#and that sometimes ends up with him hurting himself and others

[moviecritc]

✦ ˚ : · PIERCING THROUGH THE HEART · : ˚✦

pairing ☆ roy harper x fem!reader

word count ☆ 1.5K

summary ☆ out of boredom, you conviced roy to let you give him a piercing

warnings ☆ none

main masterlist | letterboxd

Roy still remembered perfectly the first time you took off your mask —the one that covered your entire face— to reveal your identity to the rest of the Titans. His jaw had dropped slightly. Not just because you were gorgeous, but because you were covered in jewelry. A brow piercing, a silver septum ring, a hoop on your lip, and both ears stacked with piercings in a perfect arrangement, with earrings of different colors and shapes.

You were one of the coolest people he’d ever met. Your sense of humor always made him laugh out loud, you executed your part of the missions flawlessly, and although you sometimes came off a bit distant, whenever you were with Roy, you showed a warmth that completely disarmed him. That mix of mystery and sincerity had him utterly fascinated.

Roy wasn’t exactly sure when the affection he felt for you had gotten out of hand, but he was starting to realize he was looking at you differently. And it didn’t help that you always showed up with those impossible outfits and that attitude like the entire world belonged to you by natural right.

Sometimes, when you were training together in the Titans' training room, he'd find himself watching you a bit too long. He tried to play it off, of course. Or at least he thought he did. But Dick had already elbowed him a couple of times meaningfully, and Kory looked at him with a smile like she knew everything.

Now you had the tower all to yourselves, the rest of the team busy with different missions or personal matters. You’d spent the morning training, making fun of each other, then figuring out how to cook the simplest thing, only to end up ordering takeout.

That night, you both collapsed onto the couch, food on your laps, a movie playing in the background. It was bad. Really bad. The kind that isn’t even funny because of how bad it is. But it didn’t matter. You were comfortable. So was Roy.

Or at least, you both were until you'd been shifting side to side for about twenty minutes, sighing, turning toward him.

"I'm bored," you finally said, letting your head drop onto his shoulder.

Roy smiled without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Yeah, well, the script is a crime."

"I'm not talking about the movie. I mean everything. Bored of not doing anything."

Roy turned his head slightly toward you, just enough to meet your gaze a few inches away.

"You wanna do something?"

Your eyes sparkled with that mischievous expression he already knew meant danger.

"Can I give you a piercing?"

Roy blinked, clearly expecting something else.

"Sorry?"

"A piercing," you repeated naturally. "I’ve got my kit. All clean. All sterilized. I’ve practiced a million times."

You gestured at your rows of piercings. Roy blinked again, he had tattoos, several scars, but it had never occurred to him to get a piercing.

"You did those piercings yourself?" was all he asked, slightly frowning.

You nodded enthusiastically, clearly proud.

"All of them. Well, except the industrial," you said, raising an eyebrow slightly like it was a trophy. "That one hurt like hell. But the rest? Nothing compared to what we do."

Roy stared at you. Your relaxed expression, the way your fingers played with one of your earrings. The heat creeping up his neck wasn’t just from the idea of the piercing, it was from you. From how close you were. From how casually intimate the conversation had become.

"And what kind of piercing do you want to give me?" he asked, a mix of suspicion and curiosity in his voice.

"A small one," you said, sitting on your knees and looking at him more intently. "A hoop on your ear. No big deal. Won’t hurt. And it’s going to look amazing."

Roy hesitated. You were too close. He was feeling too much. But then you did it.

You smiled. That smile of yours that was a little cocky, a little sweet, and he felt all the air in the room collapse into his chest.

"Come on. If you don’t like it, it’ll close in a few weeks."

He felt stupid for taking so long to nod.

Twenty minutes later, you were in your room, sitting across from each other, your tools perfectly laid out on the table. He was trying to stay relaxed, but the way you were so focused, so close, with your cold fingers touching his ear, his pulse was through the roof.

"Which ear do you want it on?" you asked after picking the hoop.

"Which one is the gay ear? I want it the other one," he said completely seriously, like he was making a public statement.

You stared at him in silence for a second. Blinked once. Twice. Then burst out laughing.

"What?" you said, leaning back in laughter. "Did you seriously just say that? What year are you living in, Roy Harper?"

Roy shrugged, half-smiling, with that embarrassed sparkle in his eyes he got when he knew he’d said something dumb but wanted to keep a little dignity.

"I just wanted to avoid any misunderstandings."

"Sweetheart, if someone looks at you because of this piercing, it won’t be a misunderstanding."

You kept laughing as you leaned in again, grabbing his face to examine his ears, unable to hide your amused smirk.

"You're such an idiot sometimes," you whispered with a smile that hit him like a punch to the heart.

"And you're laughing too much," he retorted, raising his eyebrows. "You gonna pierce me or not?"

You rolled your eyes and moved closer, standing between his legs while he remained seated in the chair. You put on the gloves, cleaned the area with soft movements, and even though Roy was trying not to show it, his chest was rising and falling harder than usual.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t pain.

It was that you were so close. That your fingers brushed him so delicately. That you focused on him with so much care it felt like… like he was truly being seen. Like no one had ever touched him with that kind of intention before.

"You’re going to feel a little pinch," you whispered, as if that could prepare him.

"Go for it."

And you did. Precise. Fast. Silent.

Roy barely flinched, surprised at how little it hurt. But even more surprised by how you leaned in right after, checking the hoop with your fingers.

"You look… fucking good," you murmured. Your voice had dropped an octave. Your eyes locked onto his. Your hand still resting on his cheek.

Roy didn’t say anything.

He just looked at you.

Like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you in a different light, with a different truth. His pupils dilated, his breathing slow. His eyes so wide, so soft, that for a second, even you froze.

"What?" you asked, almost in a whisper, suddenly shy under that intensity.

Roy swallowed.

"I’ve always liked that you have so many piercings, you know?" he said without thinking too much. He hadn’t even looked at his own yet. "I like the one on your lip."

The redhead gestured shyly toward your lip, pulling his hand back before touching you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Although… doesn’t it get in the way when you kiss someone?"

You raised an eyebrow, not backing off.

"You wanna find out for yourself?"

Silence. You could practically hear his heartbeat. Roy looked you in the eye. Then down to your mouth.

He didn’t respond with words. You were so close, your lips so temptingly near his, that all he could do was nod slightly, as if that were enough to give the universe permission for it to happen.

And you kissed him.

Softly at first, barely a brush, like giving him the chance to back out. But he didn’t. On the contrary, he leaned into it, held your waist with one hand, the other still trembling slightly from gripping the chair as you came closer.

The kiss deepened, slower, loaded with a tension that had built over time and now, finally unraveling, felt endless. Roy wasn’t sure if it was the heat of your mouth or the cold metal of your piercing against his lips, but something in him had ignited like gasoline near a flame.

When you pulled back, only a few centimeters, breathing like it was hard to come back from the moment, Roy looked at you with a mix of disbelief and desire.

"Yup, doesn’t get in the way at all," Roy said, like he’d just confirmed a theory.

You looked down, a little flushed, and as Roy leaned in again, you put both hands on his jaw and turned him toward the mirror. "You like the piercing?"

Roy barely looked at it for a second, of course he liked it. You’d done it.

"I love it. I’m halfway to being as cool as you."

You let out a soft laugh, the one you used when you were too close to taking something seriously but still wanted to play. You stared at him through the mirror with an expression that was a dangerous mix of sweetness and mischief.

"I’m not as cool as you think," you said with a dumb little smile.

"Well, for me, yes, baby," Roy shot back, pulling you closer between his legs. "You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met."

For a second, you didn’t know what to say. That comment caught you off guard. Because people knew you for being sarcastic, for your punk aesthetic, for not letting anyone get too close. But Roy always found a way to see through the smoke.

"You’re so silly," you said, running a hand through his hair. "How long have you liked me?"

"I’m not gonna answer that," Roy started. "’Cause it was embarrassingly soon."

[coquettepascal]

better than pregnant!

summary: you're about to get your period and hesitant to freak because of it. joel does not gaf and needs to get freaky with his beautiful girl. 

tags: 18+, smut, p no plot, established relationship, post-outbreak, jackson!joel, kind of not really period sex, thigh fucking, misuse of baby oil, reader is afab, use of "good girl," joel is a freak and he likes to freak you, humping i guess, cuteness at the end somewhat, yay for no babies.

a/n: drabble i wrote in under an hour because i really wanted to write a fic today but it's so hot that i'm dying and someone should kill me.

my masterlist - askbox

wc: 1.4k unedited no beta

“Are you sure? It might mess up the bedsheets,” you ask softly. Joel sighs and you feel it against your back, the puff of his chest pressing into you. He’s holding you from behind with his pajama pants rucked halfway down his legs. You lost your pajama shorts somewhere along the way, as well as your undies. 

You’re days, or maybe even a day, away from getting your period, and you’ve been super clingy. Sometimes your cycle comes and goes without issue, the only symptom being the fact you’re bleeding. But other times, like now, you’re achey, emotional, and frustratingly aroused. All night you’ve been laying in different positions in an attempt to soothe the pain that’s braided itself into your spine, only to find the warmth of Joel’s chest soothes it best. Joel could care less about your grouchiness though, he’s just happy to hold you. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s about to get his dick wet (kind of.)

“Baby you ain’t even on it yet,” he reminds you quietly. You watch his hands as they pop open the ancient bottle of baby oil, pouring it into his palm. Joel’s leg nudges yours and you shyly open your legs clamshell style. His hand cups you first, careful not to slide his fingers too deep into your slit. You’re sensitive in many ways right now, he doesn’t want to upset you or overstimulate you. 

“There you go. Just some oil, right? You wanna make me feel good?” 

His voice is quiet as he talks, pulling his hand away so he can pour more oil into his palm. Now he lathers your inner thighs with it, all while he presses kisses into the back of your neck. “So soft,” he says to himself, squeezing the plush inner of your left thigh. Joel truly adores you. He runs his hand up, cupping your core again, and you feel his erection throb against your lower back where it’s pressed. 

Breathing is tough as your chest shakes with need and anxiety. You’ve never done anything like this, not on your cycle, and so it feels… scary. Part of you wants to go “but what if you get blood on you?” But that’s never really been a problem for Joel, not as long as you’ve known him. It’s also probably a dumb question to ask when he’s already throbbing and half naked. Duh, he wants this. 

“You with me?” He asks as he shifts down the bed. Part of you feels a little distant right now, fascinated by the fact he’s so willing to do this with you. Staying grounded is difficult when the most attractive guy you know is about to stick his dick between your thighs and rut into the softness there, but you manage. You keep your eyes trained on the window, taking soft breaths, and Joel waits until you can confidently answer.

“Mhm,” is what you manage. Your hand comes up and reaches for the one near your head, attached to the arm that’s snaked beneath your neck. He squeezes it reassuringly, then readjusts. 

“Gonna use you nice,” is all you get to hear before his dick is shoved between your thighs. Joel’s pushing into the oiled softness with vigor, like he’s the one who’s sexually frustrated and unable to get fucked. You can see the head of his cock barely peek out with each thrust, watching as a sticky pearl of precome suddenly disappears as he plunges in and out. Joel is groaning, the arm wrapped around your torso grasping at anywhere but your tits, since he knows how sensitive they are right now. He keeps trying to talk but he can’t quite catch his breath. His face drops into the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing heavily out of his nose and onto your skin.

“Good girl, fuck,” he curses softly. The arm tucked beneath your head suddenly is yanked away as Joel uses it to prop himself up. This changes his angle signficantly, and instead of fucking into your thighs and just grazing your cunt, he’s fucking the head of his cock up into your slit. The tip awkwardly bashes your swollen clit at first and you whine in annoyance. He’s quick to catch on and eases his movements.

“Like that, Joel, that’s– mmh!” You cover your face with your hands. It’s so difficult to try and be sexy or dirty when you fear that you’re bleeding all over him. You know he’s going to pick up on it if you keep talking, so you just shut up. 

“Yeah babygirl? Like this?” He asks, grinding his hips up. His tip feels like it’s making out with your clit now. The sensitive nerves are slathered in a mixture of your wetness, his precome, and the babyoil, and it’s making for a deliciously slick mess. Joel pumps at a quick pace, remaining mindful of your sensitivity, but his energy and words are almost rabid.

“Makin’ me crazy earlier, kissin’ on me in the kitchen and then makin’ me sit through dinner.”

Oh, maybe that’s why he’s being so ravenous. 

“Thinkin’ that being near your period is gonna make me keep my hands off you.”

Blood rushes to the tips of your ears at that. It’s so easy to forget that Joel finds you sexy, not just beautiful. Here in bed it’s easy to remember. The way he’s desperately fucking his dick into your legs is more than enough proof that he is desperately attracted to you. Joel’s teeth press into your neck in slight hesitation, knowing he shouldn’t be too rough, but he lets them drag across your skin. 

“So fuckin’ wet, I can tell that isn’t just the oil.” Your cunt clenches on nothing as he talks more. Joel is such a fucking talker, you wish he spoke this much outside of the bedroom sometimes. Maybe he’s just a pervert though and that’s why he’s so quiet.

Your mouth opens slightly and drool starts to leak out as he becomes more intentful with his thrusts. He’s purposefully grinding the head of his dick into your clit at the end of each thrust. You can feel the thickness of his dick rubbing down your sensitive slit each time he’s done grinding and it only holds you in anticipation. Surprised noises keep leaving you, as if you’re not aware of the insatiable man behind you. It feels so much different than the usual sex that you have with him, it feels like he wants to ravage you, take you apart. 

“This take your mind off your back pain, baby? Just needed my dick?”

Your head nods weakly and you start to whine “yes,” repeatedly. It isn’t wrong, you have no clue if your back is hurting anymore, not when you’re right on the cusp of an orgasm. 

Joel’s nose is tucked behind your ear now, ensuring that you hear all the filth he’s spewing. Everything is so wet now, even your ass is somehow wet. His hips snap into you relentlessly as he starts to ask if you’re close and you have no words to answer. You’re beginning to get so wet you can’t feel anything at all, but finally he pushes at just the right angle and the ridge of his tip drags over your clit, sending you over. You gasp desperately, grabbing at the pillow beside your head as your body seizes up, shivering. Your thighs clamp down hard around Joel’s cock, sending him over too. The first spurts of come spill out from between your thighs, but then he pulls back and shoves himself back against your slit. His dick throbs as it coats your cunt in hot come, and your clit throbs right back against his tip. 

“Good, good girl,” Joel grunts as his arm collapses back into the bed. He lays back down on his side, careful not to move too much. There’s a lot of mess on the bed already, he doesn’t want to clean anymore than he’ll already have to. 

“Your back still hurt?” He asks after a moment. Back to sweet and caring, as if he wasn’t just a totally dirty mouthed perv. 

“No. Might need a shower though,” you tease. Joel huffs slightly, amused.

“Uh-huh. Me too.”

Joel pulls away from you very carefully, hissing as he grows soft and sensitive. You look over your shoulder cautiously, praying you don’t see red. 

One thin line of red is smeared on his shaft. You look up at him apologetically right away, but he’s smiling. 

“What? Are you laughing at me?” You ask worriedly. Your lungs feel small as you try to breathe away embarrassment. 

“No,” Joel grins, “S’just that this is better’n you being pregnant.”

--- <3 --- yayy thank u for reading. tagging some of my faves @evolnoomym @pascalssbabyy @mochamadeleines @joeloverture

[misunhye]

End of Beginning

characters kang sunhye (misun), mark lee, manager seolhee, mentions of jaemin/other staff

words 5.1k

warnings sexualization of a minor (by the public), mentions of hate & death threats

2017

“I’m so tired, Mark,” the words are practically being slurred out of Misun’s mouth that he can hardly understand her. Her room is dark, not even her night light is on because she whined that it was hurting her eyes. Mark even unplugged her alarm clock so it wouldn’t light up with the numbers. She’s laying on her side in her bed, facing the wall. Mark is on his back next to her, laying on top of the black duvet that she is hidden under. She didn’t ask him to come in here, he just did without a word.

It seemed to be a reoccurring thing— Mark would notice that something was off and would come sit with her when she was finally alone. It didn’t matter if she holed herself up in a practice room or locked herself in her room. She didn’t know how he could tell, and she didn’t know if she wanted to know, either.

“I know,” he says quietly, staring up at nothing in particular. His hands are behind his head, foot repeatedly moving side to side. He has been moving non stop for two days straight, having schedules for both NCT Dream and NCT 127. She didn’t know how he was still functioning and not falling asleep on himself. Thirteen-year-old Misun would be silently gushing over how mentally strong he is, and well, sixteen-year-old Misun wasn’t too shy to sing Mark praises now.

“We should petition for a day off,” she continues to mutter into her pillow, the only other noise being her box fan on the other side of the room. “I vote for just sleeping.”

“That’d be nice,” he responds, but Misun doesn’t like the way he sounds. It’s choked out, like he’s about to cry, but Misun doesn’t know what to do when people cry. She blames it on her mother never comforting her when she cried, so she never learned what to say. Her heart clenches in her chest, though, aching at the thought of Mark being upset. She doesn’t look over her shoulder, but she freezes. Her hand curls into a fist of her blanket, pulling it further over her shoulder. Should she comfort him? Grab his hand?

“Mark,” she says again, and he hums in response. She hesitates for a long minute, picking up the courage to ask before asking, “Do you ever wish you weren’t an idol?”

The room shifts with the question, and she suddenly regrets asking the question. It’s too much, too deep— what if he thought wrongly about her? That she was regretting debuting? She liked her members, they’ve been her friends for years and she couldn’t imagine not being by their side and them at hers— but she hated the way people treated her. She’s about to take it back, maybe tell him to forget it, when he finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Sometimes I do.” Her mouth dries, the answer surprising her. “I used to feel guilty about it,” he continues, voice low. “Like . . . how could I complain? This is what I worked hard for— all those sleepless nights before monthly evaluations. I made it. It’s what people dream about. But some nights, I close my eyes and wonder what it’d feel like to disappear.”

Misun flips over, meeting Mark’s eyes in the darkness. Her heart pounds in her chest, mind running with all sorts of thoughts, “Disappear?” she echoes quietly.

He can see the slight sheen over her eyes, even in the darkness. “Not permanently,” he says quickly. “Just . . . . go somewhere where it’s not possible for anyone to recognize me. Still be Mark, just not NCT’s Mark Lee, you know?”

A sick sense of relief fills her body. She doesn’t wish this feeling on Mark, Mark of everyone, because he doesn’t deserve it. She wanted an answer, to know if she made the right choice— to know if she wasn’t alone in this. She was beginning to dislike being in the eye of the public, beginning to dislike the-so-called fans that called her every name under the sun. She hated the obsessive fans who followed her around— whether they claimed to support her or not. She hated having to get up early, even if she couldn’t work past ten at night because of the law. If Mark, of all people, believed the same as her… Mark, who always wanted to be an idol, who does the most out of all of them only a year in his debut. He was overworked, overwhelmed all the time, but he never showed it— never got angry at the members for things out of their control, never became so depressed all he did was sink into the couch and never move. He wasn’t like her mother, who disappointed Misun more times than she could count. He was always there, and never failed to support her. He had every right to be tired.

Misun realizes she hasn’t responded yet and quietly says, “Yeah. I know.”

He shifts, turning his head toward her, even though there’s only a few inches between them, “Do . . . do you feel like that?”

Misun’s breath hitches, caught slightly off guard, eyes darting away from him. Mark had given her the truth, so why shouldn’t she? She was just afraid his reaction would still be bad. “Yeah,” she admits in a whisper, like someone is listening outside the door, “I’m tired. I just . . . I love being with you guys and performing, but everyone else’s reactions to me . . .” Her bottom lip trembles, no matter how much she tries to hide it. “I hate that it’s this way. I hate that I’m bringing negative attention to us. I wish people liked me.”

Mark’s expression softens, his eyes never leaving her face even as hers turn away to hide from him. The way her voice trembles—how raw and small she sounds—it twists something in his chest.

He doesn’t want to leave her in silence for too long, so he quickly replies, “I do.”

Misun blinks, confused, “You do what?”

“I like you,” he clarifies, voice steady but sending Misun’s pulse skyrocketing, “There’s so many people who like you, Sunny. The people that actually know you like you yet the ones that don’t are the ones who don’t. I think that says something more about them than it does you.”

Misun blinks again, “Oh. Thanks.”

Mark can’t help but crack a smile, “You’re welcome.” His smile then slightly fades, “You know . . . Sunny, I really wish I could help with the hate. I—After knowing you so many years, I’ve grown protective over you, like you’re the sister I’ve never had. I wish I could protect you.”

She’s no longer looking at him, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. Is this what their conversation has come to? Ruining her childhood dreams? Not like she didn’t already know that, but still. With her brows furrowed, she contemplates what to say next, “You do protect me, though.” She glances at him for a split second, noting how his brows raise in confusion, “Do you think I don’t see how you always put me in the middle of the group when we’re out in public? So no one can touch me or push me like they did?”

“I didn’t know you noticed that,” Mark whispers, brows furrowing as he thinks back. “I tried to be subtle about it . . . I know you don’t like us worrying about you, especially ‘making a big deal’ about it, like I knew you’d say. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“Some things are necessary,” she shrugs, not denying any of his words. She wasn’t used to people paying enough attention to her to worry about her, and to the rest of her members, and even the older members in 127, her being the only girl and one of the youngest was enough to worry them. If all of them were in the same room, there were always at least three pairs of eyes on her at all times. It was annoying at first, but as time went on and more things happened, she understood why they did it. It made her feel as safe as she could, knowing that there were also bodyguards, but she also knew that they couldn’t be around all the time.

“I hate that they are,” Mark says, and she turns her head to look over at him. She swears the distance between them has somehow shrunk. Did she move or did he? Their faces were close—close enough she could even see the moles on his eyelid and bottom lip, count his eyelashes if she dared to. She doesn’t. He continues, blissfully unaware of her internal conflict, “I know you think you have to be quiet whenever we’re in public or doing variety shows, but you don’t have to tone yourself down for anyone. Don’t let anyone try to tell you that, even the company.”

Misun frowns, “But the company said my role is to—”

“You’re not happy pretending to be someone you’re not,” he says, effectively silencing her. “You’re more than enough as you are. I like who you are.”

Her lips part slightly, but no words come. They’re staring at each other, still not moving, before she swallows, “I wish I knew who I was. I’ve spent so long. . . trying to be what everyone wanted me to be all at once. My mother . . .” She hesitates, before continuing, “Her. SM, the perfect princess. I don’t feel like I have control of my life anymore.” Her brows furrow, “I don’t think I ever did.”

Mark doesn’t speak right away, he just watches her. The softness in his eyes makes her chest tighten. She’s said too much. She shouldn’t have brought up her mother. She shouldn’t have opened that door when there’s so many things she’s failed to explain in the past. Failed to explain why her mother was never around and when she promised to, she still bailed. Failed to explain why she never talked about her. It’s been nearly four years since most of them have met her, and they still don’t really know anything. She can’t blame them if they’re angry— she’s supposed to trust them, and she does, but how do you explain that your mother— who was once an idol— is an addict that only manipulates and lies? That she’s the one person Misun is supposed to trust the most in the world, but she can’t.

“I know the real you,” he whispers. “I know the little girl—“ she rolls her eyes at that, and he smiles slightly, “—I met that picked on me so much I thought she hated me. I know the girl that caught me up on everything I missed when I wasn’t in Korea, who helped me with the choreos even when it was getting past midnight. I know the girl that feels everything too much, that even when she claimed to hate someone, she comforted him after she was the one who almost died.”

“I didn’t almost die,” she sighs, cutting him off, “I just had a panic attack.”

“I’m not finished,” Mark raises his brows. “I know the girl that remembers everyone’s favorites when she doesn’t even remember to feed herself sometimes. I know the girl that makes sure Chenle and Jisung are safe, because she feels like they’re her responsibility. I know the girl that barely let anyone shake her hand let alone hand her anything the first couple of months of training, but now leans into any touch.”

Misun’s frozen, not looking at him anymore. Her grip on the blanket is tight, and he can see the way her chest rises unevenly, like she’s holding back tears.

“You’re not your mom,” he says, and it’s soft and reassuring, “You’re not what SM wants you to be. And that’s OK. You’re you. The only reason we can keep it together on bad days.”

She laughs weakly, “That’s a little dramatic.”

“I’m not joking,” he replies seriously. “You think we don’t see how you check in on everyone before you let yourself fall apart? Alone, where no one can see you?”

“I’m not trying to be dramatic,” she says quickly, heart pounding at the sudden new information. She didn’t know he knew, there was a reason she was trying to hide it all from them.

“You’re not,” he shakes his head slowly. He doesn’t say anything for a moment before saying, “I don’t want you to deal with this alone anymore.”

She stares at him, speechless as her eyes sting. She clears her throat, throat still feeling like it’s tightening, but she still doesn’t know how to respond. How do you respond to something like that?

When Mark sees that she’s not going to respond, he continues, “You think you have to handle everything by yourself. Like, like if you let someone in and they help you, it means you’re failing. But you’re not. You’re not failing, Sunhye. Needing help doesn’t make you any less of an idol than the rest of us.” He pauses, making sure she’s looking him in the eyes now, “I need help sometimes, too, you know?”

She frowns, not liking the idea of him feeling helpless, “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” When he shakes his head, her frown deepens. “What? When?” She eyes him, “You never come to me.”

He smiles slightly, but there’s nothing really amusing about the conversation, “Neither do you.” When she doesn’t say anything, he continues, “I don’t come to you because I don’t want to burden you—” her mouth drops open in shock, quickly going to tell him that he’s not a burden, but he stops her, “Hold on, I’m not done. You already have enough on your plate, I can see that. I didn’t want to make it worse by having you worry about me, too.”

Misun stares at him incredulously, before huffing, “You’re not a burden, Mark. Gosh, I can’t believe you’d really say that,” she scoffs at him, shaking her head. “Where’d you get that dumb idea in your head?”

Mark tilts his head, “Probably from spending too much time with you. My thoughts started to reflect yours.”

Misun sighs, glancing away from him, “Maybe we are more alike than we think.”

He smiles softly, nodding slowly, “Yeah.” He continues staring at her, making her side-eye him, wanting him to stop, but he doesn’t.

“Stop,” she mutters, “I don’t like that.”

“Like what?”

She doesn’t exactly want to tell him it aloud, so she deflects, “You know. Do as I say, not as I do,” she stares at him blankly, “I’m clearly not a good example to follow.”

“Then how about we make a promise?” He suggests, and when she gestures for him to go on, he does. “I won’t hide anything from you, and you won’t hide anything from me. We go to each other when we need help. We’re a team, we lean on each other.”

Her heart feels warm at his words, biting down on her bottom lip. She’s glad it’s dark in her room. It’s not lost on her that this entire time, they’ve still been mostly talking about her and he hasn’t said anything about himself, but she drops it. For now. She nods once, tension leaving her shoulders with an exhale, “OK.”

Mark holds out his pinky and she rolls her eyes, but is smiling as she links hers around his. He glances over at her, “You don’t have to pretend with me, OK?” It’s so simple, not even a big confession or anything, but it means a lot more to her than he realizes.

She stares at him with parted lips, before nodding again, whispering again, “OK.”

They both settle into a quiet stillness again. And this time, when Misun closes her eyes, it’s not out of exhaustion, but relief.

With the end of We Young promotions, Misun was back to being left to her own devices. Jaemin was staying at his mom’s apartment for a couple of weeks, and would be back a couple days after their schedules ended. Mark and Haechan were attending a NCT 127 schedule while the others were either asleep in their beds or holed up in their rooms. Misun wished that was what she was doing right now.

When she woke up this morning, she had a text message from her manager, Seolhee. It was to inform her that the management team wanted to talk to her as soon as possible. Her heart sank to her stomach the moment she finished reading, inhaling shakily. She could only imagine what they wanted to say to her.

Maybe it was the usual— “You have to keep up with the boys, Misun, or else this won’t work.” or “You have to prove your way, just like everyone else.” or “Not everyone will like you, so you have to learn to deal with it.” when she had the audacity to complain about the hate she was getting online and how the company wouldn’t do anything about it. But the words being said about her wasn’t just dislike— it was full on hatred.

She could take criticism— she’d been taking it her entire life from her own mother, she could handle it from faceless nobodies on the Internet. What she couldn’t take was the insults of her appearance, calling her all sorts of degrading names, making up rumors about how she got into the group, and whatever else they're saying about her that she hasn’t seen yet.

When she first debuted, she couldn’t go a night without crying herself to sleep. It got to the point where the members had to take her phone away themselves, because any chance she got, she was searching her name up. Now, it was a little better, she had learned to try her best to ignore it, but sometimes it was hard when they were also saying it right to her face, too.

When they did that, mostly it was older women and even a few men, it made her so angry she wanted to snap back, but she thought it would make it worse. It’d just paint her in an even worse light, and bring more negative attention to the group. She’d make it worse than it already was, and then they’d really have to kick her out.

Misun’s sitting stiffly on the edge of the black leather couch, twiddling with her fingers to ignore the urge to bite at them from nervousness. In front of her was Seolhee, Yewon, Wonseo, and a couple of others from Center Four publicity team that she remembers from media training classes. It made her feel on edge. The moment she stepped in the room, she knew what was going to happen.

“. . . So we’re thinking it might be best for you to go on a short break,” Seolhee says, not looking her in the eyes, even as Misun’s eyes burn through her. “Just a hiatus for the time being. It’s nothing permanent, NCT Dream probably won’t even have a comeback yet by the time you’re back. It’s just . . . with everything going on—social media, the comments, and just— everything, we want to give you some space. Time to breathe, focus on your health.”

“I don’t need space,” she speaks up, but her voice is very faint and flat. “I’m fine.”

“It’s non-negotiable,” Wonseo says firmly, arms crossed with his eyes calmly trained on her. “It’s just for a little while until it all dies down. We’ll put out a statement that it’s for personal reasons.”

Misun doesn’t like the look in his eyes when she finally looks away from Seolhee. They were daring her to snap back, to give him any further reason to pull her out of the group even more. Wonseo has made it clear from the very start that he wasn’t fond of the idea of her being in the group.

She glances around the room. Seolhee is still avoiding her eyes, and Yewon hasn’t once looked her way since she entered the room. Everyone else looked like robots, like this was just the one thing they needed to get done before going out for lunch— like they hadn’t just shattered her world. No one was on her side here. She could be in a room full of people, and still feel so alone.

Her eyes are glassy as she slowly nods, looking at nothing in particular. “Did— did someone say something?” She asks before she can stop herself, voice barely above a whisper now. She’s afraid if she was any louder, her voice would break.

There is a pause, and no one speaks for a second. It’s only a second or two, but it’s enough of a pause to plant the seed of doubt.

“No,” Seolhee said gently, and Misun hates the way she sounds. Like she actually cares about her. She squeezes her eyes shut, one lone tear escaping as she does. “We’re just concerned about you, Misun. This is for the best, OK?”

She wants to scream. She wants to cry. Is it the best for her or for them?

She doesn’t do any of that. She just nods silently and quickly wipes the tear away. “Is that it?”

She doesn’t see it, but Seolhee exchanges a nervous look with Yewon, before she says, “Yeah. I’ll drive you home, OK?”

Misun doesn’t say another word as she stands, bows faintly toward the general direction of the table, then walks out the door without looking back. She doesn’t stop walking until she reaches the restroom. The moment the door clicks shut behind her, she locks it, presses her back to the cold tile wall, and finally lets herself exhale a shaky and shallow breath.

Her ears and cheeks are hot, throat tightening and nose burning with the sudden onset of tears. Her hands come up to her head, pressing on her eyes harshly, “Stop crying,” she mutters through her tears, a sob ripping out of her chest.

She wasn’t stupid. They said it was for her, but it really wasn’t. It was the easy way out and the best choice for them. Instead of defending her in a statement, they just let it happen— let grown journalists write badly about a child. She hated thinking of herself as a child, but that’s simply what she was. How could anyone think of the vile things they thought and said about a child?

This couldn’t get any worse.

Misun was wrong. It definitely could.

“You’re a liar!” She seethes through angry and sad tears, vision blurry as she stomps throughout the dorm, back and forth from the living room where Seolhee was to her room. She doesn’t know where the members went, they were home before she left. There wasn’t a note or anything like there usually would be— did they already know? And they just wanted to miss her breakdown when she finally came home— only to get kicked out of her own fucking home? Or did one of the managers, probably Wonseo, bribe them out of the dorm with ice cream?

She keeps glancing at her phone every few minutes after packing some clothes in her suitcase. When she storms back to the living room, “I asked you ‘Is that it?’ and you told me yes! You didn’t tell me you were kicking me out the dorm, too!” She hates the loud, ugly sob that rips through her chest but she’s technically alone so she doesn’t care all that much.

“It was for the best—”

“Oh, God! Give me a break!” She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. She wipes more tears from her face but they keep falling, “There goes that again. For the best? Really?! That’s all you have to say to me?” She’s taken a demanding tone now, and she usually never would with authority figures but Seolhee was barely reacting.

“Unless you’d rather have reacted like this in front of the others,” she gestures to Misun, crossing her arms as she sits at the edge of the couch. “This isn’t permanent, Sunhye. It’s just temporary until everything is under control. People are making threats to you! Does that not scare you?”

“Then protect me!” Misun shouts incredulously, eyes wide as she stares at her. “Hire more bodyguards! Do your damn job! Move us to another dorm. That should’ve happened a long time ago when the first person found out where we lived!”

“I don’t have all the power in the world,” Seolhee sighs loudly, rubbing her temples. “What do you not understand about this is temporary?” Misun hates that word. Temporary. It feels like the word is actually taunting her. “Why are you being so childish about this now?”

“You’re making me leave my home,” Misun gasps out, shocked to hear her say that. Seolhee has always been the one closest to Misun, even being as far as being titled just Misun’s manager. “Have you had any consideration about where I’m supposed to go? I’ve lived in the dorms since I became a trainee.”

Seolhee rolls her eyes, shockening Misun even more, “What are you talking about? You have multiple choices: your mother—“ Misun blanches at that. Was this bitch crazy? “—your father, your brothers!”

Yeah, this bitch was crazy, she quickly decides.

“I’m not living with my mother,” she says firmly, “I’m pretty sure my dad is living with his current girlfriend of the month, so no thank you. And—” she laughs incredulously, “Jiho hates me! Jaesuk has more important things than me. You can’t just dump me on them.”

“It’s not dumping you on them, they’re your family,” Seolhee shakes her head. “You have the option of your grandparents, too.”

Misun’s jaw drops now, “They’re all the way in Texas! You’re really trying to get rid of me.”

“I thought they were moving back to Korea?” Seolhee ignores her words. “To be closer to you since you debuted?”

No. They specifically said it was for political reasons— not exactly in those words, but much more vulgar.

“I doubt they want to take care of a teenager,” Misun exclaims, sighing and storming back off to her room.

Seolhee follows this time, still talking, “They’re your family, and I’m sure they’ll be glad to be with you again.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Misun shakes her head swiftly, going into her room straight to her bed. Her suitcase lays open on the bed, with some clothes packed into it. Some toiletries have been taken from her restroom and put in a medium-sized backpack.

Looking at her bed makes her think of a couple of days ago when Mark was lying next to her, and they both promised to let each other in. She didn’t have to carry this by herself. She glances down at her phone, looking for any texts from her members. None. She ignores Seolhee talking behind her and thinks about texting Mark, letting him know what was going on. But… what if he already knew? Maybe they told him first since he was the leader.

Or maybe he already knew because he was the one that brought it up to them in the first place. Her chest aches at the thought. She had told him in full confidence that he wouldn’t tell anyone— she didn’t even bother to ask and make sure because she was so sure that it was wordlessly stated.

“It’s only temporary—”

All Misun’s been hearing is temporary, temporary. Temporary hiatus, temporary unit. Everything she knows is temporary. Why was that word cursing her?

“Stop saying that!” She shouts, turning around suddenly and making Seolhee stop pacing in surprise. “Temp-temporary! If it’s temporary, then why are you making me move out? Jaemin got the choice to stay! This feels like it’s permanent!”

“It’s to give you space,” Seolhee stresses, eyes wide at all the shouting from the usually meek and quiet girl. She didn’t meet Misun until they were preparing for debut, she didn’t know the trainee before the idol. “To give everyone space, Sunhye! Stop shouting and let’s talk about this, maturely.”

But she didn’t care, she figured if they were already trying to push her out, she had the right to say what she had to say. She wasn’t afraid of them. Not like she was afraid of having to go back to living with her mother.

She scoffs, “To give everyone space? What the hell do they need space for?! I’m the one getting death threats. I’m the one being accused of sleeping my way into the group!” The words taste bitter in her mouth, having to force the words out.

It’s the first time she’s mentioned it out loud. The accusation was the worst thing Misun has ever heard about herself— it was humiliating and cruel. She remembers being inconsolable when she saw the first article about it. It was enough that people were talking about it online, but the fact that there were articles being written about it? Making the rumors more public— putting her more in the spotlight for the public’s scrutiny.

There’s a stunned look on Seolhee’s face, jaw slack, eyes blinking like she’s trying to process what she just heard.

“Did you think I didn’t know?” Her voice breaks, and she can feel the tears starting all over again. She hates crying. She really fucking hates crying. “There were articles about it. I’m sure even the members know about it. There’s no way you didn’t.”

Seolhee doesn’t speak for a long moment, but when she does, Misun’s crying softly with her chest heaving and breath caught in her throat. Why does she never win? “Those are just rumors,” Seolhee is speaking slowly and carefully, like she’s reciting something from memory. “Cruel, baseless rumors that no one here believes, Misun.”

“Then why does it feel like they do?” Misun cuts her off, voice sharp and raw with pain. “If no one believes them, why am I the one being punished?”

Seolhee stays silent.

Misun scoffs through her tears, sniffling harshly as she turns her back to her. She can’t even look at her anymore. “Don’t bother answering. I already know— It’s easier to blame the girl, right? You’re just going to prove them all right that I wasn’t ready to debut, that I couldn’t keep up with a group of boys.” She shakes her head to herself, vision blurry even as she adds more of her clothes in her suitcase.

Her head bows slightly, squeezing her eyes shut as she wills the tears to slow down. After a moment, she sniffles again and speaks, but doesn’t turn to look at Seolhee, “Can you leave me alone? I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

Seolhee doesn’t answer, only shutting the door behind her. Once she’s gone, Misun slumps on her bed and brings a pillow to her face before screaming into it.

Just the very thing she feared— she was turning out like her mother.

[kryptonusprime]

This may be the most obvious statement ever and one that dozens of people have made previously, but I still want to say it: James Gunn is so fucking good at needle drops. He has a special talent for picking songs that are a bit less listened to by casual music listeners such as myself, and then presenting them in such a way that a first-time listener cannot divorce from the association Gunn makes with his films' characters and themes.

So anyway here's an analysis of the lyrics of "Punkrocker," a song I only heard for the first time a few days ago when I watched Gunn's Superman. Thusly, I am only capable of listening to this song through the lens of it being about Clark Kent.

So, y'know. Spoilers for Superman (2025). Lyrics by Teddybears. Song sung by Teddybears and Iggy Pop.

Verse 1:

"See me drivin down the street / I'm bored with looking good."

Superman constantly draws attention to himself simply by existing. And frankly, part of him doesn't want that. That's why he needs to be "mild-mannered newspaper reporter, Clark Kent" sometimes. Or even most times.

"I got both hands off the wheel / The cops are coming."

Consider the calm tone with which Iggy Pop sings this lyric, as well as the rest of the song. It's a tone of quiet, confident self-acceptance, juxtaposed with a lyric about seeming, nay, being dangerous and being condemned by society for it. It applies to Clark because Superman will do reckless things for the right reasons, no matter who comes after him for it. And he is ready to accept that.

"I'm listening to the music with no fear / You can hear it too if you’re sincere."

Clark has accepted the beauty and potential of humanity, and he knows that if other people would simply drop their cynicism and see the world as he sees it for just a moment, they could understand why he does what he does. And honestly, they, we could do it too.

Verse 2:

"I see you stagger in the street / And you can't stay on your feet."

Clark sees humanity struggling with itself, hurting itself in ways they wouldn't if they just accepted each other and themselves.

"And you're faking in your sleep / You wish that you were deep."

Clark sees the lying to oneself that some people do, the bitterness that acts as if cynicism is just accepting life's truth.

"You can't hear me laughing to myself / If you could you would be someone else."

Again, Superman knows that if humanity simply accepted each other and themselves, they wouldn't have to be the fakers the rest of the verse presents.

Verse 3:

"See me die on Bleecker Street / I'm bored with being God."

"See me sneering in my car / I'm driving to my star."

This verse honestly kinda threw me at first. It very much has an "arrogant rockstar" vibe, which goes against the character of Superman, as well as the way this song and its presentation subvert the usual pop culture image of "punk rock" . I wondered why Gunn would pick this song even after that verse. And then I realized that it ends with the same pre-chorus as the first verse:

"I'm listening to the music with no fear / You can hear it too if you’re sincere."

The point is not to say "I'm better than you," the point is to say "you can choose to be better. The only thing stopping you from coming up here where I am is yourself."

Superman exists above much of humanity, a state he achieves not by his incredible physical power, but by his choice to embrace the best parts of humanity itself. And anyone can choose to do that. That's what Superman wants for us.

Chorus:

"'Cause I'm a punk rocker, yes I am / Well I'm a punk rocker, yes I am."

This is the thesis of Gunn's Superman, expressed by the statement of "I'm punk rock" sung to the softest, poppiest music imaginable: "In a world of apathy, cruelty, and cynicism, being publicly and unashamedly kind is what it means to be 'punk rock.'"

Conclusion:

James Gunn is a master at selecting unique, lesser-known or remembered songs and placing them in contexts that simultaneously fit and redefine characters, and sometimes even the songs themselves in ways no one else could previously have seen.

Since Gunn presents this song (and the scene of Superman recovering from his injuries while reliving memories of the people he loves) as the movie's closing statement, I will forever hear "Punkrocker" as a song about looking down at other people who weigh themselves down through cynicism and apathy, and inviting them to come up with you where it's more dangerous, but also happier.

That's what this song means to me now, no matter if that's the original intent of the artist or not. That's how good James Gunn is at needle drops.

[myomie]

Hi!! I read all your twst alphabet headcanons and loved them all! I was wondering if you could do a Jamil one? Thank you!

J. VIPER ─────────────────────────────────────────── " Jamil Viper SFW Alphabet Headcanons! " GN! Reader Warnings (∩>؂•)⊃⦆=͟͟͞͞➵ None!!, not proofread.. thank you!! :D i luv jamil sm hfaihf!! <33 This was written over two days so sorry if anything is contradictory or repetitive TT

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Jamil expresses his affection for you primarily through acts of service. He doesn't mind physical touch or anything of that matter, and does invite it- But PDA is something he isn't a huge fan of. There are many reasons for this, whether the main one being he doesn't think everyone should be seeing you both be cheesy or the fact he's especially awkward when it comes to you. He feels he has a sort of reputation to uphold, both being himself and being a servant of the Al-Asims. He'd never shame you for indulging in PDA, but he won't be the type to initiate anything big, especially if it's outside of the Scarabia dorm. In private, he's still a bit more reserved than most, and honestly... I think he partially just doesn't know how. He constantly grew up around Kalim, catering to his needs, and he just recently began to branch out He's never had a crush, much less a significant other.  He's reliant on you to show him the ropes, and after you express your love for him through your actions a few times, he begins to be the one to initiate.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You both are in similar situations... In some ways. You have to take of Adeuce and Grim, while Jamil has been tasked his whole life with caring for Kalim. Although your rants about the trio are always filled with adoration, he still finds comfort in the way you're comfortable ranting about your struggles, eventually opening up about it himself.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

As most partners would, Jamil does like cuddling- But he is one of the least straightforward about it. He finds it to be a part of his nighttime routine, relaxing into your arms, maybe even grumbling about his day into your skin. It's a way for him to finally unwind, and he likes it that way. Outside of nighttime, he doesn't cuddle you often unless you guys just so happen to have free time together. He prefers to be held by you than anything, arms around your waist as you squeeze him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Settling down is a bit of an iffy subject for him, he doesn't expect to break up with you at any point, but he knows his life isn't one where he can constantly be by your side, as he wishes. Long talks, and hours of consideration on both of your parts, would have to be made before he could give a definite answer. As we know, Jamil is insanely good at cooking. Hopefully, the food he makes is to your taste... Because being with him with certainly up your spice tolerance! Similarly, it's just in his nature to be clean. There is not much cleanup for him to ever do, because he always puts stuff where it belongs immediately after he's done using it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Breaking up could be for two reasons. One is your fault.. the other is his fault. He would never do something to hurt you on purpose, but sometimes he feels as if he is negatively impacting you. No matter the reason, whether you hurt him, or he worries he is hurting you, it's a quick message, followed by no answer. He goes completely avoidance style, no matter how much you text and call him to explain further.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

As said in Domestic, he doesn't see much worry about getting married right away, and it would only be done after a lot of confirmation... To the point, you know it's coming before it happens. He likes it that way, anyway. However, married or not, he's committed from the get-go. He's 100% not the person to cheat... You're the first person he's felt this way with, and he wants you to be the last.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, Jamil is a very gentle person. When hugging, you're always the one to squeeze him, whilst he just holds you like you're made of glass. Alternatively, though, when it comes to vocally, he can be rather straightforward. He wouldn't yell at you, or berate you, but he is clear about how he feels about whatever transpired, and he'll make sure you know.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Not in public! He's accepting of your short-lasting goodbye hugs, but after a few seconds, he's letting go, and if you cling to him, he'll feel awkward under everyone's gaze. However, in the safety and privacy of his dorm, he's very quick to stay in a long hug. Depending on your height difference (and hair length), he might tangle his fingers in your hair, or just plop his hand down on your head. If you're taller, with short hair he can't reach, he might still fidget, running his finger along your back.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He makes a huge deal about it. In some cases, it is indeed a huge deal, but to you, you say it so casually. Your constant "I love yous!" makes him realize he needs to say it back, but before he can stumble it out, you're already gone. He has mumbled it a few times when he thinks you're asleep as if practicing... But he doesn't know you hear it .. :3 However, eventually, he will try to say it as casually as possible. "Iloveyou" his words are all jumbled together as he stammers it out, causing you to brighten up, and immediately repeat it. After that, it becomes more like second nature, "Love yous" leaving his mouth now and then casually.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's not the kind of person to state his jealousy, nor does he often get jealous at all in the first place. He's secure in his relationship, but even he can't stop himself, especially when he sees you around Kalim. Although he grew to be more accepting of Kalim, and the fact you two were friends, no matter what, the prince had taken countless things from him (albeit, all unintentional) so, the very thought and threat of the boy's presence is enough to cause a shiver to wrack up the Viper's spine. When he does get jealous, you can expect him to grab your hand, making an excuse for why you both must go elsewhere... Even if it comes at the cost of lying a bit.

Expect a mumble of, "Hey.. You forgot we were doing {this} later." However, when you check your calendar and messages later, there is not even a hint of evidence that you both planned this.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

As stated earlier, Jamil isn't super into PDA. It's not that he's shy about his relationship, he just thinks some things are better kept in private. His kisses are usually sweet and soft, small ghostly touches against your head, or right beside your lips. He doesn't have much of a preference for where you kiss him, and if you're into kissing his cheek or nose in public, he doesn't mind. He would just prefer you to not try and make out with him mid-hangout. Something he is far too sheepish to admit, though, is that he enjoys it when you kiss him whilst praising him. Such an intimate activity combined with sweet words coming from your mouth... It just makes him melt.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Jamil is neutral with children, he spent his whole life caring for Kalim, so his only experience taking care of a kid.. was when he was a kid himself. When children run up to him, he's just stiff. Sometimes he'd try to brush them aside, especially if he's busy, but overall he just lets them goof around. If the kids were to be his own, he'd be more relaxed. He's stern, but kind- Always encouraging his children to do what they know they can do best, not wanting them to grow up the way he did.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He has a rigorous and precise morning routine. He is up early in the morning, and you won't see him for a while unless fate is on your side. (If you share classes, or see him in the halls.) However, despite the fact you likely won't see him until lunchtime, his presence is very obvious. From the coffee (or tea, or orange juice if that you fancy) made just the way you like it steaming on the counter, to the packaged lunch fully in a heat-absorbent box, it was clear you were the first thing on his mind as he got ready for the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nighttime he has his whole dedicated routine to making sure you're there, holding you tight, maybe exchanging a few words... and then he's out. Jamil is certainly exhausted after his long and tedious days, so you know not to expect much late at night.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You know a bit about his feelings regarding Kalim due to his overblot, but even then, everything said then was combined with an intense amount of pent-up rage. So when it comes to how he feels, it takes a lot longer. In all reality, it could easily take a year before he feels comfortable telling you the things he's only ever told his journal. He trusts you enough to know you won't blackmail him, but even then, it's been trained into him to not talk bad about Kalim, and how he truly felt growing up.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He is rather patient and is careful with how he acts around others. In acting so patient all the time, he tends to bottle up his frustrations, causing them to ultimately spill out one day. He has the *ability* to be patient, but it's more a trait he harbors to keep his and his family's status positive, and not a real reflection of how he feels.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He listens attentively to everything you say, and even when he is preoccupied, he responds to what you're saying. So safe to say, he remembers what you tell him. He always makes sure you feel heard, but even when you're unsure if he is listening or just going "mhm", he somehow manages to ask a question that reassures you he's paying attention.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Literally whenever you praise him, especially if it's something he's not used to hearing. He appreciates all compliments on his cooking, but he hears it often- So when you first see him dance, or play basketball, and rant about how "cool he is", he finds himself flustered, the memory staying with him forever as he dedicates himself to becoming even "cooler" at the things you enjoyed.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Not being a magical student, Jamil is mostly just aware of your surroundings. He used to take care of Kalim constantly, so while he might not taste test all your food, he does have a preference for you eating his food, something he knows is safe. He tries to avoid being violent, his reputation tanking slightly after his overblot, causing him to make up for it in such ways... But he is not above casting a cold glare someone's way if he feels suspicious of them. Over time, he learns the biggest issue in NRC wouldn't be bullies coming after you for being magicless, but yourself. After all, he did just watch you fall on your face like twenty times. When it comes to him being protected, he's not super receptive to that. He's not used to such actions and gets a little worried at how heated you get over protecting him. Standing up for him, to people much more powerful, makes him a bit flustered, but almost always ends with him having to drag you away.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He does spend a lot of time on your anniversaries and dates. He likes to stay inside, and doesn't often splurge a bunch of money on things like cruises; however, you can expect to be provided with the yummiest homemade dinner known to man. It's not flashy, but you know he secretly spent hours preparing everything. Gift-wise, he is very practical. If he knows you want a certain keychain or plushie, he'll buy it for you, but you should expect more gifts that he knows you'll use in your day-to-day life.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Sometimes, he still finds himself holding back. Maybe when playing a game together, you find yourself winning too much, even though you've never played these magic-based games before. At first, you assume he's taking it easy on you to help you understand, but as he continues to do so, looking a bit bored, you get frustrated, and ask why he keeps doing that. He hadn't even meant to, usually, and snaps out of it. His lack of effort, due to being used to letting someone succeed above him, impacts his fulfillment in certain activities.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Jamil likes what he has, and wants to keep it as it is. He doesn't make any crazy changes to his appearance, but he does take pretty good care of his hair. He likes to look neat, so he makes sure to at least have some basic skincare. He has canonically stated that without his haircare routine, his hair becomes a bit unruly!!

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yeah for sure :( He finally finds someone he trusts, so having that ripped away would incredibly ruin him. Would he be able to adjust? Yes, he'd force himself to. But for the rest of his life, your memory would drive him just slightly more mad.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Music helps him focus! Similarly to hearing music during dance, or during basketball, it gets him into a confident and motivated mood. So when he's studying, he'll oftentimes listen to similar music, even if it's a bit off-putting to some people... After all, most people study with piano in the background, not dance music.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He kinda reminds me of how when kids want to do the dishes, but then their parent asks them to and they no longer want to do it. That is certainly him, as he does enjoy caring for you, but if you get demanding and force him to do everything around the house, he begins to get frustrated. He does not want to be treated as a servant by you, especially if you are richer than him, it just feels like a kick in the face.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits of theirs?)

Although when he's awake he's always sure to hold you gently when he's asleep it's a bit of a different story. Feeling your squirm while he's out caused his grip to tighten, even if you just had to use the restroom or get water. You usually just accept your fate at that point, trying to go back to sleep, as he eventually loosens his grip again.

[sur-i-ki]

Okay another one shot because I am losing my damn mind. I think I've lost it, officially.

College AU, nerd reader, smitten naruto. Can you tell I have favourites? Edit; holy 2.0k words. I don’t like it, which is why it’s left where it is. Idk do we want a part 2?

Naruto wouldn’t consider himself to be dumb.

At least, not anymore. Sure, when he was younger he didn’t have the best grades, but his poor, overworked and underpaid teachers couldn’t be bothered to give him the extra attention he needed. Thankfully, two teachers, Mr. Iruka in middle school and Mr. Kakashi in high school, gave him the guidance and tools he needed to excel. And excel he did.

Now as a pre-law student at a prestigious university, Naruto was doing well. Not perfect, like Sakura, a rising pre-med student with a double major in criminology and neuroscience, or particularly skilled, like Sasuke, who was at a neighboring police academy, bringing in top scores, especially in detective work, just like his older brother. Naruto had his own strength: his hardwork and his charisma. He could talk to a wall and get it to move, and had formed a strong networking circle, built off of his parents’.

And it didn’t hurt that the three of them always had study sessions together. There were others he met, during breaks and stuff, keeping in touch with his high school friends who moved away as well.

Naruto remembers one instance very well. It was the summer after first year of undergrad, and he had a few days to catch up with everyone before he began his internship. Imagine his absolute surprise when he walked into a cafe and saw Shikamaru completely transformed. Hair long but tied up in a half-up half-down, a baggy shirt and matching pants. Basically, he’d completely transformed, and in such a way, Naruto even noticed the girls walking in giggling and glancing at their group. And he knew he needed tips. He’d pulled up in stained, black sweats and a minecraft hoodie, for goodness’s sake.

“Shi-ka-ma-ru!” each pause accented with a smack to the back, “What the heck is this?”

That got him the nastiest side eye ever, but Shikamaru grumbled out a reply regardless.

“Me and Chouji finally ended up listening to Ino about fashion. Landed three interviews and a couple of dates when she dressed us, and we just” he shrugs, “kept to it, I guess. It’s such a drag though.”

He hadn’t even finished speaking when Naruto's phone was already out in his hand, fingers flying as he texted his favourite (and only) blonde friend.

Needless to say, Ino worked her magic, and taught him because “God, Naruto, I swear you’re the only one who ever listens! Sakura’s always too busy, and I still dress the boys because sometimes, they’re so-” and viola! Naruto’s fame skyrocketed on campus. Along with this and his position on the varsity basketball team, he always walks out with flowers, chocolates, and cards after every game. Of course, he made an effort to style Sakura and Sasuke as well, which they didn’t mind because they had one less thing to worry about.

All of this is to show that, you know, he lives a life. Good social circle, tight-knit friends, a tad bit of popularity. Maybe it got to his head a little. Gave a swagger in his step he didn’t have before. Few well placed smiles and a couple of details remembered, and he could have a dinner date with any girl on campus.

Well, almost any girl.

They were about half way done the fall term, when there was a new addition to the study group. Sakura dragged you into the room, making quick, whispered introductions as you smiled at them, phone glued to your ear and a laptop in your arms, bag swollen and bursting at the seams. His initial thought was that you were another Political Science student, as he vaguely remembers seeing you in some of his classes, but based on the intense science-y jargon you were spouting into the phone, he feels slightly confused.

But what really caught his attention, as you put your stuff down and shook everyone’s hand, is that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Nothing like what you see on social media, although he would not bring that beauty down, but an ethereal, unique type of beauty that would’ve started wars in the past. He definitely would have, no questions asked. Your hands, surprisingly, had calluses, and the smile you flashed at him as you wrapped up your call could have made him fall over, if he wasn’t already sitting.

You introduced yourself in earnest. Another pre-med, doing a combined engineering and economics major, and had bumped into Sakura at a volunteering event. The two of you had immediately hit off, and when Sakura realized you went to the same university, she invited you to join their study session as well.

“I hope I’m not intruding…” You said at the end, giving a shallow nod to the three of them.

“Of course not, the boys don’t mind, right?” Sakura replied, kicking both of them under the table with a smile that promised death if they disagreed.

As Sasuke mumbled out some words of agreement, Naruto took this opportunity to get a few words in.

“You said you were taking economics as well? I think I saw you in my 356 class last year, with Professor Anko?” and your body gave a faux-full-body-flinch at the name. He chuckled at your reaction, realizing you were just as dramatic as he was, and loving it.

“Please never say that name around me again, I’m pretty sure I just got a PTSD flashback.” you laughed, and then the two of you were quick to start talking, bonding over shared classes and trauma. He thought he was getting somewhere. Clearly, there was a vibe, with the way you smiled at him, the eye contact, and with how much you laughed at his jokes. He was sadly mistaken, because you were just that attentive with the others, and behaved the same with everyone, to make them comfortable.

Case in point, when asked about your calluses, you brought up the martial arts classes you take, and training at a nearby gym, which caught Sauske’s interest. He soon joined the conversation as well, the both of you talking. You mirrored him completely, down to the accurate pauses, lack of energy, and calm overtone. He watched as his socially challenged friend flourished under your attention, talking more and letting his personality shine through. You adapted, matching his energy and vibe.

Contrary to popular belief, Sasuke was not shy, just quiet and not very well versed in the art of small talk. Once he got to know the other person, then it was smooth sailing, but he had, more than once, said something a little too bluntly, and suffered for it. Telling an aunt that she needs to stop feeding her baby less because “I’m pretty sure that’s an unhealthy BMI for an infant.” is not appropriate thing to say five minutes into meeting someone, and “Jeez, Sasuke, can’t you have just a bit of tact,” with an elbow in his ribs from his cousin Shisui. Naruto had folded himself in half from laughter during that, hiding in the corner.

But here, he can see the sure confidence in Sasuke’s words, and you take every savory and unsavory comment and question in stride. The same thing occurred when Sakura finally looked up, joining in after her readings. So you were social, clearly. It didn’t mean he didn’t have a chance.

You two had one class together, which he offered to walk to you, and you accepted. Win. Then as you dove into your world of AutoCAD and differential equations, he debated asking if he could walk you back to your dorm. Which at the end of the session, you accepted as well. Another win.

Except, as the semester progressed, he realized that as much as you were smart and social, you were severely lacking in the matters of the heart. Which is his pouty, whine-y way of saying that you were either unfazed by his moves, or just didn’t take them for what it was. Walking to class, brushing shoulders, as he bent his head down into your space to ‘hear you’? Oh, wow, you had a friend hanging off your other side. One on one coffee dates? Well, apparently engineering majors carry laptops everywhere, and soon Sakura and Sasuke crowded into the booth as well, making it an impromptu study date. Smiles, fueling your caffeine addiction, late night calls and playing roblox, anything, everything, nothing worked.

For the longest time, he thought he had no hope, until one day, during winter break, he talked to Sakura. He was promptly swatted on the head.

“Smart girls require a different approach to romantic attention, idiot. Besides, maybe if you opened your goddamn eyes, you’d be singing a different song.”

And open his eyes he did, because this semester he had three classes with you, which meant more opportunities to make headway. Stretching after sitting in a particularly long lecture, he didn’t squeeze his eyes shut. No, this time, he watched you, out of the corner of his eye, and saw you eyeing him with interest. You glanced at his abs peeking out, just a bit, before moving your eyes away to pack. He was on cloud nine the entire day.

Naruto is exceptionally good at hyperfixating. This time around? Studying you, without outright interacting with you. What style, color, body language makes you look at him a bit longer, a bit more with intent. He slowly adapted, learned that if he spent an hour before the lectures learning the content, you’d give him a wide eyed stare when he answered your questions like nothing. Saw you looked at him more when he listened, asked when he didn’t know. Seeing him being confident, slightly more cocky made your ears turn red. And the day he found out you thrived on verbal sparring? His foxy side came out, and class became a series of whispered wars and giggles. It made you touch him more, hands on his arms, ruffling his hair and what not.

Something shifted, and somewhere in all of this, he realized you were getting bolder. The both of you had become this flirty friendship thing. No longer were “study dates” crashed by other friends, walking in the halls with just you, doing side quests together to ‘unlock’ secret places on campus. And the times when you were in a particularly sweet mood, you’d complement each other, genuinely, and sometimes your sincerity had him turning his head away to hide his blush. The two of you grew closer together, and he knew where you were and what you were doing almost always, and vice versa.

One instance had even Sasuke staring at him flabbergasted, with Sakura’s jaw hanging opening when she had asked-

“Where is she? Did she get lost?”

Naruto glanced at his watch. “Nah, she’s probably getting her coffee and protein shake from the cafe, should be here in 10.” as if he was conversing about the weather. Sasuke pinned him with his incredulous look.

“...Why do you know that?”

Sakura chimed in, “And how did you answer so quickly?”

He smiled sheepishly, but didn’t elaborate.

Some nights, he'd lay in bed thinking (daydreaming) about you, about how you leaned into his space more, tilting your head up while stepping closer, or pulling him down by the collar to point something out in the crowd. He’d obediently nodded along, trying to hide the fact that the smell of your perfume made his head spin in the best way, drunk and intoxicating him until all he could think, hear, and feel was you.

But you were so infuriatingly dodgy! It drove him insane, made his head spin with thoughts of just bursting out his feelings for you during the tense moments.. His hand would be next to your��s, and he sees it twitch, knows that maybe, you want to close the gap too, but don’t. And he doesn’t know why. He can feel your stare on him sometimes, can see the way your bright eyes follow him when he decides to go shirtless for a run, can see the way you glance at his mouth. But you flake on him, you call him “a great friend” and sometimes he feels like he’ll die, trying to decode you to understand.

He doesn’t care though. Can’t care, not when you smile at him like that, saying his name in that voice of your’s, and that new nickname makes his brain stop working.

You’re so oblivious. Good thing he is a patient man (he isn’t, but for you…)

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

[fury-brand]

I think part of why I just can't get on board with Verso's ending is that I cannot get on board with its positive qualities.

First I just want to go over what this ending is all about.

It's not really about letting go. If it were about letting go, Maelle would have made the decision to leave of her own volition. She doesn't. She has the canvas taken from her by force.

It IS about reconnecting with your family, and prioritizing your familial bonds over everything, and coming together in times of trouble... But I just don't believe in family above all except for the runtime of a fast and furious movie. Family can be cruel, and we have plenty of evidence that they have been. The unity of the nuclear family isn't, to me, interchangable shorthand for healing. It also reads as shockingly pat and uncomplicated for a game which continues to repeat that family is complicated.

It's also about acceptance, though I might see it more as giving up. This is the ending where everyone has to accept that Verso is gone, but it's also the ending where everything which remains must be given up. The canvas is erased, Lune and Sciel and those who remain are snuffed out, and painted Verso gives up on the possibility of a future where he will be anything but tired and worn down.

And if you don't really think it's about letting go, and you don't really believe in the narrative that the unity of the family can heal all wounds, and you don't think that the best outcome Verso has available to him is to just kill himself, and you see the canvas as a real space rather than an escapist one, then like... What is there? Not just in terms of what was gained, but what is resonant and true about this ending?

I think it becomes about brutal acceptance. It's "tomorrow comes," no matter what happens. You will lose everything and you will have to keep going - or give up. When all else is said and done those are your only real options, especially out here in the real world where a secondary world we can escape to and control is of course beyond possibility. You will be forced to sit with the ashes of your burnt-down life and reckon with them.

And that's fine. That's a good ending to the game that Clair Obscur was. But it's almost undercut by the tonal cues of the soft light and gentle piano and the overall presentation of this ending that I find it hard to swallow. It feels dissonant and dishonest. Alicia, standing alone in the closing moments, isn't conceptualizing a future for herself built on the ruins of her old life -- she's looking back. There is no "forward" here conceptualized for her. If you don't believe in the family -- if you resonated more with everything the game had to say about family prior to this, that it's complicated, that people who love each other sometimes hurt each other tremendously and irreparably -- then what is there here to be hopeful about?

I think I would almost prefer this ending if it was the one with scary piano and black and white. As it is it just winds up making me question - did the writers miss, or is there a part of this story that's just intrinsically not for me? Because I can easily get behind how the true ending of this game must be about accepting devastating, unacceptable loss, but the particular way the pieces were arranged winds up leaving a lot to be desired.

[theconstellationprincess]

Regressor Dorian headcannons because he's my special little guy

He spends a lot of his time in fight or flight, constantly aware of the comings and goings of everyone in the house, and he fears that taking a break will lead the people he's trying to protect getting hurt. He takes his job very very seriously.

This means that Dorian rarely takes a break- like some other objects in the house...- and his regression is involuntary due to stress/burnout from his work and being on alert all the time.

I think his age range would be all over the place, just depending on how stressed he is, and how much of a threat his brain still believes there to be. Like high stress + high threat = very distressed baby Dorian, but high stress + low threat = middle/teen Dorian, if that makes sense?

Dorian, unless he's regressed very young, will avoid/hide from the other objects because he doesn't want them to perceive him that way. He's meant to be strong, keep them safe, and how will they belive he can do that if they catch him crying and acting a quarter of his age? So he does his best to avoid them.

Sometimes it's unavoidable, depending on where he is when he regresses, because some of the other objects have fantastic caregiving instincts and will clock him before he can make his escape.

Not a particularly cooperative little- he is stubborn, and since his regression is normally negatively triggered, he's almost always processing big, strong emotions that he does not feel equipped to handle, and being regressed, he struggles to communicate these feelings and it ends up becoming very frustrating for him, and his CG at the time. Another reason why he avoids them.

Likes to be carried/held

He sometimes reaches a point in regression where he stops fighting things, let's himself be upset and process his stress and emotions, but this is very rare, because he's more likely to regress, freak out, and then eventually claw himself out of headspace and pretend absolutely nothing happened. It takes a talented CG to help Dorian go through the, much healthier, first process.

Will suck/chew the keys he keeps as a necklace. Good indicator that he's regressed/regressing and trying to fight it.

A good mix of active and eepy baby, hes quite happy to play a physical game, but also to just relax and snuggle.

I do think, over time, Dorian would start to accept his regression more, and it may even become something he does voluntarily before his stress becomes unbearable.

Okay that's all I've got for now, hope you guys enjoy!! Feel free to send requests for any date everything character and I'll do my best for oblige <3

[meganekune]

早上好女神

以下彩虹屁🌈国宴，简直国宴🥺omg今天的卢浮宫就逛到这里吧，到底是谁幸福了，哦是我幸福了啊🥰（闻到饭香）（优雅从土里爬出来）（优雅地爬进高级餐厅）（优雅地坐下）（优雅地看菜单）（优雅地点菜）（优雅地等菜）（看到菜上来了）（优雅地拿起刀叉）（优雅地切开）（优雅闭眼）（优雅地品尝）（突然睁眼）（尝到美味）（开心）（再次品尝）（好吃）（埋头优雅干饭）（优雅吃完）（优雅擦嘴）（优雅地爬下来）（优雅爬出高级餐厅）（优雅爬回土里）（健康且适度地爬行）（积极地扭动）（正面的，向上的）（低于50分贝地嘶吼）（有益身体健康地扭曲）（阳光的黄金回旋）（一个标准俯卧撑）（中气十足的嚎叫）（中学生广播体操）（伸展运动）（阳光的起跳）（划出一道优美的弧线）（稳稳落地）（举双手示意）（微笑谢场）

彩虹屁结束🌈

1，如果双星日后谈的ray穿越到三年前（和昨天的问题互补，互相穿越，还是老土的穿越问题，但是我真的好爱看🥺）

2，史密斯夫妇，英雄mc和她的反派丈夫😋（掉马真的很美味🥰）

3.双反派，xql一起作恶🥺

附赠一张群里的梗图（）

Hiii!!💖💖💖😭You r so sweet tysm girl!! Love ur questions!!❤️❤️这个梗图笑死我了救命🆘

1. If Binary Star ending Ray time traveled back to 3 years ago when he first saw MC

He wouldn’t recognize the moment right away—not until he sees MC crouched in that house, scratching a stray cat’s chin with a smile. And then it hits him.

It’s that day, the day he first saw them. The day something inside him changed and never changed back. But now, he knows how it ends. He knows he gets them. He knows what works. So this time, he doesn’t just watch from the shadows. This time, He steps closer.

He “coincidentally” meets MC at the coffee shop they frequent. He smiles, speaks, gentle, practiced, calculated. He knows exactly which version of himself MC will fall for, and he becomes it with terrifying ease.

He tells himself it’s just to skip the pain, to cut to the part where they’re his. But the truth is, the man who lived through the binary star ending is hollowed out and filled with quiet desperation. Having MC in the end didn’t fix him: it only made the idea of losing them unbearable. So now, seeing MC again, younger and freer and unaware of what’s coming, Ray clings harder.

He moves too fast, becomes too attentive, too present, too good at pretending he isn’t watching them sleep or memorizing the sound of their breath. The moment they smile at him without fear, he thinks, See? It’s working again. We’re inevitable.

And if they don’t love him the same way this time? If they hesitate, if they run?

He will break. And this time, he might not wait three years to chain fate back into place.

2. Hero MC & their Villain Husband (it’s giving criminally yours vibe…💙)

To the world, they’re just another married couple. They wake up in the same bed, drink coffee across the same kitchen table, complain about work together. Secretly though, MC works for NAHA’s hero task force. And their beloved husband? Is the very villain they’ve been chasing for years without realizing.

Ray thinks it’s adorable. The way they come home frustrated from another failed mission, ranting about how that bastard slipped through their fingers again. The way they studies the surveillance footage again and again, brows furrowed….It makes him giddy, obsessed.

Ray wants MC’s undivided attention, at work and at home. Their anger, their focus, their obsession—it’s all still his. Whether they’re cooking beside him or shouting orders on the battlefield, he wants their eyes on him, only him.

He doesn’t want to win. He just wants to keep playing forever. After all, what’s more intimate than knowing every inch of the person sworn to take you down?

3. If Ray and MC were both villains

They’re not just partners in crime—they’re each other’s anchor. MC plans every heist with surgical precision, while Ray is raw instinct, a weapon disguised as a man. MC might say, He’s the blade to her blueprint, the unpredictable force she both fears and craves. MC may attempt to convince Ray, “We’re taking the files, not killing anyone,” but Ray smirks and replies, “That’s adorable.”

This Ray doesn’t pretend he doesn’t enjoy the chaos. He craves violence, control, revenge—openly, shamelessly. Because he already has what he wants, and everything else can burn.

They fight sometimes. Because Ray gets too reckless and MC plays too long a game. But they always come back to each other. A quiet understanding between two people who’ve both been hurt enough to stop pretending they want to be saved.

Sometimes, MC will curl up next to him after a heist, counting stolen data drives while Ray carefully wipes blood off his hands. They’ll talk about groceries, cats, that new recipe they always wanted to try. And maybe Ray still dreams of locking MC away someday, just for safety. Maybe MC keeps a burner plan in case Ray crosses a line too far. But for now, they belong to no one but each other.

1. 如果双星结局的Ray穿越回三年前他第一次遇见MC的时候

他一开始不会立刻认出这个时刻——直到他看到MC蹲在那间屋子里，正笑着给一只流浪猫挠下巴。然后他才意识到。

是那天。他第一次见到他们的那天。他体内某个东西在那一刻发生了变化，然后再也没有变回来。

但现在，他知道这一切的结局。他知道他最终得到了MC。他知道什么会奏效。所以这一次，他不再只是在阴影中远远看着。他走得更近了。

他“偶然”在MC常去的咖啡馆与他们相遇。他微笑，开口——温柔的、练习过的、精心计算的。他非常清楚MC会爱上自己哪一个版本，而他毫不费力地成为了那个人。

他告诉自己，这只是为了跳过痛苦，直接进入他们属于彼此的那一部分。但真相是，那个经历过双星结局的Ray早已被掏空，内心满是无声的绝望。拥有MC并没有治愈他，只是让他更无法忍受失去MC的可能。

所以当他再次看到MC，看到那个还年轻、自由、毫不知情的他们时，Ray抓得更紧了。

他动作太快，表现得太关心、太在场，对他们的呼吸声记得太清楚，对他们的睡姿观察得太入迷。他们一旦对他微笑——没有恐惧，他就会想：“看吧？又奏效了。我们是命中注��的。”

但如果这一次MC不再用同样的方式爱他呢？如果他们犹豫，逃跑呢？

他会崩溃。而这一次，他也许不会再等三年才把命运重新锁回自己手里。

2. 英雄MC与他们的反派丈夫Ray(有点像criminally yours的设定！！）

在世人眼中，他们就是一对普通的已婚情侣。他们一起在同一张床上醒来，在厨房桌对面喝咖啡，一起抱怨工作。

但事实上，MC是NAHA英雄行动组的一员。而他们深爱的丈夫？正是他们多年来一直在追捕、却始终没能抓住的那个反派。

Ray觉得这一切太可爱了。他们一次又一次失败后回到家，满脸懊恼地抱怨“那个混蛋又跑了”；他们皱着眉头，一遍又一遍地看监控录像，研究敌人的动作，但那些镜头里的人其实就是正坐在他们身边的丈夫。Ray越看越着迷。

在他眼里，这就是浪漫。他想要MC毫无保留的注意力——不论是在战场上还是在家里。他们的怒气、专注、执着，全都是他的。无论他们是和他在厨房里做饭，还是在战斗中下达命令，Ray只想要他们的眼睛始终看着自己。

他并不想赢。他只想一直这样玩下去——永远。

毕竟，还有什么比“被你发誓要亲手逮捕的人彻底看透还深爱着你”更亲密的呢？

3. 如果Ray和MC都是反派

他们不仅仅是犯罪搭档——他们是彼此的锚点。MC用手术刀般精准的计划掌控每一次行动，而Ray是赤裸的本能，是披着人皮的武器。MC说，他是她蓝图中的刀刃，是那种她既害怕又渴望的力量。

MC有时会劝他说：“我们只是拿走资料，不杀人。”Ray只是微微一笑，“你说得真可爱。”

这个时间线里的Ray早已不再假装自己不喜欢混乱。他渴望暴力，渴望控制，渴望复仇——坦然地，无所顾忌地。因为他已经得到了他想要的那个人，而其他一切都可以付之一炬。

他们偶尔也会争吵。因为Ray太鲁莽，而MC的计划又太长远。但他们总会回到彼此身边。他们之间有一种沉默的理解——两个都被世界伤透了的人，早已不再假装自己值得被拯救。

有时候，抢劫过后，MC会靠在他身边，一边数着偷来的数据硬盘，一边看他细心擦拭手上的血迹。他们会聊点最日常的事：超市、猫、最近想尝试的新菜谱。

也许Ray仍然会幻想，有一天能把MC关起来——只是为了“安全”；也许MC也秘密准备着一个紧急逃生计划，以防Ray真的越界太远。

但至少现在，他们谁也不属于别人，他们只属于彼此。

[bonk-boink]

I LLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOVE YOUR KILLER!007n7

And I'm very curious!

How was the process after he got snatched by the spectre? As in the transformation of being turned into a killer?

What kind of mischievous stuff did the spectre do to him to make his mind SO broken?

Take your time to awanser, not pressure at all!

Love your works!

AYAYAYAYYAYA TYSMMMM!!! I'm going to be honest I don't know how to draw what it really did to scramble up 007's mind, it definitely poked and prodded to make things to its liking but it could do too much without killing him but to put it plainly it rewired 007s brain

Like this basically, but, in a more fleshy and magical way? I suppose? Sorry, it's hard to explain

But the Spectre did use other means to drive 007 to the point he is now in, made a little list of the main ways it achieved its end goal:

(Also an explanation for the blood pouring from his face)

Essentially the Spectre tortured 007 physically and mentally until he was too far gone to disobey the Spectres bidding (for the most part)

007 has been damaged severely, but you can still see parts of him shine through the fog during rounds. Each round with him is different and unexpected. Sometimes, he's hyped on adrenaline and moving swifter than normal, while in other rounds he'll hold himself back from hurting/killing someone or literally just sit and do nothing, too tired or too far into his mind to realize/care things are happening around him.

The fact he'll sit around isn't the best for the Spectre, but it cant really do anything, as well as negative emotions still flow from both 007 and the survivors even during the motionless rounds (007 is lost in his head surrounded by bad memories or exhausted, the survivors are constantly on edge fearing he might get up and start attacking randomly or they're trying to get through to him, which sparks negative reactions)

Tysm for liking my artwork!!!

[elene78-blog]

Jeremy and Jean begin a secret relationship, kissing secretly, slowly, unhurriedly, enjoying each other without anyone bursting their bubble. No one knows, although they suspect it, especially Cat and Laila, who hear Jeremy's door opening to enter Jean's room when he thinks everyone is asleep.

Jean is fascinated by Jeremy. He has to pinch his face when he wakes up to make sure he's not dreaming. They talk all the time. Jeremy teaches him so many things, and sometimes Jean stares while he talks, and Jeremy asks him questions, and Jean blushes because he wasn't listening, too focused on his smile and his freckles, and Jeremy laughs and repeats himself. And then he repeats himself in very bad French, but it's Jean's French, and he loves it when Jeremy uses it.

Jeremy wakes up thinking about Jean. He goes to bed thinking about Jean. He dreams of being in his arms and just resting, certain that Jean will hold him when he's exhausted. Jeremy watches him while he sleeps. Jeremy just wants to see Jean relaxed, so he makes sure there's something nice for him every day, and it's very easy because Jean appreciates every silly thing Jeremy gives him. There's something Jeremy loves about Jean's incredibly witty grunts. Jean is a genius at Exy and everything he touches, and Jeremy is encouraged to try things because he wants to be a genius at something other than Exy, too. Jean looks at him in horror when Jeremy tries to surf, and this makes Jeremy burst out laughing and Jean puts his feet in the water to make sure Jeremy is okay when he falls off his board. Jeremy takes him for a walk along the shore to calm him down.

Jeremy would like to hold his hand, but he doesn't want anyone to say anything bad about Jean for being there for him.

But...

The more Jeremy gets to know Jean, the more scars he sees on her skin when they're naked in bed. More information comes to light about Jean's parents. More Ravens commit suicide. Jeremy learns more about Elodie and how Jean took care of her because their parents were horrible, but he also realizes they weren't the ones who physically hurt Jean so much.

With Kevin's hand broken and so many Ravens committing suicide, Jeremy thinks about Tetsuji and Riko, and the sheer reign of terror they had to establish. But... How did they allow this? How is it possible that the FBI is having so much trouble finding Tetsuji? How is it possible that no one in Evermore did anything? How is it possible that so many families remained silent about what was happening there?

Jeremy pushes those thoughts aside because he knows Jean doesn't want to talk about it, but there's something in his head that tells him Jean may be in danger, and that scares him. The alarm that sounded when he saw Noah getting worse and worse is on, and Jeremy can ignore it at Jean's request, or turn it on.

One night, the four of them watch a Foxes game. Jean criticizes Neil.

This isn't new, but Jeremy thinks about Neil and his strange relationship with Jean. Jeremy thinks that both have parents connected to criminal organizations and both were in The Nest. Why The Nest? Why did they go there? Why could Tetsuji do whatever he wanted without consequences for his players?

Why?

And Jeremy thinks about the Moreaus, the Wesninskis... About how two players connected to criminal organizations ended up in a place where people were abused to the extreme for financial gain. He thinks about Riko, who destroyed Jean and Kevin without them being able to defend themselves, and Tetsuji, who did nothing to fix it and fueled the whole thing. He thinks about the FBI looking for Tetsuji and that he's disappeared.

Jeremy thinks about millionaire Ichirou Moriyama, heir to a business empire.

Jeremy thinks about Jean, with his kind and protective heart, and how terrified he was even after leaving The Nest.

And then... Jeremy understands.

When he and Jean go out for a walk that night with Jab, Jeremy is very serious.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Jean's back stretches, tense. No one speaks for long seconds until Jean nods slowly.

Jean is ready.

Jeremy looks him straight in the eyes.

"The Moriyama family is like yours and Neil's, right?"

Jean's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything.

Jeremy doesn't need to.

Jeremy takes Jean's hand, which has lost all color and warmth, and kisses the palm. Jean's pulse is racing, but he slowly relaxes with his kiss.

"I'm with you, Jean. No matter what."

Jean is silent. He pulls Jeremy close and kisses his forehead with the warmth and love Jeremy has never felt before.

"I don't want to drag you into this. I won't."

"That's not your decision, it's mine."

Jean isn't convinced, but there's something absolutely liberating about the fact that Jeremy has guessed what's going on and continues to kiss his hand.

"I can't stop playing," Jean reveals. "Actually... It's not that bad. Not anymore."

Jeremy feels relieved by this, but also guilty for all the times he's said Jean didn't have to keep playing when he graduated. There's a lot he still doesn't know, but now he knows it's not that easy.

"Please don't leave me out of it. Whatever happens, don't do it. I won't allow it, Jean. I won't leave you behind."

Jean gasps, fascinated, unable to think. He's never seen Jeremy so serious and serene, so determined.

Jean thinks of Neil. Neil wouldn't put Minyard in danger, never, so there might be a chance for Jeremy and him. Maybe.

Jean takes a breath. He gently lifts Jeremy's chin and summons all the courage he thinks he has in this single moment.

"Okay. I'll tell you."

[r1ghtwherey0uleftme]

Samson: Yoon Jeonghan x Reader

“You are my sweetest downfall. I loved you first.”

Word Count: ~3k

Tags: Idol AU, Timeskip, Rookie Era to Modern, Monsta X Member! Male! Reader, Lovers to Strangers, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Sexual Content, Minors DNI

Summary: (Y/N) and Jeonghan are forced to break up by their companies when they catch wind of their relationship. Years later, Jeonghan publicly announces his relationship with another idol, and (Y/N) can’t help but feel bitter.

Author's Note: This is my first time posting something here in forever, sorry it took so long. Shout-out to my friend for proofreading all of this for me! Any feedback is appreciated ~

At one point in time, if someone had asked (Y/N) who knew him best he would have replied without hesitation, “Jeonghan.” (Y/N) would have expected him to respond in turn. However, even back then, that immediate response came with caveats. It was not something broadcast either. It was the kind of thing you hear whispers about backstage at music shows. Outside of (Y/N) and Jeonghan’s respective dorms, it was incredibly dangerous. A secret relationship between two idols, especially two men, was a scandal that could destroy both their groups.

Jeonghan used to swear that it had been love at first sight. Both of them had freshly debuted at the time, (Y/N) being his senior by a whole week. Fresh off the heels of No Mercy, (Y/N) and the rest of Monsta X had garnered quite a bit of attention with their explosive debut. Maybe the contrast was what initially drew Jeonghan to the older boy. Something about the way he performed just made it impossible for him to look away. On (Y/N)’s end, he couldn't help but notice the pretty boy from Seventeen who kept staring at him. 

It wasn't until ISAC later that year that the two properly spoke. At first, both were perfectly happy to go the entire event without actually talking. Alas, their juniors had other plans. Seungkwan ended up facilitating their first conversation. He marched over to where the Monsta X members idly waited, with Hoshi and a somewhat reluctant Jeonghan in tow. A part of “good sportsmanship” is what he called it. 

(Y/N) didn't exactly notice their approach at first. He was too busy resting his head on Hyungwon’s shoulder. Trying and failing to prevent himself from drifting off to sleep. 

“It seems like you guys are our competition for today. Just so you know, we’re not planning on losing, right?” Seungkwan laughed as he playfully elbowed Hoshi in the side. 

Admittedly, Seungkwan's enthusiastic greeting scared the shit out of (Y/N). He shot up immediately. So fast in fact, that he lost his balance completely. Before his group mates could react, (Y/N) found himself crashing into none other than the pretty boy from Seventeen. In his shock, (Y/N) had inadvertently taken Jeonghan to the ground with him. 

Jeonghan wasn't faring much better. If it wasn't bad enough that Seungkwan was forcing him to greet other groups, now he found himself underneath the boy he'd been ogling since their debut promotions. For a second, they just stared at each other. 

“Shit, I'm so sorry,” (Y/N) blurted out as he hastily picked himself up off of Jeonghan. A light blush dusted (Y/N)’s face as he offered a hand to Jeonghan, still on the gymnasium floor. 

“Ah, don't worry about it,” Jeonghan chuckled airily as he grabbed (Y/N)’s hand. “It happens to the best of us.” 

“Way to go (Y/N)!” Hyungwon shouted. “Yeah, way to make an impression Hyung!” I.M teased from across the group. Now that it was apparent the two were fine, the rest of their members began to settle into a friendly conversation. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” 

“Yeah, it's fine. Really.” 

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. “Sorry, again. Your member over there really caught me off guard. He's got quite the voice.” 

“Ah,” Jeonghan giggled, “you don't even know the half of it.”

“Still, let me make it up to you. Want to grab lunch sometime?” (Y/N) shrugged.

“I suppose, if you're that desperate to make it up to me.” 

“It's the least I can do. Does next Tuesday work for you?” 

Jeonghan pretended to think for a moment. “I can make it work, “ he smiled.

“Awesome, it's a date then,” (Y/N) grinned as a manager began to gather his members for their next event. 

“(Y/N)!” Shownu yelled as he took roll of the Monsta X members.

“Crap, I have to go,” (Y/N) turned on his heel with a quick wave before running over to join his group. 

Jeonghan was left alone, still reeling from the other’s final comment. For once, he was left speechless. 

“Hyung, are you sure you're not hurt?” Seungkwan asked, surprised to see Jeonghan’s red face and dazed expression as the Monsta X members left. 

“Yeah, sorry. What?” 

“Ah, this is no good. Hoshi Hyung come here. I think he has a concussion.” Seungkwan yelled as he led Jeonghan back to the rest of Seventeen. 

(Y/N) and Jeonghan got lunch that Tuesday, and the one after that. Before they knew it, they were meeting up whenever they had free time. Once they had access to their phones, it got even worse. It felt like every night they called each other, much to their roommates’ chagrin. Even when they weren't calling, it seemed like they were constantly texting. It became all too common for (Y/N) to start sentences with “Jeonghan said,” or Jeonghan to go on long tangents beginning with “(Y/N) and I”. 

Initially, they told no one. However, their members quickly began to pick up on the change in the relationship dynamic. They noticed the way (Y/N)’s gaze lingered on Jeonghan whenever they were in the same vicinity. As well as the way Jeonghan seemed to constantly have his hands all over the older man when they were together. Sure, it wasn't explicitly romantic. They were all idols; none of them were strangers to skinship. But it had reached a point that was hard to ignore. Did friends really hold each other like that?

It wasn't until Joshua walked in on them that the two were forced to admit the true nature of their relationship. Jeonghan had elected to stay behind at the dorms on one of Seventeen’s rare free days. He claimed he felt sick and urged all the other members to go enjoy the day without him. In reality, this was part of Jeonghan's scheme to get some alone time with (Y/N). 

Once Jeonghan was certain the other members had all left, he texted (Y/N) letting him know the coast was clear. (Y/N), who had been waiting at a nearby coffee shop, quickly made his way to the dorm. The second he stepped through the door, Jeonghan began to tear off (Y/N)’s mask and sunglasses. They quickly devolved into a make-out session as Jeonghan led (Y/N) back into his bed. It wasn't long before they had stripped each other down completely. 

“Shit,” (Y/N) gasped, “You don't know how badly I needed this.” His hands tracing the small of Jeonghan's back as the younger man began to mount him. 

“Tch, you say it like it had to be this way,” Jeonghan smirked. “If you agreed to come back to my place for the holidays, we could've done this much sooner.”

“Yeah, I'm sure your family would've loved tha…  Aaah fuck,” (Y/N) moaned as his length was engulfed by Jeonghan’s gaping hole. His nails dug into Jeonghan's back as (Y/N) began to thrust into the man on top of him.

“Come on Hyung, is that really all you've got?” Jeonghan taunted his lover as he nipped at his neck. “Don't tell me you're this out of practice now?” He laughed as he left a hickey right in the crook of (Y/N)’s neck, eliciting a sharp inhale from the elder. 

(Y/N) began to pick up the pace as he slammed himself into Jeonghan. “Fuck, Hani. I'm so close!”  

“Then finish,” he whispered into (Y/N)’s ear. With one final thrust, (Y/N) came undone, fully emptying his load into his lover. 

“You just completely lose if for me, don't you?” Jeonghan chuckled. “I guess it's kind of cute.” He remarked as he continued to pepper kisses across (Y/N)’s neck and chest with his dick still inside him. (Y/N) quietly snorted in response to Jeonghan's antics. He elected to wrap his arms around Jeonghan, pulling him down beside him on the bed. Both laughed. “Isn't it supposed to be my turn now?” 

(Y/N) grunted affirmatively, sliding himself out of Jeonghan lazily. He turned on his side, facing his ass towards Jeonghan. Jeonghan quickly followed suit, and aligned his own member with (Y/N)’s backside. 

“Aww, Hyung, did you prep for me?” Jeonghan cooed as he felt the distinct texture of lube while he broached (Y/N)’s hole. He nodded meekly in return. “You're so sweet,” Jeonghan giggled, “I guess I'll reward you for your efforts.” With that, he plunged himself into (Y/N), who quickly tensed around Jeonghan’s shaft. “Always so nice and tight for me, aren't you?” (Y/N) whimpered in response. “Can't even talk? I wonder what your fans would think if they saw how you crumble for me?” 

And so the two laid there, Jeonghan still inside (Y/N) as they began to drift off to sleep. Jeonghan haphazardly pulled a blanket a top both of them. It was just enough to cover below each of their shoulders. They stayed in place, just listening to the sound of each other’s heartbeats for what felt like hours until a knock at the half-open door pulled them both back to reality. 

There stood Joshua. He had decided to come back a bit earlier than the rest of the group to check on Jeonghan. Instead of a patient resting in bed like he had expected,  he found Jeonghan and (Y/N) lying together naked. The scratch marks across Jeonghan's back and dark hickeys blossoming across (Y/N)’s neck made it clear what Jeonghan's real plan for the day had been. 

Joshua's eyes met Jeonghan's own as the older of the two jolted awake. “You can't tell anyone,” Jeonghan blurted out before Joshua could say anything. An unfamiliar look of fear consumed Jeonghan’s face. “I'm serious. You can't say anything.” Jeonghan pleaded as (Y/N) began to stir behind him. 

“You know I have to, at least Seungcheol.”

In the bed, (Y/N) finally sat up, making eye contact with Joshua as he too realized the gravity of the situation. “It's bigger than you, you both know that,” Joshua's initial shock morphed into frustration. “How could you both be so stupid,” he spat, “This could ruin both of our groups!”  He turned and slammed the door behind him.

“JOSHUA!” Jeonghan yelled at him. He began to get up and give chase before realizing he was still entirely naked. (Y/N) just sat in stunned silence. They knew what they were doing was risky. That had never been a question. What (Y/N) hadn't expected was for it all to implode so suddenly. 

(Y/N)’s clothes hit him in the face. “I think you should go. I'll try to talk to him.” Jeonghan ran his fingers through his long hair. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan snapped in a way like he never had before. “Just get out of here.”

(Y/N) didn't have to be told again. In the blink of an eye, he had put on his clothes, gathered his things, and made it out the front door. He felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He held his breath. The last thing he needed was a photo of him crying, leaving the Seventeen dorms to add insult to injury. He wasn't really sure what to do. So, (Y/N) decided to walk. It wasn't until it was completely dark that he felt his phone go off again. (Y/N) whipped it out excitedly, instead of a pleasant message, he was greeted with a foreboding one: 

“When are you coming back? We need to talk.” - Shownu (Leader)

With that, (Y/N)’s fate was sealed.

After hours of thorough interrogation from Shownu and a myriad of Starship employees, it was agreed that (Y/N) and Jeonghan would meet with company staff first thing in the morning the next day... presumably to break up. (Y/N) could have dealt with it, if it weren't for the looks. The way his group members watched him as he sluggishly crashed in the dorm made his skin crawl. They were pissed at him, and understandably so. (Y/N) had put the entire group and all of their futures on the line with his actions. He knew that beforehand. He just hadn't truly reckoned with that before. But now, as it was time to face the music, all he could hear was their fury.

(Y/N) didn't sleep much that night. Instead, he stared at the ceiling and wondered if there was a way back from this. For his career, for his group, and most importantly to him: for Jeonghan. 

That meeting was the last time (Y/N) saw Jeonghan, or at least his Jeonghan. Over the next few years they saw each other, but it wasn't the same. They would bow at award shows, and maybe even give each other a quick nod. That was it. Neither dared push it any further than that. Following the breakup, (Y/N) had his phone taken from him for the foreseeable future. Even when he finally got it back, he didn't dare contact Jeonghan. He doubted Jeonghan even had the same number at that point. It still bothered him how his members looked at him, like he was some sort of animal. Although he regained some of their trust, it was clear they still saw him as a risk. They were careful never to leave him alone for too long. There was always another member or a manager at his side. It was as if they thought (Y/N) might pounce on any unsuspecting man unlucky enough to be left alone with him. 

Just as (Y/N) began to see a path forward, it happened, Wonho’s scandal. The name Monsta X was everywhere, from social media to the newspapers. He couldn’t turn on the television without a barrage of talking heads dragging his group member through the mud. 

(Y/N) couldn't help but be overcome by a sense of déjà vu. Part of him wanted to leave the group with him, but Wonho dissuaded (Y/N). “I’ll be fine,” he assured (Y/N), “the accusations are false and people would see that soon enough,” he said.

Still, (Y/N) didn't find it fair. He couldn’t help but feel like it all was some sort of divine punishment for his actions, just barely out of recent memory. With Wonho gone, he found it harder and harder to stand on the stage as Monsta X. So when a chance arose for (Y/N) to pivot to acting, he did so eagerly.

(Y/N) stayed with the group on paper, but it was clear to the company and fans alike he had one foot out the door. With each passing day, he began to be referred to less and less as an idol, while his stock as an actor continued to rise. Critics praised him for heartbreaking performances in dramas and endearing roles in romances alike. After sweeping the rookie awards that season, and as enlistments began to hit the group, it only became more apparent that (Y/N)’s time with Monsta X was coming to its natural end. He was doing well enough on his own after all. 

(Y/N) thought he was doing fine at least, until he saw that headline: 

“Seventeen’s Yoon Jeonghan announces relationship ahead of enlistment.” 

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh. Two parts of it bothered him. Firstly, that he was dating a woman. He should've expected it, (Y/N) supposed. Jeonghan had always had such an appetite that (Y/N) doubted he could stay celibate indefinitely. Still, it was weird to him. Imagining Jeonghan with a woman sent chills down his spine. The younger man had always adamantly told (Y/N) he was only interested in men. For Jeonghan’s sake, (Y/N) now hoped that it had been a lie. Gender aside, what really bothered (Y/N) about the relationship was Jeonghan's girlfriend's career. She was an idol too. 

(Y/N) wondered if she knew. She had to, right? Certainly, all his members knew, and there had been whispers for years following their breakup. Even fans suspected something had gone on between the two at the time. It was unnatural for two people who had been so close publicly to become strangers so abruptly. (Y/N) almost wanted to reach out to this woman. He yearned to know how they had met, if Jeonghan’s members had taken kindly to her, and an ugly part of him wanted to hear what Jeonghan had said about him.  But, (Y/N) knew he couldn't. It wasn't fair of him to disturb whatever new thing Jeonghan had going on just because he was still alone. Still, (Y/N) had one small comfort. He was there first.

[skulkiee]

Its late at night and i wrote a thing and i have zero regrets

Tormenting the Characters as per usual✨

"'Lochus-?"

"Polites." Eurylochus answers, cursing slightly. Polites had never been a heavy sleeper, and Eurylochus had begged his goddess to give him more and more time to complete this task so he could wait for the celebrations at the end of the war- so he could avoid it as long as possible. Everyone had drank rather a lot last night, and Eurylochus had hoped he would have had more time before Polites woke up.

"What are you doing?" Polites asks, a little more awake and aware. Eurylochus can't answer that question.

Not when he has kept his goddess a secret from anyone and everyone for almost two decades. Not when it's the middle of the night and he has Polites pinned down and a knife in his hand.

"I really, really, don't want to hurt you." Is what Eurylochus says instead, "But i will if you make this difficult."

Apparently that was the wrong statement because Polites punches him. In the face. And Polites is a good fighter, but he is not, nor has ever been stronger than Eurylochus.

"What are you doing, Lochi?" Polites asks again, his eyes wide and angry and confused but most importantly, scared. It hurts.

"I don't have a choice." Eurylochus hisses, "She wants you."

Hes not lying. His goddess- she insisted that it was Polites. She said the one he 'cares most dearly for', and then made it clear that that was not his decision. She made it clear she did not care for his love for Odysseus or Ctimene or anyone else.

Because the Trojans lost the war, and Paris died, and Eurylochus' relationship with Polites falls into Aphrodite's domain. It may not after this though- he watches blood from where Polites punched him drip down onto his lover's face.

"Who?" Polites- kind, caring Polites who is still worried about him- says when Eurylochus places the knife against his chest, point against his heart, "Eurylochus, who?"

Eurylochus opens his mouth to answer, to apologise, to reassure- he doesn't know, anything to get rid of the fear in Polites' eyes and stop the trembling he can feel from the body beneath him. But then Aphrodite's presence fills the room and he feels her speak through him.

"Do not worry, dear." She says, in Eurylochus' voice, but with none of his emotions, "It will only hurt for a little while."

Eurylochus wants to curl up and cry. He wants to hug Polites and beg for his forgiveness. He cannot do anything except watch because the goddess is puppeting his body, making him smile.

Aphrodite moves Eurylochus' other hand to be placed over Polites' mouth then, and Eurylochus knows that Polites can tell that this is not him and that makes everything worse.

"We wouldn't want you screaming and alerting the whole ship, now would we?" Aphrodite coos, "Especially not Athena's cursed little champion."

Eurylochus is the one who screams when he watches Aphrodite plunge the knife into Polites' chest- into his heart- though he only screams mentally, he still has no control over his own body.

He screams for Polites, for the fear of losing him and for the anger and because of the sheer agony in his lover's eyes. He screams for when Aphrodite moves him away and Polites' first instinct is to press himself into the corner of their cabin. He screams for the way Polites curls around the knife in his chest, hands clutching slightly at the injury, wanting to pull it out but knowing that that will make it worse, for the way blood spills down.

For the way Eurylochus' heart breaks when Polites stills, slumped in the corner, a knife to his heart.

Sometimes i wish you mortals loved as ferociously as us gods, and then i remember how dangerous that would be to your short lives. Aphrodite muses, letting go of her control over him, your precious lover will live, he will be- lets say fine, physically, by morning. Neither of you will speak a word of this to anyone, especially not Athena's brat.

Eurylochus sobs. He clings to her promise that Polites will be fine by morning though. And her threat.

~~•~~

"Hey Polites." Odysseus grins and sits down beside his brother in law, leaning back against the railing of the boat, "What are you doing out?"

Polites shrugs, "I wasn't tired." He mumbles, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders.

Odysseus immediately sits up a bit straighter because that is not Polites Behaviour, and because Polites looks exhausted.

"You look tired." Odysseus says, putting an arm around Polites and pulling him close, "And it's not like it's your turn on watch."

Polites just hums in agreement, and presses his hands against his chest, over his heart.

"Po." Odysseus says eventually, it was Penelope's nickname for Polites, and he had started using it a little before the war had broken out, "I know that you like... I know that you tend to not speak about your own emotions, like, a lot, but you can tell me anything."

The younger man just looks at him for a moment, and then rests his head on Odysseus' shoulder, "I'm scared."

"Of what?" Odysseus prompts gently. He expects it to be something to do with the war, they only left Troy's shores a week ago, and he knows most of the men have nightmares and are still running high off of the adrenaline of near constant battle. The gods know he is.

"For Eurylochus." Polites says, his voice barely more than a whisper, "Of Eurylochus. I don't know."

Well that certainly stops Odysseus' train of thought. He doesn't know what Eurylochus has done, and knows enough not to question, but he is a little worried about the 'for Eurylochus' bit, because it doesn't just sound like Polites putting everyone before him like usual, it sounds like something is actually off.

"Well." Odysseus starts slowly, "You can't stay out here all night-"

Polites flinches away from Odysseus, hands back against his chest, "I can't go to sleep with him there-"

"Hey-" Odysseus takes his brother's face in his hands, silencing Polites, "Hey, Po, I'm not gonna make you go to your cabin, you're okay. You're okay."

It's like comforting a scared animal. Odysseus isn't sure how to do it, and the sight feels like a knife in his heart, "You can stay in mine, or someone else's, whatever you want."

"Stay with you." Polites mumbles, "You've got Athena."

And that scares Odysseus more than anything else in this damned conversation. Because Polites has always been terrified of the gods- something happened to him that only he and Penelope know about- and he has always hated Athena.

For him to rather be near Odysseus and Athena than Eurylochus and whatever forces he is playing with- that scares Odysseus. It scares him so so much.

Athena would be mad at him for loving so much, for caring so much for Polites, Eurylochus and the crew. Odysseus is scared.

It gets worse the next day, when Polites and Eurylochus just act weird.

It gets worse over the next few days, when Polites seems to maybe be ill? Odysseus isn't sure, but his brother gets exhausted so so easily, and then he gets more hungry than usual too, and even Perimedes doesn't know what's going on.

Eurylochus looks terrible. He looks stressed and terrified and guilty. Odysseus hates it.

And then Polites gets something akin to a horrible fever, and a nasty rash breaks out over his back, and no one knows what to do.

~~•~~

You can stop his suffering. Aphrodite whispers to Eurylochus, a month after he stabbed Polites. Pick up the knife again, Eurylochus, it caused this, only it can take it away. Your lover is strong, both physically and mentally, he will last in this state for a long time, but even the strongest mortals would die to this blessing eventually.

How dare she call what they have done to Polites a blessing?

Eurylochus stares at the knife. It is still covered in dried blood from that night, he couldn't bring himself to pick it up after he tossed it across his cabin in anger and horror.

Aphrodite has been whispering, urging him to take the knife to Polites again for weeks now, telling Eurylochus that it would take his pain away.

Do it. Aphrodite snarls, more forceful than usual, Else i will let your dear Polites- it is the first time she has ever spoken his name- suffer until he dies a painful death. I will let my blessing rot him away until he begs you for death in every waking moment, do you understand, Eurylochus?

"I understand, my lady." He speaks to the empty room, and stands up, bloodstained knife in hand, and walks out of the cabin.

The night air is cool, it, and the sound of the waves and the murmur of the crew calms his racing mind. Eurylochus did this, he will have to fix it.

He knows Aphrodite wants something, and he doesn't know the lengths she will go to to get what she wants. He should never have gotten Polites caught in the crossfire.

Odysseus isn't in his cabin when Eurylochus enters, thankfully, but, as expected, Polites is. He looks only half conscious, lying on his front in Odysseus' bed, letting out little noises of pain every now and then. It hurts Eurylochus' heart.

Polites is thin, too. Whatever Aphrodite has done to him, it needs more sustenance than Polites can afford to give.

Eurylochus doesn't want to properly step into the cabin, but the goddess' voice urges him forwards. The smell of sickness hits him when he hovers over Polites' shaking, feverish form, and when he touches him to remove the bandages covering his back, he can feel how sickly warm he is.

And Eurylochus did this to him. On the orders- threats- of a goddess, not knowing what would happen, yes, but he still did it. He still stuck that damned knife in his heart, and now he is going to stick that damned knife in him again.

Four deep cuts down his back. Do it delicately, Eurylochus, you don't want to damage them. Aphrodite whispers, Two cuts on one side, mirrored on the other, you understand, yes?

Eurylochus doesn't ask what 'them' are, he doesn't want to know what the goddess has almost killed poor Polites over. He unwraps the bandages carefully, and his back isn't a pretty sight.

Eurylochus has no doubt that whatever Aphrodite has done to Polites will kill him if he doesn't do as he is told. He reaches over and places his hand on Polites' back, keeping him still. The warmth makes him feel ill.

Do it. Aphrodite hisses, excitement clear in her voice, I want to see them, i want to see my creation, it will be beautiful.

Eurylochus shudders and takes a breath. Then he cuts. He focuses on the knife so he doesn't have to think about the person beneath it.

He cuts in the pattern that Aphrodite had told him, one slit starting at Polites' shoulder blade, ending in the middle of his lower back, a second smaller one starting halfway down his ribcage but on his back, ending at the same point as the first, forming an arrow. Two more mirrored on the other side.

The cuts don't bleed. Eurylochus doesn't know how to describe what they do- pulse, maybe. He is terrified, yet Polites seems less in pain that he did before, and his body temperature has definitely dropped, which is good.

"I'm sorry." Eurylochus whispers, before turning and walking away.

He meets Odysseus just outside his own cabin, and offers him a small smile and a, "Captain." Before slipping inside and lying awake until dawn.

The knife goes back under his bed, amongst the cobwebs and junk. Out of sight but not out of mind. 

Two days later and Polites has wings. Four huge, white and pink and red feathered wings lying sprawled about him where he sits on the deck, scared and hurting.

Beautiful. Aphrodite breathes in Eurylochus' ear, Look, dear one, look at my beautiful creation. You will continue to help it grow into something that rivals even my precious golden apple.

Beautifully terrible is what it is. Beautifully terrible, just like that damned golden apple.

Eurylochus clenches his fists. He will make this right. He has to.

Ta daa

I have no regrets just apologies. There may be more idk ill see how i feel. I dont have any ideas for more though. Like what do you do in this situation

Actually i do have more ideas but it involves everyone suffering. Especially Polites.

I want to write Aphrodite being evil

[white-btterfly]

Thank you @viktorapologist for asking me to go to prison instead of hunting me down for that ending. Honestly, I'd probably be safer in there than out here with all the other readers coming for me!

Jayce is a starving man and Viktor is the a single cookie on a platter just out of reach. The way Jayce accepts that he's attracted to men and doesn't feel any shame about his desires is so refreshing. No reason to deny the obvious anymore, Jayce. Just let it happen. Just–just touch Viktor's curls, Jayce. Do it. Ignore the bad intrusive thoughts and let the good intrusive thoughts take over. (There's an alternate universe where Jayce's lack of willpower to rein in his desires gets himself into a friends-with-benefits situation with Viktor because they both refuse to communicate like proper adults)

Oof, that hurt. Rude. How dare you? Only I, the author, can hurt others with words! Jokes aside, this is an horrific alternate universe. I don't think Jayce would survive it. Having sex with Viktor while thinking Viktor doesn't love him back would break his heart. As said in this chapter (and others), Jayce is a romantic at heart. He wants more than sex. He wants a connection. Besides, that man is unable to lie or hide what he thinks. I don't think he would be able to pretend to only want a fwb relationship with Viktor for long.

It's so sad that Jayce thinks their dinner will be a chance to start over and get things back to normal. Oh honey, you've got a storm coming. Things will never be normal again if you take your best friend on a romantic dinner date. I see that the denial has just shifted to a different aspect of their relationship instead of Jayce's attraction.

This is Jayce's last attempt at trying to protect his friendship with Viktor, and also to protect himself from heartbreak. He knows exactly where he's heading now. He's onboard the Fall In Love With Viktor train, and it's rushing at full speed toward its destination. And he's trying to stop it with his bare hands. It's doomed to fail. But not trying would feel too much like losing Viktor, so he tries anyway.

Viktor touching Jayce's back. I SEE YOU VIKTOR. YOU SLY DOG. He's flirting so hard. And Jayce is so flustered! AH! They are so cute! And Jayce realizing that Viktor is going to get dressed up for their dinner and suddenly changing his plans? Oh my god. He's such a goner.

While Jayce suffers, Viktor is living his best life. Every little touch between them, Viktor does on purpose. He can't get enough of Jayce's reactions to them. He's addicted to them. They keep Viktor's hopes alive, while diminishing his symptoms. And it's such a joy to see Viktor act the way he would be if he didn't have Hanahaki to blind him. He knows Jayce likes him, and he's making a game out of seeing how red he can make him turn. This is how things should be.

Sometimes I come across lines that are just so in character, I just stare at them in awe. Like no one could have wrote that but you, but it's so true to the original material. Iconic.

Thank you!

Also, Jayce, calm the fuck down. Viktor would still love you if you showed up in the same Academy outfit you wear everyday.

True, but Jayce being in a sexy outfit made Viktor immensely happy. Same thing about seeing how Jayce's living room became a mess of clothes strewn around, proof that Jayce really wanted to wear something Viktor would like. They're so adorable, I can't.

Me saluting the lock of Jayce's hair that falls down in front of his forehead at the slightest provocation: thank you for your service.

Me, googling the name Jayce Talis and staring again at that small lock of hair: awww.

Jayce is hit with "an intense, irresistible urge" to kiss Viktor right after they meet up to head to dinner. I must disagree with Jayce on this one. We're off to an INCREDIBLE START. This is perfect! Even better than a classic rom-com movie.

Fun fact, I added the line "Not off to a good start" just a day before publishing this chapter. After I post a new chapter, I usually spend the following week editing the next one. I don't know if it's just me being a perfectionist or anything, but uploading the new chapter as a draft on AO3 really helps seeing if everything flows as I imagined. Being able to read it on my phone like a reader would makes it so much easier to spot little things to tweak. It lets me see the chapter with fresh eyes.

Viktor is reading him like a book too. He's flirting and watching the way Jayce gets extraordinarily happy each time. After so many chapters of Viktor in pain, we finally get to see Viktor enjoying himself. He's having fun teasing Jayce and making him flustered. Viktor is letting his guard down a bit. It's so sweet. This is why the fandom thinks Viktor is so attractive. He's got such a charming personality when he's around someone he trusts.

Oooh, yes. Exactly as I said before. This is how Viktor would be without Hanahaki whispering nasty things in his ear. He likes to tease Jayce. He knows Jayce likes him. It seems obvious, then, that Viktor would love to flirt with Jayce and make him flustered. As things should be.

(And I love how you talk about BYSS!Viktor as the Viktor... the canon one. Like I got him right, you know. It always makes me so happy!)

"Well, I am the Man of Tomorrow. Not the man of three weeks from now." I'm cackling! Why are all of the jokes so funny to me? God damn it. That one is so corny but I love it anyway.

Thank you. 😂 Viktor agrees.

And they talk about their childhoods at dinner! Bonding! Learning more about each other's pasts and using it as an excuse to express fondness? Ugh, it's so cute I can't. And as I was reading this the first time, I just excused all of Jayce's moments where his throat bothered him as him just being nervous about being on a first date. Which I'm sure was a tactical choice. Distract the reader with cute shit so they won't realize until it's too late that Jayce is FUCKING ILL.

Pleading guilty. 🥲 I thought everyone knew by that point that Jayce was sick (and yet I still managed to take some readers by surprise!) So I went all in with the nasty voice. And Jayce's Hanahaki is so mean compared to Viktor's. It's been really fun to write.

Sharing a tart. Just put me out of my misery. I need someone to draw them sharing dessert, leaning close to each other across the table, with warm candlelight and all that romantic table setting stuff. I'll hang it on my wall.

I would kill for any BYSS fanart! 🙏🙏🙏

Jayce blurting out his inner thoughts is the most useful plot device ever. No matter what happens, I can always count on Jayce to say some unhinged loverboy nonsense with his whole chest.

Jayce, complimenting Viktor's appearance every two minutes: that's what bros do!

Jayce, inviting a man up to your apartment on a first date? Scandalous!

He was so convinced it wasn't a date that he went all in and asked Viktor for some 'science and chill'.

(That's the second time I made this joke... It still makes me laugh.)

Oh my god, when they start playing the drinking game, I was so excited. I love little games that force the characters to admit personal things to each other. It's one of my favorite tropes to use and read about. It always reminds me of late nights with my friends, where it became a no-judgment zone where people admitted the deepest things (or dared each other to do stupid shit).

Drunken confessions are my favorites too. Nothing like two intoxicated idiots in love opening up to each other, asking questions they've been too scared to ask sober.

Jayce, don't just offer favors like that. That's dangerous. >:)

I love how we're all in agreement that Jayce had absolutely zero chance of wining against Viktor.

Viktor learning that Jayce only wants to be intimate with someone that he wants a serious relationship with! Hopeless romantic alert! Partners! Partners in all things!

I know, right? Also, now that I think about it, this chapter also shows a fundamental difference between Jayce and Viktor, which is that Jayce gets flustered about sex (as showed when they talked about masturbation), while Viktor gets flustered about love (as showed when Jayce asked him what Viktor liked about the man he loves.)

I love that they're using this opportunity to ask each other about previous relationships. That's so typical. They're both trying to test the waters. Could he possibly be attracted to me? Would I fit the description of his ideal partner? Is he feeling the same things I'm feeling? Just kiss already, you dolts. You've already almost done it twice.

They are literally saying that the other would be their ideal partner! What happened to them with their previous partner shaped them into being the perfect person for the other. Viktor I'm sorry you got cheated on. You deserve a loyal, devoted man like Jayce, who will spend the rest of his life making you as happy as one can be. Jayce, I'm sorry your girlfriend never supported you. You deserve a kind, supportive man like Viktor, who believed in you almost as soon as he met you, and who would do anything to see you realize your dreams.

They are MADE for each other! *screams*

Oh no, they're sitting there, answering deep questions and now their knees are touching? Shit is getting real. And then Viktor fucking flirts with Jayce and touches his little finger to Jayce's??? WHAT THE HELL??? @white-btterfly you go straight to jail, right now.

B-b-but why? I did nothing wrong! Since when is psychologically torturing readers a crime?

They slowly come to realize that from their failed past relationships, they're both looking something in particular...that just happens to be the person right in front of them. Of course. Of fucking course. This whole chapter is so romantic, I'm in shock. I should have known that I would be smacked in the face with SADNESS at the end because the rest of the chapter was too good to be true.

Yeah, sorry about the sadness. (Not really.)

(Thank you for making Viktor a switch. That man contains multitudes.)

I am a jayvik switch truther. I firmly believe that Jayce and Viktor love each other in all timelines, all possibilities, and all positions.

Okay okay obviously I've been reading the chapters as they come out, so I've already witnessed Jayce's epiphany about Viktor's feelings for him. But like, when is Jayce going to think back to their drunken confessions and realize that Viktor was getting off to the thought of Jayce? And admitted it with no embarrassment. I feel like Jayce had the whole romantic revelation, but I hope he has another revelation about how much Viktor has been yearning for him. They have a lot of things to express to each other lmao it's going to put me into a coma.

You're in luck, that part of the discussion will come up again in a future chapter! 😂❤️

I love that each time Viktor thinks he's crossed a line or misinterpreted something, Jayce jumps in with some poorly phrased admission of vulnerability that saves the conversation. There's no chance for Viktor to retreat into his shell. Jayce wants that connection and refuses to pull away, even though the voice in his head is getting louder and louder, denying that it means anything.

Jayce coming out as bisexual was the one thing that nearly cured Viktor's Hanahaki. Imagine being convinced for years that your best friend, the man you're in love with, is straight, and that you'll never have a chance. You bury those feelings, try to move on, try to live with the ache of being near him while knowing you'll never have him. Then you start noticing signs that give you hope... And then one day, after he confesses to you that he is attracted to men! Oh, joy! Hanahaki could do nothing against that.

Everyone's favorite trope, when one character describes the person they love in a specific but indirect way to while the person they love is sitting right across from them, not 100% sure it's them but hoping it's them anyway. Viktor is so fucking romantic, I'm going to cry. They deserve each other!!! And how Jayce fills in the pauses of Viktor's narration with his own admiration of Viktor. I am DECEASED.

My favorite part of the chapter. The one people had been waiting for a long time, apart from the confession chapter. Even now, when I read this moment, I feel so moved by it. Jayce fully acknowledged his feelings, and for one moment, he felt like he had found his real place in the universe.

(For one moment only...)

Viktor gives Jayce everything he needs to figure out the truth, in the end. But Jayce is too lost in the sauce (and manipulated by the cursed demon Hanahaki) to realize it. It's so sad, because Viktor had such a good time and thinks everything will be okay. He got all of the right signals from Jayce. Jayce admitted he's attracted to men, responded positively to all of Viktor's flirtations, and invited him up to have drinks in his apartment after a successful first date. What more could a man want?

The difference in vibes between them after that night is so jarring. Viktor left thinking he had the best evening of his life, thinking about his beloved all night (and possibly pleasuring himself while thinking about Jayce while he's at it.) Jayce, however, spent the entire night in a state of absolute devastation, coughing up moonblossoms again and again. Crushing.

Jayce shuts the door and hacks up an entire flower. The poor man. Say it with me, folks. Viktor fell first, but Jayce fell HARDER.

I think that's a tag I will add to the story once I'm done publishing. Many readers have been saying this!

I can't wait for the flowers to relinquish their hold on these two so that they can get the first kiss that they deserve.

How does it feel to be right? 😊

Before Your Sun Sets - Chapter 11 is available!

Viktor is sick with Hanahaki. Jayce would do anything to save him—whether it be by developing an impossible cure or trying to find out who Viktor is in love with to smack some sense into them. Little does he know, he’s chasing his own shadow.

Read chapter 11 now

Read from the beginning

[that-thief-in-red]

I’d really love to be tagged! (by anyone for that matter) I’ve enjoyed all the previous ones so much (even if I don’t always get a chance to reply—sorry in advance 😅). But yes, I do enjoy being tagged, so feel free to include me 🤗

Now for my little (longass) TED Talk moment: I totally agree with anon, and Mari (and looking back at the recent reblogs, what most people are saying!). The way people can be biased toward their faves definitely ends up overshadowing other characters. I think sometimes we get too comfortable turning characters into simplified versions of themselves, especially when they’re not the most popular ones. And honestly, I’ve always felt that about Julia too but never knew how to word it. She didn’t need Carmen to inspire some big change—she already believed in herself. She just needed people to actually listen to her. I love how it was pointed out that she didn’t really have a traditional growth arc. She was already strong and sure of herself; she just needed the space to show it Also yeah, that thing about her not being a genius but a problem solver?? SO TRUE. People act like you either have to be Sherlock-level or completely useless, and Julia lives in the middle ground where people like her actually thrive.

And the ACME point. YES. I dont think she ever really had a “lack of confidence,” but mostly had a lack of space to speak. Obviously just my own interpretation of the character and nothin more. I love my girl Jules, she's definitely a lovely character, as most are in the show. :)

AND SHADOWSAN my boii. I really do think he’s killed before during his time as an operative, and honestly? If it came down to it, like if it was between protecting someone like Team Red or himself, I believe he’d do it again. Not recklessly or easily, but without hesitation?

The thing is, ever since he met baby Carmen, he’s chosen not to. That decision changed everything for him. Unlike Carmen, who I think would rather sacrifice herself than take a life, Shadowsan has that deep, quiet willingness to do what's necessary. But the reason he doesn’t anymore? It’s because of her. Because she gave him another way to exist. I don’t know how else to explain it, but maybe I’ll try with a short piece—because wow, I really need to write again (it’s been forever 😭). (also this is more so my own headcanon)

Mari brought up the good ol' Shadowsan quote:

“I do not consider myself an evil man, merely a soldier with orders to obey.”

And honestly… I feel like what would’ve hit even harder is if he’d said, “I DID not consider myself an evil man.” I feel the small change would've done more. That he used to think like that. That following orders once excused everything for him. That he once believed he was just a product of his world—of poverty, of circumstance, of unfair systems that made “doing wrong” feel inevitable.

But then Carmen came along.

And she, despite every unfair hand the world dealt her, chose to do good. She was kind. Gentle. Protective. She cried over hurt turtles that washed up on shore. She gave more than she got, even when no one thought of her—long before she had Team Red. That kind of selflessness didn’t just impress him. It shook him. It made him feel.

Maybe that’s what unlocked his guilt and justification stopped working.

So now, he knows what he’s done. He knows what he’s capable of. But instead of hiding behind the word “orders,” he makes his choice of not being that man anymore. Not because it’s easy. But because a little girl once looked at him and still believed he could be good.

And honestly it’s more than fine to have favourite characters (I’ve got mine too, bias and all), but I think it does a disservice when canon gets bent too far just to fit what we want a character to be.

AND NOW curtain reveal for a short insight? Story.

“For if you choose this road, there is no going back.”

Shadowsan does not think himself a perfect man. Not the saviour in anyone’s story (Carmen might disagree). Not the hero in one of Zachary's overly dramatic action flicks.

At one point in his life, before the girl with sunset curls, before those steady grey eyes met him and softened without reason, before the gummy smile that screamed purity—he truly did not think himself an evil man. merely a soldier, as he once told her. A product of the world’s injustice. Obedient. Necessary.

He was wrong.

He was a man stained by his choices. Tainted by what he’d done in silence, and what he’d allowed others to do in the name of discipline and control. He sees it now, clearer than he ever has, and still wonders how Carmen doesn’t. Or maybe she does. Maybe she chooses not to look directly at it. Maybe she refuses to see the blood on his hands so she can go on believing in the better version of him. The one she calls sensei... Protector… and in one unmarked moment. Father. Maybe in her eyes, he is still a samurai. The kind from her childhood stories. Not the shame-soaked ninja he sees reflected in the mirror.

And yet he had chosen this road. Chose it easily, the moment his life became unsatisfactory. Not out of desperation, but out of want. Out of greed. He was a selfish man, once. He had told himself it was survival, just another hand dealt by an unjust world. But deep down, he knew the truth: he wanted more. More power. More control. He followed orders because they gave him purpose, yes, but also because they gave him permission to take.

And then Carmen came along.

This child, who had every reason to turn bitter. Who had no real home, no real past (that she knew of), no one to shield her but herself (for he was a coward and not enough) and still, she chose good. She was kind. Gentle. Protective. She cried over injured turtles and nursed them like they were sacred. She shared food, warmth, laughter, even when she had little of any of those things herself. Before Team Red, before the missions, before the name Carmen Sandiego meant anything to the world. She was already that person.

That selflessness didn’t just impress him. It undid him. It peeled back every excuse, every justification he’d clung to like armor.

Maybe that’s when the guilt began. Maybe that’s when he realised that obedience was not innocence, and survival was not absolution.

Now, he lives with it. The weight of what he’s done. He knows exactly what he’s capable of. The blade in his hand, the violence in his body, the things he used to do without hesitation. But he doesn’t hide behind the word “orders” anymore.

He makes a choice. Not because it’s easy. Not because it erases the past. But because one girl small, stubborn, impossibly hopeful once looked at him and believed he could be more.

And somehow, that was enough to make him try.

Even if she doesn’t know the full extent of what he’s done. He prays she never will.

But even if she did, some part of him wonders if she would still sit beside him like she does. If she'd still bring tea and call him "sensei" without flinching. If he'd still undeservingly hold the title of father in her mind

“There is no going back” Maybe that’s why he keeps going. Because he couldn't go back if he even wanted. Couldn't redeem himself no matter how hard he tries. Couldn't erase the past. He could only try to be worthy of the peace she gives him, day by day.

One breath at a time.

(IK THIS IS UNGODLY LONG BUT I ALSO WROTE THIS LIKE 3 DAYS AGO AND THEN I GOT CAUGHT UP IN WORK AND WAS NOT ABLE TO PROOF READ THAT MUCH OR ADD ON TO ANY NEW NOTES PEOPLE HAVE SAID, im sry lads)

I feel like some people really undermine characters they don't like and elevate characters they do, take gray and chase,

Gray, according to canon, is one of VILE's finest and dr bellums favourite student, we know from the book that he made inventions, there was a electrical grid something I don't remember exactly what, but it was there, also he beat all the ACME agents when he made his escape, but I've seen people thinking he's not competent, at least two the other operatives.

Then we have chase, who found VILE island and is very obviously clever but held down by his arrogance and unwillingness to listen to other people, he is not a himbo, but I've seen people make him incompetent in many fics.

Contrast to julia, who I've seen people make a genius, like no, she's not, yeah, she's academically smart, doesn't mean she's a genius, it takes a lot more than that.

-🐇

[flovverworks]

(person who was writing figaro & akira things) lots to think about in regards to akira w/ the (ex)northern wizards especially. lennox' white day event with the dishes inspired by your life and akira saying oz is something like a fluffy pancake perhaps (or whatever it was), & akiras actions toward oz in general (being very stubborn&honest when he's being silly about arthur, saying they wont summon another wizard if he turns murr to stone, etc) & their relationship (oz who can't use magic at night without akira, oz who's willing to listen to the sage's requests (even if thats transforming into a cat,,,,), oz who tells them not to forget their name, oz opening up about arthurs prophecy.....lots&lots of things). because akira knows about oz' past & has seen his strength (second anni.....), because the oz they know isn't the worlds strongest wizard oz but their friend oz,,,,,,,,,likeeee mithras similar too. knowing how strong he is, knowing he has killed in the past, but getting along with him so so well as well.

there's that part in early pt2 too where they speak about the sacrificium with him & 'doesnt it bother you to accept something from the twins' because it essentially puts akira within their circle of power? influence? protection? like how the twins protect their current village....but akira doesnt feel that way because they compare it to living within a country (even if thats also the part where they remark again that its tiring to deal with people sometimes). and i feel it ties in similarly.......?! figaro & snow & white are spoken of negatively a lot in the 'being kind' situations by the other northern wizards, but akira just doesnt have that pov/experience,,,,not to say they can ignore everything theyve done (figaros spot story help,,,,,,,,,,?????) but its. gestures widely. kindness in a person, kindness in someone's actions, being kind and being cruel, what's the goal, where did you grow up, the complexity of peoples thoughts and actions and being, etcetc....... lots to say in regards to figaro in general who initially shared he wanted to make the sage fall in love with him so he could manipulate their actions into world peace but also offered to listen to their worries (+ his tanabata event + card in general of his actions & surprise).

Because Figaro's a kind person—regardless of what Snow and White said, regardless of what Mithra and Owen said, but not regardless of Bradley. Everyone he known turned to stone and shackled as an example; see, there's good wizards who will help you defeat the bad wizards. For the sake of wizards and for the sake of humans Bradley had to lose the people he held dear. Akira could not disregard that.

do u get what im getting at <-speaking about things that arent deep at all