#i would say he's the worst out of all the villains i write

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

The only way i could see Canon Katara interested on Zuko is if he somehow did his Heel Turn long before the start of the show and has become a freedom fighter akin to Jet, but without the murder.

Obviously, this is impossible, there is no way that a young Zuko could become a better person without his exile, his enviroment is just not place that encourage

Sorry for the last question i send, i made a mistake and send it sooner than i wanted.

But anyway, what i tried to say that, even if that ridiculous scenario that i propossed where to happen, Zuko would be a very different characther from his Canon self. Plus even if he has become Katara's type, there is no way to know if Katara would be Zuko's type on that scenario lol

***

Once again, guys: pre-scar and exile Zuko was already dealing with a ton of bagagge, and post-redemption Zuko was already a "freedom fighter but without the murder." Katara saw him at this worst during all of book one, at his somewhat less of dick moments (Ba Sing Se), and at his best after his redemption - and she wasn't attracted to him at any of these points.

"I don't support war, genocide and/or murder" is the bare minimum for Katara to not want somebody dead. Compassion is an obligation, not something that immediately makes a guy be a potential boyfriend in her eyes.

We have the answer of what would take for her to be into Zuko, and that answer is not "He can't be a villain anymore" but rather "He can't be Zuko." He can't be a dork that says the wrong thing in a funny way, she'd get mad. He can't want to live in the Fire Nation, there's nothing there for her. He can't be as stubborn as she is, otherwise they're gonna fight (just look at how many times she fights with Toph). He can't take himself too seriously, she'll just mock him for it (ask Sokka).

She wants the guy that literally sweeps her off her feet to charm her, or the guy that notices she's feeling left out at a party, dances with her, and smoothly tells her to ignore everyone's eyes on them because "it's just you and me." She would NOT react well to a guy that screams "SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!" in the middle of their date (just see how well it worked for Aang when he went "I mean, if it was between kissing you and dying")

And we do know what Zuko's type is: Mai. Gloomy yet sweet, bitchy yet unbothered, out-spoken yet doesn't feel she owes anybody any explanations ever, can handle herself but likes being pampered, apathetic yet caring, has nothing prove yet can be quite arrogant, stubborn yet understanding, aloof to the world in general yet obviously crazy about him in particular.

Zuko might catch brief feelings for someone like Jin (nice, sweet and cheery), but long-term he needs someone as messy as himself so he can relate, but with the kind of mess that balances him out instead of encouraging his worst traits - the yin to his yang. He was not kidding when he said "You're so beautiful when you hate the world"

Katara loves life in general too much for her and Zuko to relate to each other in that regard. She doesn't even know what the word "apathy" means. She doesn't have an "unbothered" bone in her body. Girl went through a ton of trauma and still wasn't anywhere near gloomy, quite the contrary. And she has a bad temper, just like Zuko, which they both know is a bad combo, hence them surrounding themselves with more chill people (Aang, Iroh, Hakoda, Mai, etc).

They're not each other's type AT ALL, hence there being no spark when they become friends. Hence them being not just embarassed, but weirded our and uncomfortable when people mistake them for a couple.

There's a reason zutara fics re-write their personalities completely: there's no other way to force them together because they're fundamentally incompatible. The real Zuko would NEVER be attracted to the real Katara, and vice versa.

[insurged]

just some random thoughts and rambling on explaining ascended! astarion because i find him interesting.

his humanity, it feels like in visual terms, has been dropped into the middle of a vast and infinite ocean. he's trying to stay afloat but he can't as wave comes after wave. and in very rare moments, he resurfaces and that tiny glimpse of the person he was before is visible before it goes back under. i think it's fair to say that vampire lords are slaves to their vampiric instincts that naturally eats away at the remaining bits of humanity that vampires have left but on a stronger scale than that of spawns. i think it also amplifies his negative traits: aesthetic beauty, envy, jealousy, rage, it's almost as if he can't control these emotions at all and he has outbursts of one emotion to another. he is much more venomous and extremely arrogant, looking down on everyone whether they're his friends or not.

ascended! astarion also seems to have a different... laugh ? than astarion. it's deeper, hollow, and almost empty, as if he's at a wealthy party, just forcing out a laugh to fit in. i'm not sure he even remembers what genuinely laughing feels like anymore. 😭 ascended astarion in his modern verse is similar to his modern day verse, as an actor with a lot of power and influence who have changed other people in power to be his vampire spawns. unlike his normal modern verse, he is not under the control of cazador but he is cold and terrifying. i won't write this version of astarion unless specifically asked for, since he has all the red flags of a toxic relationship, whether it's platonic or romantic. he'll be condescending, bitter, cruel and controlling and i'm not going to hold back on it. he's terrible and awful but it's interesting to explore considering the possibility of him ascending. i've also decided that modern verse or not, i won't change the way astarion speaks. :)

[pr0cyon-lotor]

AU where instead of Shen Yuan being obsessed with Luo Binghe, he's instead obsessed with the scum villain himself. I mean we all know Bingge is Very Not Good Person™ but you know who else a Very Not Good Person™? Say it with me: Shen Jiu

Like just imagine a timeline where Shen Yuan is writing paragraph after paragraph about how Shen Qingqiu might actually be a good person but Airplane is wasting his potential. The other commenters are saying he's delusional because he abused the protagonist and as all these TERRIBLE allegations towards him. So he's a clear cut villain.

But Shen Yuan is defending his fav with the vigor of a devout worshipper. He's constantly siting parts that are obvious plot holes and how they could give much needed context to Shen Qingqiu's character.

Other people are demanding for worst things to happen to Shen Qingqiu to spite him. Airplane caves. Shen Yuan actively commissions art and fics where Shen Qingqiu is happy. People tell him "Shen Qingqiu won't fuck you bro"

Shen Yuan isn't interested in that. He's a freaky little man with freaky little likes. He'd gladly take Shen Qingqiu's cold glares and even volunteer to have tea poured on him.

When he finishes PIDW, he's been outraged that Shen Qingqiu was killed off a while back. He's even more outraged that Shen Qingqiu wasn't given any mention at the end.

Now, imagine with me that he gets transmigrated into some NPC, literally Unimportant Character No°5. Probably as the head disciple for drama reasons. And as soon as Shen Jiu is brought in, scruffy and hissing as he is. He immediately hugging his thighs and saying he'll be peak lord for sure.

Please follow me into this suspicious alleyway as I continue to explain my vision fueled by sleep deprivation.

So now imagine your Shen Jiu. You're a former street rat and demonic cultivator, you aren't expecting to be liked or respected. You're expecting it, you've come to terms with it a long time ago. What you weren't expecting was for this random ass guy you have to call da-shixiong is immediately insane about you.

He met you first day, literally saw you bite a guy, and immediately started spouting out how you'll be the next peak lord and the absolute envy of Cang Qiong Mountain. You conclude he's missing a few screws because he said it in the most disgustingly sincere way.

You try to continue on with your life, trying to beat him and he looks almost... Excited about you beating him. So he's an M, you think to yourself. But then you see someone trying to beat him or you on something, and this guy immediately gets aggressive. Okay so he's just weird with you.

You continue to deal with him. He's weird but also weirdly respectful. He leaves if you tell him to leave. He defends you like it's his very birth right. He's always there to tend to you as if you were a god. He doesn't touch you and only sits around like a dog waiting for a command.

You eventually get strong enough to beat him, and this absolute buffoon is over the moon about it, already spouting about your supposed success again.

When you actually become peak lord, it isn't surprising. Your hype man has been saying it since day one, he was expecting it for some reason. He continues to spout out nonsense about how he just knew you were going to do it.

So what now? You obviously desire him carnally. What is the next step?

Okay so I know this wouldn't fix them. Almost without question this would make they both worse. But, hear me out, it would be funny. (Especially since just know Shen Yuan's entire inner monologue would be him saying he's just being a good friend as if he isn't being the gayest man in the sect and Shang Qinghua is there. That's an accomplishment to outgay the author)

[edenaziraphale]

There's a lot to be said about the weaknesses and strengths of the writing in Dragon Age games, but for me there's nothing that trumps the way the writers' implicit biases shine through in their treatment of various characters. Anders and Solas showcase the very worst of this. Functionally Anders and Solas could (and I would go so far as to say should) operate as foils to one another. Anders is a victim of decades of abuse at the hands of both individuals and a system that demonized him from a very young age. We are given information about his childhood and time spent in the circle that makes it explicitly clear that Circles are an unjust and abusive system that traumatized him so much that he fled multiple times regardless of the fact that he knew the abuse would escalate each time he escaped. In the end, he chooses to chance death and lifelong struggle via conscription because it is his only shot at escaping his current reality. After that, in DA2, it's made clear that Kirkwall's circle is even worse. Karl is made tranquil, the templars are mad with power, and it's heavily implied that the tranquil are utilized as sex slaves and that some templars may even be selecting mages for tranquility based on their desire for them alone. In the light of all of that, Anders makes a very desperate and destructive choice. Regardless of how players feel about his actions, it's not really up for debate that the context surrounding them creates mitigating circumstances and a sympathetic backing. He was attempting to affect positive change for a group of people facing fates that the game makes clear are worse than death. Despite this, the game's writing treats him as an unsympathetic villain whose actions are not only reprehensible, but completely beyond the realm of human understanding. That dynamic at the end of DA2 carries into DAI. Solas, on the other hand, is on a quest to undo his own actions. His initial construction of the Veil and the problems that it caused can be viewed with (some) similarity to Anders circumstances in that Solas was attempting to right a wrong done by someone else, but the key difference is that, unlike Anders, who was a powerless victim attempting to free other powerless victims, Solas was on a revenge quest to avenge the death of his friend and had an incredible amount of power within the system that he existed as a part of.

His actions had horrific consequences that birthed what is essentially an entirely new existence for everyone in Thedas eons before the start of any of the games. He finds the outcome of his own actions intolerable, and seeks to reverse them. He harms friends and allies to do so, and makes it explicitly clear that he does not care who he harms or what the consequences are to Thedas or the people who live there in his quest to bring back the version of the world that he liked better. Functionally, Solas makes an excellent villain. He stands out from Anders (who operates in his narrative as a symbol of the rage and disenfranchisement of the powerless) as a representation of power and ego unchecked and the damage that they can cause.

Unfortunately, the writing of the game treats him as though he is the tragically complex victim of forces outside of his control when he is in fact the over-powered puppeteer. He is very much the master of his own destiny and he intends to be the master of everyone else's destiny as well by ripping apart the fabric of reality. No character in the series better demonstrates the writer's biases than Varric, who, as a narrator for DA2, essentially acts as the moral arbiter telling players how they should and should not feel about events, explaining what is and is not moral. His reactions to Anders stand out in sharp relief against what we see of his reaction to Solas in the Veilguard releases so far.

To be clear, I don't hate Solas as a character. I think as a villain, he works very well. His complete and total disregard for the wellbeing of others paired with his affect of wise and gentle mage are compelling to witness. His motivations are understandable from the selfish and self-centered core of us as people. He's a fantastic reminder of what happens when we decide that we know what's best with no input from others, when we pursue our desires above all else beneath the veneer of wisdom. He's fun, well rounded, and interesting. He is not, however, a tragic and morally justified sadboi victim of circumstance, and I resent that the writers treated him as though he was.

[tsukimefuku]

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body 

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our�� differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

 So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 

You could kiss him like this forever. 

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.” 

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

-

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

[brunchable]

POV: You're sucked into your Fanfic - Part Two

《 The plot goes off the rails. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Writer!fReader

Themes: Comedy - Chaotic Duo (mainly y/n), breaking 4th wall. Fanfic Bucky meets his writer.

Summary: Y/N, now fully aware she’s in her fanfic, tries to navigate the villain’s role but is terrible at it. Y/N tries to sabotage one of the villain’s main plans but accidentally makes things worse.

A/N: Y/N is just a clown at this point LMAO.

tags: @winterslove1917 @zeeader @iamdedsthingz @hzdhrtss @almosttoopizza

@yiiiikesmish

You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re in your own fanfic, but now comes the hard part: pretending to be the villain you wrote, a role you’re quickly realizing you’re terrible at.

“I can do this,” you mutter to yourself as you pace around your lair—or, well, the lair you wrote. “I wrote the villain. I know how to be evil... right?”

The words sound hollow even to your own ears, but you try to psych yourself up. After all, you can’t be that bad at playing the character you created... right?

Wrong.

You freeze at a loud thud echoing through the room. Oh no. That’s probably Bucky—or maybe the rest of the Avengers—coming to crash this part of the story. You know what comes next: an epic confrontation, full of dramatic one-liners and battle-ready glares. A perfect opportunity for your villain character to show off her menacing charm.

Only problem? You’re about as menacing as a kitten wearing a cape.

You glance toward the entrance, heart racing. Okay, play it cool, you can pull this off.

But deep down, you’re still reeling from the last time you faced Bucky. You were supposed to be locked in a super high-tech Avengers prison, right? Yeah. That lasted a grand total of two hours, mostly because your minions—and you use the term very loosely—broke you out.

To be fair, you didn’t even know you had minions. You didn’t exactly plan for that when you wrote the story. But, apparently, your villain character does. And when they broke you out, it was less like a well-executed heist and more like a disorganized clown car unloading directly into a high-security facility.

Imagine the worst rescue you can think of. Now multiply it by ten, add three explosions that were definitely not supposed to happen, and you have a vague idea of how badly it went. There were henchmen tripping over each other, one of them got stuck in the ventilation shaft, and another one kept calling you "Supreme Evil Leader," which felt flattering but... also very awkward.

To make matters worse, Bucky—looking all intense and broody, because of course he does—caught up with you right as you were awkwardly sliding into the escape vehicle, and the confrontation? Oh, it was a mess. 

You tried to give him a villainous speech about how “this isn’t over,” but it came out more like, “I’m... uh... not done here! Watch out!”

Then one of your minions set off a smoke bomb before anyone was ready, and you tripped over your own feet trying to make a dramatic exit. Classic villain move? Not quite. You barely made it out without face-planting.

So yeah. That’s where you’re at. This is round two, and you’re really hoping to do better this time.

Another thud echoes through the room. You swallow hard.

Okay, no more bumbling. This time, I’m going to deliver the villainous performance of a lifetime. 

You scramble to the center of the room and try to remember what your villainous character would say. You did write this scene, after all. It’s just... harder to do it when you’re living it. Especially when you know Bucky is about to walk in, all brooding and muscle-y.

Maybe if I just stand here and look mysterious? That’s evil, right? Just stare into the distance like I’m plotting something dark.

As the door bursts open and Bucky strides in, guns blazing (literally, because of course he’s carrying), you raise a hand, attempting to look menacing. “Aha! Bucky Barnes... we meet again!”

He pauses mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “You’re... dramatic.”

Damn it! Why did I write such terrible dialogue?

You cringe internally, but you push on. “Yes, well... I’m a villain. That’s what we do, right? Be dramatic?”

He’s not buying it. “Is this supposed to scare me?” His tone is flat, his expression unreadable.

You fumble for a comeback. “I—I mean, of course! You should be terrified of my... evil...ness.” You gesture vaguely around the lair, hoping it looks more intimidating than it feels.

Bucky takes another step forward, his metal arm gleaming under the dim lighting. “You don’t seem very sure of yourself.”

Great.

“I’m very sure!” you snap, but even you don’t believe yourself. You can feel your composure slipping. This is not how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to deliver a chilling monologue and strike fear into the heart of your enemies.

Instead, all you can think about is how Bucky’s muscles look even better in person.

Focus! You’re supposed to be evil! Stop mentally cataloging his biceps!

Bucky crosses his arms, clearly waiting for you to say something intimidating, but your brain is short-circuiting. 

“Look,” you start, hoping to salvage the situation, “maybe we could just... skip the whole fighting thing? We’re all tired, right? How about we just, I don’t know, chat?”

He blinks, clearly confused. “Chat?”

“Yeah!” you nod enthusiastically, jumping on this new plan. “You know, talk it out. No need for violence. I’m sure we can... negotiate.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “You’re stalling again.”

“Stalling? Me? No way!” You laugh nervously. “Okay, fine, maybe a little. But in my defense, I wasn’t expecting you to look this... uh, intense.”

He steps closer, clearly not amused. “You’re the worst villain I’ve ever met.”

“How many times are you going to say that?,” you groan, throwing your hands up. “I didn’t ask for this! Well, technically I did because I wrote it, but now that I’m living it, it’s way harder than it seemed when I was typing it up, okay?”

Bucky stares at you, utterly confused, as you ramble. “You wrote what?”

“Never mind,” you mutter, waving him off. “The point is, being evil is exhausting, and I’m not cut out for it.”

Bucky looks at you like you’ve lost your mind—which, honestly, you probably have at this point. You’re clearly not doing a great job of selling the “evil mastermind” role.

“Okay,” you say, standing up straighter, trying one last time to get back into character. “You know what? Let’s forget all that. Let’s just get back on track, okay?”

You strike a dramatic pose, trying to regain some villainous dignity. “Behold, Bucky Barnes, for you will never escape my clutches! Mwahaha—”

Before you can even finish your half-hearted evil laugh, the ground beneath you starts shaking. You freeze.

“Oh no,” you whisper, realizing that you’ve accidentally triggered the next phase of your villain’s grand plan—which you totally forgot about.

The lair begins transforming around you, mechanical arms lowering from the ceiling, hidden weapons emerging from the walls. 

What did I even write here? You try to remember, but it’s been too long, and you wrote so many twists and turns into this plot.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as the chaos unfolds. “This part of the plan?”

You wince. “Uh... yes? I mean, obviously.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You don’t even know what’s happening, do you?”

“Not... exactly,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s been a while since I wrote this, okay? But look, I’m sure it’ll all work out in my favor.”

Just then, a panel on the wall opens up, revealing a countdown timer with large, glowing red numbers. Your heart sinks. Oh no. Not the countdown!

Bucky notices the timer and shoots you a look. “What happens when that hits zero?”

You scratch the back of your neck. “Um, you’re not gonna like this, but... I think it triggers some sort of self-destruct sequence? Maybe. I’m not entirely sure.”

Bucky glares at you. “You think?”

“Look, I was going for high stakes when I wrote it, okay? I didn’t expect to actually be here!” you blurt out, throwing your hands up.

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re a disaster.”

“I know! But it’s not my fault! Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep your villain persona together when you’re staring at all this?” You gesture to him dramatically, feeling flustered. “You’re like... ripped.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by your sudden compliment. “Excuse me?”

“I said what I said!” you huff. “You’re ripped, and it’s distracting, okay?”

He shakes his head, still looking at you like you’re crazy. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told that before,” you reply with a grin, trying to distract him while you figure out what to do next. “But seriously, can we stop the countdown? Because I really don’t want to blow up right now.”

Bucky takes a step forward, eyes narrowing. “Then stop playing around and fix this.”

You fumble for the control panel, desperately pressing buttons at random. The countdown speeds up, and you wince. 

“Oh no, I think I made it worse.”

Bucky grabs your wrist, yanking you away from the panel. “Stop touching things if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“YOU TOLD ME TO FIX THIS!” you protest, but Bucky’s death glare shuts you up immediately. You shrink back, feeling the weight of his grip on your wrist as he pulls you away from the panel.

“You’re making it worse,” he growls, letting go of you. “Just… stand there and do nothing.”

You cross your arms, pouting. “Not my fault this whole thing’s a dumpster fire. I wrote it, but I didn’t think I’d have to live it.”

Bucky ignores your muttering as he works on the control panel, trying to figure out how to disable the countdown. You watch him for a moment, eyes trailing over his arms as they flex with every movement.

Focus, Y/N. Now’s not the time for ogling. Well… maybe just a little ogling.

"How are you so calm during all this?” you ask, hoping to break the tension—and maybe sneak in a little more flirting. “I mean, you’re literally disarming a self-destruct sequence with those gorgeous, dangerous hands of yours. It’s honestly distracting.”

Bucky doesn’t even look up, but you swear you see a flicker of a smirk. “You’re the one who set this off in the first place. Shouldn’t you be handling it?”

“Look, if you weren’t here being all Captain Broody and Muscles McGee, maybe I could think straight,” you snap back. “I can’t be held responsible for the chaos you create just by standing there.”

He finally glances at you, eyebrow raised. “You’re blaming me?”

“Well, yeah!” you say, gesturing wildly. “I was trying to be a villain, but have you seen yourself? How am I supposed to be evil when you look like you just stepped out of a superhero calendar?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, turning back to the control panel, but you catch a flicker of amusement in his expression. You might be bad at villainy, but at least you’re good at throwing him off.

You lean back against the wall, pretending to be casual as your heart pounds in your chest. “So... once we stop the countdown and we’re not blown to smithereens, what do you say we grab a drink? You know, to celebrate not dying.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Bucky mutters, still focused on the panel.

“I’ll stop talking when you stop being hot,” you fire back without missing a beat.

Bucky finally stops what he’s doing and looks at you, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Are you flirting with me right now? While we’re about to blow up?”

You give him a sheepish grin. “Hey, if we’re going down, might as well go out swinging. Or... flirting.”

“Unbelievable,” Bucky mutters under his breath before turning back to the countdown. With one final movement, he manages to disable the timer, and the red numbers blink out.

You let out a long breath, slumping in relief. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t entirely screw things up.”

Bucky stands up straight, glaring at you with his arms crossed. “You almost killed us.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t,” you say, flashing him a grin. “So technically, I saved us. You’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I prefer ‘charmingly chaotic,’” you reply with a wink. “But sure, impossible works too.”

Bucky shakes his head, clearly exasperated. “You’re lucky you didn’t blow up your own lair.”

“See? Lucky. I’m like a walking good luck charm,” you say, giving him a playful nudge. “So, about that drink—”

“Not happening,” he interrupts, cutting you off.

You sigh dramatically. “You’re no fun.”

Bucky steps closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. For a split second, you think he might actually be considering it. But then he says, “You still owe me for almost killing us. Get moving before I change my mind.”

You blink up at him, trying to ignore how flustered you feel. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a hero, you’re awfully grumpy.”

“And for someone who’s supposed to be a villain, you’re terrible at it,” he shoots back.

You can’t help but grin. “Fair point. But hey, I never said I was good at being bad. I’m more of a... chaotic neutral.”

Bucky shakes his head again and walks toward the door, clearly done with the conversation. “Let’s go. And try not to trigger another self-destruct sequence.”

Before you can even muster a comeback—probably something sarcastic about how it’s hard to be a villain when you’re distracted by muscles—you suddenly feel a strange tug, like someone’s yanking you backward by an invisible rope.

Your eyes widen. “Wait, what—”

The room starts spinning. One second, you’re staring at Bucky’s very serious, very grumpy face, and the next, it feels like the entire lair is collapsing around you. Everything blurs together in a whirl of colors and lights.

“OH MY GOD, AM I DYING?!” you scream, arms flailing as you try to hold onto something, anything. But there’s nothing. Not even Bucky’s annoyed expression to anchor you.

For a brief, panicked moment, you’re convinced this is it. This is how you go out. Flung into the void for writing bad fanfiction. What a way to go.

Then, with a pop, you land face-first into... your bed.

You blink, completely disoriented. “Wait... what just happened?”

Your laptop sits open beside you, the fanfic document staring you in the face like it’s mocking you. Your head is spinning, your heart racing, and you slowly sit up, still convinced you might be hallucinating.

“No way...” you mutter, glancing around your bedroom, taking in the very non-evil surroundings. The smell of laundry detergent. The sound of traffic outside. Your cat, Felix, staring at you from the corner with a look that clearly says, What the hell was that?

“I’m... back?” You pat yourself down, making sure you’re all in one piece. No villain outfit, no lair, no brooding super-soldiers demanding you fix things. Just... reality.

It hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh my God, I got kicked out of my own fanfic.”

You collapse backward onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I didn’t even get to redeem myself! Or finish flirting with Bucky! Not that I was doing a good job, but still!”

Felix hops onto the bed and meows at you, completely unimpressed with your current existential crisis.

You groan, pulling the laptop onto your lap and staring at the screen. “Well... I guess this is better than being trapped in my own chaotic, terrible story. But man, I was so close to redeeming myself. Kinda.”

Felix bats at your laptop as if to remind you of your priorities.

“Fine, fine,” you mutter, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I guess I’ll just... write the rest of the story like a normal person.”

You pause, glancing at Felix. “Do you think Bucky misses me?”

Felix’s blank stare is the only response you get.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you sigh dramatically. “He probably doesn’t even remember me. I didn’t even get to finish my evil monologue.”

You sit up on your bed, still reeling from your sudden ejection from the fanfic world. Your brain is buzzing with one thought: I need to go back.

Sure, your villainous arc had gone off the rails, but you were so close to turning things around. And, let’s be honest, who wouldn’t want to try a redemption arc when it means more time with Bucky?

You rub your temples, staring at your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe. “Okay, okay... maybe if I just... concentrate hard enough, I can get back in. That’s how it works, right?”

Felix watches you with his usual disapproving stare as you gather all the determination you can muster and lean in toward the laptop screen.

“Come on, just suck me back into the fanfic,” you mutter, inching closer to the screen, squinting at it as if somehow willing yourself back into the story would do the trick. “Please?”

Nothing.

You frown. “Alright, time for desperate measures.”

With a deep breath, you slam your forehead into the laptop screen.

Thud.

“Ow!” you yelp, clutching your head as Felix meows at you like, What is wrong with you?

“That didn’t work,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead. “Okay, let’s try something else.”

You get up, pacing back and forth. “What did I do last time? Maybe if I type something... yeah, that’s it! I’ll just type myself back in!”

You sit back down, hands flying over the keyboard as you try to rewrite yourself back into the fanfic.

“Y/N is sucked back into the story... um... gracefully and... with a cool villain pose!” you type, nodding to yourself. “Yeah, perfect.”

You press enter with a dramatic flourish and then wait.

...

Nothing happens.

You stare at the screen, blinking. “Okay, rude.”

Felix hops up onto the desk, flicking his tail in annoyance as if to say, Even I know this is a terrible plan.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumble at the cat, shaking your head. “Maybe it needs more drama.”

You jump up from your chair and dramatically yell, “I SUMMON THEE, FANFICTION WORLD! BRING ME BACK TO BUCKY!”

Felix stares at you, completely unimpressed.

Still nothing.

“Why is this so hard?” you groan, leaning over your laptop like you’re trying to psychically connect with it. “Come on, take me back! Just throw me back into the chaos! I’ll do better this time, I swear!”

In a fit of frustration, you try slapping the screen. Then gently caressing it. Then hugging the laptop like it’s some magical portal that just needs a little love.

Felix meows again, this time louder, as if to say, Seriously, stop embarrassing yourself.

“Fine!” you huff, letting go of the laptop. “Maybe I need to... I don’t know, meditate my way back in. Channel my inner villain.”

You sit cross-legged on the bed, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “I am a powerful, misunderstood villainess. Bucky Barnes cannot resist my charm. Take me baaaaack...”

Silence.

Your eyes pop open and you look around. Still in your bedroom. Felix gives you an unimpressed side-eye.

“Ugh!” you groan, throwing yourself backward onto the bed in defeat. “I’m stuck here. Forever.”

Then, out of nowhere, your phone buzzes. You lazily grab it, fully prepared to ignore the world, when you see the time.

Your eyes widen in horror. “Oh no... I’m late for work!”

You leap off the bed, tossing Felix an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta go! Villainy will have to wait! Please don’t tell anyone how badly this went!”

In your panic, you nearly trip over your slippers as you rush to grab your bag and dash for the door, realizing that while you might have been kicked out of your fanfic, real life is waiting—and it doesn’t care how close you were to a redemption arc.

As you race to get ready, you can’t help but mumble to yourself, “I swear, next time I get sucked into a fanfic, I’m writing myself as the hero... and with a better wake-up plan.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What're your thought on Skully/Skelly so far? Personally, I like the kid, he seems fun and cute (might even adopt him too lol)

I’ll make an update post later once the full event is out; this post will be my first impressions of the guy! Thought it might be interesting to document my feelings now and see how those change over time.

First thing I’ll say is while I like his design, his personality didn’t match my expectations. I expected him to be polite yet also eccentric and a little sinister, not… going around kissing the hands of everyone he meets. Skully also comes off as much more harmless than he appears. It’s an odd mix of demure but also really excitable when his special interest (Halloween, lol) comes up in conversation. A fun-loving guy! He definitely looks a lot more imposing and mysterious than he actually is.

I think a lot of his intimidation factor comes from the shades. If you take them away, he looks more like a dejected fuzzy animal or a Halloween-flavored Idia/Saeran (Mystic Messenger boi). LIKE SORRY BUT WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE A SAD PUPPY LEFT OUT IN THE RAIN… His spiral eyes are cool though ^^ It’s just slightly hard to see sometimes because of the shadow his hair casts and the shading around that area.

His overall expressiveness is great! He looks cute when he smiles and blushes (from his idol complimenting him, haha). It feels very pure and innocent, which contrasts with his more… deranged expressions.

The way he speaks surprised me too… He talks about coming from a rural place, but he speaks so formally! Sometimes even more formally than Jade. I wonder if that implies being of high class/social status or if he just taught himself to speak this way for personal reasons. My worst nightmare (hah) is that Skully devolves into a heavy Kansai accent later in the event (if only because I’m not sure how to transcribe the Kansai accent into English when I write his dialogue 💦).

I mentioned in an earlier post that Skully’s outfit is a Nightmare Suit provided by the book. We don’t know what he actually dresses like irl which is a shame. Knowing that would really help with getting a read on his character, even if he were just in a school uniform (because different people can wear their uniforms very differently, as we can see in the NRC School Uniform line of cards). Stuffing Skully into a Nightmare Suit by default doesn’t tell me much about how he presents himself outside of the book, in reality.

There’s definitely a lot of interesting (and vague) lore around him 🤔 like how he doesn’t know what magical pens are and how his hometown is the only place that knows who Jack Skellington is… Hopefully those questions get answered by the end of the event. I also have to wonder why he’s such an intense Halloween otaku??? There could be no deep reason behind it, but I’m a little suspicious since this is a Halloween event. It feels like Skully’s hiding something and/or he’s not confident in himself since his dialogue implies he’s a loner irl. Maybe he’s attracted to the idea of Halloween because even the dead and creatures of the night can fit in (so he, the outcast, can also have a place among them)?

That being said, I do find Skully’s personality charming, especially when he’s opening the event with his little dramatic monologue about Halloween. It’s a nice way to interpret Jack Skellington’s whimsy and child-like wonder into a Twst character. However, I don’t exactly find myself completely endeared to his character yet. He feels a little too… safe? Too… sweet. Unless this was all intentionally and he's actually a RSA student or something/j I’d like to see more of his villainous traits and weaknesses on display to get a full scope of his character. *rubs hands together* I want to see what he’s like when he snaps… We already saw some glimpses of his nastier side when he calls his classmates worthless for not understanding him. I want to see that unleashed on the NRC students! As is, I’m not sure if I enjoy him talking down to others (he calls his classmates worthless) for not being on the same wavelength as him when it comes to his interests. It feels like something elitist otaku do (Idia has definitely done this), and that’s a big yikes for me.

[poisonheiress]

Someone needs to say it: The "Heaven is actually bad" plot line that Hazbin is based around is useless when you spend more then 2 minutes thinking about Vivzie's Hell and her characters.

Besides it being much too early for this idea, the revelation that Heaven or at least the beings running it aren't good people has little to no impact when the people who are being harmed by this are all horrible people. Stay with me here. None of these people are people who were unfairly brought into hell and we are never ever introduced to someone who was either. Why should we care that Heaven is "evil" and blocking redemption when all the sinners in hell we see are the worst of the worst who would have never gotten in even if it was fair.

For the "Heaven is bad" plot line to actually work, you need people who were just one sin away from Heaven, who would've gotten into Heaven if circumstance hadn't forced them down a path that stole it from them. You need characters who aren't comedic villains but land in the middle of morally grey. Those who deserved to be in Heaven but because Heaven refused to consider their circumstances, they were tossed to burn with people much worse than them. Those are the people who should be your main cast cause those are the people who would actually be impacted by Heaven being bad/ Heaven lying.

Angel dust, for all his trauma, was still part of the mafia and likely had killed people before (showing to almost take joy in it). Husk became an overlord and gambled souls, so he had to have had blood on his hands before hell. Alastor is a serial killer, and the list goes on and on. Sure, these characters are (somewhat) interesting, but they don't make for good characters to have when the key plot line is that Heaven is a scam. Even if that fact is true, none of them were ever going to get there in the first place and this is something we also se in every single background sinner shown in Hell too. They were never close to getting there, so why would they or we care that Heaven is bad when all sinners are shown to be horrific people who are at best in the dark grey area of morality.

If you look at it from the "angel's are unfairly killing sinners" route, it still doesn't work. If the angels are killing them, what makes it different then the sinner on sinner violence that hell is full off? Why is them dying by angels this bad thing when they are just as likely if not 10x times more likely to get knifed in the back by other sinners in hell the other 364 days, especially when everyone here apparently is just as horrible as the next person. You cannot condemn the angels for killing demons and then make a joke of out sinners killing each other and never show sinners who doesn't want to kill people. Life either matters or it doesn't and when the main cast doesn't even show a care for life (outside of Charlie's who's entire flaw is her naivety), why should the audience.

On top of that, Vivzie's whole overpopulation aspect and the Heaven plot line would connect better if she actually had people like those I mentioned above, people who stole to survive but got tossed out cause stealing is technically wrong, people who killed another to protect someone else but were still sent to hell because even though they saved that person's life that person wasn't supposed to be saved, people who passively engaged in sins but never really did anything harmful under them. This would add into how Hell is so overpopulated and highlight why its so important that Heaven is evil/ why Charlie's plan isn't just a naive pathetic fever dream.

In the end, Vivzie should have never made Heaven the central plot of this show nor tried to assign this blatant good vs evil to that conflict. Neither her characters nor her writing choices are able to respond to this conflict in a way that will end or even tell the story in a satisfactory manner.

[blingblong55]

...Ready for it? -Vladimir Makarov NSFW

Based on a request:

The lack of Makarov content here is killing me, I was wondering on a enemies to friends with benifits type thing with Makarov (he would be in a absolute denial that he even develop feelings for someone especially if it's his own enemy) --- F!Reader, dark romance, enemies to friends with benefits, smut, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, some fluff, knife!play, blood!play, MDNI ----

A/N: dear anon, its okay to love villains...they are hot either ways

Sworn enemies, forever to wish death upon the other. Unsuspecting eyes and hearts. Your gun, blazing as it hits his plate, "Fucking bitch," he calls out. You chuckle and shoot at him again, better luck next time, you wish to say. One goal: to dominate the underworld of evil. This is what life was like between you and him. Konni Group and the enemy, Kasper Team. Turn the light on and it's the same kind of killer on both sides, commanded by two fucking masterminds. The devil whispered his wishes to Vladimir, whilst Satan herself moaned the desires into your ear. Hate, absolute fucking hate is what you and he had for each other. 

He did some bad things in his life and fucking around with the mistress of evil you had become was the worst thing he did. A dagger, the same one that carved your name, is now in his hands as he makes his dogs sniff out your hideout. You teased him with every glance, you can never catch me, is all your eyes gave out. And oh boy was he after you like a hound. At every corner, his eyes looked for the silhouette of you. The curves and that evil grin you gave him. Lips he wanted to hear him beg for their life. 

It was June when you visited Poland for some hacker you sought after. That hacker belonged to him. In a world of evil, you always need some shit nerd to do your job. He sat on the desk, waited and waited until you walked in. Posing as the hacker was one thing but to have you in that room, alone was another. Dangerous, your glare on him said. "So, are you in?" You asked the 'hacker' but the one who turns to answer holds a gun. "Ask again, doll," he chuckles deeply and you shake your head. "Un-fucking-believable." Once he was in front of you, his hand went to your waist, "what's the matter? Don't want to dance with the devil?" His gaze teased yours this time. 

"Don't you fucking start, Vladimir-" and in that instant, he began the game of cat and mouse by kissing your lips to keep you quiet. Once he pulled away, he laughed knowing that for the first time, he kept your pretty mouth shut. "Now listen to me, you may think you are a step or four ahead of me but doll, you are playing with the wrong darkness," his hands grip your face now. "What do you want?" you bite. "The missiles and the codes for the safe houses," he responds. You try and look away but his grip is stronger. "Don't you fucking look away from me!" he barks. Then he feels it, the gun pressed to his crotch. 

"Don't you know you are playing with dangerous game here?" the gun pressed harder to him. "You think you can scare me? Darling a girl like you is a mere speed bump for me," his face and yours closer. "A dog like you is another bag of bones for me," your finger closer to the trigger. "They are here," one of his men informs. That stupid fucking task force. "Ivan, entertain them for me," he commands. From a distance, guns and screams can be heard. "Can't fight them off yourself?" you tease him. "Darling I would, but you are one messy girl who needs to be taken care of first."

"Let's make a deal, you give me 141's files and I give you three missiles." you write the demise. "Add a code to it and we have a deal. and what's with you and those men?" You nod in agreement, your gun back to its safe place. "Let's just say they are playing in the wrong backyard." He then nods and hands you a piece of paper, "Why don't we end them together, maybe then you'll be my only headache." You grin, "I want to be your migraine," your lips close to his and before he even dares to lean in, you walk away. "I expect those files, Makarov." You place your mask on and your men escort you. "Better stick to your end," he calls out. 

Once back at your headquarters, you look at the piece of paper he handed you. "Let's call a truce for now. Let the games begin." A smirk on you. 141, codes and missiles, a game for demons to play with. Days pass the truce is set. He walks into your base, then he greets you. "R/N," his hand holding yours as he kisses it. "Never took you for the gentleman type," you comment. "You're in for a treat, doll," he walks past you like he knows the base. "Office, no?" You nod and walk alongside him. No one to bother you for hours as he and you talked about ways to end all targets and focus on who was more evil. 

Curtains closed as you and him created poison for all mutual enemies. Maps, plans and bullets are all that are displayed on a desk. "Be smart, don't play just because you want to. If you need them to be killed, take the first target," he places a bullet down on the map, "here...and once you do, all else will be easy to kill," he instructs. "Then make sure Chimera is isolated and bring some of KorTac, that should keep them entertained," you draw the names with a red pen. "We make a good team, R/N," he smiles. "Focus," you say and look at him. 

Near night, his men drove you and him to a hotel, to not stay there for a warm rest but to look for potential hideouts for the upcoming war. As he and you constructed what was known as Operation Cleanstreak, he observed you in a different light. You and him, both under tension when his hand slides to your waist. "Don't. Do. That." your voice was stern. "C'mon, we both need it, and I sure want it," his lips brushed your neck. "Be a good girl and kiss me, yes?" You back away and chuckle, "Horny so soon, tsk tsk tsk," you shake your head and cup his face. "Listen to me here, I am not going to get caught fucking you," and just before you were going to tease him, he gives you puppy eyes that gaze from your lips to your hot fucking stare. "Fuck it," he whispers and kisses you deeply, his tongue slipping into yours. He needed a taste of your poison, kill him with it because he would be addicted by the end. 

He pulls away, catching his breath and before he looks away, he finds that his addiction to the kiss spreads like a disease because in an instant, he gets pulled back and you kiss him. "Thought you were a gentleman?" you say between kisses. "Oh, you are in deep," he pushes you to the bed, his blade close to your jeans. "Be a good girl and let all know tonight I claim this pussy," his blade cuts your clothes open and he gets down, kissing your inner thighs and nibbling on them. Some of your blood drips out, he looks at you, "Ooh, did my princess get cut?" he gives you a playful pout and licks the blood off. A groan from his lips falls out when he tastes it. "Sweet divine," he whispers and sucks on the cut. Your blood still dripping out as he spells his name with it on your chest and when it doesn't all fit how he wants, he cuts your shirt open and spells it all out. "Look at that," he undoes your bra and slaps your tits a few times before sucking on them and groaning. His mark belongs to you. Suits your pretty body either way. 

Without warning, he licks his fingers and as he once more cuts another fabric of your body, he sticks his fingers into your cunt. "Already wet?" he teases and slaps your pussy, mercy out of the bed this night. "Fucking slut, aren't you?" he continues to slap your cunt and watch as you moan and whimper. "Take it," he growls and soon, gets on his knees and begins to eat you out. His tongue feels so heavenly on your cunt. The noises that filled the room, all moans, groans and the wetness of your cunt, were to be heard by two evil lovers. His gaze was either on your or your gorgeous tits. Often his eyes would flutter from how amazing your cunt tastes. 

He gets up and fingers you as he kisses your neck and lips. Never did he think he'd be fucking the girl who gave him reasons to be even more dangerous. When you began to rub your clit, he slapped you and went to grab a rope to tie you to the bed. Only he can please you. You mewl as he made you more and more sensitive and once he knew your cunt was ready for him, his fat and girthy cock slips inside of you. You cry out, tears running down your soft face. "I know, I know but you can take it," his thrusts were slow and gentle, getting you used to his size. Your cunt clenching around him, making it an even better sensation as he fucks himself into you. 

"Fuck...oh...just like that," he caresses your tits and groans. When he knew you were well used to him, his hands flew to your hips and began to go faster. Your back arching, he can see his bulge on your tummy, his thumb pressing on it, making you moan more. "Oh you like that?" he smiles and does it again. A knot inside of you, building that sweet orgasm. Your face flushed as he can't seem to stop claiming your pussy with his fast cock. "Vlad-...fuck-i...n-ngh..." You were now more than drunk on him. His fingers rub on your sensitive clit and then he feels it as he hears you cry and moan. Your juices coating his dick. "Oh princess," he moans. 

He can't hold on any longer, his cum writing what no other man could claim again. Your tight pussy milking him, his cum filling you to the brim as he leans in and kisses you, his thrust slow before he pulls out. Rough hands cup your face, "Did you like that, beautiful?" he whispers and kisses you, waiting for an answer. "Loved it," you say between kisses and he grins. You whine when he stops touching you completely, he gets dressed, "Good night, R/N," he closes the door as he leaves. 

Months after that night, he sees you again. It was a one-night stand, no, this meant something to him. Every night for all those months, he would send you files of Task Force 141, in the bag with each file, he made sure to send a disarmed grenade with your name and a flower attached to it. His own hands wrote your name, over and over again. He swore it was to make sure you never forget what you let him do to you but deep down in a sick way was to thank you for letting him have you. And as you met him again in that lonely office at your base, he acted cold. 

You acted cold too, but it was to guard yourself from him. His gaze noticed that hidden in that room were all the grenades that held your name. His heart flutters and a smile creeps to his face. He did it, wrapped his arms around you and when you slapped him, he chuckled. "Do it again," he whispers. So you did, you kept slapping him until he kissed you. Not believing himself, he did it again, kissed you over and over, love is for the weak and now, he is weak. "Don't leave again," you whisper as he rests his forehead against yours. "Think you'll be seeing more of me, my love," his voice soft for the first time in his life. You smile and he kisses your forehead, his strong hands bring you close to his chest. His chin is on your head as you bury your face in his chest. Comfort and love were found in that office that night, grenades and flowers were kept in that office too. 

A/N: Not my fault the devs made him hot...

Tags:

@goldenmclaren @selarus @kielsegur @palomesa @kaska127 @thefragmented @rowrowrowyourboat13 @liyanahelena @aethelwyneleigh27 @alhaizen

[ultralightpoe]

Anti-hero - Roy Kent

Authors Note : Based off a request I got {Could you do a Jamie or Roy fic with a girl who feels self conscious as their date to a gala or something? Lots of fluff and comfort! If you don’t want to write it, no worries 💜} A quick reminder that you are all beautiful and truly wonderful. You all deserve the world, and I hope you all find your own Roy Kent. -Ultralightpoe

Word Count: 3,997

Warnings: self doubt. curse words

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @50shadesofpemberlypost )

x Enjoy x

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

When my depression works the graveyard shift

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

- 

It had been an issue for years, one that was directly caused by your mother. 

It’s not that she was a villain, and it wasn’t like she knew she was doing it anyways, it was always something that just managed to slip out of her mouth in passing moments . A quick ‘that shows your back fat’ there and a ‘are you sure you like that color? It washes you out baby’. Always said with that tone that made you rethink every decision in life. 

She did it out of love. 

But the comments she made built up, that and the pressure of school and social media building up. It all took a toll on you. You found your life mixed with new issues. Anxiety, self-doubt, depression, and you became a new person. 

It was like a shadow version of you, one that tracked how much she ate and thought about how loud she laughed and how much was too much talking. Every single move you made was tracked and overthought.

But then Roy came into the picture. 

At first you did what you usually did, you tried to speak low and not draw too much attention. Tracking how much you laughed and how much you ate. It was fine because your friend group never really realized it, they didn’t know a thing was out of place. But Roy, who had been brought by his sister, was quick to call it out. 

“Fucking stop that.” He muttered when you tried to fix your skirt, using his hand to slap yours away. “You look fucking perfect. Take a breath, yeah?”

“I just…. I’m debating the color, everyone else wore pastels and I hadn’t realized that it would be that type of party.” You admit, body hot with embarrassment as a group of girls pass you at the party. But that was the least of your worries, you had eaten too much cake and had tripped on the stairs in front of your friends. Could everyone see your makeup on your neck? Were they laughing at you-

“Do you overthink everything?” Roy blurts, catching your elbow to pull you back gently as a waiter with a heavy tray passes by. “Because I’ll tell you right now that you’re the prettiest fucking woman at this party.”

“You can’t say that at someone’s birthday party.” You laugh, stepping closer to him without realizing. “That’s one of the biggest rules. It’s like saying someone is prettier than Aphrodite. Next thing you know that person will be cursed to marry your father because the goddess hates you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s…. Greek mythology. I’m not going to marry my dad. It… okay. I’ve ruined this so I am just going to-” You move away quicker than he can follow and you think that it was over. But you had not known just how determined Roy Kent was. 

Soon enough he was taking you out, one date became 4 which led to a relationship. 10 months in and you were the happiest you had ever been. He saw you, in every outfit and every mood and every way, and he loved you just as you were. 

But there was something you didn’t expect, the amount of attention that would come with dating a professional football player. It was a whole new demon in itself. 

- 

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

(For the last time)

- 

Lunches with your mother were the worst, and yet you loved her more than anything. Today she chose an extremely fancy restaurant dressed in a Valentino outfit and her makeup to perfection as she cut her salad up with her fork and knife. 

“Oh this is dreadful.” She sighs, shaking her head. “There is barely any chicken in here. This is insane. Do you see chicken?”

“There is chicken.” Roy shrugs, narrowing his eyes a bit. Lunches with them were always such a weird dynamic considering they were exact opposites. Your mother looked for drama, she thrived off of arguing. Roy chose brutal honesty, he worked best on shutting arguments down before they could even start.  “It’s right there.”

“Oh, baby that is a terrible color on you.” She huffs, sitting the plate back down and turning her glare on you as her hand raises to call the server over. “It washes you out. What have I told you about-”

“She looks fucking stunning today.” Roy scoffs, blinking slowly. 

“It’s fine.” You whisper to him, trying to defuse the situation. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Now I read somewhere that there is a big fundraiser gala coming up, it was in the paper. I assume you both will be attending.” Your mother begins, smiling when the server starts heading over. “You should let me dress you darling. I know how you get anxious about that all and I want to make sure you look your best.”

“She’ll look bloody fantastic in anything-”

“Oh you finally decided to serve your table.” Your mother interrupts him, talking to the server and completely disregarding your boyfriend. 

He takes a moment to lean over to you, catching your eyes. “I’m about to stab my fork into my fucking eye.”

“I know.” You smile, leaning in closer to kiss his cheek which makes him growl a bit at the pda but you see the smile he fights off anyways. “We’ll be gone soon.”

“You look great and the dress you pick will be fantastic. Don’t listen to her.” He gruffs out. 

“Have you seen those posts of you two? They were commenting on your age difference and I just want you to know that I do not think you are too immature for him. Truthfully honey I am proud, I never thought you’d make it with someone so accomplished. I mean it’s not like you had many prospects.” She laughs as the server sends Roy a wide eyed look while taking her plate away leaving the table once more. 

“That’s it.” Roy snaps, slamming his silverware down on the table and pointing his finger at her. “You watch how you speak to her. She’s perfect. And she will be a bombshell at the gala.”

Your mothers face flushes, blinking at him slowly as Roy goes back to his meal like nothing happened while you fight off a smile, your foot rubbing his calf under the table in a silent thank you before you try to pull it back only for his legs to slam shut keeping your foot held there. 

He sends you a sharp look, but the corner of his mouth curves up and you know that was his way of showing his love so you take it, smiling right back at him. 

- 

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

- 

The dress you chose for the gala was perfect, you were excited to wear it and truthfully you were excited about the whole thing. This would be the first event you had ever attended with the Richmond team in the public eye, and you wanted to make a good impression. 

But your mothers words from the years rang through your head constantly as you waited for their practice to end, leaning against the wall in the hallway as you thought about everything. 

“Oh! Hello.” A angelic voice rings out, pulling your attention to Rebecca Welton coming down the hallway, making you stand up quickly. 

“Ms. Welton! Hi, hello, hey…. I’m saying hi in too many ways.” You blush, moving to shake her hand. “It’s great to see you again.”

“I was just about to say the same thing. Are you waiting for the boys?”

“I am, yeah. My car is in the shop so I need a ride.” 

“Oh lovely, will I be seeing you at the gala? I have been planning it for weeks, my ex husband used to plan it. The wanker.”

“I’ll be there. I just hope I dress well enough.” You laugh slightly, but her eyebrow raises and you panic slightly. Did everyone on this team just see right through all your shit? 

“You’ll look perfect. I wish I still had a figure like yours.”

“ANGEL!” Someone calls out before you are lifted into the arms of Danny Rojas, kissing the side of your face as he swings you around. 

“Alright. Set her down, will ya?” Roy snaps, coming around the corner and rubbing his knee as Danny sets you down quickly, kissing your cheek one more time before heading away. You lean forward and rub Roy’s knee right where you know he feels the most pain. 

“Is it hurting a lot?” You mumble, as he pulls your hand away. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, I just don’t want to moan in the middle of this hallway. Let’s go home?” Before you can even answer he is grabbing your bag and moving to take you to the car. 

- 

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city

Pierced through the heart, but never killed

- 

Roy was in a shit mood the day of the gala, slamming cupboard after cupboard. You knew he was irritated about having to dress up and see the reporters that used to write about him all the time, and you knew in moments like this it was best to let him work through it. But sometimes you just couldn’t stay away. 

Shuffling closer, in his shirt, you wrap your arms around his center and shove your face into his back. He huffs out as he keeps swiping  the sponge against the counter, but he doesn’t push you away so you take a chance and kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s going to be okay. What they say about you doesn’t matter.”

He sighs out, letting go of the sponge before turning around in your arms and wrapping his own around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“You were young and they were assholes for that…. So fuck them.”

“Fuck them.” He repeats. 

“You’re going to walk by them in your fine ass suit with your fine ass body-”

“Please don’t objectify me.” He mumbles, but a smile is already on his lips as he leans down to kiss you deeply before pulling back. “And I will have the brightest fucking gem with me tonight.”

“Oh, c’mon.” You blush, trying to pull back but his arms are tight around you. 

“I think we need to fuck.” He huffs kisses at your face again. 

“Don’t be so crass!” You laugh, trying to escape him and shuffling you both to the bedroom right as your phone rings. “It’s my mother.”

“No. Don’t answer.”

“I have to, or she’s gonna be mad.” You answer back, watching his face turn dead serious as he looks at you. His hands come up to rub at your jaw. 

“You listen to me you little rat.” He mumbles, you fighting back a laugh at the nickname. “Don’t listen to a word she says, because you are beautiful.”

“I won’t. I promise.” You promise, kissing his lips deeply and losing yourself to the kiss for a moment before he pulls back and shuffles to continue cleaning the counter. You swipe your thumb across the screen and mumble out a “Hello mother.”

“Oh you’re there! I thought you were about to ignore my call.” She snaps through the phone. 

- 

Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism

Like some kind of congressman? (Tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

(For the last time)

- 

You broke your promise, and you let your mother get the best of you. 

Her words from earlier bounce around your mind as you get ready. You debate whether or not your hair looked healthy as you spray hairspray across it. Did it look greasy? Untamed? Could they see your split ends?

Was your nail polish the wrong color? Was there a patch of hair on your legs that you missed? Did the dress color wash you out? Did you look too heavy? Was it too late to cancel?

“You look…. “ Roy blinks, coming up behind you to help zip the dress. “Fuck.”

“Is that good?” You ask, biting at your lip as he leans to kiss the nape of your neck. 

“Good? You look bloody amazing.” He snaps, kissing your neck one more time before standing straight. “Now let’s go make money.”

“What are we fundraising for? I never looked into it?”

“I have no fucking clue.” 

“Right.” You laugh, turning with your hand in his as he kisses your knuckles softly. “Then let’s go make money for whatever needs money.” 

“Make a fortune.”

- 

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

- 

Your lip was worn down from the amount you had been biting it. 

Walking up to the gala you saw a red carpet with dozens of flashing cameras and begin to panic as you get closer, your hand tightening in Roys as he stands straighter. You would not be able to handle the cameras and see your picture all over the internet. What would people say? They would trash you, oh how bad would it be?

But Roy, ever the perfect man, simply held your hand tight and walked across the red carpet with a confidence that made your skin hot. He muttered to each that called his name, his voice deep and uncaring. “No. No. Fuck you. Fuck off. Fuck no.”

A smile blooming across your face as you let him lead you into the building where everyone is walking about with drinks in their hand. 

“I’m going to go get us drinks. Your usual?” He asks, waiting for your nod before heading in the direction of the bar leaving you standing there to take a look around. 

You took your chance to look around at everyone around you, smiling at anyone you make eye contact with. The anxieties began rising, as every gorgeous female passed you in their perfect dresses. Was your dress cheap looking? Did you look pathetic?

You were caught up in your thoughts as Jamie approached with his date, a model that introduces herself with a hug that makes you sniff caramel, leaving you with a crater in your chest as you look at her perfection. Jamie talks about the gala, looking around at everyone as a flash makes you blink, all three of you turning to the person that just took your picture. 

“The actual fuck?” Jamie scoffs, staring at him. “We were having a conversation, ye?”

“Sorry.” The man nods, moving to walk off and bumping into Nate with another apology. “Didn’t see you.”

“Hi Nate.” You smile, trying to seem calm when he walks up. “You look great.”

“Thank you! Mr. Lasso actually bought me this suit.”

“Who?” You blink, trying to see who he had been talking about. It wasn’t meant to be a snappy or snide comment, you had yet to be introduced to the new coach and the name didn’t ring a bell at first. But the second you saw the man with the mustache owning the crowd not far off you knew who Nate was talking about. 

But when you turn back to Nate you see a glare set on his features, his cheeks a little red as he blatantly looks away from you. “You look great, Jamie. You as well Keeley.”

Then he walks off, bumping into you harshly as he passes which makes the blonde look at you with wide eyes as Jamie excuses himself for another drink. 

“Oh, that was extremely rude of me. I shouldn’t have asked about the coach- that was-”

“What are you talking about?” She blinks, looking extremely confused. “You didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Here you are.” Roy grunts, handing you the chilled glass. “Keeley.”

“Hello Roy.” She smiles before Jamie whistles to pull her over. 

“Did he just call her like she was a dog?” You ask Roy as she walks over, and he shrugs. 

“He’s a wanker. Always has been and always will be.” Roy grunts out, rolling his eyes. “He doesn’t ever pass the ball. And he is a massive tool. You should hear some of the things he says to-” He begins to explain as you try to smooth out your dress before his hand shoots out to stop you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Your answer was too quick, his eyes narrow and he catches it. 

“What happened?”

“I just…. I think I upset Nate because I asked to Lasso was and I didn’t mean to and everyone here looks amazing. But I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 

“Did that little fuck say something?”

“No. It’s fine Roy. Everything is fine.” You smile, leaning forward to kiss his lips which he allows before moving back and holding his hand knowing he doesn’t like pda.  “Let’s go find our seats?”

- 

I have this dream my daughter in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out

"She's laughing up at us from hell"

- 

“Hello Roy, you handsome devil you.” A southern voice rings out, walking up to where you and Roy were seated together. “And what pairs so well with a handsome devil? An angel.”

“The devil is technically… well historically the devil is an angel.” You blush, immediately feeling stupid as the fun fact slips from your lips. “Well, I mean- I’m sorry that was stupid.”

“Stupid? Absolutely not. I feel ashamed that I didn’t know it.” He laughs, leaning to shake your hand. “My name is Ted, all my friends call me Ted which means you must.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you. Roy was telling me about all the new techniques at your practices.” You smile, making your boyfriend shake his head. 

“I said nothing good.” Roy huffs.  

“He said everything good.” You smile which makes Ted smile back. 

“You both look fantastic. Have a drink on me, since it’s an open bar.” Ted jokes, moving to walk away as Roy places his hand on your lower back. 

“Why the fuck would you tell him that I said good things?” He huffs and your stomach drops. 

“I’m sorry. It was just teasing and you do always say great things about him so-”

“Take it easy. You are fine.” He shakes his head. “Are you okay?”

You hadn’t noticed but your fists had clenched and your nails were digging into your skin, his own fingers were quick to make you release the hold and rub his thumb over the crescent marks left on your skin before bringing your hand up to kiss your palm. 

“I thought you hated pda.” You whisper, leaning so your foreheads were pressed together as he pretended to roll his eyes. 

“Fuck it. I have a gorgeous date and I deserve to kiss her in public.” 

“Are you sure? It’s a big move for you.”

“Have you seen yourself? Prettier than the goddess aphrodite.” He smiles and your eyes widen. 

“How. Dare. You! What have you done? I’m going to have to marry my dad now. Roy, how could you have done this to me?” You laugh, shaking your head. “I also cannot believe you remember that from almost a year ago.”

“Of course I remember.” He blinks. “That was the first conversation I had with the love of my life. Who would forget that?”

“Oh knock it off.” You mumble, shaking your head. 

“Knock it off? Knock what off?” He snaps. “Do you realize how fucking lucky I was that day? The day you looked at me? My life was made. The second best day of my life.”

“Second?”

“Second. My niece’s birth is the first.” 

“I’m fucking honored.” You laugh, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Did you just cuss?”

“I did. I’m sorry. My mother would kill me.” You blush. 

“Can I be honest with you for a second?”

“When are you not?”

“Fuck your mother.” He blurts, which makes your eyes widen. “I hate her. I think she is miserable and you are far fucking prettier than aphrodite and you don’t have to worry about the goddess making you marry your dad because I will be marrying you. No goddess or god could keep me from you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re stuck with me. And I need you to stop being to fucking mean to yourself. You hear me?” He asks seriously. “Because that’s the love of my life you are talking about.” 

“I can try.” 

“Good. Now lets get another round and wait this fucking gala out. Then lets go get actual food because I know you skipped lunch.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You smile before a flash blinds you once more, making you both whirl to the man with the camera. 

“You fucker-” Roy begins to stand as he dashes off. 

- 

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

It's me, hi, everybody agrees, everybody agrees

- 

You both end up at a late night potato stand, sitting on one of their benches as you both laugh at the memory of the auction that had taken place. 

“A fucking grandma bid on me. You know how embarrassing that was?”

“Hey! I bid on you too!” You laugh, body shaking from laughing so hard. “And Keeley!”

“Keeley was pissing that little wanker off.” He huffs, rubbing your thigh gently as you keep his blazer wrapped around you. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

“Thank you for bringing me. I am sorry I upset Nate-”

“Stop saying sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He mumbles, leaning to dig his spoon into your baked potato and take a big mouthful of it. “Fuck. That is good.”

“You say that about anything I get! You always do this!” You laugh, pretending to pull the potato away. 

“You always choose better!”

- 

It's me, hi (hi), I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At tea (tea) time (time), everybody agrees (everybody agrees)

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

- 

“Fuck!” You wake up to the sound of Roy yelling from the kitchen, rushing to wrap yourself in the sheet left on the bed from last night as your feet pad across the floor to find where he is at. 

You find him sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, glaring at his laptop, until he sees you coming out of the bedroom in just a sheet. 

“Fuck.” Unlike his last curse this one is said with a lusty tone, setting the coffee down as you come closer to the couch and move to sit by him. 

“What’s got you so mad, handsome?”

“They posted a picture of me and they said I’m retired. What fucks.”

“Is it a bad idea? To be retired?” You ask, moving to straddle him before he can pull an attitude. “You would have more time with me. More time to hang out and cuddle and sleep and…. You can finish the rest.” 

“.....Fuck.”

[wolfiesmoon]

Deal or no deal

Azul x gn!reader

finally writing for my baby boy azul, i can't believe it took this long since i am an azul girlie myself

a very funny silly definitely innocent business man methinks

"First, tell me what you desire. We can take it from there." Azul smiled slyly, interlocking his hands as he leaned on his elbows.

You were currently located in his private office, about to sign a contract with him. You had to think long and hard about coming to him, but you figured that if anyone can fulfill your wish, it would be Azul. You feel kind of guilty asking him for this in the first place.

You see, you've been in love with Azul for a good amount of time now, but are too afraid to make a move. You beat yourself up for being such a coward every day, and even moreso right now because you're about to ask him if he can make "someone you've had your eye on" fall in love with you. You're not sure what exactly he does to make it happen, but you hope it's doable without much instructions on your end. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Though you still feel like a bit of a villain for doing this at all.

Your guilt and nerves are probably showing in your body language, too. Which you suppose only makes Azul more interested in learning what you desire. You can practically feel the grins on the Leech twin's faces, too. It's like they genuinely like seeing you nervous and scared.

Why are they even here, anyways?

"I want... someone to fall in love with me. Someone who I've had my eye on for a while now." you fidget with your fingers, unable to look Azul in the eye when you say this.

"That's..." he tried his best to hold back from laughing but a snort escaped from his lips anyways. "Forgive the reaction, your wish was just... unexpected."

You suppose he thought your wish would be more sinister because of your body language. Or way more embarrasing. But still...

"Ehhhh, I didn't know Shrimpy was in love..." Floyd's eyes were slightly widened but his creepy grin was still as wide as ever. "It is quite surprising, indeed." Jade added on. By the suspicously calm way they're acting, you have no idea if the twins already know about your little crush and are just acting along or if they're actually surprised.

"Yeah, uhhh, I guess that's it?..." you had no idea what else to tell him. You just hope that this can be over as soon as possible since things are getting really awkward.

"I can certainly do something for you. Tell me, what is their name? They attend this school, I assume." Azul seemed delighted. Probably because that means he'll get free labour from you as a collateral. You don't have any magic to offer him, after all.

"T... their name? Is that required?" You froze up. There's no way you can say that. That would be the worst way for your feelings to get outed, ever. You suppose it makes sense, though. He can't do anything if he doesn't know who you're in love with.

"But of course it is. Don't worry, judgement has no place in business affairs." He smiled reassuringly at you. You felt your face heat up. No, no, nope. You can't do this. Not like this.

"You know what.... Never mind. I can't do it." You abruptly stood up from the cushy office chair, apologising curtly before practically bolting out of his office.

"Oh my god, that was so bad... oh my god..." you mumbled to yourself when you were out of Octavinelle. You just royally embarrased yourself in front of your crush.

Was it obvious?

.

"What was that about?" Floyd pouted at the direction of the door, which you left slightly ajar in your panic to escape the situation as soon as possible.

"Hmmm... how odd." Jade looked deep in thought about something.

"This is why I tell you to stop coming to my office when I'm trying to make a deal. You scared the poor thing off." Azul shook his head dissaprovingly.

"That wasn't our fault. Shrimpy was acting super weird the whole time anyways." Floyd defended himself and his brother.

"I suppose you're right..." Azul took a deep breath, seemingly... relieved? Not about the fact you ran away, but still relieved for some reason.

Jade made a realisation. "Oh. I see. I see."

He smiled knowingly at Azul, who raised a brow. "What is it? Is there something on my face?"

"No, it's nothing. Don't worry."

Azul gets the feeling that Jade knows something, but doesn't want to tell him.

"If you say so."

[stardustlixie]

cry me a river [h.hj x reader]

trope: enemies to lovers, uni au

word count: 13.6k

warnings: not much, arguing and bickering obvi, like one badly written breakdown, mentions of abuse but no serious descriptions, a little ateez slander i'm sorry someone had to be villain, that's it i think, lmk if i missed something

Some say a child’s mind is like a blank book, and what's written in it has lasting impact, but you'd say it's more like wet clay, writing on paper can be erased, or cut down, or covered, but what about fingerprints on clay, what about the shapes it was twisted into? those cannot be undone, not without breaking.

And you're a living example.

You were the 12 year old who was told love was something you'd have to earn. You were once the 12 year old crying when your father burst out telling you ‘second is just the first loser', you were the 12 year old shaking, lest the test paper with an 82 on it warrant physical pain. 

You were the 13 year old who spent their birthday evaluating what made up a human's worth. Kindness, faith, and community were things that your mother would have said, but certificates, achievements and excellence would be your dad's answer. And for the next 8 years, it'd be yours too.

Young minds are beautiful places, but they trust to a fault, taking whatever is presented to them as absolute truth, often hurting themselves to a point where they find themselves unable to trust when older. And yet, painfully unable to shake the beliefs embedded in their psyche.

Your father isn't in your immediate vicinity to remind you that you're not lovable if you don't have something to offer and he'd be surprised if someone ever loved you for who you are. But his voice still lives in the back of your head, it's enough reminder of your uselessness without Hyunjin exiting.

Hwang Hyunjin, how you hate his guts and how your father would have loved him. All things good: funny, smart, popular, skilled, but most of all, the best at everything. 

Always first, always a step ahead of you, prettier than you, smarter than you, more friendly than you.

More than you.

Being the best comes easy to him, hell, everything comes easy to him. Especially making you feel small. He sucks the oxygen out of any place you are in.

It seems like his only purpose in the universe is causing you problems, putting you down, destroying your self esteem, getting into the most sensitive corners of your mind and evoking intense emotions that you didn't even know you were capable of feeling.

He brings out the worst of you, makes your insecurities pop out like bright red on a white canvas. 

Maybe it's you who's fragile. But not being affected is difficult when most of his attacks seem to mirror your father's statements.

You don't like Hwang Hyunjin. You know it, Felix knows it, Minho knows it, Hyunjin knows it, the entire campus knows it. 

You don't remember when exactly Hyunjin got to this point, but it didn't start like this. 

It seems like forever but it's been just about a year since you met him at that party. It's no question that he's good looking, but he had an allure to him that day. Though he was reserved at first, you both soon began to get along and your friendship began to turn into a playful rivalry.

The light hearted competition in everything was welcome at first, but there came a point where it wasn't light hearted anymore. And maybe one of you unknowingly crossed a line or two, but you were hurling sharp insults at the other in only a couple of months of meeting.

You were enemies before you were really friends.

But you blame him for that. You weren't at fault when you recieved your first semester grades and first thing he said was “Seems like second is what you'll always be.” 

You weren't over reacting that day when he suggested getting drunk at a party was your only chance of getting laid because “Your personality will distract any sober person from your looks, no one would stay with you long enough to reach that level of trust.” 

You weren't overreacting when you'd grabbed him by the collar and told him “Talk to me about trust when someone shows interest in something other than your reputation or face. Talk to me about human connection when you know what it fucking feels like.”  

That was probably the harshest thing you'd said to him, and you knew that, because this was his fragile point. He brought it upon himself though. He wasn't seen around for a week after that. But then he was back, the same, with remarks on everything about you, not always prime hurtful, but always unwelcome. There was nothing you did that deterred him from being so disruptive. So you learnt to let it be. 

But your friends didn't get the memo. They seem to get along with him really well. To this day they've been trying to get you two to ‘settle your differences’. You reckon they'll get tired one day.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

This was a bad idea. They should have given up after two of their previous attempts.

Closed rehearsal room and your friends who thought of inviting the bane of your existence to join for a dance practice session.

“Darling you're not even trying,” he condescends, “though I don't think it'd make much of a difference if you did.” There goes that smirk.

Felix pauses his movement momentarily to look at the situation, but Minho, ever the strict teacher, orders the three of you back into position. It's been an hour of trying to come up with a choreography for a song of his choosing and you'd be worried about his disappointment in the lack of progress if you didn't have a 5 '10 problem to deal with.

Whose idea was it to attempt getting you and Hyunjin to be friends? 

You've been trying your best to focus on the instructions Minho gives but Hwang Hyunjin can be really, really annoying when he needs to be. And you're reaching the brink of your already limited patience. 

“That's it, Min. I don't know which of you two decided this was a good idea but I really hope this guy isn't in this room the next time I am. I'm not doing this anymore.” You declare and walk to get your bag when, ofcourse, Hyunjin comments.

“Oh come on,” he fakes a pout, “you're disappointing your best friends. And me.” He says, like he matters. 

“Well then,” you glare him down, done dealing with him for the rest of your life, “cry me a river and drown in it.” 

He winces and puts a hand over his heart like he's hurt, before laughing, “As you wish darling.” You're very close to snapping but you just take a few steps towards him till his back hits the wall. “Shut up, will you?” 

“Oo, how scary.” His hand reaches out but you smack it away before it does anything, your attention would be on his red ears if it wasn't on that stupid smirk.

And as you walk out you swear to yourself to wipe it off his face someday. 

When Minho and Lix brought him along and introduced him to you, he was nice, polite, quiet almost. But now it seems like he is on a personal vendetta to get on your nerves. 

His attacks go from just annoying to ignorant to personally hurtful when no one's looking. And you hate him for it. 

Felix keeps attempting to get you and his bestfriend to not be at each other's throats all the time. You can't say it's working but you've gotten more used to having a constant source of irritation around.

Is there more layers to your hatred of him than just this? Yes. Would you ever admit that? Probably not.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

The next you see of him is in your dorm, on your dinner table. Actually your trio’s table but he doesn't belong here either way. 

He lifts a hand and waves, mouthing a ‘hey there’, to which you flip him off. You reach the table and just stand beside your friends till they feel obligated to provide an explanation. Felix speaks up first, keeping his mug aside,“Hi yn!” but completely ignores your apprehension, prompts you to sit down instead, which you do with a huff. 

You don't spare him another glance but you can feel his eyes focused on you.

“Answer a question l/n.” He seems to be studying your stance for some reason. “What even is the point of you?”

You take a deep breath. You don't wanna smite him in your own kitchen. “You ask me that like your own life has any meaning.”

“So you don't have an answer?”

“Do you get off of the annoyance you cause other people?”

“Probably. You're my favorite though.” He winks and you have to use the entirety of your self control to not break his jaw.

“You done?” Minho says to Hyunjin, though it feels as if he's addressing you both.

“There’s a group dance competition in late November,” he sees both you and Hyunjin open your mouths but he cuts it off early, “it outright says groups of four or more.” 

“Then I'm out.” 

“So am I.”

“You both calm your asses right now,” Minho gives a look that promptly gets you both settled in your seats, though he ignores Lix’s giggle, “the prize money for the winners is huge.” 

“And I know you don't need the money like us,” he looks at Hyunjin, “but Hongjoong is bringing his team. I'm sure you'd like to participate.” 

Hyunjin nods his participation but Minho isn't done. “If I see whatever problem you both have with each other becoming a problem to practice..” He concludes himself with silence and you swear Hyunjin gulps as you hold eye contact with Minho, as if challenging him to finish. 

You've known him since his shy highschooler days, you're not about to be intimidated by this doe eyed example of a man.

“I think they'll manage!” Felix cheers Minho so he disrupts whatever staring contests you both are in. Conveniently dragging him out and inconveniently leaving you and Hyunjin together. This is the first time you're alone with him in a couple of months.

You get up as if he isn't sat across from you to make yourself some tea. It's almost done when he speaks. 

“So…. truce?” 

“I’m not acting friendly with you just because that rodent wants me to” you clear and set down a mug of tea on the table with some force, “don't make yourself comfortable.” 

He looks nonplussed at the cup in front of him and looks back at you.

“You were staring at Lix’s tea like a dying man. Drink it. Or don't. Whatever.” 

“Aww you do care about your arch-enemy after all!” He makes a face that makes you wanna hurt him. 

You walk out.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

“But wouldn’t that seem like piracy in dance? A dancepiracy?” Felix exclaims, in his usual manner of what-even-is-his-vocabulary when Minho has all of you gathered in a practice room on campus. 

“Lix, I'm sorry, what?” 

Hyunjin enters, a bit late as he always is, “Hi-” 

“Don't talk to me.” You cut him off and receive an eye roll before walking off to Minho and he beckons the two of them to do the same.

“Alright, let's decide a general vibe we're going for and then we'll pick a song based on that.” 

“How about a contemporary mix?” Hyunjin says, and before Minho can say something, you do.

“You're so clueless it's almost cute. You're gonna fight Ateez, with contemporary?” You scoff like it's the most ridiculous thing you've heard and he gives you an offended kindergartener look.

“Alright break it up, we'll club every idea together and then eliminate.” Minho says, already getting tired of the setting. How will he do this for a few more weeks?

Almost half an hour passes before the animated discussion about concepts, styles and which one of those could be used by potential opponents ends and you all try to decide on a song.

“But if we do Charisma we're gonna run out of energy pretty quickly and the power of the song is gonna overrule the moves.” You say and for the first time, Hyunjin agrees, so Minho has to drop it. 

“We should try k-music, how about Overdrive? The one by I.M.?” Hyunjin says and you almost pat him on the back. 

“That, Hwang, is probably the only good idea you've ever had in your life. Let's do it.” If hyunjin replies, it is tuned out by the sounds of a happy Felix. 

☆

“Hyunjin if your hand touches my face one more time I'm gonna rip it off!” Minho says, much to effect, Hyunjin shudders and his hand never reaches a foot’s radius of Minho again. He looks hilarious like that, cute even. Wait. No.

“Alright, that's probably all we can do today, I want all of you here tomorrow at 5pm. Don't be late, Hyunjin.”

“Hey, why are you pointing me out?” Hyunjin whines and you reply for Minho.

“Because you're the only dumbass who ever actually is late.” 

“You say that like your middle name is punctual.” He retorts and he looks unreasonably attractive while doing so. You hate him for that.

“And? I've hardly been late to anything dickwad.” 

“Oh well, I might be 15 minutes late to practice but I'm still better than you aren't I?” 

“Oh fuck off,” you scoff. “You're about as better than me as I am better than Kirsten Dodgen.” 

“Come on, instead of making excuses, how bout you dance better ln?” He scoffs.

“How bout you shove your attitude up your ass, Hwang? Bragging doesn't make you superior.” He bends down to your face in the most condescending way ever. “Having something to brag about is what makes me superior, darling.” You're done with him.

“You'd be so much more likable if you weren't an utter bitch.” You see his gaze drop and you find yourself scoffing. If he chooses to make a conversation escalate he should deal with what's to come.

Before he can say something in return though, Minho interrupts him and drags him out. You walk out before Felix gets the chance to lecture you. 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

You're in your common room snacking as Minho and Lix argue over their makeup styles. 

"Lemme do your makeup please?" Felix asks for the third time, giving Minho his best puppy eyes, and he is close to cracking, but he has a little bit of dignity left, so he turns to you for help. "Only if yn says so."

"I think lixie's style would look quite pretty on you Min." You munch on a chip, Felix jumping up with a 'yes!' while Minho just looks at you, betrayed. You give him a small smile as an apology.

You are lost in thoughts of how much you adore these two, heart warming at their silly dynamic when you hear a knock on the door. 

“I'll check it.” 

Out of all the people who could have possibly been at your door for any possible reason, it has to be Hwang Hyunjin. 

“Why are you here?” He doesn't give you a direct answer, which isn’t like him, but just looks at his shoes. 

“Can I talk to Lix-”

“He's not here.” You know he is, Hyunjin knows too, but you're not very keen on letting him in. But he doesn't try to force it, he looks almost desperate when he replies. 

“Please just let me talk to him for a moment?” Hyunjin isn't usually polite to you, so you don't actively block him and step aside to let him enter.

Felix is doing Minho’s eyeshadow when he sees him, mutters out a greeting, and only senses something is off when he pays attention to Hyunjin’s face.

“What's up, hyun?” 

“I- uh this is kinda weird but, there's a spare bed in your room right? Since your dorm is for four people.” 

“Jinnie hyung what happened?” 

“Well they're doing some emergency repair work in my room starting today evening and me and Jisung need a place to live for like a few days. Hotels are expensive.” Hyunjin looks the most embarrassed you've ever seen him, you don't know why but you definitely don't want him to stay.

“Jisung already found a place and uh, it's just for a few days-”

“It's ok hyung you can stay in mine.” Felix smiles at him and tells him to go get all the stuff he'll need for those few days. 

As soon as he's out the door you start, “Felix, what the fuck? Did you just invite him to stay over?” He sighs and gives you a look. 

“Look he's my best friend, he's not that bad, besides he's gonna be in my room and I'll keep him in check I promise. It'll be fine.” 

You didn't think it'd be fine. With Hyunjin around it'd never be fine. But you can't think of any way out other than shutting yourself in your room. That works fine for a few hours, Hyunjin brings over his stuff and you can make out sounds of the three boys playing games and goofing around. But you are human. You're hungry. 

You try your best to tiptoe to the kitchen, and you get in safely, but on your way back, you slam into Hyunjin. How fun.

“Come on, yn, at least walk properly.” He brushes himself off like he just touched dirt, and something about that gesture gets to you. In a moment he's shoved against the wall and his breath is knocked out of his lungs. You have him by the collar. 

“What is your problem with me, huh?”, you interrogate, his ears are red but his face is unyielding, “why do you insist on being such an asshole to me? What have I ever done to you?” He gulps but his gaze on you doesn't falter. In another world you'd see what your hand around his neck would feel like.

“You're the one who likes acting superior, someone has to remind you you're not.” He says and some thread of resolve deep within you snaps. 

“Look Hyunjin, I don't know what deep insecurity of yours makes you hostile towards me. But I'm tired of this,” you glare, “I'm tired of you.” 

“You think you have the right to say that huh?”, he scoffs at you, “you were so nice at first why did you decide to hate me all of a sudden?” It's ridiculous how he almost looks hurt. It draws a dry laugh out of you. 

“I'm sorry but I should be the one saying that. Because you were the one who decided to be offended in secret and suddenly start sounding like my-” you almost say it, the reason his words affect you so gravely.

“Like your what?”

“Nevermind.” You let go of his collar and step back, he's not worthy of hearing about your reasons. He stays in place, staring at the ground, when you're about to walk out he speaks.

“It's because I hate you.” He says, you turn to him as he continues. “Rephrase, I hate how nothing budges you. You make me think of everything in my life that's out of my control. You're this seemingly perfect human and nothing gets to you. I wanted to see how far you could be pushed before you break. But you didn't, you never do. And honestly, you make me insecure.” His gaze is fixed on the ground but the irony of the situation gets to you. 

A laugh is drawn out of you at the prospect. “That's low, even by your standard, Hyunjin.” 

“I wanted some confirmation that you're human, that you have insecurities and fears and triggers, but you never show them.” 

“Haven't you pulled enough of my triggers already? Why’re you so hellbent on creating problems for me?”

“Because I don't wanna be less than you,” he says, and the irony makes you wanna strangle him. He mutters a curse. “I have a question. Why did you say that last year?” He asks, much to your confusion.

“Say what?” You ask, he inhales deeply and bites his lip, you're momentarily distracted despite the situation.

“That party at Seungmin’s after summer? I heard what you said.” He looks almost vulnerable but you still don't know what he's talking about so he continues.

“You were talking to someone that day, I heard my name so I was curious, you said I remind you of all the bad things in your life. That you hated me. And you'd been acting so harsh with me that week.”

“What?”, it takes you a moment to register what he's talking about, “oh. That.” 

“Forget it, it wasn't about you.” You say and he smiles at the ground, “So you do hate me.” 

“No, it's not that-”

“Then what is it?” 

“I-, it's my dad. I don't wanna talk about it in detail but you're everything he's ever wanted of me, you remind me of him and you talk the same way. That summer was when I told him I'm not taking his shit anymore. I was telling Minho about it.” Hyunjin looks stunned at the confession. 

“I don't hate you, you know? You just seem like someone too good to be a friend of mine.” He says and you laugh.

“You're so dumb Hwang Hyunjin. I don't forgive you but for the sake of our friends,” you look up at him and he's never looked so expectant, “truce?” His expression changes and you can sense the teasing coming your way.

“Did you just say that? You do like me that much huh?” You slap his arm. 

“Shut up before I change my mind.”  

“Oh, by the way, Lix is playing Moana in a few minutes, he said it's one of your faves, go sit with them, he'll like it. I'll fetch snacks like he told me to.”

You end up watching the movie with them, your snacks are attacked, you discover that Hyunjin does have a sense of humor.

The next day is smoother, you didn't expect Hyunjin to stop being a loudmouth, and he doesn't, but it's more bearable than before, it's not quite friendly yet, you both need time to work to that level after the spontaneous truce, but it's bearable.  

A group study in the library that all four of you agreed to just turned into a heated debate about literature and he may beat you in a dance competition but you'd be damned if he ever beats you in a debate. 

“I may have mistaken the quote for a Khalil Gibran one because it was similar but you quoted Oscar Wilde in a hetero scenario. Come on. You didn't even know what place Odesseus ruled or why Troy happened.” You're in disbelief.

“Ok fine. You got me. I know nothing about literature, especially Greek. Happy?” He admits defeat and you've never felt better. 

“Oh, very happy.” You're sure the grin on your face is annoying the hell out of him. 

You all get home groaning about not wanting to work to make dinner. One thing none of you expected though, is that all of you will miss the snowstorm alert and the notice of classes being canceled. 

“GUYS WE'RE FUCKED!” Felix shouts from the couch where he and Hyunjin are playing a game as you and Minho cook, everyone gathers around the boy as he reads out the alert emailed to all students. Minho groans, you sigh and Felix sits dejected. 

“Why are you all so down? It's just a snowstorm.” Hyunjin says and Felix fills him in about the deteriorated condition of the heater and the potential threat of a power cut. Also the inevitable delay that will happen to his dorm’s repair work.

The dinner is silent not just because of the news but because Felix and Minho know tomorrow is your birthday. 

Felix and Hyunjin are just done doing the dishes when the younger perks up, “I know what to do! WE'LL MAKE A  WARM PILLOW FORT IN ONE OF THE ROOMS!” 

“Lix I don't think that's a good idea.” You're not very excited to do this with Hyunjin around but Minho makes it worse.

“See that makes sense, if all of us sleep in one room it'd be warmer.” You know there's no going back from that so you assist in moving mattresses and blankets to make the nest looking thing ‘for the slumber party’ as Felix says.

Someone's (yours) laptop is propped up on a piece of furniture and a Disney movie, this time of Hyunjin's choosing, is played.

Looking at it positively, there's snacks, you're warm, everyone is having fun while there's a snowstorm outside, you have no classes for two days. It's not that bad. 

No one knows who falls asleep first, but there's no power when you wake up way too early, you wish yourself happy birthday and get up for tea when you're ambushed. Minho seats you back down as he and Felix softly sing the Happy Birthday song in the dark, Hyunjin shifts and wakes up, confused very much at the strange spectacle. 

Phone flashlights are turned on when a Felix-made box of brownies is passed to you, Minho lights a mini candle that you blow out and make a wish. 

“You'll have to wait a little longer for your gifts, though.” Minho says as he gives you a hug. 

The day starts early and the power comes back on in a few hours as the storm calms down. You're told to dress up for the gift giving and Hyunjin is made cameraman. 

Felix gives you a novel you've been wanting for a while along with a beautiful necklace and Minho gets you perfume and calligraphy pens. Hyunjin apologizes for not knowing it's your birthday but you tell him you don't mind.

You're not allowed to help when Minho dictates Felix and Hyunjin as they make some of your favorite food. The spectacle is amusing as can be, Hyunjin is absolutely clueless about cooking and looks lost while Felix runs about trying to manage his tasks as Minho is busy at the stove. The meal is one of the best you've had in a while. 

This is how you like your birthdays, homely, cozy and a little bit silly. 

You didn't expect even a birthday wish from Hyunjin so it's certainly a surprise when he finds you later in the evening and hands you a small painting of a chrysanthemum. 

“I don't know what to give you so I made a painting of your birth flower, but I know you like blue so I made it blue.” 

“I don't- I didn't know you paint so well Hyunjin, this- it's lovely, you didn't have to. Thank you so much.” He just gives you a small smile, which you return.

The flower is beautiful and you notice it's the exact shade of blue as your outfit. You'll keep the painting safe. 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

There's a couple of weeks left for the competition but your team is making great progress, you're all skilled, Minho is a great mentor and you find that Hyunjin's choreography style is quite similar to yours.

Speaking of Hyunjin, you've been getting along with him better. His jokes aren't as much attacks as they are annoying, he's dramatic and he's stupid but he's also quite thoughtful. Maybe he isn't all that bad.

Hyunjin makes a very unfunny joke and you lightly punch him in the ribs, looking up to find Minho giving you a suspicious look. “What?” He doesn't reply.

When you're all packing up to leave practice when Hyunjin speaks.

“I think we're friends now.” His tone is of false disbelief, he almost looks cute with that exasperated expression.

“God don't say that. I still wanna kill you every time I see you.” You say, but you're laughing. 

You wanna kill him, but you also kind of wanna kiss him. 

Wait. No. 

He's invited over to the dorm today despite his dorm having been fixed long ago. He's bringing Jisung with him, Felix and Jisung are already friends and Minho has taken a unique liking to the boy. 

The offer is of studying together and then later hanging with snacks to find an excuse to ditch a party none of you wanna go to. 

“I call dibs on the big chair!” Jisung yells and Felix claims the next best spot in his own room. Hyunjin settles on the floor because you claim Lix's bed before him and Minho claims another place. 

You throw a folded blanket at him, “Cushion your ass Hwang,” you smirk, “if you have any that is.” Jisung snorts in the corner. “Don't insult the man’s cake like that, yn!” 

A few hours pass with Jisung and Felix chatting between their work and Minho giving them endearing looks, you and Hyunjin just work but you can't help but notice how his eyes flicker to you every other minute. 

You find yourself staring at his lips as his tongue reaches out to wet them, you involuntary mimic his action. He's beautiful, undeniably, but he looks so soft in his pastel blue sweater that you almost forget you used to hate him. You wonder what his hugs feel like.

Wait. No. No, you don't. 

You run to your room to fetch your strawberry lipbalm. 

“Hyunjin put your laptop down for a sec,” he throws you a questioning glance but complies, the other three are too busy to notice what you're doing, the pad of your ring finger swipes the tinted product across his slightly chapped lips, “There.” 

You don't realize what you've until he gulps, “Shit, I'm sorry, I should've asked-”

“Thanks.” He looks a little red and you figure it's the embarrassment of it all. 

☆

You run across Hyunjin again, as he's returning from the kitchen and you're heading there, you walk towards him, not knowing what you're gonna say when the glossy red tint on his lips is so, so enticing. He doesn't protest when your hand is on his face, examining it. 

“The shade suits you.” His breath is uneven and he gulps, you notice his eyes darting down to the same shade on your lips. You don't know why you do it, or how you'll explain it. 

But you kiss him, his lips are every bit as soft as you imagined them to be everytime he bit them. You think you've fucked everything up until he kisses back uncertainly.

You part and your eyes drop down, so does the hand that was previously on his face.  

“I-”, you curse your words for failing you at that moment and the thousand jumbled thoughts in your head that make it difficult to think.

“This never happened.” You say, finally, as you step back. 

“Consider it forgotten.” He confirms. 

Him and Jisung leave after almost an hour, you won't be able to sleep today.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆ 

You said ‘this never happened’, you don't have any explanation of why it proceeded to happen many times afterwards. You would talk about it if only you understood what you're feeling, but you don't. And it's not messing anything up and none of you is ready to give the other an explanation.

There's two days left in the competition, and the preparation is finally done. All of you are satisfied with the final choreography and the decided outfits. Maybe you're a tad bit too interested in the pictures Hyunjin shows of him in his outfit.

Minho insisted for a last run with counts before the hour ended. You look at Hyunjin’s form as he dances, he has complete control over what beats he does and doesn't hit, he looks the best here, you think, in his element. Besides there's certain thoughts you have about his tank top and sweaty body, thoughts that you don't wanna acknowledge. The song ends and Hyunjin stops moving, much to your disappointment.

You look straight at him as you play 'Industry baby' and raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. “You first.” He accepts. The things you do to get Hwang Hyunjin dancing again. 

Minho and Felix both cheer on as the dance battle continues. You beat Yunho on this song and both of them know it. You see Hyunjin's eyes widen when you hit a beat in the chorus with your entire body. He whistles and you take that as an ego boost. The battle was in your favor. 

“Admit I'm better than you,” you say to him, he laughs in response, but not in the mocking way you're familiar with.

“It'd be a cold day in whatever hell you came from before I do that.” He raises a brow at you though he's smiling.

“Gotta tell my dad to turn the AC down.” You deadpan and the three boys snort. 

“Are your trauma jokes always necessary?” 

“No but they're funny so..” 

☆

You're at Hyunjin and Han’s dorm after practice and for a godforsaken reason, Minho and Felix are both somewhere else while you sit awkwardly in Hyunjin's desk chair with your drink. He's still in the shower, you were all previously in this room but the three decided to leave you alone with Hyunjin. They're doing that a lot these days. Hyunjin's blow dryer is loud. 

He steps out and you almost choke on your boba. He's shirtless. You look in the opposite direction as fast as you can.

“Don't worry, darling, you can look. I know I'm irresistible.” 

“Shut up before I throw my boba at you.” but you look anyway, he somehow looks better than what you'd imagined was under his tank top. 

This time you let your eyes trail over him, from collarbones to the slightly visible v-line above his sweatpants, just to see who looks away first. He feels your vision on him like it's cold winter air, but doesn't look away. 

You take that as a challenge, you put your drink away and walk to him. He doesn't look away. Your hand finds his waist, he inhales sharply and you pull him to you. Your other hand finds his nape when there's barely any distance left between you. He still doesn't give up. 

“It’s almost like you want me to do something,” you let your eyes run shamelessly across his skin, “tell me to stop.” He doesn't, so you kiss him. And he kisses back, this time with certainty. You let the feeling soak into you for a moment. It's him who takes it further, and you retaliate, you bite his lower lip right when you give his hair a little tug and he gasps into your mouth, his hands roam your body and you let them.  

You push him back until his knees hit his bed and he lets himself fall, his hands find your waist again as soon as you're straddling him, this time your hand is on his neck instead of his hair, you let him kiss you once more before your lips are attached to his jawline, then down to his collarbone, your teeth nip at his skin and your hand presses at the sides of his neck experimentally, his arms tighten around you and he moans. You peel yourself away from him to look at his face, the redness from his face has bled down his neck to half his chest. Cute.

“You're.. extremely red.” You say.

“Shut up.” 

“Like.. cherry red.” You tease.

“Go to hell.” You laugh but gasp when he pulls you down to lay over him and engulfs you in a sort of bear hug. It feels surprisingly nice. 

“I can't go back home right now but your company is a better substitute for hell don't you think?” He pushes you off of him at that. 

“Hey I was kidding-” 

There's a knock on the door and Hyunjin runs for his shirt and you run to fix your hair and grab your drink.

“What’re you guys doing in there with the door closed?” It's Han. You'd strangle him if he wasn't Minho's favorite.  

“Mind your own Jisung, I just got out of the shower!” Hyunjin yells, “And y'all were the ones who left me alone here what the fuck Han?” You add. 

There's things one only notices when they're very, very close to someone. Hyunjin has a faint mole under his left eye.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

It's competition day and you have a problem. In the heat of the moment, you'd forgotten how low cut his stage outfit was. Now you're trying not to look as Jisung and Felix interrogate Hyunjin about where he got the hickeys from. He doesn't give anything away, thankfully, you're not ready to explain something you're not even sure about, but Minho has been awfully quiet and you think he's suspecting something. 

All thoughts leave your head as you hear the host of the evening start introducing the event, the order of performances is announced and Ateez is called on first, everyone expects them to win. There's a few more teams before you and your team is close to the last, you count a few possible opponents who are good competition, like the Soobin and Yeji’s teams, you know most of the participants from Uni. 

Watching others perform, you can feel the familiar pre performance adrenaline taking over. You love it. This rush is part of the reason you do dance competitively. 

Hyunjin comes up to you and gives your hand a little squeeze, “let's kill this yeah?” “Oh we absolutely will.” 

And you do. The cheers get louder as the performance progresses and choosing a song this heavy on beats may have cost all of you your lungs during practice, but you move like you know each other's bodies and Ateez doesn't look so smug anymore. The hyped crowd is all so worth it. 

As Felix predicted, the bridge is the part which gets the loudest cheers.

There's only two performances after yours and the results come in soon after. The host thanks the sponsors and announces the positions bottom to top. Yeji’s teams is runner up.

Soobin’s team is third. The boys hug each other before they run to collect their prize, their friends cheer for them. But your heart starts beating violently soon afterwards, you're standing behind MinLix, so Hyunjin takes your hand, he's jittery so you let him.

Ateez, Hongjoong’s team, is second. You heave a sigh of relief and Hyunjin relaxes, though he doesn't let go of your hand. Ateez boys look upset and you suppress the urge to smile. 

Your team is announced first place and the four of you jump in joy and you hear Jisung screaming from the audience. 

☆

You're all dizzy with laughter when Jisung excuses himself to go to the bathroom and MinLix leave to find a friend. Why do they keep doing that? 

Ateez takes this as an appropriate time to approach you two, though they don't even acknowledge your presence. Yunho keeps looking the opposite way, he always does that around you since he was beaten in the dance battle.

“You won't always keep winning Hwang.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes at him but looks uncomfortable, you identify this boy as Wooyoung. A more slender boy? person? human? approaches next with shocked eyes. 

“Is that a hickey, Jinnie?” Though he uses a nickname, it's clear that he means nothing good when he pokes Hyunjin's collarbone with his finger. Hyunjin mumbles a ‘shut up’ but they ignore him. Hyunjin looks like he'd rather be anywhere than here. The next one to say something is Hongjoong, you've seen him around. He's no good.

“Looks like the pretty boy has finally found himself a girlfriend. Or did you find a sugar daddy, Hyunjin? Where'd you get the hickey from?” The whole group snickers behind him and Hyunjin is clenching his jaw. He looks angry and you decide to do something.

“Well he got it from me. You got a problem with that?” You raise a brow at the man, he's barely taller than you.

“Oh come on, l/n. Everyone knows you hate him. Why defend him just because he's on your team?” You take a step further, and look directly at him. 

“Are you calling me a liar, Kim Hongjoong?” He smirks back at you and you never thought any smirk except Hyunjin's could ever make you this angry, but you wanna punch him in the face right here. 

“No, l/n. I'm just saying that's a little difficult to believe considering you were at each other's throats not long ago. If you want us to believe, why don't you give us some proof, eh?” He sneers, clearly expecting you to falter and deny the whole thing.

You laugh at his face, “You want proof huh? Well, how about this?” You turn and kiss Hyunjin, with your arms around his shoulders and his around your torso. Deep enough to make them uncomfortable.

“Alright we get the point. Enough. You're in public, l/n.” When you part, Hyunjin smiles at them in a way you know will piss them off. Because it did the same to you not long ago.

“Well you're the one who wanted proof Kim. Now fuck right off. If I see you bothering my arch enemy again, you won't be allowed into the art history class anymore. Mark my words.” 

You drag Hyunjin to a quiet corner, away from the crowd and shoot a text to the other boys telling them to meet you both at Hyunjin's dorm. 

You check up on the boy and he looks miserable. “Hey. You fine? I'm sorry I should have let you deal with it without interfering.” You apologize but he shakes his head.

“No, that was really funny, I'm sure it pissed them off, just- I'm sorry you had to witness that.” He looks dejected and you can't find it even in the cruelest parts of you to not help him.

“Hey. Listen. I don't care what they think of themselves but they don't deserve to make you feel bad about anything. And I don't think any less of you because they decide to be assholes, if anything I respect you more now.” He gives you a small nod and a smile, this time, an actual, genuine smile.

“Would mind if I just..” he wraps his arms around you and his head comes to rest on your shoulder, “stay like this for a bit?” You hug him back and nothing needs to be said for a while. Hyunjin's hugs do feel nice.

When you bring him back to his dorm, the joke on the tip of Jisung’s tongue doesn't get the chance to escape. He looks concerned for Hyunjin, that's the first time you've seen the boy serious. They exchange glances and it's like he just knows what happened. 

The evening is a quiet sort of celebratory, and you find yourself trying to avoid Hyunjin as much as possible. How are you going to explain anything you're feeling to him when you can't even explain it to yourself? Minho and Jisung make everyone ramen and a sleepover ensues. You're all in Jisung’s room, him and Minho in the same bed, you, Felix and Hyunjin on the floor. Why Hyunjin's not in his own bed is weird to you. Maybe sleepover spirit.

When you wake up to get water you find Hyunjin isn't in his place anymore. He isn't in the kitchen either. You're avoiding him but you don't wanna be the prime suspect if he's found dead. 

You roam around and find him his room, sketching in the faint light of his night light like the lunatic he is, you smack the back of his head, you forgot how dramatic he can be, and you have to cover his mouth so he doesn't scream. “Shut up, you idiot. It's me,” he licks your hand, “eww. Filthy.” You wipe the hand on his shoulder.

“You literally made out with me in public, how's that filthy?” You notice what he's wearing, a white shirt, with the first two buttons undone. You smack him again.

“You idiotic dunce! Do you wanna catch a fucking cold it's literally late November!” He winces and reaches for the sweater beside him, you try to see what he's sketching but he hides it with almost superhuman speed. “Chill Hyunjin, I don't wanna spy on you.” 

“Why are you awake?” He asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep.” 

“Samesies. Though unlike you, I don't voluntarily ruin my eyesight when I wake up a bit too early.” You gesture to the lack of light and he sighs.

“What do you do then?” The question catches you off-guard, it sounds genuine and for some reason you answer it genuinely.

“I write poems. In light.”

“Poems about what?” 

“That's none of your business.” Your voice suddenly sounds cold and you curse yourself for turning out so hostile with your reply. 

“Sorry. I won't intrude-”

“No. I- I don't like sharing it. I don't like sharing at all actually.”

“I get that. There's parts of me I don't like sharing either. Don't feel bad about it.”

“Why didn't I ever notice how thoughtful you are?” 

“Maybe cuz you never tried to.” He presses his lips together and you suddenly feel bad about yourself. 

“Hey,” he says, “I wanna say sorry. I know how much of an asshole I've been to you. It doesn't deserve much forgiveness but it's bothering me a lot. So I say it again: I'm sorry for everything I've said and done.”

You search your brain for any reasons to not forgive him. But with the way he's been the last month, you don't find any. “I forgive you.” You say, and it's like some invisible tension is released from his body. He smiles at you. “Thank you.” 

“Hyunjin?” 

“Yes?” 

“Let's get to know each other more.”

“How?” 

“I'll ask a question, we both answer it, then you ask one.” He nods, so you ask.

“What's something you'd do if money wasn't a factor? I'd be a philosopher or a writer.” 

“I'd be an artist or a dancer maybe. If you could live in one fictional universe, which one would it be? I'd love to be in the Harry Potter universe but the author’s racist.” 

“I think I'd like to live in either Dan Brown's or Rick Riordan’s books.” 

“What's something you wish more people in the world understood?”

That night you feel closer to him than you've ever been. You discover Hyunjin is an incredibly sentimental person, he also is a romantic, he's an only child, his parents are divorced, he has a dog back at home. So many things you never knew about him. He's flawed, you're flawed, but he’s not a bad human being. You hope you aren't one either. 

Ofcourse him being a thoughtful person doesn't rule out the annoying ass he is.

You both don't go to sleep again, you chat while he continues his drawing and you scroll through your notes app editing your writings. You find yourself enjoying his company. Two months ago, if someone told you you'd find peace around him, you would have laughed. 

☆

The five of you seem to stay together almost all the time now that Jisung is also a part of the group. The text comes when you're all out eating a few days later. Minho is offended when you forget to answer his question in favor of staring at your phone. When he sees your expression is when he realizes something's off. 

“What's wrong?” He says, and everyone’s eyes are on you. 

“He wants to meet me. Tomorrow. He's coming here.” Minho doesn't need another word to understand what you're talking about, but the rest of the boys stay confused. Yet no one questions why you excuse yourself in the middle of the meal to go back home. 

Minho doesn't disturb you when you lock yourself in the room you both share, choosing to sleep in Felix’s room instead. He knows you'll need to deal with your father alone. Even if the man refuses to let you be when you've practically abandoned him. 

The next day you leave the house after they're both gone for their last classes. You don't expect the meeting with your father to be anything good, but you know that he'll hunt you down to your dorm or lectures if you don't go where he wants you.  

He never is genuinely happy to see you, you learnt to tell his expressions apart when you were 8, and his smile right now is definitely a fake. He orders a coffee for himself and you politely deny his offer to get you one as well.

He says the same thing he does every time you meet him, trying to convince you of God knows what. You're tired of having this same conversation over and over again.

“Don't do this to me. You're my child.”

“I’m not just your child, I'm a person. You've done enough damage. Stay away from me.” 

“But how can you leave me alone? I'm getting older and I have no one to rely on-” 

“And whose fault is that?” 

“I'm sorry! Ok? But you don't respect me, can't I even want respect and company from my child?” The statement makes you wanna punch him but you just laugh. 

“Don't start talking about respect. Respect is earned, and you did nothing to earn it. And if you couldn't give me the love and support you should have given your child, at least give me the privacy and independence every human deserves.” 

“But-”

“I told you that day. I don't know you anymore. It'd be wise of you to stay away from me if you don't want the police called on you.” 

He tries to say more but you just walk out of the cafe and back to your dorm. You know he won't follow you. He's too egoistic for that. 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

Minho hasn't slept in his own bed for two days, and you haven't seen sunlight in quite a while. The stream of texts your father sent you after your meeting, accusing you of being an ungrateful offspring and a useless human were much more depressing than the real conversation, the one you didn't allow to happen. Finally blocking him felt good nonetheless. You're tired of the responsibility of interacting with him.

You get out of bed and your entire body feels stiff, and your eyes are glitching. Maybe keeping the blinds down for two whole days wasn't a good idea. And you smell. But you still can't find the willpower to shower. 

There's a knock on your door. Minho.

“Yn? You there? I need something from my closet.” You open the door for him and his demeanor softens at your state. He knows you since highschool, he's the only one who knows what's going on and the extent to which it matters.

“Hey. Why don't you go shower, hm? The boys are all outside, they're concerned cuz they haven't seen you for some time but I'll tell them not to worry, ok?” You probably should shower. You nod at him and step out to go to the bathroom. 

Your body feels a lot better afterwards, but the world still sort of feels colorless, you decide to go get some food other than the snacks you lived on for two days. Maybe some actual food will make you feel better. There's a sticky note from Minho addressed to you on the microwave.

‘your meal inside :) finish it all’ 

You smile. He never stops taking care of all of you, that's how he shows you love.

The meal makes you feel a little alive, but the color in your world is still absent.

The boys ask you if you're ok on you way back to your room, you give them a small smile and true to Minho's words, none of them tries to dig you for information. You do notice the unexpected concern on Hyunjin's face. Weird.

Maybe you should go to your classes tomorrow.

☆

The crowd of the noon classes will never be something you like, but at least your first class is something you like and share with Hyunjin and Felix. You zone out somewhere in the middle of the lecture and your brain, your actual enemy, decides to give you thoughts about your upbringing. No matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your mind gets stuck on how unfair your father always was to you. How he deserves to die alone. How you don't feel sorry for saying that. Your lungs have been restricted since that day, but it's becoming more difficult for you to breathe every minute. You need to get out of here. You really need to get out of the crowd before you start hyperventilating.

Hyunjin saw you hurriedly ask the professor to excuse you, he asked the professor to let him go after you, and seeing how you looked, the professor let him. 

You haven't had a meltdown in a long time and your lungs burn as your breathing becomes labored, you find a quiet corridor to hide from the footsteps behind you. 

Your legs go weak and the weight of the ceiling doubles and presses down on your head. You drop to your knees. 

“Yn!” His hand is on your shoulder and you swat it away before you can even comprehend it. Things are too fast, way too fast for your brain to help. 

“Get away!” You can't have him here right now, not when you're vulnerable and he has the power to rip you apart. Your brain doesn't trust him with this.

“Let me help-” 

“I don't need help! Es- Especially from you.” You never see the hurt that flashes in his eyes because something that feels like a strong blow to your chest knocks the air out of your lungs. You clutch your top, even the fabric feeling like a restriction on breathing. 

You hear him mumble a ‘fuck it'  before he knnels down beside you and you're pressed to his chest in a protective hug. Your mental barrier collapses. 

Tears escape you like a dam overflowing, your brain not functional enough to form a coherent sentence. Years of bottled up hurt, the emotionally overwhelming events of the last few days and the unpleasant reminders of everything you lack flow out in ugly sobs as Hyunjin runs a comforting hand across your back. No questions asked. You surprise yourself with how broken your crying sounds.

Your breathing is choked and painful, quite like your life in your childhood home. But there was no one to help you calm down there, no one telling you ‘its okay, you're safe, try to follow my breathing hm?’

You follow his instructions the best you can, calming down enough for some air to flow into your lungs. He makes you drink water and runs to the lecture hall to fetch both of your backpacks. He takes you back to your dorm and gets you a snack without asking a single question. He deems your own room too depressing for you to stay in so he brings you to the kitchen. He observes you carefully until he's sure you're fine.

“I know you don't trust me to help you,” he sighs and regret washes over you like a wave, “forget about the rest of your classes today, get some rest. I'll go back now-” He reaches for his backpack when you speak up. 

“Hyunjin- wait.” He says nothing, but just looks at you, wanting you to continue. 

“Stay,” you say, your eyes still burn from the crying and you don't want to feel alone anymore, “please.” 

He sighs and sets the backpack down. 

“I don't want you to tell me everything, but I can't help if I have no idea what's wrong.” 

He lets you reach out to hug him, you ignore all the confusing feelings in the back of your head. 

“I'm sorry. Even talking about it reminds me of the details. And that usually ends up worse than what happened a few minutes ago.” 

“Mhm.” His hand pats down your messed up hair and you don't remember a touch ever being this comforting.

“It's my dad. I met him a couple days ago, he tried to get me to stay around because apparently he doesn't wanna die alone. But I refused and walked out. He resorted to his old behavior and flooded my texts with all the things he always keeps saying about me. About how I'm useless, no good at anything I do, disrespectful and not worthy of any love and things like that. It got to me more than it should have, but hey, I finally blocked him.”

“I'm proud of you for doing that. And let me tell you something. You're incredibly good at everything you do. You're so smart, and such a good dancer. I was so jealous of you when I first met you.” He says, and you believe him despite your brain saying he's lying to you. 

“Your friends all love you so much. Would you really let a man with no company tell you whether you deserve love or not?”

“But I haven't earned it. I've done nothing to deserve that love.” He makes a disbelieving sound at the statement.

“Love isn't something you have to earn, it's something that is given out of will. And if someone gives you their love without you asking for it. Then you certainly deserve it. Whoever tries to tell you otherwise is lying to you, ok? It took me a while to understand this but trust me. It's the truth.” You nod into his shoulder before you break the hug to look at him. 

“Since when do you care about me, huh?” You joke, not even expecting an answer but he gives you one. 

“Since when? I don't know. All I know is I care about you a lot. I don't like seeing you hurt. Which, again, makes me feel guilty as fuck for acting like I did to you. I don't know why I was so selfis-” 

“Shh, it's in the past now, we're even. I don't mind having you around now.” 

“Is that you being soft for me darling?” There goes his teasing, this warrants the punch in the rib you give him. He grunts in response but laughs anyway. 

“Would you find it funny if I ask you for cuddles right now?” You say, and he looks surprised, but happy nonetheless. 

“I'd find it adorable.” You drag him to your bed. 

“We need to make your room look less depressing after this okay?” He says and you nod before you let yourself fall on top of him, getting an ‘oof’ in reply before he arms come up to hold you. 

You feel puzzled about this whole situation with him and matter how much you like it, you need to clarify it. 

“Hey, Hyunjin?” He hums.

“This, whatever it is, do you want it? Should we like, talk about it?” He doesn't get angry like you expected him to, but replies calmly. 

“I like whatever it is. If you wanna talk about it, we should. I'm not sure I even have a name for it though.”

“I don't have one either. I don't really understand feelings. But I don't want this to stop. Do you?” 

“No. No I don't.”

“Minho knows something's up with us.” 

“I know, I've seen him looking at us suspiciously, though I don't think he hates it though.”

“He's my insurance. Just know he'll murder if you decide to become a bitch to me again.” 

“I won't. Promise.”

☆

You're both up before the other occupants of your dorm come back with Jisung inevitably tagging along. When Minho comes back the first thing he does is check up on you. You tell him about the little breakdown and Hyunjin helping you. He stares at Hyunjin for a good minute as if gauging him for signs of danger but then shrugs and thanks him.

You explain your complicated relationship with your father in minimal detail to the other two boys just so they don't worry too much in uncertainty. It is decided that everyone will go out together to eat and celebrate the upcoming winter break. 

You don't go home for winter break, but Felix and Minho do, so does Jisung, so it's just you and Hyunjin together for Christmas. You don't hate the prospect. 

Two days after the three boys are gone you two decide it's better staying in one place than continuously having to meet each other to prepare for the celebration. You don't hate this either. 

Hyunjin is fun to be around, he's hilarious on top of being beautiful, you're almost sure you have feelings for him, feelings of what sort and how deep, that you don't know. Maybe you'll add one more poem about it to the collection that has been growing everyday. 

You learn he's much more affectionate than you thought he'd be, he's almost always close to you. He isn't clingy per se, but he's always close. Like right now. 

You're trying one of Minho’s recipes and he has got you convinced there's flour on your face, though you're sure you've added more flour to your face in your attempts to remove the original bit because he's laughing like you're a clown. 

“Hyunjin if you're not helping I'm going to the bathroom to wash it off-”

“Wait.” He cups your face and swipes his thumb at your jaw to get the first bit off, he's closer than he needs to be, though you don't think you care. The second bit of flour is on your forehead apparently, that's where his hand is even though his eyes are on your lips. You're almost certain he wants to kiss you. So you do the next reasonable thing. 

Put flour on his nose and run. 

“Hey! Not fair!” He tries to catch you but fails, and like you're toddlers, a game of chase starts.

“Come back here!” He laughs and you return it. 

“Nope. Not coming back there.” You run up to Lix's room.

“Alright have it your way.” He grabs a pillow and before you can tell him no, you're in the middle of a pillow fight. He tries to hit you on the head but misses, and your pillow lands square in his face. He recovers soon after though, and somehow manages to snatch away your pillow and pin you down on the bed.

You're both dizzy with laughter. “All I wanted was a kiss! The betrayal! I want payback!” He complains like the dramatic toddler he is. “Well deal with it Hwang. You're not getting any kisses on Lix’s bed, have some shame.” You push him off in a moment of weakness and take off again.

“NOT AGAIN!”

“The stuff in the oven will burn dumbass!” 

The dinner is made and eaten without incident, thankfully. You make Hyunjin sleep in Felix's room, being pretty doesn't give him an automatic ticket to yours, you like occupying all the space by yourself.

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

You're cold. Too cold. It's almost as if the coldness has seeped into your bones. With every moment the pressure on your body increases, you feel like you're drowning, when your eyes open all you see is a distorted sheet of blue. You are drowning. Your body is slowly sinking deeper. The pressure is pressing down on your brain and your ribs, you call for help but your words aren't heard, not even by you. You scream but no sound escapes your watery prison, you strain your throat with how hard you're trying to make a sound, to scream for help- 

You wake hyperventilating, like you always do from this same nightmare. It takes you a good minute to catch your breath. 

The next thing you do is calculate how much self respect you can sacrifice from your dwindling resources to fall asleep again. Because you certainly won't be able to sleep alone for the rest of the night. 

His door’s open. Maybe disturbing him a little wouldn't hurt? Well that would be the case if he were sleeping. 

“Are you fucking nocturnal?” You say, and you watch him jump and the phone fall from his hand.

“God who even lurks in the dark like that? How do you not make a sound? Are you a vampire?” 

“I dunno. Instincts. Not a vampire though, sadly. Why’re you up?”

“Can't sleep. You?”

“Stupid dream.” You seat yourself beside him. You both seem to have something against sleeping properly.

“Wanna talk about it?” He's put his phone down, you notice. 

“Only if you tell me why you never sleep.” He contemplates for a moment then shrugs. 

“No details but nights never meant good things for me growing up. I'm a light sleeper and on the bad days even footsteps wake me up. Sometimes I can't sleep at all.” He shrugs.

“I can sleep most nights, but I have this recurring dream where I'm drowning for some reason. I can't sleep after waking up from that one. Why are nights bad for you? Memories?” 

“Yeah. I don't like talking about it.” 

“You wanna try going back to sleep or you wanna do something else?” You ask.

“I’d go back to sleep but it seems impossible now.” You don't remember ever relating to him as much as you do right now.

“C'mere.” You gesture to the space beside you, to your surprise he doesn't protest. “Talk to me about anything until it's morning or one of us starts feeling sleepy.” And he does. Your discussion goes from fiction to emotions to the way people behave and then back to anime then to art to poetry and then what not. But when you wake up, there's so much light in the room that you're almost sure it's noon. And you can't move. 

“Hyunjin. Wake up.” He doesn't. “Hyunjin! You stupid ferret, get off me.” He budges a little at that. So much for claiming to be a light sleeper huh? You need to push him off of you before you can get up and check the time. 

11:40 am. Wow. That's a solid 7 hours of sleep. 

You get up to clean up and find something to eat. By the time you shower and dig into your bowl of cereal, Hyunjin finds his way to the kitchen with a puffy face. Adorable. 

“Good Morning, ferret. Sleep well?” You joke. 

“Very well actually, why're you eating cereal…. sitting on the table?” 

“I dunno,” you shrug, “seemed fun.”

You're never witnessed an actually groggy Hyunjin before this and it's hilarious. He's dazed and almost hit his head on the counter. Thrice. It's almost surprising that he manages to get himself water without breaking anything.

“You left me alone.” He complains when you're done washing your cereal bowl. 

“Well I'm sorry but I had to. I was hungry.” 

“No fair.” In a few seconds you discover handling the weight of a tall guy is quite a task. Is it a hug or are you being crushed to death? You're not sure. “Ok I'm sorry let me breathe please!” 

You can finally breathe when he lets go of you, “Now go shower. Your breath’s nasty.” He doesn't reply but just messes up your hair before running off. 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

You should have known. Maybe you can't let good things happen to yourself without attempting to destroy them.

“You're not the brightest outside class, are you Hwang?” You're watching him struggle with figuring out what spice is what. 

“You only say that cuz you're jealous of my class smarts.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Oh please, you were behind me by a whole grade in two classes last semester.”

“That wasn't my 100%, I had stuff to deal with.” 

“All excuses, aren't they?” 

“Everything is a competition for you isn't it?” He sounds disappointed but you're not the bigger person.

“Isn't it for you too?” 

“No it isn't. Forgive me for not wanting to compete for everything in my life.” 

“Why? Scared?” The conversation escalates before you realize it and you blame your tendency to argue with him.

“Why are you so obsessed with being the best?” He's no longer calm.

“You tell me. You were the one mocking me for always being second for a whole damn year!”

“Oh come on, there's more to it! Why are you so fragile about it?” 

“You and your taunts are all there is to it and I'm reacting like anyone would. Why were you so insistent on beating me in everything?” 

“Oh, come on! There's definitely stuff you're not saying, why can't you open up to me?” 

“I don't want to say anything. Why the fuck do you even want me to open up to you?” 

“Because I want to fix this!” 

“And why does fixing it matter?” 

“Because I like you god damn it! Are you that dumb?” 

“Bullshit. You suddenly like me after a whole year of hating me huh?” 

“Why else do you think I'm doing this? Why else would I agree to this?” 

“Maybe cuz it'd make for a very funny scenario don't you think? ‘Hey look at them developing feelings for me just because we stopped trying to kill each other’ sounds hilarious doesn't it?” You don't even know where all this is coming from but you never completely ruled out the prospect of all this being an act on his side. 

He didn't think so, that much is visible on his face when you finally find the guts to look at him. Fuck. You just can't stop hurting people in your life huh? 

“I'm sorry.” You apologize before you turn to leave, but he doesn't let you. Instead of being angry like you thought he'd be, he just pulls you into a hug. The gesture does something to you that you can't quite figure out. 

“Let go of me.” You don't want him to, but you can't find the courage to face this. You're too weak.

“No. I'm not letting you go anywhere.” 

“I don't deserve this Hyunjin. Staying for me will get you nowhere. You're stupid if you-”

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” 

“You… what?” That's not a confession one would expect out of him. But you can't say you didn't do the same.

“You heard me. And I'm not letting you leave without even trying.” You've never heard so much emotion in his voice, even in the few months that you both spent together, you're sure his eyes would be glossy if you look at him now. So you don't.

“But-”

“We need to sort this out, yeah? You can't keep running from everything.” 

Your tears always choose the worst time to appear. 

“I'm so fucking sorry, I didn't-, I'm not…… used to feeling this way ok?” 

“I know. And that's fine. I never expected this to be easy. It's okay.”

“I'm sorry I- I want to trust you. I want to. But it's so difficult..” 

“I don't blame you. We both barely know about the things that we had to deal with. Trust doesn't happen without communication does it? That's why we need to talk to each other. About everything. Even the stuff we don't like sharing. Nothing will work without that, right?” 

It feels like he knows how to take your jumbled up mess of thoughts and feelings and make sense of it in ways you don't even understand. So you talk, about everything you don't like sharing, about your fears and their origins, about the troubles you have with trusting people, about the insecurities you relate to your image, about the pressure you keep putting on yourself to be the best there is and why you do so. 

And he does too, about the way he feels out of control of everything and why that happens, how it feels like an obligation to put his own feelings aside and live by the reputation expected of him, about why loud footsteps or just loud sounds scare him, why yelling brings back bad memories, how he feels like he's carrying a heavy weight from his past along with him wherever he goes, how his coping mechanisms have caused both of you damage. 

And by the end of the conversation it doesn't feel so difficult to trust him anymore. He wouldn't hurt you, not on purpose at least. If he does, well, maybe you want to take the chance. For the sake of it. Maybe you don't hate the feeling of vulnerability. 

“If I fuck this up,” you look at him as you speak, “promise me you'll leave.” 

“You won't. I know.” 

“I hope you're right. I'm sorry for being so stupid.” 

“If we want this to work the first thing you'll have to do is stop apologizing for everything.” It's almost like you're a toddler being scolded. 

“I'm sorr-”

“Not again.” 

“Shit my bad-”

“Hey!”

“Okay! I get it! No saying sorry for everything.” 

“Good.” 

You like his hugs. They're warm. But you also like chaos. So you pinch his waist, the boy is dramatic, of course he jumps and looks at you with the most disbelieving wide eyes.

“What was that for?” 

“That was for being stupidly pretty.”

“So we're doing compliments now, darling?” He's never gonna stop doing this is he?

“If you use the tease voice I'll pinch you harder I swear.”

“Not sure I'd mind,” before he can finish the sentence though, you have him trapped between your arms and the dinner table, he seems quite happy with it, “you seem to like me quite a lot, don't you darling?” 

“And? What if I do?” 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

Your roommates expected to find stuff when they returned from their homes, but stuff definitely didn't include you and Hyunjin arguing over who gets the last piece of cake. The fight seemed…. unserious.

They definitely didn't expect it to end in you and him sharing the last bit. You and Hyunjin. Sharing. Unheard of.

The real surprise came when they were done unpacking. You caught Felix in his room. 

“Hey Lix, guess what?” Poor sweet soul of his, already interested in what you have to say.

“What?”

“I'm dating someone.”

“WHAT? Who?!” 

“Try guessing.” He looks confused but attempts nonetheless.

“Soyeon?” 

“Look I mentioned her being hot one time. That don't mean I'm dating her.” 

“Then who?” 

“Who did I spend winter with?” He gives you a look that says ‘bitch tf’.

“Oh come on. I may be a little clueless but there's no fucking way you're dating Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Oh yeah? Why don't you go ask him? He's explaining the same thing to Minho right now.” 

You find them in the kitchen, and as you expected, Minho looks like it's a normal day for him. No surprise at all. 

Felix however, is quite close to losing it. 

“Hyunjin. Tell me they're making a fool of me.” He says, but Hyunjin stays silent and you fear Felix is actually on the brink of insanity. 

“What the fuck.” It's almost a whisper when he says it. Both you and Hyunjin cannot hold back your laughter. Their reaction was exactly what you predicted.

Minho is the one who speaks up next.

“Come on, Lix. These two weren’t even that subtle. Where'd you think Hyunjin got that hickey from? Just a few weeks after these two stopped fighting? Why do you think I insisted on leaving them alone together?” 

You knew it was his plan. How else would you end up alone with Hyunjin at the most convenient times ever?

“Lee Minho you little fucker, you better sleep with one eye open.” You joke.

“Look at how ungrateful you are. I helped you and you give me death threats? Betrayal,” he's smiling at you, when he turns to Hyunjin however, he looks murderous, “if I hear you hurt my best friend in any way, the world will run out of places for you to hide in. Trust me on that.” 

“Enough Min, you'll scare away my boyfriend.” 

Boyfriend huh? That felt nice to say. 

“Now who's gonna tell Jisung?” 

“Let's all just head to his dorm. Help the boy with unpacking too.” 

“You seem keen on meeting him, Min. What's the matter?” The question only gets you elbowed in the rib.

Jisung's reaction is as loud as you anticipated but he doesn't seem too surprised, you ask him why.

“Oh Hyunjin always rants about things, I'm his roommate, I figured something was up with you.” 

Later, when you have your boyfriend to yourself, you decide to ask him about it.

“So, about what Jisung said”

“Don't believe him, I beg you.”

“Save the begging for other things, I'd say it's pretty plausible, considering you rant about a lot.”

“I do NOT monologue about my crushes, case closed.” Hyunjin really needs to control his fidgeting if he wants to get away with lying. 

You cup his face, “Why are you denying it? It's adorable.” 

“Not funny?”

“Maybe a little funny.” The urge to kiss his nose is strong, so you don't fight it. You die a little when he scrunches up his face on reflex. 

He's adorable and maybe you're a little obsessed.

“I can't believe cornering you somewhere is all it takes to make you blush!” You laugh, because you have him cornered right now. Against his desk this time. 

“It is not!” He defends himself to no avail, it makes you laugh, you're growing increasingly fond of him. 

“Such a pretty liar, huh? Quit trying to deny it, love.” That's the first affectionate nickname you've given him. And its effect is visible, if the smile on his face is anything to go by.

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

“How demanding.” But you do it anyway. And he takes it forward, like he does everytime, this time you're not confused. You want him. He wants you. And it's the best feeling ever. If he walks out of this room with hickeys later on, you don't need to act clueless. He's yours. 

But with the way his lips attach to your skin, maybe you'll be the target of your friends’ judgemental glances as well this time. You don't mind. You're his. 

If Jisung comes knocking now you're pretty sure you won't hear it over Hyunjin. The boy is sensitive. 

☆

“Maybe getting those two together was a bad idea, I can hear them and I'm sitting in a different room!” 

“Leave them alone, let's go to ours. We can't keep sitting here any longer like we're not hearing anything.” 

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

Hwang Hyunjin, how you love him and how his existence is a slap in the face of your father. He's everything good. But first off he's yours. And he loves you. Maybe clay doesn't need to be broken to be fixed, maybe if you just paint over the fingerprints and love the shapes as they are, you'll see some beauty in it. Hyunjin sees beauty in you that's for sure, he never seems to get tired of drawing you, being someone's muse is a wonderful feeling. He's your muse as well though, with the entire collection of writings he's prompted by simply existing. You recited some to him one day, maybe you'll give him a handwritten version of the rest on his birthday.

☆

You think it's ironic, you're back where you started, movie night in your dorm. Only this time you're tangled up with Hyunjin and the three boys are in a weird heap of limbs. Whatever they are, they're your friends. You're not gonna judge. 

But they will definitely keep judging the PDA Hyunjin makes them all witness. 

“You're both disgusting!” It's Jisung, and he's pulled back to sit by a worked up Felix. “He meant disgustingly cute!” 

“Why are you running damage control? They are disgusting.” That's Minho, just trying to eat his pudding.

This is how you like stuff, cozy, homelike, and a little bit silly.  

☆

“HWANG HYUNJIN DID YOU EAT THE LAST CUPCAKE?” 

“I didn't know it was yours!” You will chase him around the place until you get payback. You can hear the other boys laughing their asses off at how terrified Hyunjin is. 

He tries to take off in the opposite direction of you but is a few seconds late. 

“Caught ya! Now apologize!” You pinch his ear and his yelp is the most amusing thing for Jisung, it seems.

“Ow! I'm sorry your majesty! I will never touch your food again.” You almost think you've won before he runs off. You catch him again, obviously. This time in your room. 

“You little thief Hwang, I hate you.” You're out of breath and you're laughing. “Hate and love, same thing aren't they, darling?” He will never stop with that teasing tone. 

“Hmm, maybe you need a better lesson. You're lucky you're pretty, love.” His hair is messed up and he's slightly out of breath, there's a lopsided grin on his face. He's probably the prettiest being to ever exist.

You lean close and the expression on his face shifts a little, he looks a little doubtful, uncertain, almost vulnerable.

“Do you really want me?” He wants you to affirm it, to assure him.

“You know I do.”

☆⋆｡°⁠☆

[halfmoonshines]

Hello! I saw that you write for TVD so I wonder if I can get a Damon x witch!poc fem reader, in which she, deferential to everyone who only expects the worst from him, sees something good in him, which is why she always chooses him and defends him (only Damon receiving all the love and care he deserves) please? With lots of fluffy and angst

thank you <333

deserving

damon salvatore x witch!poc fem reader

summary; you were not blind to everyone's aggression and faults, so why was everyone blind to everything but Damon's?

a note that this is not set anywhere specific in timeline - alsooo... minor Elena hate? She's such a villain to me.

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The living room of the boarding house had been destroyed, couch flipped and table turned to scrap by Stefan's outburst. He had stormed out quickly afterward, but not before telling both Elena and Damon that they had made him this way.

You stood near the entrance to the room, the magic in your veins humming as it begged to be released on the retreating, erratic vampire. He had been binging on human blood for so long now, you weren't sure he would ever go back to the mild mannered man you had first met all those years ago. No matter what scheme Elena and Damon concocted in their desperate attempt to save him.

"This is all your fault." Elena's voice wavered, but it was full of venom. Your eyes snapped to find her but she was locked on the eldest Salvatore. "You did this to him."

Damon shook his head, confusion marring his face. "Elena, you know that I've been trying-"

"If you had just cleaned up your act a bit sooner, Damon!" She was angrily gathering her things now, getting ready to storm out after her equally as volatile ex. "He wouldn't be this way if you hadn't influenced him."

Your eyes were only on Damon then, you could see the tell-tale clench of his jaw from across the room. The way his fingers flexed. He was upset, because he cared, but he would lash out because he didn't know how else to stand up for himself.

"That's not very fair, Elena. Stefan is his own person. Damon didn't make him do anything." Your voice was firm as you took the single step down into the living room, inching closer to Damon. Trying to let him know he wasn't alone.

Elena's eyes narrowed, a disbelieving smile gracing her face. "Are you really defending him right now?"

"Yes." No hesitation. "I am." You could feel his gaze burning a hole in your back while you stood like a human shield between him and the Gilbert. "I understand you're upset, we're all worried about Stefan. But it isn't fair to blame everything on Damon."

Her scoff would bother you for the next week. "Whatever you say." And with that she left.

The nervousness was settling in your chest when you finally turned to Damon, offering him a small smile. "Sorry about that."

His eyes searched yours for just a second before he turned around and walked upstairs silently.

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"Damon, you're bleeding." You noticed the blood literally pouring from his abdomen when he peeled himself away from you, having shielded you from the explosion that just rocked the gym of the high school. You vaguely noticed your friends pulling themselves to their feet around you, Caroline and Stefan arguing with each other over something. You didn't notice Elena storming over.

Everyone else's yelling voices faded away when you looked up to meet his gaze, noticing his eyes flickering over your dark skin, checking you for any injuries of your own.

You reached a hand out to heal him. You knew he would heal eventually, but it was the least you could do since he most definitely got injured shielding you. You didn't know what was going on with you and Damon lately, but just the thought of him bleeding made you nauseous.

Before your hand could make contact he was yanked away from you, a barely perceptible wince coming from him at the movement. You were angry before you even decided to be.

"How could you not warn us?" Elena's voice was shrill against the pounding in your head from the boom that happened moments ago. You couldn't help but noticed she didn't have a scratch on her but didn't hesitate to hit Damon right in the chest.

"Elena." You stepped forward to wedge yourself between them, not wanting Damon to take the matter into his own hands but not allowing Elena to put a hand on him. Vampire or not.

Everyone was staring now.

"No! Don't Elena me. He full knew that this group of vampires had ex military with them. A warning about potential bombs would have been nice!"

You tried hard to put a cap on your frustration. "Why would he willingly walk into somewhere that could blow him to pieces? Pretty sure there's no coming back from that. Even for a vampire."

Elena seemed to debate her reply for a moment, gaze going from the rigid vampire behind you to your own eyes. "One day, he's going to hurt you so bad, you won't care about his feelings anymore." She left with that, Stefan and Caroline in tow. Caroline was the only one who cast a haphazard glance back at you.

"Thank you." His voice was quiet, and your shock was loud.

"Of course."

●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●

"Can you believe him?" You winced as Elena's angry voice sounded after the slam of the front door. You and Caroline had beat her to her own home after the showdown at the grill, hoping to clean up the broken glass you knew was waiting for her.

"I mean, what else do we expect?" Bonnie's reply was sardonic when they both rounded the corner, spying the other women in the kitchen.

"Damon is the most selfish, disgusting idiot that I have ever had the misfortune of knowing." Elena's tone was final as she slammed her purse down on the kitchen counter, pulling up one of the stools to plop into.

You tried to ignore that angry twinge that always started in your chest whenever people set their crosshairs on the older Salvatore. He seemed to be everyone's resident punching bag, despite the recent uncovered issues Stefan also harbored.

"I still say we should get rid of him." Caroline sounded chipper at the idea she presented, ready to have his head on a pike.

That was most definitely all that you could take. The glass you had been cleaning was roughly thrown into the trash can. "So we're going to get rid of Stefan too, right? Cut out the evil right at its root. Maybe Tyler too."

Her friends looked taken aback, each ones eyebrows pulling together while they stole glances at each other.

"Are you okay?" Bonnie was hesitant in her question, her caramel colored eyes focusing on your own.

"I'm fine, Bon. But it doesn't seem like you guys are. For the last year, all I have heard is how Damon is the bane of everyone's existence. How he's evil. How is what happened tonight his fault? Do you blame him for trying to save his mother? You surely wouldn't fault Stefan for doing the same. How can you make him the villain if you wouldn't hesitate to do what he does? If you were put in the same position?" You gripped the kitchen counter, willing your magic to calm from the swirling mess inside of your stomach.

"You can't mean that. He's done terrible things." Elena argued, arms crossing over her chest.

"So have you. So have I. But he's also done amazing things, Elena. He's sacrificed himself time and time again to try and win some kind of favor with you people but you've done nothing but take him for granted, and then demonize him even more when he dares to let your treatment of him hurt his feelings." By the end of your statement, you had your purse hanging off your arm and you were shoving past Bonnie to get out the door.

"Where the hell are you going?" Caroline questioned.

"To go make sure Damon's okay."

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You were pretty sure you knew where you were going to find him. Since The Grill was out of commission due to the commotion early in the night, he was definitely drinking at home. That's where you came upon him, sprawled out on the couch in the living room of his home, tumbler of amber liquid dangling from his fingers.

"Shouldn't you be plotting my demise with the Scooby Gang?" The defeat in his voice nearly made you halt, a sadness pulling at the back of your eyes. This man had no venom to him, only defeat.

You came around the couch and gently moved his legs to the ground, taking the seat you just cleared. Those clever blue eyes tracked your movements, something foreign shaded in them.

"I know you don't usually want to, but do you want to talk about tonight? It wasn't an easy decision to make, Damon." You tried to sound understanding without being placating, fearing him holding up behind those walls he so loved to build.

"It wasn't a difficult decision. She had to die. So she did." You would've believed his cold mask if you hadn't heard the cracking in his voice.

You sighed a bit, daring to reach a hand out to rest on his knee. His gaze snapped to yours quickly, hardening slowly like water in winter. "You don't deserve to feel like the villain, Damon. You're put in impossible positions to make terrible decisions, and then shunned for them. Please don't let their hatefulness make you feel any less than you are."

You thought he was going to quip back at you at first, a sardonic smirk on his face - but it dropped quickly, and his voice was almost a breath when he asked his question. "Why do you keep defending me?"

A million answers floated through your mind, because there were so many. But you felt like there was only one that would suffice right now. "Because I care about you."

His lips found yours quickly, fitting together like the last pieces of a puzzle.

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[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi, I really love your writing. It’s actually incredible how you can write people of the same pronoun and still make it easy to discern the two characters. I was wondering if you have any tips on how to do that without using phrases like “the short one” or anything like that.

1. Use the character's names

I often use 'the protagonist ', 'the antagonist', 'the hero', 'the villain' on tumblr. However, functionally, I use these like names and/or titles.

Using a character name allows you to periodically clarify who is talking or doing something when the reader would otherwise get confused. I know some people take this a step further by actually using 'Hero' 'Villain' as names more literally/directly, but I don't personally like doing that. It jars my brain.

I think 'the hero' etc works as an indicator where 'the short one' doesn't because it's neutral/not providing new info. Traditionally, we often only use physical descriptors when we don't know who a character is, so it creates distance/can jar when used in the middle of a scene. If you are in first person or limited third, there's just not necessarily a reason why your narrator would think of the other character in that way, which is another reason it can feel odd.

Basically, it's a bit like how we don't notice 'said', but would really notice if someone was uttering/shouting/mumbling in every dialogue tag.

2. Use proper paragraphing.

New character doing something, new line. New person talking, new line. New idea/point, new line. Shift in time or setting, new line.

3. Don't be afraid of easy beats

What are easy beats, you say? They are the moments of action or thinking in between dialogue. Body language. Whatever. Even if you don't use 'he/they/she said', because that can get repetitive. They are a way of providing context and variety to your writing, that can often do double work making it clear who is doing or saying something.

Example:

''So this is dialogue," they said.

"Right."

"And you didn't need to say you were talking next, because it was obviously someone else because it was on the next line. And now it's obviously me again. Hi!"

"All well and good until we've been chatting like this forever."

"Well." They stretched out, lazily. "That's what the easy beat that just happened was for. Did you catch me stretching in the middle?"

"But now I'd need a name or some kind of indicator," Character B replied. "Or it feels odd. Too many theys"

"It's all about balance, my friend. The instinct comes with practice."

Character B wrinkled their nose. "But what if I want to talk for a really long time?"

"Well," they said. "Then you can often start with a pronoun use or a character name to establish. Then you make your next point. Try and keep it relatively easy to follow. After that, try to have some kind of easy beat or action happen so the whole thing isn't talking heads." Character A rose towering to their feet, waggling their fingers in another hello. "And, if we're lucky, we never need to say 'the short one said' again, because we can flow our descriptions more naturally into the action.' Now." They sauntered closer, stopping in front of Character A with the worst smirk that B had ever seen. "Shall we ask the audience which of us is taller?"

[batsythoughts]

Soulmate Au with Dick Grayson where the last words they specifically say to YOU are on your wrist. THIS IS HURT/NO COMFORT! There will be no happy ending, so suffer with my thoughts!

'I understand.'

Those are the words that have been on Dick Grayson's wrist since the moment he was born

His parents told him it was most likely going to be said at the end of a long and happy life with his soulmate

When he became Robin, he worried it would be a one time interaction with a citizen before he wasn't able to save them

But when he became Nightwing, he stopped worrying about it and began to live his life to be grateful for all his interactions

He had always asked what everyone's words from their soulmate was when he got close enough to them, having deep conversations with each of them

He was always interested by Alfred's the most. He had two different sets of words on his wrist when everyone else only had one

"It appeared after they had died. A small reminder of the time we had together."

Dick had found that amazing, one would have the reminder of who their person was even after death separated them

At some point after Dick leaving to become Nightwing, Bruce had taken in you in

You had been raised by the Joker after he kidnapped you at the age of 9 to take over as the worst villain of Gotham when he ultimately died

Bruce explained that you had openly denounced the Joker and his views before switching sides

With no other place to go, Bruce had taken you in when you had no place of your own

Even after time had passed, Dick noticed that you didn't spend much time around the other. He never saw you leave the manor except for going on patrol

The most peculiar thing was you had a bandage that went around your wrist where your words were supposed to be

Dick tried starting conversations to get to know you, but you always found a way to get out of them

The most personal thing about you that he could seem to get was these little notebooks you would randomly write in

When he asked about them, you shot him down with a glare

"It's personal, wonder bitch. So back off."

Dick didn't understand why Bruce was still putting up with the same attitude for so long without snapping

He was always told to just give you some space and you would come around when you were finally ready to

Dick never took a liking to how you handled the vigilante business. He thought you weren't focused on keeping the citizens safe and only wanted to make the bad guys hurt more than anything

You always told him to get off your back when he pushed on how you should be more cautious about how to do the job

He started to become frustrated by being around you with how much you pushed back with every word he said, but he still tried to be pleasant

More time had passed and you still didn't really warm up to any of them, but you weren't as hostile with your words

You mostly stuck to your room so you didn't actually have much difference in the previous interactions with everyone

Dick still couldn't shake off the frustration though, no matter how hard he tried to be understanding and polite to you

One day when you had told Dick to 'fuck off to the sewers' after he had accidentally walked into and spilled your drink on your shirt, he was very tempted to yell out as you walked away

Jason quickly stepped in and stopped Dick before he could actually blow up over the attitude you kept displaying

"Dick, you don't entirely understand-"

"That shouldn't matter! They keep acting like-!"

"Like The Joker has raised them to think in a way of 'be useful or you will be killed'. We don't know what he could have done for all those years. We don't even know what life was like before Joker forced his way into the picture. Not everyone was born into loving families. Remember that."

Dick had tried to take Jason's words into consideration as the next few months progressed

You never expressed any form of appreciation to what Bruce or Alfred seemed to do for you. You would mostly just spend time alone around the manor, occasionally sitting around with Jason

The only time Dick seemed to see you express any emotion was when you would randomly write in the notebooks before putting it back in your pocket

Frustration and agitation kept getting bottled up the longer Dick watched the whole situation continue on

It was getting close to a big bust on some plan a couple of the villains had joined together for temporarily to make it successful

It was the end of patrol as Bruce was explaining what everyone's job was going to be for the following night so they could prepare themselves throughout the day

Bruce had mentioned that Damian would be working alongside Jason, and you had mumbled some comment about that

Dick had finally had enough as he looked over and asked what the problem was

You rolled your eyes before saying that Damian wouldn't be able to handle himself with the combined strength everyone would be against with everyone stretched so thin

Dick pushed as he argued that Damian had taken care of himself in worst situations and you should mind what you were claiming about them

Bruce tried to to get the both of you to calm down, but Dick kept pushing as he argued you didn't really know them or what they could do

You clenched your fist while arguing that the precious boy wonder didn't even have a full understanding of what the criminals of the city were actually capable of

Dick finally felt his anger reach the boiling point as be finally began yelling at you

It soon became a screaming match as Jason held Dick back while Bruce got between the two of you as Tim guided Damian out of the area

The anger kept getting worse for Dick as he was finally letting out all the pent up feelings from the past few months of watching you push back against everyone

"This way of thinking is going to be what gets you killed! And when it finally catches up to you, I'm not going to feel sorry for you dying!"

You suddenly become very silent as you just stare at Dick with a deep glare as Bruce raises his voice to make Dick calm himself down

"I understand." The venom is in your voice as you turn around and march out of the Batcave

Dick doesn't truly register the words as he and Bruce start to get in it about how Dick went too far and would need to apologize

Dick huffs as he pulled out of Jason's hold before walking off to go to his room to get some rest

As he walked through the manor, Dick saw Tim and Damian both waiting for him with confused look as they asked what happened

Dick assured them it was nothing they needed to worry themselves with before going to his room

Dick was surprised that you hadn't tried making the day hard for him in retaliation of what was all said

Your door had never opened an inch though the whole day after the fight had happened

The day was eerily calm in a way that made Dick slowly begin to regret what was said. He knew Bruce was right about apologizing, but decided the anger might make you focus on getting the job done and would talk to you tomorrow when patrol was done

Night had come and Bruce had changed the groups so Dick was with Tim while you paired up with Jason

Damian had said he didn't want to be on the mission due to an important test the next day he needed to pass, though everyone was certain it was a lie

No one argued as they got ready for the fight that was going to come before going to the streets of Gotham

The bust had gone down at midnight as everyone had fought to take down as many people they could with the minimum getting away

Everyone had a few scratches as they all helped get the criminals in the transport

Bruce was talking with Gordon when Dick noticed you standing a ways off from everyone else looking confused for some reason

He began to slowly walk over with the intention of apologizing with all the anger and adrenaline slowly fading

The ground shook as Killer Croc suddenly appeared while getting between you and everyone else

None of them could stop it as you got hit and went flying in the air

Dick went to try and subdue Killer Croc before getting hit back into the wall

He felt a pain in his wrist as his arm hit the bricks as the sound of shattered glass sounded from the building you got thrown through

Bruce and Jason were able to get Killer Croc subdued as Tim went over to Dick to make sure he was fine

Dick quickly brushed off the pain in his arm, saying he was fine as he went to the building with the shattered window to go and check on you

He saw you at the far end of the room with your back to him. Dick called out asking if you were okay as he cautiously stepped inside

He thought you were in a daze when you didn't respond. Being mindful of the glass, Dick kneeled down as he placed his hand on your shoulder

"I know you're mad, but this isn't fun-"

The words escape him as he gently pulled you onto your back. Your head still facing the direction you had landed in as the rest only turned slightly with the effort

Dick could only stare for a minute before his hand went to hold the cheek pressed against the floor

The small cracking of your neck that came when he turned your head made Dick's stomach churn

Small pieces of glass stuck out of your skin as your unfocused eyes stared at the ceiling now. A trail of blood flowing down your cheek from your barely parted lips

Dick had to stop himself from throwing up as he got back up and walked into the street

Dick held Tim back when he tried to go in and check on you. When asked what was wrong, Dick could only shake his head as Bruce came up to them

Dick could barely register anything as he watched them put the gurney you were on in the back of the medical examiner's van

They all got promised your body would be treated with the upmost respect until the time for your burial

The journey back was quiet as everyone processed what happened to you when they had thought it was safe

Dick had went to go take a shower to wash of the pressure he felt in his hands from where he had touched your body

He noticed the blood on his wrist when he had removed his shirt in the bathroom

He rinsed a rag with cold water before wiping the blood away to find a sight that made his blood run cold

'This way of thinking is going to be what gets you killed! And when it finally catches up to you, I'm not going to feel sorry for you dying!'

'I understand.'

The words looked like they had just been carved into his wrist with how fresh the new words appeared and the small bit of blood still seeping out of his skin

His thoughts went back to the fight when he had hit the wall. His arm didn't hurt because he was smacked into the wall

It had hurt because that was the moment you had died

Dick couldn't think of who he could confide in with this sudden news. Especially because he had been so cruel to you when you last spoke to one another

How could he have been so cruel to not even think of apologizing before the mission? The last think he said was how he wouldn't care if you died

But you had always known it would be that cruel. You were born with those careless shouts as a mockery on your skin since the first cry

While he grew up with thoughts of comfort over what he might have with his soulmate, you never got that when you saw those words

You had grown up in a world of torture by the hands of one of the cruelest men in all of Gotham, and his words couldn't even give you a sense of comfort over the torturous treatment you went through

It had been a couple of weeks since you had tragically passed away, and Dick found himself in the doorway of your room

He didn't know why he was even here, what he would even try to find, but he was there

The room didn't have too many decorations around as he went in, as if you never tried to find your own style

The clothes in the drawers and closet were like taunts as he touched the fabric (most were soft, so he figured that was a texture you liked)

A candle in your nightstand drawer had never been lit, but the cap had been repeatedly removed (he found that it smelled like flowers during a rainstorm. You must have liked that kind of smell)

There were a few books on the small desk you had with a handful of notes and letters scattered around (it looked like you had been trying to catch up on the education you missed out on)

After some time of looking around, Dick sat at the foot of the bed. He quickly realized something was wrong when his weight pressed on the mattress

He untucked the covers (why would you have been so neat with making the bed?) to find that a small section of the padding had been cut out from a small hole in the bottom

Dick reached his hand in to find the hiding spot of all the small notebook you had written in

He slowly flipped through the pages as he read the neat handwriting that you had

Alfred made a different kind of cookie today. I really like this kind

Jason and I watched a documentary on dinosaurs. The raptors seem the coolest

I glanced at the moon during patrol last night. It was the cresent phase. I think I like that one most

The more Dick looked through them, the more he realized you were distant because you were realizing things about yourself. You were figuring out years of information in such short time, you were probably getting overwhelmed with all this information you were learning

His eyes stop on one small bit you had written, his eyes softening as he kept rereading the words

Dick randomly started laughing today. It sounds nice

You had thought his laugh was nice? Dick didn't even think you paid attention to anything he had done while living in the manor

He kept flipping through each different notebook before he stop on the latest one you had written in

His fingers flipped through to the last pages, expecting to see words of anger and hatred on the paper before him

Dick's my soulmate. I felt my wrist burn when he yelled at me and I just knew without having to seeing what I said appear on my skin. I know I'm going to die tonight.

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought of what could have went through your mind the exact moment it happened. His fingers carefully flipping to the next page as he kept reading

I don't know what's going to happen with the mission tonight, but I know it's going to be my last. Who knows? Maybe I'll be careless just like Dick always said.

Tears began to form in his eyes as he remembered the confused look on your face after the fight had ended. You had died when everyone was supposed to have been okay and you were confused you were alive after the main fight

I hope to whatever type of god that is out there at Dick never finds these before someone else. I know he had every right to say those things, but I don't want him knowing that I knew I was going to be killed. I was an ass and was given nothing but patience from everyone else. I know he will figure out what we were when I die, but I hope that he doesn't blame himself for what will happen. He had no way of knowing just how much it had hurt to actually hear those words. I hope he lives his life like he always had before.

The tears spilled own his cheeks as he closed the book and held it to his head

Everything after that was just blank pages. You still had over half the pages to keep writing in

Dick felt broken as he took in the feeling you had written out clear as day

He had caused so much hurt in your life before even knowing you

His hands clenched around the cover as he allowed himself to cry. In all the realities of how the end could have happened, this was the worst

The was never a mutual understanding, no form of chemistry like he hoped, not even a split second meeting

All that was there was frustration and hurtful words that could never be taken back

But what hurt the most was that your words to him had never been more truthful compared to anything said to him. You didn't blame him for the anger or even lash back out at him

Because deep down, that was the person that you truly were despite everything

You understood

[raineandsky]

Hiiiii, love ur writing!!! May I request a story about the strong and undefeatable villain getting some head injury (maybe concussion) during the battle with some third party, and after that peacefully resting on a bench in alley, but then hero finds him and decides to help, even though these two don't like each other. Pretty please 🐹☘️💗

your please was so pretty i couldnt not write this! i really enjoyed this one, i hope you do too :D

Part of the hero’s job is helping those in need. Stopping when they cross someone lying on a park bench, in the dingiest, darkest part of the park, just feels normal to them in the moment.

That is until they notice who it is.

“[Villain]?” The hero can’t think of anything else to say. Their hands are already halfway to the cuffs in their pocket. “What’re you doing out here?”

This is the part where the villain leaps up with a laugh about how the hero’s fallen into a trap, leaping into a monologue before the inevitable battle.

But instead the villain opens his eyes to glance at them, his gaze not fully focusing on them, and simply says “‘m tired.”

The hero crouches down to his level. It’s clear he has no intention of getting up. They open their mouth to say something curt, distrusting, but they stop themself short.

They’ve noticed the blood painting the other side of the villain's face, dried into his hair and on his skin. Panic flutters in the hero’s gut. How bad is it? What happened? Their training only covered the basics of first aid. This wasn’t part of it.

He looks so small like this. The hero had always thought of the villain as indestructible, perfect in every evil way. But this—he’s defeatable, he’s normal, he’s human. Just like the rest of them.

They carefully push the villain over, earning a disgruntled “eugh” that they ignore to brush his hair away and take in the damage.

“Are yo’ shoes clean?” he says shortly as the hero grapples with a tissue from their pocket. “I think… I’m gonna throw up.”

“Please don’t.” They carefully take their tissue to the villain’s head, which he tries to cringe away from. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Wha’?”

“What happened to you, [Villain]?”

The villain’s eyes train on the hero's idly, unseeingly. “There’s stars on your face.”

“Okay. Okay.” Blood has turned the tissue into a crime scene, but it’s making little difference to the state of the villain. “We need to get you some help.”

It barely even occurs to the hero to do otherwise. A hero isn’t a hero without the soul to do the hardest parts of kindness, they know. To show mercy to those who might not deserve it. To help those who likely don’t want it. To show the villain compassion they know they’ll never get back.

The hero pulls the villain upright, with absolutely no help from the villain. They get him sitting up and he almost keels straight back over the moment they let go.

They settle on the bench next to him, careful to hold him up. “How’re you feeling, [Villain]?”

“I hav’ the… worst headache.” It comes out disjointed, like he’s piecing the sentence together as he says it. The hero pulls his arm over their shoulder. “Wha’s going on?”

“We’re going to the hospital.” The villain barely reacts to this, when before the hero probably would’ve had to drag him there kicking and screaming before. “We’re going to stand up, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

The villain sways on his feet as the hero pulls him up, a slight stagger almost taking them both down. “Oup,” he says with a short breath of a laugh.

“Okay,” the hero says again, more to themself than to the villain. “Let’s get you fixed.”

The hero walks the villain all the way to the hospital, the journey slow and full of close encounters with the pavement, and makes themself at home in his hospital room.

The villain would never do the same for the hero. They’re a villain. Obviously. That’s why the hero is the good guy. They'd expect nothing less.

But when the villain wakes up properly, coherent and all-there, the first thing out of their mouth is an absolutely seething, entirely genuine “thank you.”