#morally gray characters

[shyjusticewarrior]

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Morally Grey Characters

Morally grey characters - operate beyond the dichotomy of good versus evil.

These characters will usually make the choice to pursue their own ambitions over those of the greater good or evil.

Because their goals are removed from these qualities, they could be inherently good or bad, so long as they serve the character's ultimate purposes.

However, that’s not to say that morally grey characters don’t aim to make the world better (or worse) in some way.

They may have a larger goal that they’re striving to achieve.

Example: Immortality for all or taking down a corrupt government.

But this doesn’t necessarily mean morally grey characters won’t see others suffer, regardless of intent.

They are often described as being reserved and unfeeling—a dramatic outward expression for characters whose inner selves are anything but, yet appropriate to exemplify the secrets they keep locked away.

The beauty of morally grey characters is that they don't fit into a mold like many other character tropes, which makes them instantly feel more real.

Tips to Writing Morally Grey Characters

Your morally grey characters should still feel like a living, breathing person and not just a caricature of one. In order to realistically portray them, there are 4 important things to consider:

1. What is your morally grey character's life's mission?

This needs to become their guiding belief, their driving force.

These characters are very goal-oriented.

More than anything else, this is why they make the choices that they do, for better or worse.

2. How far are they willing to go to achieve their goals?

They are unique in that they are capable of making hard decisions that most of us might otherwise struggle with, and they often seem to do so with ease.

What matters is achieving their goals—not necessarily how they go about doing so.

3. They need to still have a system of core values to abide by.

Even morally grey characters have an internally consistent scale of, well, morality (albeit on their own terms).

Give your character a code to live by that even they wouldn’t break.

4. What is their role in your story?

Don’t create morally grey characters just for the sake of it.

Whether their storyline is part of the main plot, or whether they have subplots that influence the overall story, there needs to be a point to it all regardless.

Morally Grey Character or Villain?

What may differentiate a morally grey character from a true villain are the following 3 things.

Recognition: Your morally grey character should recognize that their choices can cause harm, intentionally or otherwise.

Remorse: Following that recognition, and often as a result of it, they must understand and experience remorse.

Redemption: Finally, when even they feel things have gone too far, your morally grey character must seek redemption however that manifests itself in your story.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[fourteentrout]

acotar hot take

there seems to be this really intense polarization with anti-tamlin readers and pro-tamlin readers where most (but not all) antis will be like haha tampons the worst and deserved everything he got, fuck that guy, what a creep, and most pros (but not all) are like he did nothing wrong!!! there are so many double standards!!! look at all the hypocrisy!!!

and like i feel like not only is it more nuanced than that, but the narrative is more interesting because of that nuance. "Tamlin ONLY did wrong things" is untrue, but "Tamlin didn't do anything wrong!" is also untrue. He did a lot of things wrong, he put his mate in danger, he didn't foster any kind of proper communication with her, he was controlling and paranoid and just because he was traumatized doesn't mean his actions were justified. But he also did a lot of things that weren't necessarily bad that were later construed as bad following his shift in character, sometimes even by the characters in the books themselves, which...doesnt really make sense to me. Just because someone starts doing bad things, it doesn't negate the good things they've done in the past, or change their reasoning for their actions at the time. But just because someone may be misunderstood or taken at face value doesn't mean they were actually innocent the whole time, too.

To deny the parts of his character that are written to invoke sympathy in the reader is sort of closeminded, but to deny that he was abusive is an equally blind narrative to follow. That said, sympathizing with him doesn't make you an abuser by proxy. You know, its okay to feel more than just "this guy good" or "this guy bad" about a dimensional, multifaceted character. Like, thats kind of the whole point of morally gray characters.

Ive said it before, but Rhys always being toted as the exemplary morally gray character feels so weird when tamlin is an equally good example of a morally gray character, if not more, but is often completely shunted to the side as this irredeemable, heartless asshole.

i hope this doesnt hurt anyones feelings, but am i making any sense?

[rachel-sylvan-author]

"A Year Down Yonder" by Richard Peck

This and the one before it are hilarious! Highly recommend! The third book just had me sad, so I don't recommend the third. But this and the first one are fantastic! 😊

QOTD: Who is your favorite Gravity Falls character?✨ Answer: Grunkle Stan for me! 🤣

[ketamachine]

The thing about Uriah is that all the characters are truly morally gray ( except for the cops they're just dicks) like it's not that they're sympathetic villains. It's not like they're just heroes who kicked a puppy once. Every character is a deeply complex, multilayered, hypocritical being. Anita abused her children, but she loved them. Kristen didn't protect her children from her husband, but she suffered his abuse as well. Thumbless killed and hurt many people, but he was a child, and he was just trying to survive. Camilla killed and hurt people, trying to make the world a better place. Liam killed trying to protect the only family he has on the godforsaken island. Vincent had a similar motive to Camilla, just more personal. They're all deeply messed up people, both victims and perpetrators, and their complexity makes them feel so much realer. These characters are so raw, you could put them in any situation and know exactly how they'd react because it feels like you know them. They feel human.

[fairfowl]

So like in the comic, Nimona is very violent and does horrible things, but we as the audience still have empathy for her even when we know her actions are wrong

We watch her spiral as the situation grows further and further out of control until even the character who cares the most about her is forced to try to stop her

And Nimona feels hurt and betrayed by this

And it makes me wonder

Was this part of Nimona's character arc a proto-Catra?

[ballinandcantgetup452]

Can we stop calling The Punisher a hero?

I'm sick and tired of the glorification of The Punisher. Frank Castle is a sick man whose happy place is being in a war and it doesn't really matter what or who he's warring against. He never started this crusade for revenge. If it was for revenge, then he would've gone home like 3 weeks in to Punishering it up.

Frank Castle is not a hero. He’s not some tough-as-nails, misunderstood anti-hero. He’s not some tough teeth gritting vigilante with a heart of gold. You're thinking of Wolverine. No, he’s a murderer. Plain and simple. That’s his whole thing. That’s what he does. That’s all he does. He doesn’t fight for justice, he doesn’t save people; he kills. And yet, people still put him on this twisted pedestal, like he’s the symbol of the moral gray and justification. And I’m so sick of it.

Yeah, sure, this is the Marvel Universe, where logic bends, where guys in tights throw buildings and teenagers can swing between skyscrapers like it’s no big deal. Ethics get fuzzy when you have gods and mutants and billionaire playboys. But what Frank does goes beyond all of that. Because Frank Castle is a bad man. A sick man. A man whose entire life is wrapped up in a never-ending war he never really wanted to end.

He lives in a van or warehouse full of guns and weapons, and he’s still out there, free, because he's too violent, too ruthless for anyone to deal with. Nobody stops him. Nobody can truly stop him. Not because he's some anti-hero with a tragic backstory. Once again, you're thinking of Wolverine. It's because he's a walking, talking, killing machine who’ll unload a clip in your face before you even think about it. People think he’s a badass. They think he’s cool. No. He’s a psychopath. A man who is only happy and defines himself by being in the middle of a war.

Don’t get me wrong; I like the character. I really do. But, I read his comics the way you might watch a true crime documentary about Jeffrey Dahmer. You’re not rooting for Dahmer. You’re horrified by him. But you’re fascinated. You’re trying to understand what makes a person tick when their clock is so broken. That’s The Punisher. There’s something raw, something almost cathartic about watching one man wage his own war against crime with no empathy, no mercy, just a hell of a lot of ultraviolence. And yeah, everyone gets in that mood every once in a while.

But here’s what gets me: people out there, actual people, glorify this. They paint his skull on their cars, their jackets, their walls. They act like he’s some kind of symbol of tough love or real justice. But Frank Castle would hate that. He’s said it himself — "Captain America would love to have you. I would not." He despises anyone who sees him as a role model because he knows what he is. He’s not confused. He’s not conflicted. He’s not trying to be a better person. One more time, you're thinking of Wolverine. Frank Castle is a monster.

And he knows it.

So let’s call it out. Call out the people who put Frank Castle on a pedestal like he’s something to aspire to. You wanna read a tough teeth gritting vigilante? Go read Frank Miller’s Batman or Daredevil. You want someone morally gray, someone who actually grapples with the weight of what they do? Check out Moon Knight. But if you want to peer into the mind of a deeply broken, deeply dangerous man, then yeah, read The Punisher. Just don’t fool yourself into thinking he’s anything other than what he is: a guy who likes to kill people, who lives to kill people, and who’s damn good at it.

Frank Castle is not a hero. And he never will be.

[spaceyraccoon]

Some thoughts on villainous characters and morally gray characters - including my own!

Not everyone is going to woobify your villainous/morally gray character. And that's okay! There is no need to always jump to your muse's defense or try to explain away all of their negative viewpoints and traits. Sometimes a negative trait is just that - a negative trait. And that's okay. It's part of what gives your character layers and makes them more interesting. By claiming your character has negative traits and then refusing to own up to them when they arise, it makes your character flat and shallow. It takes away any believability that they actually are a villain/morally gray and leaves us, the reader, with very little feeling that there ever was any risk in knowing them as a villain or a morally gray person. In other words - I believe it's cheating. It's putting a false label on something. It's putting a label of beans on a can of corn.

I've struggled with this myself before. I've had people hate on my characters for sometimes straight up unjustifiable reasons, and that's not fair. It isn't always fair. In those instances it's different. But when you have a bad guy character and their negative traits shine through and it impacts them negatively, you can't suddenly pretend that those negative traits never existed or that they aren't as deep as they seem. Your character can't be two things like that at once - it doesn't work that way, at least, not in a way that has been explained to me in a way that makes sense.

If you're going to have a character with depth, especially a villain character or a morally gray one, you have to own it all. You have to own the bad and the good, you have to own the bad with the good. You don't get to just have all the good and shrug off the bad whenever you want to. Otherwise, you don't have a morally gray character. You just have a puddle that wouldn't get my feet wet if I stepped in it.

[theartisttoyourmuse]

Victoria Schwab: here is a villian/morally gray character

Me: I'm marrying him

[the-haunted-office]

Sometimes introducing a morally gray character or a character with unclear motives be like:

Audience: omg they are pure evil! Kill them! Burn them! Dispose of their body in an alligator infested swamp and then shoot that swamp into the sun!!!

Either that or it's:

Audience: omg they are so babygirl, they are so hot, they never did any wrong, they only murdered for good reasons, they can be perfectly redeemed, especially if they're attractive, they never did any wrong, they are perfect in every way-

Unless they're a woman. Then they're fucked up no matter what and must die immediately.

Prove me wrong.

[arson-09]

this is a call for my mutuals please drop your favorite ACTUALLY morally gray characters!!

((Yes this is related to a piece on how rhysand is not really morally gray but i digress. smile.))

[haveacupofjohanny]

Complex Characters and Imperfect Choices: What Agatha All Along Taught Me About Writing Bianca

Inspired by Agatha in Agatha All Along, I explore how morally gray characters like Bianca in Under The Flamboyant Tree mirror our own imperfections and struggles. #MorallyGrayCharacters #ComplexWomen #CharacterDevelopment #HaveACupOfJohanny #UtFT

For this week’s Saturday Reads, I’m switching it up a bit. Instead of diving into a book, I want to discuss a show I’ve been watching that has sparked some deep thoughts on character development—particularly when it comes to morally gray and complex characters. That show is Agatha All Along, and Agatha’s character has completely captivated me. Agatha is the epitome of a morally gray character.…

[midnightstargazer]

Regulus Black is probably my favorite Harry Potter character, but I don't understand why he's so often portrayed as being forced to join the Death Eaters.

Don't get me wrong, I totally get the desire to portray him sympathetically or give him a redemption arc. And I definitely think there's room for different interpretations as far as what he actually did as a Death Eater and why he betrayed Voldemort in the end. But there's really no ambiguity in whether he joined willingly or not. Every time he's brought up, including when the truth about his death is revealed, it's emphasized that he changed his mind, not that he was never loyal in the first place.

I know there's a popular headcanon that Sirius ran away to avoid being forced to join the Death Eaters, and I can see how that idea would naturally lead to Regulus being pressured to as well. But Sirius never actually mentions Voldemort or the Death Eaters when he explains why he ran away. He also tells Harry his parents were not Death Eaters, and while he indicates they were probably proud of Regulus for joining, he never suggests that they might have pressured him into it.

This is especially important because it's implied that Sirius had more nuanced feelings about Regulus than the rest of the family. (That's a topic for another day, but seriously, he put a hippogriff in his mother's bedroom and carelessly threw away dozens of family heirlooms, all while leaving his brother's room untouched). When he tells Harry about Regulus, Sirius shifts part of the blame for his poor life choices onto their parents, describing Regulus as a "stupid idiot" who was "soft enough to believe" their ideology. If he had any reason to believe they had forced Regulus to get the Dark Mark, and especially if that reason was that they had also tried to do the same to Sirius himself, why not say so?

The version told by Kreacher in Deathly Hallows reveals more about Regulus's decision to join: he expressed blood purist views, admired Voldemort, talked about him for years before joining, and was "so proud, so happy to serve." Again, nothing to indicate reluctance or coercion. He was certainly influenced by his family's ideology and most likely experienced peer pressure from his fellow Slytherins, but that's not the same as saying he was made to join against his will.

I wouldn't be surprised if, by the end of the first war, there were certain pure-blood families that expected their sons to become Death Eaters. Was there ever anybody who wasn't thrilled by that prospect, but went along with it because it wasn't easy to say no? Possibly. But I actually don't think Regulus is a good candidate for that. Aside from everything I mentioned above, he didn't go along with it. Just a year or so later, he was prepared to die to strike a blow against Voldemort. That's much easier to imagine coming from a true believer who for whatever reason had a change of heart than a reluctant Death Eater who only joined out of fear. And in my opinion, it's more interesting that way.

For what it's worth, I don't think he has to be forced into joining to be sympathetic or redeemable. Consider the following:

He was only sixteen when he took the Dark Mark, an age at which the human brain is not yet fully developed.

We're never told about any specific crimes he committed, and he was still a student at Hogwarts during most of his time as a Death Eater. He doesn't necessarily have to be guilty of extreme atrocities (although I tend to think he should be guilty of something beyond just going to meetings and having an ugly tattoo).

He was noted to be kind to his house-elf. Regardless of exactly what that looked like beyond not being cool with what Voldemort did to him, it creates an interesting contrast with the Malfoys and the way they treated Dobby. This suggests that Regulus didn't enjoy engaging in pointless cruelty just for the sake of being cruel. Which is admittedly a very low bar.

He did eventually turn against Voldemort, and none of the characters who provide accounts of this seem to fully understand why, making a wide range of headcanons plausible.

In an AU where he survives his trip to the cave, he would almost certainly end up going into hiding and/or changing sides, and therefore would be separated from the influence of his family and fellow Death Eaters, quite possibly surrounded by people who would challenge his views.

There are enough ambiguities and indications of nuance that (in my opinion) he can be portrayed as a morally gray character, set up for a redemption arc, or just humanized and portrayed with some degree of sympathy, without undermining the fact that he did make a really awful choice.

So what's the appeal of having him be a good person from the start? Like, I understand that morally gray characters are not everyone's cup of tea, but there are plenty of straightforwardly good characters in the series. What's the appeal of changing the narrative to make a Death Eater basically an innocent victim?

[fourteentrout]

I honestly think that the ACOTAR series and it's characters are more complicated than fans give it credit for. Like a lot of fantasy readers in the modern age of booktok and all that shit always seem to crave a morally gray character, but when a character is actually morally gray they sort of...don't acknowledge it?

Because pretty much every single character in that series except for the obvious villains (Amarantha, king of hybern) are morally gray. Including Tamlin.

He's a really interesting case because he has these abusive behaviors, this consistent like Giving Up where he just heeds to his anger and his powers, but his entire driving force is that he doesn't want to be like his cruel, murderous father. Like, his essential action as a character is in direct conflict with his base characteristics, like isn't that so interesting??? But he's always just chalked up to the abusive anger issues ex who doesn't deserve any more chances because he already gave so many up. Like...do people know that even if a character is a Bad Guy, like a real bad guy, not your charming, suave, comedic villain bad guy, but like a guy who's fucked up and broken and mean and sad, can still be a compelling, multi-dimensional character?

And Rhysand. He's a super interesting character because though his intentions all come from the same place of like striving for peace and unity and other virtuous shit like that, he's still willing to overwrite his OWN MORALS if it means working towards getting what he wants--remember when he left a head in Tamlin's garden? I had totally forgotten about that because he never really exhibited any behavior that matched that, but if we think about it it was pointing to this facet of his character where, at least a the start of the series, he was willing to do a lot of fucked up shit for the greater good.

Which is like the definition of a morally gray character. But when comparing the two, often he's just taken as The Better One who can do no wrong and like rose above his role in society and would Never Ever treat Feyre like an object...which...he kind of did? Obviously not to the same level as Tamlin, or in the same way, but like for a lot of the beginning of ACoMaF he was pretty much Also using her as a piece in his personal war effort that he like didn't really fully inform her about for like...kind of a while.

Idk I know I'm rambling, sorry this is so long, but like I could make an entire other post about how FEYRE is ALSO super morally gray and like a lot of the point of her character is that she's like kinda fucked up and does fucked up things and has a lot of healing to do and makes mistakes even when she's still in the active process of like getting better, like the whole essence of her is that she's Not perfect, not that people don't get that, just that it's interesting that people will uphold these characters, her and Rhysand and the whole inner circle, and praise them and love them unconditionally, but when it comes to characters like Tamlin, they are deemed undeserving of a second chance because the bad shit they did was a) done to the main character(s) and b) magnified much more than the protagonists misgivings. Idk it's super early, I'm just rambling, I'm sorry

[saturnfairycat]

Blame

Work #1 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's Note: What's this??? Different from archives again????? This one I feel like is an "official" work, but not for the webtoon- just work of my own. It is pretty long (6 pages on google docs). So here is a debrief before we jump right in. Debrief: Word count: 3,279 Warnings: Death, sensitive content, flashbacks. Enjoy! 🐇

Blame

It’s been weeks. I can’t sleep. I can barely close my eyes without picturing the pool of blood. Shit. 

Drowning my cries with wine and celebration, I feel like a siren who never was meant for the sea. Drawn to the one thing that would kill it. I wish it will kill me. Please. 

“Gather around!” said my lover. Oh, how beautiful she is. Like the brightest sunflower in a field of them, too beautiful to be plucked from its stem. She belongs where she roots— she will wilt otherwise. A group of wild, curious children squeals as they run up to her, sitting down in front of her with glistening eyes of wonder. She giggled, eye wrinkles forming ever so slightly as her eyelashes flutter down to touch her soft skin. 

The hall was full today, everyone was still celebrating the conquest of the kingdom— being the third day in a row. Too quiet at home, too loud in the streets; the great castle hall was the only place left for a crook such as I.  

“Now…” she leans down, seeing eye to eye with a few of the kids that were really close to her feet. “Who would like to hear about the great adventures of our hero?!” The kids laughed as they cheered, fueling her craving to entertain. “What adventure would it be today, little ones?”

A lot of them spoke at once, it was inaudible what all the requests were— it was doing my head in. Ringing in the ears, I clench my jaw as I lift my cup for another round of alky. I shut my eyes in frustration, trying to ignore the noise— it’s difficult when they are only a few feet away from me. 

The glimpse of a corpse’s mouth filled with tainted blood, drooling down to paint their teeth and chin red welcomes me into the darkness. Their glossy eyes beckon me with guilt, they scream fear. I choke at the thought, drowning in the sea during a storm. My eyes shoot open as I bang my chest rapidly, thundering my racing heart. 

She was too busy to notice, glancing left to right as she drank in the requests. She said nothing until one stood out to her. 

“The fight between our hero and the villain!” shouted a kid from the back. The surrounding kids registered the suggestion and nodded along before shouting the same thing moments later. Soon, all were shouting the same thing— gaining attention from surrounding adults.          

She grins, raising her hands to get them to calm down. “What a wonderful suggestion! It is personally my favourite tale, too!” She gets comfortable in her seat, looking up for the first time to meet eyes with mine. Her eyes twinkle, if it was any other day— it would’ve made my stomach do backflips. But today, it makes me sick. I dig my nails into my thighs, forgetting that my leather pants were made by her, forgetting that I cared for such sentiment. 

She looks back down excitedly, her voice pitches as she announces: “I remember like it was just yesterday, but there is still the chance I will get things wrong! But fear not! Our brilliant hero is here to correct me if I am mistaken.”     

She gestures to me, I hide my bewilderment as both children and adults alike turn their heads in my direction. I clear my throat, raising my cup in acknowledgment. It was her turn to clear her throat, receiving all their attention once more. My shoulders relax a bit, trying to ease tension for what is about to happen next.

“Now… It was a beautiful night.” her arms gracefully entailed her words, mesmerising them into the story. “...After finding out where the villain was hiding— we decided to give them the pleasure with a visit this time round.” She smirked darkly, setting the mood even more. “For once, they didn’t expect us— but the sly fox still had tricks up their sleeve.” 

My heart was hammering against my ribcage; my head felt light as blood rushed to my head. The audience wasn’t the only ones imagining the tale, I was as well. 

The smell of cinnamon and mint when we sneaked into their house— the hazy atmosphere from the mist that was indulged with candles, the sound of vinyl in the background. The threat of my knees caving in as I crept up the stairs; the perverted feeling that clung to my skin as framed pictures past the corner of my eye. My friend’s hand tightly grabbed onto the back of my shirt, following me like a leech that was scared to be shaken off their host. 

Millions of thoughts had rushed to my head, I had calculated every single outcome possible. 

All but one. 

“He howled like a siren, drawing us in.” my lover pretended to claw at one of the kids that had started to lean against her leg. “He was bathing, we had chosen the perfect time to strike!” The audience laughed at his mockery. My breathing stifled at their response. For once, her storytelling didn’t hold any justice. 

He was soaking in soapy water, rosemary and bubbles were floating on the surface. He sang. And oh stars, he sure knew how to sing. He put the vinyl that was playing downstairs to shame, he sang like the heavens were listening. We stood in front of the half-closed bathroom door, witnessing his shadowed figure massaging his scalp. He sighed as he caught his breath, he swayed with the beat in his head. 

This isn’t the villain I know. I remember thinking at the time. Who is he?    

“We charged forward, ordering him to surrender.” Her tone strengthened as her face turned stern, perfecting the role of acting. “His face painted fear, we thought we had caught him at last!” 

Lies. 

His face was struck with horror and shame. My friend pushed me aside, slamming the door open as he pointed his sword at him. The others heard the commotion and were making their way up the stairs as he froze in place. I stood where I had been the whole time, like a mere bystander that got off to seeing people suffer. His face grimaced with betrayal; his eyes were screaming out with shock— how was it possible for heroes to stoop lower than the villain?

I hissed as I lifted my cup once more, sight being blinded by the high ceiling lights. My throat burned; my legs shook. 

She continued.

“We had him cornered! He was scrambling! But we trap and crush cockroaches with no trouble.” She raised her voice: “He ought to surrender! But he didn’t?!” She glanced at some of the adults. “He ended up playing dirty.”

He grabbed at the shower curtain as more of us entered the bathroom, he yanked it down to cover his waist— his tattoos kissed the edge of his shoulders in the moonlight. He scowled at us, cursing our bloodlines as he stood up. I looked away, staring down the dark hallway in panic— this isn’t what I planned to happen. Just as my eyes lost sight of him, he lit the bathroom on fire. 

Perfumed smoke forced its way down my throat. I inhaled the sweet, charcoal scent as I gasped for air. Everyone ran out before being engulfed, stumbling downstairs to seek lower ground. The dried flowers and herbs were scattered on the bathroom floor, flames dancing across each petal as it blazed. I stared bewildered, looking up to see equally fiery eyes. He looked at me in fear for the first time; he looked at me in disgust. 

“We rushed to safety, planning the next steps forward…” She had risen now, acting out movement and grace. “Our hero was still upstairs, eyeing down the weak villain.” 

He overpowered me with ease. 

He stood out of the bathtub, clinching the shower curtain as he crushed the burning herbs with his bare feet. He never broke eye contact as he started walking out of the bathroom. My legs finally moved, stepping in front of the burning bathroom. Towering over me, he looked down with pity— his hair dripped water that fell onto my ashamed face. 

“Move, bunny,” he said quietly. 

“N-no,” I fired back. 

He sighed— with one hand, he shoved me aside. His feet planted onto the cool wood boards, looking down the stairs while thinking to himself. I charged forward, breathing rapidly as I aimed my hand to hit the back of his neck. He caught my hand without even regarding me, turning around moments later to slam me on the corresponding wall— arm restricted above my head. 

“I am warning you,” he said. “That’s enough. I am done with you.” 

He let go of me, walking down the dark hallway that was now filled with smoke. 

“They fought as they escaped the smoke, but the villain was leading her down a trap!” She was standing behind me now. As she played out the scene, she slowly made her way to me in a way for me to contribute. “But oh, nothing was too witty for our lovely hero.” Her soft hands cupped my shoulders, I winced at her touch.

I remember reluctantly running after him, coughing up my certainty as he neared the door at the end. He stopped to open the door, I stopped to keep my distance. The door revealed stairs, leading upwards— to the attic. He turned to me, his face blank like the dead. 

“Are you coming?” he questioned. 

I followed as my answer. 

The attic was undoubtedly his office, papers were everywhere and ink bottles were stacked on the shelves. The church-like stained glass window shone a shadow of colour on the floor, and he walked into the light. He looked down at a particular piece of paper beneath him, before stepping over it and crossing the other half of the room. He opened the wardrobe leaning against the parallel wall, the doors swang open with a thud— making me jump. 

It was filled with cloaks and suits, majestic outfits for a majestic villain. He picked out a deep sapphire suit, attached to a dark red cloak. He paid me no regard once more, walking to a part of the room that was secluded. His muscles flexed as his face drew frustrated; his chest heaved when he stepped on his papers by accident. I stared out the window as he disappeared, still too shocked to speak or move on my own accord. 

He gritted his teeth when he came out, dressed to impress. He must have found fitting shoes back there because his swollen feet were now replaced by clicks and clacks. His coarse fingers brushed through his damp hair, staring me down as he reached for his pocket. 

“He had a secret weapon, see! Our villains have always been known for their bows and arrows, but this villain was especially known for his–”

Poison. 

He drank from the small bottle that came from his pocket, dark lashes lifted as he spat it out towards my face. I finally moved, dodging the deadly splash as I drew out my sword— my eyebrows furrowed as I leaned down to an attacking stance. And all he did was smirk, he tossed the glass bottle aside as he drew out his own sword— it was green, no— not the blade, but the poison that covered it. 

“They fought while we were clearing the fire— as they fought, the house shook from their attacks.” She pretended to wobble, holding on to me dramatically for support, receiving hearty laughter from her crowd.

“Just like old times, huh?” he shouted. He swung his sword towards my neck, which I reflected by swinging my sword back using my core strength. We were inches apart as we battled, our swords intertwined and made a horrible noise. I kicked at his abdomen, retreating slightly to catch my breath. 

“I remember how you used to loathe me,” he paused. “How you were dead-set on defeating me.”     

He doused his blade in more poison before continuing. “I always wondered why.”

I paid him no mind, swinging my sword forward as my heels tried digging into the floorboards. His face furrowed, irritated that I did not reply— he deflected my blow with his blade. We were in a stalemate once more, my arms shook against his strength. He looked down at me again, in pity. His nondominant hand lets go of his blade to grab at my face, making sure I wasn’t going to look away from him. 

“Why do you use your arrogance but never your words?” he sighed. 

“...He was getting tired— mostly due to the fact he swallowed his poison by mistake,” my lover smirked. “It didn’t take much more for our hero to take him down— especially considering that he was spending no effort in his usual mind games.”

“I’m quite disappointed in you, little hero,” he said mockingly. “How is it that you only wait for the perfect stimuli and then take action— rather than being your own person and making your own choices without environmental factors weighing you down?” He shoved my face away, he shifted his body weight onto his hip so he could exert more powerful blows. I was coughing, struggling to keep up with his strikes and lashes. “Provided by the fact you stood there stupidly as you watched me stroll around my office changing into my clothes.”

“How is it, you blame everyone but yourself?” he added. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I know your lovely little reputation of being a selfless, kind saviour— but in reality, when things start burning up in flames…you attempt to point fingers at everyone around you for ‘forcing’ you to make the choices you did.” 

He kicked at my blade, my wrist bends unnaturally as I feel a tendon snap. I glared at him, with less anger but more fear. He used it as his fuel, as his saving point— he was playing chess with my mind… and winning. 

“...Do you blame me for the death of your lover?”

I ceased. 

“What-?”

“And then… there was silence,” my lover whispered. “It was strange, the house wasn’t shaking anymore— and we didn’t hear anything from either of the two.” She glanced down at me, smiling warmly before continuing. “We assumed the hero had won.”

He chuckled, and his laugh progressed to become more and more maniacal as he stared at my mazed face. He held his stomach, his dark curls shook as his shoulders moved with his lungs. 

“Don’t try and act innocent now,” he finally spoke out. “I knew that your poor, precious lover was actually dead— god forbid that she should’ve just been laid to rest.” My eyes widened as he continued to speak, my mind screaming at him saying NO. “You blamed everyone,” he said. “And you couldn’t accept that the only person who actually tried loving you died.” 

He reached into his pocket for more poison, but soon realised he had none left— and sighed. “Are you a believer in God, bunny?” he questioned. “No? …Hm. Well, do you like to play God, bunny?” 

He stepped forward.

“Playing her great God? Digging up her flowery grave and replanting life into a wilted sunflower?” he spat out. “You’re sickening. A grave digger AND a cruel personification of a necromancer.” He came closer. I lifted my arms out in front of my face in shaky fear. 

“You forced her to be happy when she took her life because she wasn’t,” he said, looking down at me once more. “Everyone thinks she was just blessed by the Gods in the clouds, giving another chance at life— no suspicion rose whatsoever. How did you revive her? Are you a necromancer?”

I stared blankly at him, breathing heavily as he looked at me with impatience. 

“Not going to tell me your pity secrets, huh?” he spat out. “I figured as much, but wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.” He sighed, leaning down so our noses were inches apart.   

“Do you still loathe me, bunny?” he asked. “Well? Do you still blame me for the death of your lover?” 

“But then… there was a sudden CRASH!” my lover shouted, slamming her fists onto the table in front of me, all the cups and plates wobbled at the intensity. “We came racing up— fearing for our hero!”

I stabbed him. 

I jumped at him, forcing him to crash down onto the wooden floorboards. I clawed at his face while my sword twisted into his intestines. I scratched at his throat as I yelled at him. My mind was hazy, it must have been the smoke at the time. I was angry. Beyond angry. How dare he. How dare he?! HE was the one my lover loved, but he broke her heart by murdering the people from his past… she was a person from his past. She knew them. The dead ones. Every single one of them. Revenge was sweeter to him than love. Toying with people in a way to bring forth meaning and punishment to the word for their sins. She did nothing wrong. Nothing. Just another pawn for his plans. 

He reminds me of the devil.

But I loved him. Even before her—I loved him first. She didn’t know, but he knew— and he loved me back. But I pushed him away. I was foolish when it came to love. And he was cold when it came to mercy. I pushed him towards her, she loved him, afterall— because she was a sunflower that looked for the sun, not a siren. 

But then, sunflowers became my favourite flower. 

They’re bright, special, and yello–

…

…there was red.

…

“We rushed up the strange staircase, smelling pungent chemicals and sourness—” my lover urged. “When we had reached the top, we saw the victory— we saw our hero still alive with the evil man finally defeated.”

No.

Nonononononono. Oh no. Oh god. 

No please–

He just laid there. His face facing to one side; his glossy eyes stared into the deep space of nothingness. His mouth was slightly agape, and a pool of blood mixed with a hint of his green poison fell from his lips and down his chin. I sat on top of him, looking down at his lifeless body. 

My eyes strayed from what was in front of me to one of the many papers scattered across the floor. It was the same paper as he glanced down at beforehand. It was a sketch of me, drawn specific to detail and flattery. His signature kissed the edge of my shoulder. 

“...Do you blame me for the death of your lover?”

“..We saved the kingdom! We brought justice back home,” she announced happily. “We united everyone sane and kind to become one kingdom, so we could work together in harmony.” She pressed her lips together before smiling. “Hail to our hero!”

“Long live the hero!” chanted everyone in the hall.

I wish I had drowned in his poison. 

***

Most of the kids were taken by the hand of their parents and went home. A lot of the drunks were snoring near the fireplaces. My lover sang to me as she brushed my hair out. 

“You know, you remind me of a rabbit,” she pointed out. “You’re quick, smart, adorable… and have really fluffy hair!” 

I stare at her, half registering what she was telling me.

“You’re my amazing little bunny,” she giggled. “I love you, bunny.”

I bit my lip in suffocation. 

“...I love you too, sunflower.”   

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

🌻

[rp-partnerfinder]

Hi, you can call me Storm! I'm 30 and the mom of a loud and demanding cat ❤️

I’m a multiple paragraphs/novella style writer. I love to write detailed descriptions and delve into a character’s head/emotions as well as surroundings. I compare it to writing a novel together. Not every reply has to be novella length, however. If there are action or dialogue heavy scenes, I tend to do a shorter back and forth to keep the momentum going. 

I only do MxF (with me writing the female role). I don’t double, but I’m more than happy to write side characters of either gender to help move the story along. I only want female authors writing male characters as I’m uncomfortable with cis male authors. (Nonbinary pals are an exception).

I'm really hoping to find a friendship, someone who can add to our story, and most importantly, someone who wants a long-term connection. It's difficult for me to write with someone if I don't feel that genuine bond. It's also important to me to have a high level of activity, with at least one reply a day. 

If you suddenly stop replying ic and ooc, I'll drop the story after 2 attempts of gauging interest spaced a week apart. But feel free to message me if you want to pick the story back up again, even months later. 

Searching For: 

20+ partners only 

An excellent grasp of grammar, punctuation, spelling, and capitalization. (Literate to advanced writers only, please. I'm not looking for newbies)

Plot before smut. While mature themes will be in my writing, there needs to be chemistry between our characters. I normally do a 60/40 plot to smut ratio and my characters tend to be subs/switches depending on the circumstances 

 An older male character (early forties to mid-late fifties). I love the gruff and tough men with dark pasts who secretly have a soft heart. I also love grumpy, hypermasculine men being intimidated by sweet but fiery women. My characters are mid-late twenties to early-mid thirties so the age gap is legal. 

I'm not looking for age play. It's a romance between two consenting adults who each act exactly their age, and they just happen to be different ages. 

Enthusiasm to chat about our character and ship, how to crush them and then gushing over fluffy moments. I love crying over characters and what the heck they’re doing. I want my heart ripped from my chest from angst, then feeling like it’s going to burst from overwhelming cuteness. I want us to love these characters and the world we create. I want to make pinterest boards, spotify playlists, graphics, and toss headcanons back and forth until late at night. 

Have an idea for a scene? Found a picture that inspired you? Send it to me! Be invested when it comes to plotting/worldbuilding. There’s nothing worse than receiving one sentence in reply to two paragraphs of ideas, or having a doormat partner who says “sure” to whatever I ask. Building ideas one on top of the other, watching them snowball into amazing plot threads brings me joy. But having to pull plot ideas like I’m pulling teeth makes me think you’re not interested, and I will lose interest in return.

Interests: 

Modern fantasy, monsters, sci-fi, omegaverse, southern gothic/midwest gothic (i’m a sucker for that southern/texas drawl), horror, height/size difference, cheating/affair, enemies to lovers, slow burn romance, spooky small towns, post apocalyptic/dystopia, crime/mysteries, emotionally charged/dark and gritty, bodyguard x assignment, forced proximity, opposites attract, fated mates, anti heroes/morally gray characters, traumatic pasts, grumpy x sunshine, one bed, men who simp over their women, touch her / him and die, and more.

I have lots of original plot ideas in mind as well!

Fandoms (OCs ONLY) 

Star Wars, Stranger Things, Mercy Thompson Series, True Blood, The Last of Us, Hunger Games, Fallout (TV Show)

I write only on discord using servers with organized channels. Like this post or add me on discord (magicofrain) if you’re interested. The most effective way to grab my genuine interest is by messaging me with a detailed reply. Please let me know which interests you liked from my ad.

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