Details are not important right now, the result is. That's probably the closest I've ever come to calling myself done with fandom.

Then this prompt posted to EFE and wouldn't leave me alone. Eventually, I decided that if I was going to write it, I wanted to write it with as little pressure as possible. So I chose to write and post it as ~M~ until it was finished. Plus, I thought it might make it fun for people other than me if there was a bit of mystery behind it. And I don't regret doing that.

Writing behind a mask allowed me to be as long winded and self-indulgent as I wanted to without worrying about how tight the storyline was or how accurate the historical details were, or wondering if I'd be walking into my tumblr and a barrage of the kind of messages I'd come to dread receiving. The only thing I worried about, really was if the amount and kind of smut I included gave me away prematurely lmao.

While this was my first real foray into the realm of historical fics, I am hoping it's not the last. I've got too many ideas and half started pieces to back out of it now. But those, like this one, will probably remain untethered to a specific real place, and a specific time, mainly because I just don't have that kind of time for research if I'm not getting paid to do it lol. They will be works of love if not works of accuracy.

Unmasked on AO3

[moltensmusings]

I was wondering what your thoughts were on the battle of fairy tail arc and what if anything you would change. Personally I would have liked it if they Laxus had a better relationship with the thunder legion - or there had been some stuff before that showed they were close so his spiral over the arc into being kinda a dick to them too was more shocking. On a side note, I'm kinda sad they didn't include in the anime the scene where he overhears people bashing fairy tail in a pub and beats them up because I feel it speaks to his character more!

Anyway I've been really enjoying your headcannons and they've made all the arcs you've discussed better in my head lol

Thank you! My goal when thinking up rewrite ideas/alterations is always to enhance the story presented more than fully, outright change it to something else entirely.

I didn't read the manga prior to Grand magic games since I was anime only, but I probably should at some point because scenes like that would be interesting to see!

I fully agree with you on the "Laxus should've cared point". One point I always think about every arc is just how much Mashima doesn't trust his audience to hate villains without making them horrible, sadistic people. Now I don't need villains to be written as redeemable, I myself thoroughly enjoy writing heinous individuals who are cruel to their core with no regard for life outside of their own (and even sometimes no regard for that). But if you want to make a villain that the audience can accept as redeemable you either need to make them complex and sympathetic, or show us their hard earned redemption.

Now, for Laxus, I personally would've made it clear that he cares about Fairy Tail members. Not just the reputation of the guild. Though his ego and insults towards others would often have people believing that. Makarov and Erza would both be capable of seeing through this and understanding that every criticism he has towards his guildmates comes from a place of trying to help them get better to keep them safe. I'd hint at him having a history of being close to guildmates who die or leave due to permanent damage sustained on missions.

This underlying care would be the reason Makarov would believe him to be the one right to take over as master. Because in spite of his inflated self worth, he still cared for his family.

Phantomlord arc would've been his breaking point, I would remove the scene of him saying he'd only help if Lucy dated him (that was only added to make him hate worthy) and have it simply be that he can't be reached due to a mission with the thunder legion. A rift forming between him and Makarov for Makarov letting Gajeel into the guild with no explanation after the dude hospitalized team shadowgear and tormented Lucy would cause him to believe Makarov incapable of putting the safety of the guild above the redemption of enemies.

The battle of fairy tail would be his way of proving to various members that they aren't cut out to be mages because if they can't even take care of themselves in a controlled environment, how can they hope to do so out in the field. He'd have a desperation as well to show that he is the strongest person in the guild thus the only one capable of stepping up to the role of guild master (Him having divine magic in the au would also explain this solid belief, god given magic and all that.) Rather than getting angry when Evergreen, Bixlow, or Freed loses, there would be a resignation that they aren't meant to stay. A sadness to it because he'd have known them all for almost a decade at this point.

"Why would people get frozen in stone" rather than it being all the girls who competed, it would be every member he deemed too weak to compete safely. People who use primarily support magic or haven't been with the guild long enough to make a mark in his memory of what they're capable of. Erza would be post tower of heaven nerf at this point so she'd be far below her normal strength level.

Makarov nearly dying this arc rather than being a moment of elation, would simply reinforce his need to get things done. To prove his own strength and take the position he was destined for.

When Makarov sends him off to self reflect he would note "You can't know what will come of people. Dangers exist in the world whether you're part of a guild or not. People will do as they please and all you can hope is to prepare them for what comes."

I would also throw in a few flashback scenes during the arc, scenes of guild members interacting with Laxus and Laxus meeting/grouping up with the thunder legion. I'm personally partial to Makarov raising Erza post tower of heaven so I'd have loved if prior to this arc we got some Erza/Laxus sibling scenes.

Again: I don't need villains to be tragic always, I think gajeel being a horrible person that has to earn his place is something I like (wish it was better handled) but for characters like Laxus I think them being complex and sympathetic is crucial. Especially when we don't see them until they've completely changed.

[thescrapwitch]

Hello! I keep wanting to message you so I’m gonna use your fic game ask post as an excuse, lol! XD

If you’d care to indulge me, I’d love to see the Flip Flop version of Feanor and Nerdanel’s first reunion in “From Ruins We Grow.” (Love this fic so much. 🥰) I’d love to see what all she was thinking and feeling going to meet him again after so long. 👀

Thank you!

Thank you! You can message me anytime, I love talking about my fics 😊

Fun fact: I had no idea Nerdanel was going to show up so early in the fic, but she kind of burst onto the page, making me just as surprised as Fëanor was. I thought she would stay back until chapter 7 or 8, but nope! She was determined to be a bigger part of this fic and face him.

Here’s a little bit of their first scene together but from her POV:

“Fëanor.” The name came out of Nerdanel’s mouth like a curse, burning her tongue as she spoke it.

He looked - damn him, he looked like he had years and years ago. Dark hair a mess, eyes catching her heart with how they dazzled in the light. But gone was his grin: determined, self-assured, full of promises. In its place was a hesitancy, a vulnerability that made him look ready to crumble if she stepped too close.

A part of her wanted to step closer. To hit him, to hold him, to shake him hard until answers fell out. Why did you damn our lives, why did you drag my babies away, why did you lead them to death and ruin? Why was our life not enough for you?

Why did you have to come back?

Why couldn’t you have stayed?

“I have brought your pots,” she said instead, her hands balled into fists.

“Thank you.” He spoke softly. That was new as well. No demands, no yelling. The fire that always shone in his speech had been dimmed. His eyes never once left her face, as though trying to memorize every tiny detail. “Is your father well?”

“Yes,” said Nerdanel, surprised that he would care enough to ask. “I told him I wanted to see you. Alone.”

Fëanor’s eyes became bright, his lips turning into a smile. “I have wanted to see you as well.”

Of all the things to say! The nerve of him to throw that at her, after everything! “You left,” she said, daring him to argue back, to start a fight.

He did not take the bait. “Yes.”

“You took our sons.”

“Yes.”

“They are dead.” The grief of it tore at her, the thought of all her babies lying dead and broken, or burnt to ashes, or drowned alone in cold, faraway waters. “All of them are dead, and so were you.”

“I am sorry,” he said, and even in her anger she knew that he meant it. “I did not want to come back without them.”

“Are they - ” Nerdanel turned away, suddenly unable to look at him. Do not break, not now, not when your pride is all you have left. “Are they well, in Mandos? Or did you damn our children to eternal darkness?”

“They are in the Halls,” he said. “They are no longer in any danger or pain.”

Nerdanel nodded, her mouth pressed into a thin, hard line. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, a pain so deep in her heart that it nearly knocked her to her knees. My three middle ones slain at Doriath, my youngest two cut down in Sirion, my beautiful eldest jumped into fire, my sweet little singer lost to the sea - and my husband - my damn husband nothing but ashes -

Fëanor reached for her hand. “Nerdanel - ”

She jerked away. It was his fault, after all, that her babies were dead. “Your pots are this way,” she said, and led him to the cart.

[ryuichirou]

What are your Hc's on Rook and Vil's First time? Or how their relationship changed when Rook Transferred?

We got this ask about two weeks ago after this comic, and I’m probably going to contradict myself once again, because with RookVil (…and every other ship of ours honestly) there is a million of “but what if their first time went like this? Or like this? Or like this?”, so consider this post just one of many many possible scenarios. I really like it when these two get passionate about each other, and I’m sure this is nothing new for you lol

Thank you for your question, and sorry for the wait! You might have noticed already, but we did a big hc post about everyone’s (possible) first times, so you can read that one too, if you want.

The majority of these ended up being about their first time, but I also mentioned how their relationship changed (…or didn’t change) after Rook’s transfer. A little bit.

Alright, without further ado.

Vil seems like someone who is just naturally confident and experienced in every field, but he was actually very careful about his first time and not jumping into things that he can’t handle…  or at least this is what Rook thought; otherwise he would have jumped Vil after one of their very first meetings. Because he desired Vil from the very beginning, before Vil even considered him worthy of his attention. So Rook actually had a lot of moments when he had to stop himself, like a very patient hunter who hasn’t quite tamed the wild animal yet (wait why would a hunter tame- nvm)

The thing is, although Vil really is very careful and wanted his first time to happen with someone he really likes, the tension between him and Rook got so strong so quickly that Vil almost became the impatient one. He was conflicted because his mind told him that he should wait a little longer, but his body was driving him crazy. Or it was Rook who was driving his body crazy… anyways, their makeout sessions became too intense and started to involve a lot of touching and even some restless humping. Vil is embarrassed of the way they acted back then to this day.

There are a lot of scenarios, but for some reason I almost always think that it happened in Vil’s room. Which isn’t the most private place because Vil didn’t have his own room back then. Because of that they also couldn’t take their sweet time with that. Rook was saying something about the queen deserving the best treatment and the longest foreplay, but the queen was nervously staring at the door and telling Rook to hurry. But when the intercourse itself finally happened, Vil couldn’t think about anything anymore, so all his nervousness went away~

Rook also couldn’t enter Vil fully during their first time, obviously. He ended up being bigger than Vil anticipated, even though Vil tried to prepare himself for anything: he did see Rook’s bulge a couple of times and knew it would be big, but. Another thing to get better at and work on in the future~

A couple of very specific things that Rook remembers from their first time: the way Vil looked at him when he undressed, the way Vil grabbed his dick to hurry him up, the way Vil whimpered when Rook entered and then bit him.

A couple of very specific things that Vil remembers from their first time: the way Rook’s fingers felt on his skin (too rough…), the way he couldn’t predict where Rook would kiss him next, the way Rook lay on top of him and made him realise just how heavy he is.

Vil really surprised Rook because he didn’t expect him to be this eager. He really thought that Vil would be more uncertain… and this is probably what enabled Rook to instantly forget about his initial plan to treat Vil like a pillow princess, so Rook’s wild horny nature (something that he meant  to reveal a bit later) was set free and could never be contained again lol But it’s not entirely Vil’s fault – Rook seriously underestimated his own hunger. He was way too intense for the first time and left a lot of marks all over Vil’s body.

…but not nearly enough to keep himself  fed, so after that they started to have sex and making out pretty much all the time. One would think that finally banging each other would pacify them a little… But even though Vil was initially hesitant about Rook joining Pomefiore, it made it easier for them to sneak away to have a quickie a couple of times per day. Like I already said, Vil is very very embarrassed of this period and is very happy that the majority of people that are currently in Pomefiore didn’t get to witness it, and those who did wouldn’t dare to mention it. Rook isn’t embarrassed of anything, he’d do it again if Vil let him~

Despite all that, they tried their best (well, Vil did) to keep their romance private, but it was still painfully obvious for everyone that they are enjoying their honeymoon phase, and it became even more obvious when Rook switched dorms. Like. Everyone knew why he did it, but Vil still spent some time trying to convince people that it wasn’t the case.

[midnightmorpher]

☀️🔔 The Chime of Gifts 🔔🌙

oh lord what is that title

Anyways! I needed a quick break from writing chapter 4 of “barging into your life” (I’m nearly done, but won’t be posting it until maybe 15th July?), so I decided to write what I hope to be a future scene in the story. Sorry it’s a little rushed at the end, I’m… pretty tired lol

It’s not necessarily going to play out exactly like this, but the core idea is there and I want to make it happen :3

⭐️ Context: You and Sun are working more or less peacefully with each other, you and Moon are getting along here. Starbite is a nickname they made for you: “Star” because duh, “Bite” because you’re bite-sized.

Guess who came up with which half of the nickname.

The last straw is when a piece of sundrop candy somehow found its way into your hair.

“Ick. Kids sure can be dang ninjas sometimes, eh?” you say to Sun as you soak the stick clump under running water, easing each strand out of the gooey sweet. “Looks like I’ll need to watch my back closer from now on.”

You hear a scoff from behind. “You think your eyes are the problem here? It’s not! Look at that rat’s nest on your head, I won’t be surprised if it swept up that sundrop all on its own.” He flicks a lock of your wavy hair into your eyes for emphasis.

“Oi, don’t do that,” you snap. The candy finally comes free and you chuck it into a nearby bin. “But… eh, that’s possible too. Whatever’s the case, I’ll just have to tie it up higher where it can’t touch anything, I guess.”

Your hair is essentially a veil-like mass of wavy keratin covering over half of your back, and you normally keep it tied up in a ponytail for convenience or leave it alone altogether. But you had underestimated the chaotic nature of thirty hyperactive children, so perhaps it’s time to upgrade to a hair bun instead…

A hand suddenly claps down on your shoulder. You squeak in surprise. “There’s no need for that!”

“Huh?”

Sun jabs a thumb at himself and puffs his chest out with pride. “Luckily for you, *I* happen to be a licensed hairstylist myself. I’ll help you tame that nest of yours, and even better, it will be free of charge! What do you say?”

You squint up at him, then at his lanky noodle-fingers. He’s dexterous, sure, but trusting his strength with hair that’s attached to your very delicate scalp? Eeeeeeh.

“That’s… That’s alright, buddy,” you say as you try to shuffle around him to the daycare doors. “But I’ve got it hand- Whoa!”

Your feet leaves the ground in an unpleasant lurch as Sun plucks you up around the waist without warning. It doesn’t hurt, but you still reflexively kick the person responsible. (Un)fortunately, your feeble human strength doesn’t make so much as a ding against Sun’s silicone-cased body.

“Sorry, I should have worded myself better! What I *meant* to say was, ‘You have no say in the matter and I *will* wrestle that unruly mess into a more acceptable style suited for the daycare if it’s the last thing I do’.” His lower eyelids pull up to match his smug smile, unfazed by how you squirm ineffectually in his grasp. “Does that clear things up for you?”

It’s clear that you’re not getting out of his one-handed grip *or* this situation any time soon, and you slump over dramatically in his fist. “Ugh, *fine*. Treat me like a baby, why don’t you.”

Sun wags his finger at you. “Ah, ah, ah. What did I say about accepting help from *friends?”*

*’Bloody hell.’* “That it’s rude to refuse,” you sigh.

“It’s rude to refuse for no good reason,” he corrects you. “But close enough, Starbite!”

His long legs allow him to stride over to the middle of the daycare in five easy steps, and you’re set down on the play mats with exceeding gentleness. The phantom sensations of his fingers buzz on your torso even when he releases you, and you hastily straighten out your uniform before he notices the growing warmth in your face.

“Now you sit your little self down there and wait while I go get a brush!”

Sun doesn’t give you a chance to respond before bounding off, a thick cable carting him off to his room high up in the castle prop. You plop down with a huff. *‘Honestly, what’s the point? I might as well get it chopped off if it’ll save the both of us the trouble,’* you grumble internally, even as you tug off the black tie keeping your hair up. Locks of hair spill over your shoulders.

Sun returns in no time at all, twirling a comically tiny wooden brush in between his fingers with deft movements befitting of a knife juggler. You don’t think it weird when he circles around to sit behind you - how else is he going to “style your hair”? - but the *sudden snapping of legs around the width of your crossed legs like a Venus flytrap* forces you to scooch backwards with haste, back thudding against a warm body. “Whoa, what the hell?!”

The back of the brush bops against your nose. “Language!”

“I’ll rephrase, then! What the *heck*,” you say, turning around to shoot Sun a frown. But it falters quickly when you realise just how close you are to him; your nose is practically brushing against his brightly-coloured chest, and you can feel the soft hums and vibrations of the machinery hidden beneath the soft silicone. “Um.”

“How else am I supposed to tame that mane of yours? You need to sit closer!” His lower eyelids pull up to complement the smug grin pulling at his mouth, and he leans over with an expression that you’d call almost *eager*. “Unless that bothers you?”

“It’s not that!”

His grin widens a smidge.

“It’s just that this *can’t* be an efficient position for hairstyling, dude. Aren’t you uncomfortable?” Surely Sun possessing arms nearly as long as yourself would make it easier to work at a distance.

… And there the grin goes, levelling into the flattest expression his face is physically capable of.

“… No,” he sulks. Why is he sulking? Isn’t he the one that wanted to do this in the first place? “Maybe your eyes *are* the problem here after all…”

Now you’re even more baffled. Is this even about your hair anymore?

“Never mind!” He turns your head back around to face forward, his grip on your temples firm but gentle, and you feel a pressure beginning to pull at your hair. You tense up, digging your nails into the denim material of your jeans in anticipation of the inevitably awful process of combing.

But that’s not what happens. He doesn’t immediately start dragging bristles through your hair; instead, you feel slender fingers card through your hair with a feather-light touch, methodical and rhythmic, only stopping when they hit a small tangle, which is swiftly dealt with a sharp tug. It stings, but only for a second.

This isn’t what you’d expected.

“At least you take good enough care of your hair,” you hear Sun sigh so close to your ear. Warmth bathes your back as he leans forward for a moment to comb back a stray lock of hair. “As surprising as it is.”

“‘Course I do.” You try to sound dismissive, but the brief contact just makes you sound breathless. Why did your heart flip just now? It’s not a *bad* feeling, just… different? It makes your insides squirm.

“Ha. Hard to believe when you treat regular meals as a suggestion.” You hear the sound of wood scraping against metal. “Lean forward a little.”

Alongside his instructions, you feel a palm wide enough to encompass most of your back push against you, and you comply, limiting your line of sight to Sun’s eye-watering pants and your own legs tightly tucked into a criss-crossed form. You purse your lips into a thin line when you feel plastic bristles press against your scalp, bracing yourself for the pain-

The hairbrush pulls through your hair.

You can’t hold back the surprised squeak that bubbles up your throat.

The brush stops mid-comb. “Does it hurt?” Sun asks.

“No! No, uh, continue. P-please.” You desperately hope he can’t detect the blush rising to the tips of your ears.

He hums, but thankfully doesn’t question you as he returns to running the brush through your hair. You can’t bring yourself to hate it no matter how hard you try; the shockingly delicate touch behind the repetitive brushes sends butterflies to your chest, making it difficult not to lean back and sink into the motion. It’s not an *un*pleasant feeling per se. Quite the opposite, really. You weren’t aware that having someone comb your hair for you can be anything *but* a torturous experience to sit through, until now.

When Sun sets the hairbrush aside after nearly a minute passes, you’re tempted to ask him to keep going.

“I’m going to start braiding your hair now, Starbite,” he announces, poking you in the ribs to get your attention. “Do you think you can *hold still* this time?”

Embarrassment momentarily overtaking your motor functions, you blurt out a flustered “No!”.

“Oh.” It makes you feel a little better about yourself that Sun sounds taken aback as well. “I see. Well, um… here you go, then.”

His left leg unfurls and crosses *over* your lap, and you realise that he’s offering you the poofiest part of his pants like it’s a plushie to distract you. Even worse, you find yourself seriously considering it.

*‘… Oh whatever. If Sun makes fun of me for this, I’ll just suck it up.’*

Mind made up, you wrap your arms around the offered leg and stuff your face into the soft material for good measure.

You hear Sun snort and mutter something intelligible, but any thoughts on it flies out of the window when you feel his fingers scratching against your scalp, gathering your hair in three separate bunches.

The sensation is more subtle, yet just as soothingly hypnotic as you feel each bunch being weaved around each other. The last dregs of tension bleeds out of your shoulders and you sink into the plush material under you, your eyelids getting oddly heavier by the second…

Maybe it won’t hurt to close them for a bit…

…

…

“All done!”

A hearty pat between your shoulder blades startles you awake. Awake? Shit. “I was sleeping?!” you gasp, scrambling to get off his plush leg as quickly as possible. You hear giggling behind you. “It’s not funny! Oh god, how long was I asleep? The daycare’s gonna open soon-“

A hand baps the top of your head, knocking you back onto your rear. You glower at Sun’s unrepentant grin.

“It’s been ten minutes, so take a breath, hm?” As he talks, Sun brushes loose strands of hair away and tucks them into your…

You pause. There’s a new weight at the back of your head, and when you reach around, you feel a tightly woven braid trailing down your back and ending with the black hair tie you normally use. The braiding technique is nothing special, but it’s something *new* and you’re entranced by it, running your fingers down the path of the individual dips and curves of each silky weave. You trace over something that doesn’t match your hair’s texture, and when you pull your new braid over your shoulder to take a look, you see a red ribbon intertwining in it like a bright streak of dye. A *familiar* red ribbon that ends with an equally familiar bell tied to the braid’s tail.

You shake it to make sure you’re not seeing things. Its pleasant jingle shatters that notion.

“Sun?”

“Yeeees?” Sun coos oh-so-innocently.

“This is your bell.”

“I’m aware.”

“Why? This-“ You catch yourself before you spit out something overtly rude. “I mean, thank you for the braiding, but why the bell?”

Sun’s face is unreadable for a moment, his sun rays turning *click-click-click* in a way that you know he’s deep in thought. Then they snap to a stop and he claps his hands together. “Because! I need *some* way to keep track of you, don’t I? With your special talent of getting lost in straight corridors-“

“That was one time!”

“-and inability to cry out for help-“

“I-I’ve been getting better at that, too!”

“-this will at least alert someone to your location if I can’t come fish you out in time.” Sun reaches around and dangles the bell under your nose. It rings loudly in the empty daycare. “I won’t be hearing any negotiation around this, either! It’s staying on no matter what!”

So in other words, it’s basically like you putting a bell on your cat, Muffin. You suppose any regular human will find this offensive, but you can’t bring yourself to say that when you see how carefully the ribbon is wound into your hair, imagine how Sun must have leaned over your back in deep concentration to tie the bell in your hair…

“Thanks, Sun,” you sigh, your ears flushing brightly. “For the braiding and the bell. It… it looks nice.”

Sun puffs up with pride. “Of course it turned out nice! *I’m* the one responsible for it, after all. Did you expect anything less?”

“Nah, that’s not it. Just…” You fiddle with the cold metal thoughtfully. “It’d be a shame to have to take this out at the end of the day. I don’t think I’ll be able to tie it the same way you do.”

Sun tilts his head to you with a knowing grin.

It’s obvious what he’s waiting for. “Do you think you can *help* me?” you ask, failing to smother the self-conscious grin tugging up your lips. “Please?”

“Oh, if you insist, then I’ll take time out of *my* busy, busy schedule to help you.” His long-suffering tone clashes with the gleeful glow in his eyes, as does the way he claps his hands together.

Your grin comes easier this time. “Thanks, Sun. I really appreciate it.”

His expression melts into something you don’t see often on him (*warm*) but he snaps out of it before you can dwell on it too much. He yells something about clean-up and dashes off to the craft tables while you follow hot on his heels, both sets of bells jingling in tandem with yours and Sun’s movements.

The topic of the bell mostly fades from the forefront of your mind, until Moon shows his mug late into the night.

You’re lingering around the cafeteria area, hours after your shift is supposed to have ended, waiting for Moon to arrive for your semi-regular “show and tell” session when you hear the telltale chime of a bell above your head. It takes you a moment to realise why it sounds weirdly echoey.

“Hullo, Moon,” you say to the figure descending from the ceiling. The mechanical whirr of unwinding cables precedes the twin red eyes illuminating the rest of his face, and he lands on the edge of the table with graceful precision, hunched just outside the light’s reach. “You ready for today? I got this book from my brother, it’s-”

Just as you turn to fetch it, an arm suddenly snakes out and snatches up your new braid with a harsh jangle. You freeze, eyes slowly travelling from the bell in your hair to his bare wrist. “Oh. Um. Do you like it? Sun offered, so…”

Moon doesn’t move an inch.

“I, um. This was a surprise to me, too! But it would’ve been rude to refuse, right?” His red gaze narrows at you, and worry starts to creep in your voice. “I-is this about your wrist bell? Did Sun not tell you he was giving this to me? Oh god, he didn’t, did he.” With cat-like footwork, he uses his cable to hop over your head and hover behind you, your braid still clutched in his hand. “MoOON!”

You try to pull it back, but a sharp tug forces your gaze to the table. You hear rustling fabric somewhere above your head. *‘He must be taking it back,’* you think. The notion saddens you a bit, but it *is* both Sun and Moon’s property to begin with. It’s their right to take it back anytime they-

Your braid suddenly slaps against your back with *twice* the weight than it first started. Moon circles back around to hunch before you again, eyelids pulled up in a mischievous gaze. “Eh?”

You pull the length of hair over your shoulder. At the end of it holds not one, not zero, but *two* sets of bells. You glance over to Moon, and his now bare wrists confirms the absurd reality you’re in right now.

“Moon?”

His head tilts with a questioning creak.

“First of all, thanks for scaring five years off my lifespan. Second, *why*.”

“Why what?” his raspy voice snickers back.

“You know what I mean! Why put another set of bells on me? One’s already enough to, er, call for Sun’s attention if I need help. I don’t need *two*.”

Oddly enough, the mention of Sun puts a definitively sour note in Moon’s grin. “… Naughty.”

You falter. “I’m sorry?”

“Sun. Naughty, naughty little *liar* misleading Starbite.”

“Liar? As in, he’s lying about why he gave it to me?”

He shuffles closer to you, grin widening a tick.

“I’ll… take that as a ‘yes’. But again, *why* the lying? Why give me the bells at all?” you ask, frustration leaking into your words.

Moon’s body shakes with silent laughter, completely unfazed by your scowl. “Sun’s a scaredy-cat~” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Oh, *is* he now.” You prop your elbows on the table and lean closer, eyebrows raising. “Okay then, why did *you* stick bells on me?”

“A gift.”

The lack of hesitation takes you off guard. “O-oh. Um. That’s… What’s the occasion?” Did you forget your birthday again?

“As thank you,” Moon says simply, any signs of mischief fading for a moment. “For staying behind to see me, and for bringing me new things to see everyday.”

Your jaw drops. “Seriously? You gave me something this important for a couple of books? Moon, it’s really no big deal, I *wanted* to do this. You didn’t have to-“

His eyes narrow into warning slits.

You try to protest some more, but all of your arguments die a pathetic death in the face of Moon’s stoic stare. “*Alright*, I get it, you can stop looking at me like that.” You fiddle with your braided hair, and the gentle chime spurs you to blurt out, “Thank you, I-I’ll take care of it. Promise.”

The warm glow in your chest spikes up to your face. If Moon’s spontaneous bout of giggles is anything to go by, it’s very noticeable. “Well, um! What about Sun? I don’t remember doing anything for him, so what’s his deal, huh?” you babble, the heat in your face growing worse by the second.

His grin turns absolutely predatory.

��Is he talking to you now?” you ask.

“Yes. Insists he did *not* mean it as a gift, and it is *not* for being so kind and patient with him for all these weeks.” If words could be eye-rolls, Moon’s would have popped out of their sockets by now. “Whatever you think he’s saying, it’s *not* that. His words, pinky promise.”

It’s so stupid. So stupid in fact, that you can’t hold back the belly laugh bubbling out of your mouth, and you hide your face before Moon can have more ammo to tease you with. “Oh my *god*,” you two are going to be the death of me,” you mumble into your hands. “But… thank you.”

You can hear Moon’s systems rumbling like a cat’s purr. You don’t see any outward reaction from Sun, but if you had to guess, it’d be a lot of huffing and puffing about making sure to take good care of your presents.

“Alright, enough of that.” You pull out the book from your bag. “Let’s get on with this so that you can start your patrols soon.”

The night passes by more or less as usual, with the exception of the comforting weight that accompanies you all the way back to your apartment. It’s almost like you have a piece of Sun and Moon with you…

When you go to bed, you make sure to carefully set both bells on your bedside table, where you’ll see them first thing in the morning. “Night,” you whisper before rolling over in bed, sleep overtaking you.