#dragged into a personal revenge plot without his knowing

[tatonslice]

ive complained about it several times and i will continue to complain about it until the end of time but it absolutely baffles me how badly morikaze got fucked up by the writers

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Not Another Royal Mess - Azul Ashengrotto x reader

As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.

Series Masterlist

You stare blankly at the manuscript in front of you, feeling your soul slowly withering away, shriveling like an overcooked raisin under the weight of yet another tragic tale of misguided villainy. The title alone—The Villainess Who Was Actually Just Trying to Mind Her Own Business and Got Beheaded Anyway—had already set the tone for what you could only describe as a disaster in prose form. How this had slipped through several rounds of quality control was beyond you.

Maybe it was a prank. Maybe it was revenge. You couldn’t tell anymore.

You take a deep breath, a sigh so deep that it feels like it's being dragged up from the depths of your very soul, a sigh that could only be summoned by a story so ridiculous, so absolutely bonkers, that even you—seasoned proofreader extraordinaire—were questioning every life choice that had brought you here.

"Okay," you mutter to yourself, flipping through the pages with all the energy of a reluctant retiree trying to pick up knitting. "Let's see. We’ve got your standard fantasy kingdom where every noble is born with elemental powers. Classic. The saintess is the only one who can wield all four elements. Cool, cool, makes sense." You pause, eyes narrowing. "Except for the villainess who's faking it with a magical rock she bought off of Fantasy Craigslist and just... does all the same stuff the saintess can do without actually, you know, saintess-ing anything bad. Just... being suspiciously good at wind and fire, I guess?"

You squint at the text like it’s personally offended you. "So let me get this straight. The heroine—who, by the way, isn’t the real saintess—finds out about the rock and immediately turns into the nation’s tattletale. Like, she just full-on rats the villainess out to the entire country and gets her beheaded for daring to do an accidental cosplay of a saintess? Seriously?"

You blink. "And the prince? The so-called male lead? He’s not even mad because the villainess was evil or anything. No. He’s mad because she... rejected him? Oh, so that’s the crime. She bruised his precious princely ego, so naturally she deserves to lose her head. Makes perfect sense. Absolutely logical," you deadpan, flipping another page with growing disdain.

“And just when you think it can’t get any dumber,” you continue to mutter, “the heroine uses the exact same magic rock after she gets the villainess killed, struggles to use half the power, but instead of everyone questioning her, they just...” You drag a hand down your face. “They just... pat her on the back for her effort? What? Oh, bravo! Standing ovation! You’re so talented! What a genius!”

You want to scream. You can feel it building up inside you, a primordial rage that no amount of fantasy drivel can suppress. How... how did this get published? How did someone not raise their hand and go, “Hey, maybe the heroine is the real villain here? And maybe the villainess is just really good at rock collecting?”

Your eye twitches.

Then you get to the part where Azul Ashengrotto—a.k.a. the business owner and kingpin of the information and assassination game—gets dragged down in this hot mess of a plot for the crime of selling a magical rock. He’s not even involved in the drama. He just sold a crystal, did his job, and suddenly he’s collateral damage in this ridiculous farce. And beheaded. You slap the manuscript down on your desk, nearly choking on the sheer absurdity of it all.

“He sold a rock!” you yell to no one. “One. Rock! And he loses his head because the heroine doesn’t know how to mind her own damn business! And no one bats an eye?”

You imagine Azul, standing there with a bemused expression as the sword comes down, probably muttering something like, "Well, this is an unfortunate turn of events."

You shake your head, unable to wrap your mind around the sheer audacity of it all. "So, let me get this straight. The heroine kills the villainess out of jealousy and rage, takes the same stone, uses it poorly, and somehow becomes the saintess? And no one questions it? Not even one guy in the back going, ‘Hey, wait a minute...’?"

A laugh escapes you, bitter and incredulous. "I’ve lost all faith in fantasy kingdoms. They deserve what’s coming to them. Honestly, if their idea of justice is to murder anyone with a shiny rock collection, they probably deserve whatever apocalyptic disaster is waiting in book two."

You sit back in your chair, contemplating the many ways you could disappear off the face of the Earth to avoid reading the inevitable sequel. Maybe you could fake your own death? Dramatically crash through a window with a glitter bomb, leaving behind a cryptic note that reads, “Gone to buy a rock, brb.”

But no. You were a professional. You would soldier on.

Then again, if this novel could get published, maybe it was time to start your own writing career. Surely you could cobble together something halfway decent. Maybe a story about a villainess who just wants to live her life and ends up getting murdered by a heroine with a major inferiority complex. Oh wait, that’s literally this garbage fire in front of me.

You sigh again, this one even deeper, more existential than the last, the type of sigh that could bring about world peace if properly harnessed. Your eyes wander from the steaming pile of poorly written drivel, caught somewhere between disbelief and mild homicidal thoughts. You rub your temples, wondering if proofreading was really the best career path for someone who still had shreds of sanity left.

"Maybe I should've been a baker," you mumble to yourself, stretching your arms overhead. "At least bread dough doesn’t hit me with nonsensical plot twists."

As you stand, ready to grab a snack to soothe your wounded soul, you don’t notice the precariously stacked pile of villainess novels towering on the shelf above your desk. The entire collection of "disaster-bound fantasy heroines and their poor life choices" sways ever so slightly as you brush against the table, and then... it happens.

One moment you're contemplating the logistics of moving to a remote island where bad writing can’t reach you, and the next, you hear a spine-chilling creak followed by a horrifying cascade of poorly bound paperbacks. The avalanche of literary mediocrity comes crashing down on you in one tragically comedic sweep.

"Are you kidding me—" is all you manage to choke out before the entire bookshelf’s worth of subpar villainess novels crushes you beneath their illogical weight. And of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, the last book to hit you in the face is titled, "The Villainess Who Tripped and Fell into her Own Grave—Oops!"

As the darkness closes in, your final thought is one of supreme exasperation: I cannot believe I’m being killed by the worst plotlines ever written. Death by plot twist. Too soon, yet not soon enough.

And then nothing. Just silence. Peace, finally.

You’d heard the phrase "no rest for the wicked," but honestly, who knew divine punishment was this over the top? Apparently, you'd racked up enough sins in your previous life to not only die under an avalanche of bad literature but to then be reincarnated into said literature. Because why not? The gods were clearly having a laugh.

When you open your eyes, you're not even phased. Nope. You don’t scream, cry, or panic. You just stare up at the overly ornate ceiling of what is clearly a mansion because, of course, the villainess is always absurdly rich. You're lying in an obnoxiously fluffy bed, and the first thing that pops into your mind is: Are you serious?

A quick glance in the mirror confirms it. There you are, standing in the overly frilly shoes of the villainess from the very same garbage novel that ended your life. Perfect. You take a deep breath, rub your temples (again), and give yourself a mental pep talk. "Okay, you’ve read this before, multiple times. You know the beats. You know the plot. You’ve got this."

Step one: don’t freak out. Because, really, this plot is bad enough without adding your personal panic to the mix. Step two: check the villainess's diary because, obviously, the previous inhabitant was stupid enough to leave all her secrets lying around like a teenager's unlocked Facebook account. Sure enough, you find it: a gloriously leather-bound journal detailing all the times plotted to impersonate the saintess. You roll your eyes. Not today, Satan.

You scan the pages, checking the timeline. You have a few months until the heroine rats you out, which means it’s time for step three: revenge. And no, you don’t mean the "oh, woe is me" type of revenge that makes you spiral into despair. You mean good old-fashioned pettiness, the kind that makes the heroine and the male lead’s lives miserable.

You can't help but snicker at the thought. It's karmic justice, really. They’re going to get a taste of the absolute horror you experienced reading their terrible, nonsensical love story. You spent hours proofreading their idiocy, now it's their turn.

You stand in front of the towering, ominous doors of Azul Ashengrotto’s office at Mostro Lounge, taking a deep breath before pushing them open. The dark, almost theatrical ambiance inside feels like a stage set for the devil himself to offer you a deal. But you’re no saintess—you’re the villainess of this story, and you’re here to strike a deal that’ll flip the entire script on its head.

Azul looks up from his desk, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your presence. “Ah, My Lady,” he greets smoothly, slipping into that charming, calculating smile of his. “What brings you to my humble establishment? Shouldn't you be busy pretending to be a saintess?"

You roll your eyes and take a seat without waiting for an invitation. "About that... I've decided to cancel my order for the magic stone."

Azul’s expression falters. “Cancel the order? But aren’t you the one planning to impersonate the saintess and secure your place in the royal court?”

You lean back in your chair, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, plans change. I’ve come to realize that there's a much better way to spend my time and resources—mainly, by humiliating the heroine and the prince for fun.”

Azul blinks at you, the corners of his lips twitching as if he’s not sure whether to laugh or be intrigued. “You... want to humiliate the heroine and the prince?”

You shrug, a gleam of mischief in your eyes. “Why not? They’re gonna be responsible for my end if I impersonate the saintess. I’ve already decided that instead of dying gracefully, I’m going to make their lives miserable. And that’s where you come in.”

Azul folds his hands on his desk, the smile growing on his face. “I see. And what exactly do you expect me to do?”

You pull out a blank cheque, sliding it across his desk. “Whatever you want. My family is wealthy, and my parents will gladly dance upside down on a chandelier if I asked them to. Write any amount you want, but you’re going to help me with my new plan.”

Azul’s eyes flicker with interest as he glances at the cheque. “And what exactly would that plan entail?”

“I want you to sabotage them,” you say simply. “The heroine, the prince—they’re going to suffer public humiliation. Every time they try to play the part of the perfect couple or flaunt their status as the so-called chosen ones, I want you to make sure they fail spectacularly. We’re going to tear apart their reputations piece by piece, and I need your expertise.”

Azul leans back in his chair, tapping a finger to his chin. “That sounds... intriguing. But I do believe I’ll need a bit more than just money to make this worth my time.”

“Name your price,” you reply coolly. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

Azul’s smile widens, but it’s sharp. “I’ll take a hefty sum, of course. Let’s say... one hundred thousand gold. But I’ll also require two wishes that I can cash in at any time.”

Your brow arches. “Two wishes? And what exactly do you plan to use them for?”

Azul’s smile turns positively devilish. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something. It could be anything—information, a favor, perhaps something more. Who knows? I just want to keep my options open.”

You weigh the deal for a moment, then nod. “Fine. Two wishes and one hundred thousand gold. But I want results, Azul. Don’t disappoint me.”

Before he can respond, the door behind you slams open with a bang, and Floyd Leech strolls in, grinning ear to ear like a shark who’s just spotted its next meal. “Heh, you’re funny, Shrimpy,” he says, eyeing you with amusement. “This whole ‘let’s humiliate the prince and his little heroine’ thing? I like it. I’ll help. I wanna see the look on their faces when they get wrecked.”

Azul sighs dramatically. “Floyd, this is a delicate matter. You can’t just go around—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Floyd cuts him off, draping himself across your chair like a lazy cat. “But c’mon, wouldn’t it be more fun if I helped? We can make it real painful for ’em. How 'bout it, Shrimpy?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Honestly? I wouldn’t mind having you on board, Floyd. Your brand of chaos could be exactly what I need to really make them squirm.”

Floyd grins wider, nudging you playfully. “Now we’re talkin’! See, Jade? Shrimpy’s got taste.”

You glance over to where Jade is standing, quietly watching the entire exchange with a serene smile. “I’m not surprised,” he says in his calm, unsettling way. “After all, our esteemed client clearly knows how to turn a situation in their favor. It’s rather... admirable.”

You shoot Jade a look. “Please don’t make that sound like an insult.”

Jade chuckles softly. “Not at all. I find your tactics fascinating. I’ll be quite interested to see how this all unfolds.”

Azul clears his throat, clearly ready to bring the conversation back on track. “Well, if that settles it, we have a deal. Two wishes and one hundred thousand gold. Floyd and Jade will assist you, and I’ll personally oversee the sabotage.”

You grin, satisfied. “Perfect. Let’s give those two a taste of what real humiliation feels like.”

Azul inclines his head. “Pleasure doing business with you, my dear client.”

As you get up to leave, Floyd playfully bumps your shoulder again. “Heh, I like you, Shrimpy. Let’s make sure that prince and his girl get what’s coming to ’em. It’ll be a real laugh.”

You smirk as you make your way out of the office. “Oh, trust me, Floyd. This is going to be spectacular.”

And with that, the stage was set. The heroine and her precious prince had no idea what was coming their way. But you did—and with the help of the mischievous trio from Mostro Lounge, you were going to enjoy every second of it.

The royal ballroom glistened with opulence as golden chandeliers hung above the vast marble floors, reflecting the lavishness of the night. The music was soft yet upbeat, a perfect backdrop for the event of the season. Nobles twirled gracefully around the room, engaged in light conversation as they eyed one another with thinly veiled curiosity. You stood at the entrance, the heavy doors creaking behind you as you took a deep breath.

The villainess in this world had been a little too subtle for her own good—dresses that were elegant but far too modest, more befitting of someone trying to sneak through the ranks as a saintess. But you? You had other ideas. You weren’t about to blend into the background. Oh no, tonight was all about making a splash.

The dress you wore was nothing short of a masterpiece. The neckline plunged just enough to be daring, the skirt flaring dramatically around your legs as you moved. The villainess had always had potential, you realized as you caught your reflection earlier that evening. With a little effort, she'd looked like a queen.

And apparently, that effort wasn’t lost on the crowd. Conversations stuttered to a stop as you walked in, eyes swiveling toward you like moths to a flame. A smirk tugged at your lips. Good. They could look all they wanted. Tonight, you were more than the villainess. You were a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, it didn’t take long for the male lead—Prince Arrogant-Entitled himself—to notice. He’d been chatting animatedly with the heroine, a sweet little thing dressed in pastels, who was practically bouncing on her feet with excitement.

But the moment you crossed the threshold, his gaze latched onto you like a leech, his conversation with the heroine cutting off mid-sentence as he abandoned her entirely. His eyes scanned you up and down with blatant appreciation, and you felt an unpleasant shiver crawl down your spine as he made his way toward you.

Sleazy little worm.

“My Lady,” he greeted you, standing too close for comfort. His voice dripped with what he likely assumed was charm. “You look ravishing tonight. I must say, your beauty is... overwhelming.”

You kept your expression neutral, though internally you gagged at his lackluster attempt at flirtation. The heroine, meanwhile, was glaring daggers from across the room. Not that it bothered you. Let her seethe.

You plastered on a fake smile, playing along for now. “Your Highness,” you replied, “I must say, your compliments are as subtle as ever.”

He laughed, his hand reaching out as if to brush your arm, but you sidestepped it gracefully. “You wound me, my lady,” he said, clearly trying to maintain the upper hand. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

You opened your mouth to deliver a polite but firm rejection, when suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tension with the smoothness of silk.

“Ah, apologies, Your Highness,” Azul’s voice was a breath of fresh air as he sidled up beside you, his arm slipping around your waist with practiced ease. “I’m afraid my date for the evening is already spoken for.”

The prince's face dropped, the smile frozen awkwardly as Azul’s words sunk in. You could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to process how exactly this turn of events had occurred. “Your... date?” he stammered, looking between you and Azul.

Azul just smiled, that infuriatingly calm smile of his. “Yes,” he said, his tone light and polite but dripping with a silent victory. “I do hope you understand, Your Highness. After all, it wouldn’t do to leave such a radiant lady waiting, would it?”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Azul's ability to swoop in at just the right moment with perfect timing was nothing short of impeccable.

The prince was visibly flustered, caught completely off-guard by the public rejection. The heroine, still watching from across the room, looked like she was about to combust on the spot. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and you could practically feel the heat of her glare boring holes into you.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you said, dipping into a mocking little curtsy. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

And with that, you took Azul’s arm and let him lead you away from the prince, who stood frozen in humiliation as the ballroom buzzed with whispers around him.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Azul turned to you with an amused grin. “You seemed to be having fun back there.”

“Oh, I was,” you replied, chuckling. “But not as much fun as I’m about to have dancing with you.”

Azul raised an eyebrow, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as the two of you began to sway to the music. “Careful now,” he teased. “If you keep up that flirting, I might just start blushing.”

You grinned, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I thought you were immune to such things. What happened to your infamous poker face?”

“Hmm, perhaps I underestimated your charms,” he mused, his voice lower now as he twirled you effortlessly around the dance floor. “You certainly know how to keep a man on his toes.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Is that so? Because I think you’re the one getting flustered, Azul.”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. You knew you had him.

But then, just when you thought you had the upper hand, Azul dipped you suddenly, causing a surprised squeak to escape your lips. He leaned over you, his face just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“Flustered, hmm?” he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet. “I think you may have that backward, my dearest client.”

You blinked up at him, momentarily caught off-guard by the intensity in his eyes. Damn it—he was good at this.

“Well played,” you muttered, feeling your own cheeks heating up now.

Azul chuckled softly, pulling you back up into his arms as the music continued to swell around you. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “We can call this round a draw.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “Fine. But don’t think this is over.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a wink.

You’re jolted awake by the sound of frantic knocking on your bedroom door, followed by your maids bursting in like the world was ending. “My Lady!” one of them squeals. “The mafia is breaking into the house!”

Now, any sane person would hear this and immediately take steps to flee, barricade themselves in, or at the very least, hide under the bed. But you? No. In your infinite wisdom, still half asleep and probably only functioning on half a brain cell, you bolt out of bed and head straight to the living room like you’re ready to take on a gang of mobsters in your nightgown. What was it that you always said about wanting more excitement in life?

You storm into the living room, ready to confront the so-called "mafia," only to be greeted by none other than Azul, Jade, and Floyd. Well, they weren’t exactly what you expected, but then again, the maids had screamed ‘mafia,’ and these three did dabble in... questionably legal activities.

Floyd's already poking through your vase of expensive flowers, looking completely at home, while Jade is smiling in that eerie way of his that makes it hard to tell if he’s genuinely amused or planning to harvest your organs.

“Good morning,” Azul greets you smoothly, like this is the most normal thing in the world. “Apologies for the intrusion, but we have urgent business to discuss.”

You stare at them for a long moment, your confusion building. “I didn’t make an appointment with you guys. Did you make an appointment with me?”

Jade’s eyes gleam with mischief. “No appointment, but we’ve come across some information we thought you’d be interested in.”

You cross your arms, already sensing the chaos about to unfold. “Go on…”

“Well,” Jade says, stepping forward with an innocent smile (which, of course, is anything but), “it seems the prince and his little heroine are planning to attend a charity event today to show off their ‘generosity.’”

Floyd pops up behind you, slinging an arm over your shoulder like you’re best friends. “Want to crash it?” he asks, grinning wildly, his sharp teeth flashing. “It’s bound to be fun. Who knows what kinda trouble we can stir up?”

Azul adjusts his glasses, looking thoughtful yet undeniably excited. “There could be some... interesting opportunities there,” he muses. “And I wouldn’t mind attending, purely for business reasons, of course.”

You blink at them. Charity event? Crashing? Making the prince and heroine’s lives miserable? Well, hell, why not? You did wake up to the mafia in your living room, after all. “Fine,” you say with a smirk, “let’s do it. Let’s crash this event and see how generous our dear prince really is.”

The four of you arrive at the event like a troupe of misfits dressed in their Sunday best. The venue is packed with people, all fawning over the prince and the heroine like they’re some divine beings sent down to bless the peasants. The heroine’s practically glowing as she bathes in their attention, her overly sweet voice echoing through the hall as she accepts praise for what is—let’s be real here—a laughably small donation, considering who they are.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. The prince and heroine are practically bathing in the affection of these poor, unsuspecting people. "Oh, how generous they are!" people cry. "Such saints, oh thank the heavens!"

Yeah, not today, airhead.

You nudge Azul. “Let’s show them how it’s really done.”

Azul, already ahead of you, strides confidently toward the stage. You follow, not missing a beat, and together, you announce—no, proclaim—that you will be tripling the total amount of donations for the event.

The reaction is immediate. Complete chaos erupts. The organizers start crying tears of joy, running up to you with such fervor that you have no choice but to stand there and accept their hugs and gratitude, despite your overwhelming desire to swat them away. Floyd, cackling like a hyena, is playfully lifting some of them off the ground in his bear-like hugs, while Jade just stands off to the side, watching the chaos unfold with a bemused smile, occasionally offering polite nods of acknowledgment.

The prince, who had been gloating only moments before, now looks like he’s been slapped in the face. His expression is priceless—shock, embarrassment, and barely concealed rage all battling for dominance. The heroine’s smile has dropped completely, replaced with a furious scowl as she watches the organizers fawn over you instead. Her fists are clenched at her sides, and you can see the very moment her fragile ego shatters. Oh, how delicious.

Amidst all the madness, you catch yourself actually smiling—not one of your usual smirks or devious grins, but a genuine, warm smile. As much as this was all meant to be a petty revenge plan, you can’t deny the satisfaction that comes from seeing these people so happy. It's almost... heartwarming.

Azul turns to you at that exact moment, his usually calm expression softening as he sees your smile. He blinks, clearly caught off-guard by how radiant you look. For a split second, he seems to lose his composure, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink.

“You’re smiling,” he says, his voice almost quiet. “It suits you.”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What, you’ve never seen me smile before?”

“Not like that,” Azul admits, his usual poise faltering as he looks down at you with something akin to awe. “It’s... different.”

Before you can respond, Floyd suddenly slides up between you, throwing an arm around both you and Azul with a grin. “Oho! Azul’s gettin’ all blushy on us, huh?” he teases, eyes glinting mischievously. “Careful, Shrimpy. You might actually be softening him up.”

Azul huffs, pushing Floyd away with a barely contained scowl. “You’re insufferable, Floyd.”

“Oh, come on, boss!” Floyd laughs, ruffling Azul’s hair before darting away to avoid his retaliation. “Just admit it, you’re totally into ‘em!”

Jade sidles up next to you, his ever-present smile in place. “Well, it seems things are progressing quite nicely,” he says, his tone light but teasing. “Perhaps we’ll see more of this warmth from you, hm? It’s quite refreshing.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh, shut up, both of you,” you say, though there’s no real malice in your words.

As the crowd around you finally begins to disperse, you feel a strange sense of contentment. Sure, you came here for revenge, but now? Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

Azul’s first wish. He could’ve asked for anything—power, prestige, wealth beyond imagination. But no, he wants to open a café. A legit café. Sure, his shady business would still run in the background, but this time, he wanted something wholesome, something real. And of course, he wants you to sponsor it, not just with money but with your influence—Queen of the Social World that you are after your fabulous ball stunt.

You’re intrigued, mostly because it’s Azul, but also because, well, it was a bit funny imagining him in a cute apron, serving cakes and coffee like some innocent café owner. But business was business, and you were all in.

The following weeks were spent in an intense whirlwind of planning with Azul, Floyd, and Jade. What started as you simply agreeing to fund Azul’s café spiraled into you helping them design the entire place, from choosing the colors of the tiles to picking out the cups, to menu planning. You found yourself oddly invested, not because Azul asked for your help, but because, strangely enough, you liked spending time with them.

Like tonight, for example. You were supposed to be working on the café’s logo, but instead…

“Stay still, Floyd,” you muttered as you carefully painted his nails. Floyd, surprisingly, wasn’t squirming, but he was giving Jade some ridiculous side-eye. “If you mess this up, I swear, I’ll let Jade poison you with the mushrooms.”

Jade chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Poison? Now that’s an interesting accusation. I thought we were discussing the edible variety.”

“Oh, don’t play innocent, Jade. I’ve read up on your particular interests,” you quipped, finishing off one of Floyd’s fingers and moving on to the next. “And besides, everyone knows you’re a master of both the edible and the... not-so-edible.”

Floyd, meanwhile, grinned at you. “Shrimpy! You know, you're real funny, you know that? I should make you my personal nail artist. You’re doing way better than Jade ever did!”

Jade gave Floyd a look, crossing his arms in mock offense. “Please, Floyd. My skills are exceptional, but you insist on ruining the results every time.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s because Floyd never sits still long enough for anything decent to happen. Isn’t that right?” You turned to Floyd, who was just nodding along like you’d given him the biggest compliment of the year.

Azul entered the room at that moment, looking slightly confused to find you painting Floyd’s nails. Without missing a beat, you reached out and tugged him over, all casual. “You’re next, Azul. Sit.”

He blinked at you, half surprised and half flustered by how natural this all felt. “I-I didn’t realize I’d signed up for this,” he stammered but still sat down beside you like he couldn’t refuse.

“You didn’t. But now you’re here, and you’ll be leaving with your nails looking fabulous,” you said with a grin. You took his hand, and despite how awkwardly he tried to keep his composure, you felt him relax under your touch.

“So, what were you discussing before I arrived?” Azul asked, glancing between you and Jade, who was still sitting nearby.

“Mushrooms,” Jade said with an oddly proud smile. “Our friend here is surprisingly knowledgeable about rare species. It’s rather refreshing to have such an... engaged conversation partner.”

“Well,” you said, dipping the nail brush back into the polish, “you’d be surprised what you can pick up after spending a considerable amount of time researching... various topics.”

“Of course,” Jade said, his smile just a little too knowing for your liking. But you didn’t take the bait, instead focusing on Azul’s hand, painting a particularly delicate pattern with precision.

As you finished Azul’s nails, Floyd suddenly launched himself at you, wrapping you in an unexpected squeeze. “Shrimpy! You’re my best friend now. Best. Friend.”

You barely had time to react as he practically crushed you, and you patted his back with a small laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment... Floyd. Now, could you maybe let me breathe?”

Azul, who had been watching the exchange with a soft look on his face, finally stepped in. “Floyd, don’t suffocate our sponsor, please.”

Floyd reluctantly let you go but stayed attached to your side like a loyal puppy. “But Shrimpy’s so soft and fun!”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving Floyd away. “Okay, okay. Back off, or you’ll mess up your nails.”

Jade chuckled again, his gaze softening as he watched the three of you. “I must say, I never thought we’d be having... a sleepover, of sorts.”

You laughed. “Neither did I, to be honest. But I don’t mind. It’s kind of fun, isn’t it? Relaxing, being able to just... exist.”

Azul glanced down at his newly painted nails, feeling the warmth of the room and the camaraderie between you all. “Yes,” he murmured softly, “it is.”

And for a brief moment, Azul found himself wishing that nights like these could last forever.

The sun was already low on the horizon as you made your way toward Mostro Lounge, your daily visits now a routine you couldn’t seem to avoid. It had become a comforting ritual: meeting Azul, Jade, and Floyd, where the lines between business and friendship blurred into late-night planning sessions. You had just started to hum softly to yourself when a figure stepped into your path, blocking your way.

You stopped short, frowning as you recognized the sleazy, arrogant smirk plastered on the Crown Prince's face. He was the last person you wanted to deal with today. Or ever.

“There you are,” the prince drawled, taking a step closer to you, his hand reaching for your arm. “I’ve been thinking about you. Why don’t you stop all this nonsense and reconsider me as a suitor, hmm? You know I can offer you far more than Azul ever could.”

You stiffened as his hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip tighter than necessary, and you glared up at him. “Let go of me,” you said through gritted teeth.

The prince’s expression darkened, and he yanked you closer with a cruel tug. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You should be grateful I’m even giving you the time of day—”

A loud, unmistakable voice interrupted. “Oi, you slimy bastard!” Floyd’s voice boomed from behind you, and the next thing you knew, the prince’s hand was wrenched off your wrist as Floyd grinned down at him with an unsettling amount of excitement in his eyes. “You wanna keep those fingers or should I snap ‘em off for ya?”

The prince recoiled, his confidence wavering as Floyd stepped between the two of you, looking unhinged and ready to throw down at any moment. “Do you have any idea who I am—”

Floyd just laughed, cracking his knuckles with a loud pop. “You really think I care? Touch Shrimpy again, and I’ll show you why it’s a bad idea.”

Just as the prince looked like he was going to say something, Jade appeared at your side, his presence cold and menacing. His polite smile only made the threat more ominous. “Your Highness, I believe my brother gave you a fair warning. I suggest you heed it unless you wish to experience... unpleasant consequences.”

The prince looked between the two brothers, weighing his options. Though his pride was clearly hurt, the danger in their eyes finally seemed to register. He took a step back, sneering at you. “This isn’t over.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jade said, his smile never faltering. “If you value your position and your life.”

With that, the prince turned on his heel and left, and it wasn’t until his retreating figure disappeared that you realized you were shaking. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made your knees weak, and your breath came out shakier than you wanted it to.

“Shrimpy, you okay?” Floyd’s voice was softer now, lacking its usual teasing tone. He turned to you, his expression shifting from anger to concern.

Jade, too, watched you carefully. “You’re trembling. Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to stop the quiver. Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Floyd first, burying your face in his chest. He stiffened for a second, surprised, before his arms enveloped you gently, as if unsure of how much pressure to apply.

“‘S okay, Shrimpy,” Floyd mumbled into your hair. “I gotcha.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling Jade’s comforting hand rest on your shoulder. When you pulled away from Floyd, Jade was there too, his smile uncharacteristically soft. You hugged him as well, and for a moment, all the tension seemed to melt away as the Leech brothers stood there, silently offering their comfort.

By the time you made it to Mostro Lounge, Azul was already waiting, his expression brightening when he saw you approach—until he noticed your pale face and the tight look of concern on both Floyd and Jade’s features.

“What happened?” Azul asked immediately, his voice sharper than usual.

You hesitated for a second, glancing toward the twins. But before you could answer, Floyd spoke up. “The damn prince tried to pull some shit with Shrimpy.”

Azul’s entire demeanor darkened, the air around him thickening with icy fury. “Is that so?” His voice was calm, too calm, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I see. Well, it seems our little game has taken a new turn.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “Azul?”

Azul turned to you, his stormy eyes locking with yours, and despite the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, he smiled—a smile that sent chills down your spine, but also made you feel... protected. “From this point on, your revenge is my revenge. I won’t allow that fool to get away with this.”

You could only nod as the weight of his words settled over you. What had started as a personal vendetta was now much larger. Azul had made it personal, and with his intelligence and the Leech brothers by your side, you had no doubt the prince would soon regret the day he ever laid a hand on you.

Azul reached out and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll make sure he never forgets this lesson.”

And with that, you knew—there was no going back now. It wasn’t just about your revenge anymore. You had a powerful ally who was more than willing to turn the tables. And for the first time since you’d been thrown into this chaotic world, you felt truly... safe.

It all started with a completely innocent plan.

Well, innocent in the way that any plan involving Jade and Floyd Leech could be. You were sitting in Azul's office, sipping tea, when Floyd flopped onto the sofa like a bored toddler who’d been forced to sit through an economics lecture.

"Ugh, I’m bored,” he groaned, throwing an arm dramatically over his face. “Let’s go mess with someone. Like, now.”

Azul, across from you, pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have work to do, Floyd. You can’t just—"

“I wanna mess with someone," Floyd whined, cutting him off, “and you know who’s real fun to squish? That princessy little heroine.”

Your ears perked up. Oh no. No, no. This was bad.

But also tempting.

Azul gave you a side-eye like he already knew you were considering the chaos. “We’re not doing this,” he said firmly, like he was talking to two feral cats he had to babysit.

Jade, standing ever-so-politely by the door with his signature smile, chimed in. “I must say, brother, it does sound like a rather… entertaining idea.” His eyes glinted in that creepy way that made you unsure if he was plotting your doom or just mentally filing away a new tea recipe involving venomous plants.

“YESSS!” Floyd shot up from the couch, his mood doing a complete 180. “Let’s go squish her, let’s go squish—"

“No,” Azul snapped, sending you a warning look. “Don’t encourage this.”

You, of course, ignored the warning look entirely. “I mean… it's not the worst idea in the world.” You gave a dramatic sigh. “Someone has to put her in her place.”

Azul’s eye twitched. “We had a plan—”

“And now we have fun,” you interrupted, standing up and straightening your jacket like you were about to lead an army into battle. “Come on, Azul. When was the last time we had fun?”

Azul opened his mouth to retort, but Floyd was already bouncing around the room like a hyperactive puppy. “Ooooh, we’re gonna have fun, we’re gonna have fun!”

Jade, always the picture of composure, smiled serenely. “Shall I prepare the necessary… ingredients?”

Azul looked like he was about to pass out from sheer exasperation. “What ingredients?!”

But it was too late. The twins were already in full scheming mode, and you were all-in.

Twenty minutes later, you were sneaking—well, you were sneaking. Jade was strolling casually, and Floyd was giggling—through the palace gardens where the heroine had set up her usual tea party, surrounded by noble ladies with IQs lower than the calorie count of their diet biscuits.

The plan was simple: make her life miserable. The execution, however, was where it got beautifully wacky.

Floyd had brought a lot of frogs. (Don’t ask where he got them.)

The heroine was sitting, blissfully unaware, serving tea and playing the perfect little princess as usual. You felt your eye twitch just looking at her.

“Eww,” Floyd whispered beside you, wrinkling his nose. “She’s got that gross fake smile on again. Makes me wanna squish her even more.”

“Patience, Floyd,” Jade murmured, handing him a cup of “tea”—which was, in reality, some concoction Jade had brewed that you suspected involved swamp water. “We mustn't rush.”

Azul, standing beside you, was facepalming so hard you were surprised his glasses didn’t snap in two. “This is a disaster.”

You grinned. “No, this is a masterpiece.”

Just as the heroine raised her cup to sip her tea, Floyd, who was clearly too impatient to wait for subtlety, threw three frogs straight at the tea table.

SPLAT!

Chaos. Utter chaos. The noble ladies screamed, cups and saucers flew, and the heroine herself jumped back like the frogs were molten lava. Her chair tipped, and she fell—right into the flowerbed, splashing herself with tea and dirt.

Jade clapped politely, ever the gentleman. “Bravo, Floyd. That was an excellent throw.”

The heroine scrambled to her feet, gasping and red-faced, frantically brushing dirt and tea from her dress. “Wh-what—how dare—"

“Oh nooooo,” Floyd said, dramatically clasping his hands to his cheeks. “It looks like you fell! So clumsy! And right before your party too. That’s soooo embarrassing~!”

Azul turned to you with a look that screamed I told you this was a bad idea.

You, however, were practically glowing. “This is the best day of my life.”

“I-I’ll have you all arrested!” the heroine spluttered, her hair falling in disarray as she glared daggers at you and the Leech twins.

“Oh?” you said sweetly, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. “For what? Frogs? You think we command amphibians, your grace? You’re so flattering.”

Azul cleared his throat, stepping in with his best diplomatic smile. “Now, now, let’s not escalate this. It was clearly an unfortunate mishap, and I’m sure you’ll be able to recover… in time.”

The heroine narrowed her eyes at him, her cheeks burning in humiliation. “You think this is funny, don’t you?!”

Floyd leaned over Azul’s shoulder, grinning like a shark. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Before she could retort, Jade suddenly stepped forward, his usual calm smile widening just a bit too much. “Perhaps it would be wise to retreat and freshen up, Miss. After all, one mustn’t linger in such… messy conditions.”

She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then—seeing the eyes of all the other noble ladies on her, their whispers starting to spread—she whirled around, storming off with a huff.

As soon as she was out of sight, you and Floyd doubled over, laughing like lunatics.

Azul, pinching the bridge of his nose again, shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m associated with any of you.”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” you managed to say through giggles, wiping a tear from your eye. “This was gold!”

“I still think we should’ve used the snakes,” Floyd added, totally serious.

Jade, always the perfectionist, just gave a little hum. “Next time, perhaps.”

Azul sighed deeply, already regretting every life choice that led him to this moment. “I need a vacation.”

You clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Azul. Admit it. You had fun.”

He glanced at you, his lips twitching slightly as if he was fighting a smile. “…Perhaps.”

And with that, the four of you left the wreckage of the tea party behind, victorious and full of glee. The heroine would be recovering from this disaster for weeks.

Sometimes, revenge really was a dish best served with frogs.

The evening was quiet as you and Azul strolled through the town, the air filled with the subtle hum of night creatures, the scent of blooming flowers mixing with the cool night breeze. It was peaceful. Too peaceful, perhaps, as you noticed Azul shifting nervously beside you.

"Are you alright?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, watching as he straightened his posture a little too quickly. He was trying to play it cool, but you could tell that there was something bothering him.

"Of course," he replied with an air of forced calm. "Just enjoying the evening, that's all."

You nodded, though his tenseness made you smile internally. Here was Azul, calm and collected under all circumstances—except in moments like these, where even the tiniest of things could throw him off. It was charming, really.

And then, out of nowhere, a loud rustling erupted from the nearby bushes. Before you could react, Azul let out a strangled, startled yelp, practically leaping into your arms in an impressive feat of acrobatics you hadn’t quite expected. You blinked down at him, his arms clinging tightly to your shoulders as he cowered against you.

“W-what was that?!” he stammered, clearly shaken, his eyes darting around like a nervous prey animal.

You craned your neck to see what had caused the commotion, only to spot… a particularly fat raccoon waddling out of the bushes. The creature glanced at you lazily, munched on a discarded piece of bread, and then ambled away into the night.

“Azul,” you began slowly, “it’s just a raccoon.”

Azul, looking rather pale, cleared his throat and tried to regain his dignity, though he was still very much in your arms. "I-I see… It merely startled me, that’s all."

For a moment, you considered putting him down, but then you looked at him—his wide, flustered eyes, his pink-tinged cheeks—and decided, "Nope." With a little shift, you adjusted his weight in your arms and started walking again, as if carrying the mafia boss-turned-café-owner like a blushing bride was the most normal thing in the world.

Azul blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying you," you said simply.

"But—"

"No ‘buts.’ Just relax," you said cheerfully, striding forward. Azul's face went from mildly shocked to utterly dumbfounded as you continued to carry him through the quiet town square like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Honestly, you’re pretty light,” you teased, trying to hold back a grin. “I should carry you more often.”

Azul cleared his throat, his face a deep crimson now, but you didn’t miss the way his arms stayed looped around your shoulders. His voice was a little quieter when he finally spoke again. “Well, if you insist…”

You chuckled, enjoying his rare moment of vulnerability. As much as he liked to keep his composed businessman mask, Azul clearly wasn’t immune to your charm. You could see it in the way he leaned a little closer, and for a moment, the teasing gave way to something softer, something a little more real.

When you finally set him down after several streets of wandering, Azul adjusted his glasses, his composure returning. But then he turned to you, an odd glint in his eye. “You know… I’ve been thinking. About a way to get back at the prince.”

Your eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. “Oh? Do tell.”

He folded his arms behind his back, looking as though he was trying to frame this in a way that didn’t reveal too much. “It’s quite simple, really. A business arrangement. A… fake engagement.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. He cleared his throat and continued. “If we pretend to be engaged, it would irritate the prince, perhaps even force him into a rash decision. It would also be good for my public image. And, of course, you would gain the satisfaction of seeing him completely humiliated.”

You stared at him for a moment, then smirked. “Azul… do you want to date me?”

He choked on absolutely nothing, sputtering, “W-what— I— that’s not what I said—”

You rolled your eyes, amused by how he was floundering. “It’s fine, Azul. I get it. You want to date me. You don’t have to frame it like a business deal.”

Azul blinked rapidly, caught between mortification and something else—something that looked like hope. “Well, that’s… I mean…”

“And if you really want to make it official,” you continued with a grin, “why don’t we just make the engagement real?”

Azul’s flustered expression softened into something utterly pleased. For a moment, he stood there, barely containing the wide smile that threatened to break free. “You… You’d really consider that?”

“I think it would be fun,” you said with a wink. “Plus, it’ll definitely piss off the prince.”

Azul finally allowed himself to smile—a genuine, relieved smile that made your heart skip a beat. ��In that case… I would be honored.”

The next morning, you decided to really turn things up a notch. You knew the prince and the heroine were planning to spend their day parading around the town square, fishing for compliments and praise. So, naturally, you decided to plan your very public proposal right in the middle of their little event.

You stood with Azul in the town square, both of you perfectly dressed for the occasion. The crowd gathered, waiting for the prince’s grand appearance, but before he could make his big entrance, you stole the spotlight. Grabbing Azul’s hand, you dragged him to the center of the square, and with a dramatic flourish, you dropped to one knee.

“Azul Ashengrotto,” you began, projecting your voice loud enough for the entire square to hear, “will you do me the honor of becoming my fiancé?”

The crowd gasped, murmurs rippling through the commoners. The prince, who had just appeared with the heroine on his arm, looked absolutely dumbfounded, while the heroine herself looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.

Azul, ever the dramatic actor, placed a hand over his heart as if he was deeply moved. “Of course!” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It would be my greatest honor.”

The crowd erupted into applause as you slipped a ring onto his finger, and Azul pretended to wipe away a tear, leaning in to whisper, “You know, I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

You grinned up at him, whispering back, “Well, you’re the one who wanted to fake it. Might as well make it memorable.”

Azul let out a small laugh, then looked at you with something softer in his eyes. “I have to admit… this isn’t so bad.”

And for the first time since this whole revenge plot began, you found yourself feeling… happy. Not just because you’d embarrassed the prince and heroine, though that certainly was satisfying. But because standing here, with Azul by your side, it felt like maybe, just maybe, this arrangement could be more than just a scheme.

Azul sniffled dramatically, playing up the moment for all it was worth, but you saw the genuine affection in his eyes. And as the crowd continued to cheer and applaud, you couldn’t help but smile, truly and honestly happy for once—happy just to exist here with Azul, your hand firmly in his.

Tea parties were the bane of your existence. Seriously, you’d rather file taxes for a hundred years or listen to the prince’s self-praising monologues on loop than sit at one more dainty little table surrounded by frills and forced giggles. But, here you were, once again trapped in the depths of social hell, smiling so hard your face muscles were cramping.

“Isn’t this just delightful?” one of the duchesses chirped, her laugh tinkling like a bell forged from your nightmares. You could practically hear your soul dying.

You plastered on a fake smile. “Absolutely. A dream come true.”

Across the table, the heroine herself—Miss Sunshine and Butterflies—fluttered around like she was hosting the fanciest gala of the year. You bit back a groan as she served tea to everyone, her stupidly sweet smile never faltering. But there was a gleam in her eye, something almost off about the way she was handing out those cups.

You squinted. Was it just you, or did her eyes always look like that? Beady little things, like a snake pretending to be a fluffy bunny. Ugh, maybe it was just her entire vibe that set you off. You wouldn’t be surprised if she threw in a few spiteful herbs just to ruin your day further.

“Here you go!” she chirped, placing a cup of Rosehip in front of you. Her eyes gleamed again.

Okay, weird.

Before you could think too hard about it, Azul’s hand slid across the table. With a smooth, practiced movement, he swapped your cup with his, like this was a perfectly normal thing to do.

You blinked at him, raising a brow. “What? Did you want rosehip that badly?”

Azul smiled, giving you a soft shrug. “I’ve always been partial to it.”

That was… well, typical Azul. You shrugged it off. Maybe he just wanted to get a taste of a different blend, and it wasn’t like you were going to argue over tea.

And then he took a sip.

And immediately coughed up blood.

"Azul?!" you shrieked, eyes widening as he doubled over, clutching his throat. The teacup slipped from his hand and shattered against the table. Panic shot through your chest like a dagger.

"Oh my god, Azul!" you were up and out of your chair faster than you’d ever moved in your life, diving next to him on the floor as his coughing turned wet and ragged. Blood splattered onto the pristine tablecloth, and all you could hear was your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “No, no, no, NO, this is NOT happening!”

Azul’s face was turning ashen, his breathing shallow, and you were completely losing it.

“What the hell was in that tea?!” You turned, glaring murderously at the heroine, who just stood there, wide-eyed and shocked. Your hands trembled as you pulled Azul closer, cradling his head against your lap like he was going to die any second.

“Stay with me, dammit! Don’t you DARE leave me like this!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face. “We haven’t even finished the damn revenge plot, you idiot! I-I didn’t even get to tell you I like you!”

Healers finally came rushing in, but by then you were an absolute mess—full-on ugly crying, gripping Azul’s shirt so hard your knuckles turned white. You were inconsolable, practically wailing like the world was ending because, to you, it really felt like it was.

“P-please, I’ll do anything! Just don’t die, okay?! You can have my soul, my fortune, my entire wardrobe, I don’t care! I’ll even stop plotting revenge, just don’t—don’t—” you hiccupped through sobs, nearly incoherent at this point.

Somehow, through your hysterical bargaining with the universe, the healers managed to stabilize Azul. His breathing evened out, the blood stopped flowing, and you could hear them saying something about the poison wearing off. But all you could do was sit there, holding him as the storm of emotions tore through you like a hurricane.

It felt like an eternity before he was finally awake and stable, sitting up in bed after what felt like the longest, most agonizing night of your life. And when you saw him there, looking far too smug for someone who had just almost died, you snapped.

“What the hell was that?!” You stormed into the room, furious tears still clinging to your lashes. “What in the name of all that’s holy possessed you to drink that?!”

Azul blinked at you, clearly not expecting the outburst. “I didn’t want you to get hurt—”

“I DON’T CARE!” you shrieked, pacing around like a madwoman. “You almost died! Do you have any idea what that did to me?!”

Azul opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, throwing your hands up. “The deal’s off, Azul! I’m done! No more revenge, no more schemes, I don’t want to be a part of this if you’re gonna be coughing up blood and nearly dying on me!”

You were about two seconds away from spiraling into another sobfest when suddenly, Azul grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him. Before you could even protest, his lips crashed onto yours, shutting you up immediately.

You blue screened.

For a solid five seconds, all you could think was: Oh, he’s kissing me. And then, Wait, he's kissing me!

He pulled back, looking exasperated and amused all at once. “Will you calm down?” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to see this through. For you.”

You blinked, completely thrown off. “But… why?”

“Because,” he smirked, “you’re not the only one with a vendetta. And, well,” his eyes softened a little, “because I care about you.”

Your heart stuttered, and you stared at him, still not quite over the kiss. “You what?”

Azul chuckled, clearly enjoying the rare sight of you being completely speechless. “Sounds like you care about me too,” he teased. “Or did I hallucinate you confessing your undying love while I was poisoned?”

Your face flushed red, and you crossed your arms defensively. “I wasn’t confessing my undying love, I was panicking, okay? But, yeah. Fine. I like you. I was gonna tell you sooner, but then you had to go and die on me.”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t die.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “You almost did.”

He laughed, and you swore your heart did a little flip. “Well, now that we’ve cleared that up…” he leaned closer again, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What do you say we continue this revenge plot? With less near-death experiences, of course.”

You eyed him warily. “Only if you promise to never pull that shit again.”

Azul chuckled and gave you a playful, solemn look. “I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was still pounding as you leaned in, pulling him into another kiss. And this time, there was no poison, no tears, no panic—just the two of you, finally on the same page for once.

And maybe, just maybe, you could pull off this revenge scheme and come out of it with something even better.

It was a party meant for the elite of the kingdom—everyone who considered themselves someone was present. Glistening chandeliers, extravagant gowns, and enough fake smiles to power an entire city. But all you could focus on was the prince—who was pretending not to undress you with his eyes from across the ballroom—and the heroine, fluttering about with her fake miracles and equally fake modesty.

You stood by Azul, nursing a glass of wine and feeling like your patience was thinner than ever. But tonight was the night. The two of you had been planning this for weeks. Everything was in place, and the heroine and the prince were about to get the public humiliation they so richly deserved. The prince, with his wandering hands and slimy charm, had made it no secret he was obsessed with you, the villainess. And the heroine? A conniving fraud with no real powers, just cheap tricks and affairs with every married noble she could get her hands on. They were perfect for each other.

Azul adjusted his glasses, his smirk subtle but telling. “Are you ready?”

You glanced at him, a wicked grin spreading across your face. “Born ready.”

The two of you exchanged a nod, and as Azul sauntered toward the prince’s little circle of sycophants, you made your way toward the heroine, who was doing her best impression of a saintly flower surrounded by admirers. The second you reached her, she turned to you with that fake smile, the kind that said I wish I could set you on fire, but I’ll settle for pretending to like you.

“Ah, it’s so good to see you,” she cooed, her eyes scanning you for a flaw to latch onto.

You gave her a saccharine smile, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Likewise. I couldn’t help but overhear your little chat about your latest miracle—what was it this time? Turning water into wine?”

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh, nothing so grand. Just helping a few people in need, as always.”

“Helping?” you raised an eyebrow. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall several of those ‘people in need’ being married men. Some of them not exactly in need of healing, but more… in need of a different kind of attention.”

Gasps erupted around you. The heroine’s face turned a rather satisfying shade of white.

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” she stammered, her composure cracking.

“Oh, I’m not implying anything,” you said, voice turning sharp as a blade. “I’m flat-out saying it. You’ve been using your so-called ‘holy powers’ as a cover while having affairs with multiple married men. That’s not even the worst of it, though, is it? Let’s talk about your miracles—or should I say, your alchemy tricks.”

More gasps. Nobles all around were now staring, whispers spreading like wildfire. And as for the heroine? She looked like she was about to faint.

“You—you’re lying!” she screeched, eyes wide with desperation.

“Oh, am I?” You pulled out a letter, one of many you and Azul had collected. “Because this says otherwise. A love letter to Lord Ainsworth, a very married man, detailing your... special ‘healing sessions.’” You fluttered the letter in front of her face, then loudly cleared your throat, reading aloud, “Your touch is divine, and I felt so... blessed after our long night together. Honestly, your vocabulary could use some work. Not exactly poetic, is it?”

The heroine was trembling now, and the crowd around you was in stunned silence. But you weren’t done. Oh no. You turned to where Azul was confronting the prince. Perfect timing.

Azul was speaking smoothly, voice calm but lethal. “And speaking of deception, Your Highness, should we address your... exemplary battlefield skills? I’ve heard rumors that when the kingdom needed you most, you deserted the warfront. Ran off with a servant girl while your men perished. Am I wrong?”

The prince, who had been sneering at you from afar, suddenly looked as though he’d been slapped. “That’s preposterous!”

“Oh?” Azul’s smirk deepened. “So, you didn’t flee like a coward and abandon your post? Perhaps we should ask your former comrades. Oh wait, we can’t—they’re dead.”

Gasps turned into outright murmurs now, the room swirling with scandal. The prince, visibly sweating, attempted to regain control. “I don’t have to listen to this nonsense! Guards! Arrest these—”

You cut him off with a laugh, stepping forward. “Oh, and before you get all high and mighty, let’s not forget your little... habit of harassing women at court. Everyone’s heard about it, but no one’s had the guts to say it out loud. You have no idea how many complaints have been buried by your influence.”

The prince’s face turned purple. He looked like a fish flopping on dry land, desperate to escape. The nobles around him, previously loyal lapdogs, were now backing away, muttering to each other in disbelief.

The heroine finally broke, shrieking like a banshee. “You can’t do this to us! You’ll regret this!”

You turned to her with a smile that could only be described as gleeful. “I already do, dear. Trust me, being in the same room with you is enough regret for a lifetime.”

And with that, Azul snapped his fingers, signaling the beginning of your grand exit.

In the chaos that followed—nobles yelling, the prince and the heroine in absolute shambles—Floyd, with a cackle, grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “Time to go, Shrimpy!”

“What is it with you and throwing me over your shoulder?!” you hollered, flailing. But you were laughing, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Meanwhile, Jade was quick to hoist Azul over his shoulder, ignoring Azul’s indignant protests. “I am fully capable of walking, Jade!”

Jade chuckled. “But this is faster.”

With that, the four of you barreled out of the ballroom, tearing through the palace halls like children who’d just pulled the most epic prank of their lives. You could hear the sounds of guards scrambling, but none of them seemed to have the nerve to chase after you. After all, exposing the kingdom’s so-called saviors was no small feat.

“Where are we even going?!” you laughed, gripping onto Floyd’s jacket as he sprinted full speed, not slowing down for a second.

“Anywhere that isn’t here, duh!” Floyd cackled, clearly having the time of his life.

After a few more turns, you finally found a secluded garden, well away from the palace guards, and Floyd unceremoniously dropped you onto the ground. Jade did the same to Azul, though with a bit more care.

You took a moment to catch your breath, still riding high from the adrenaline of it all. Azul straightened his coat, still clearly annoyed by the shoulder-ride but too composed to say much about it.

“Well, that was fun,” you said, leaning back against the garden wall. “So, what now? Are we fugitives yet?”

Azul, now looking much more composed, adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “There’s still the matter of my wish. You promised me one, remember?”

You blinked. “Oh, right. What do you want?”

Azul hesitated, then fixed you with a look that was surprisingly serious. “Come with me to the Coral Sea.”

You stared at him. “What, like... right now?”

Azul’s eyes flickered with something like doubt. “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, no, I’m in,” you interrupted, grinning. “Let’s go right now before we get arrested or something.”

Azul blinked, clearly not expecting you to agree so readily. “You… you’re serious?”

You shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be? This place is a nightmare. You know what sounds fun? Underwater adventures. Coral Sea? Sign me up. Let’s get out of here before they send a search party.”

Floyd laughed loudly, throwing an arm around you. “I like this plan! Let’s see how Shrimpy handles the ocean!”

Jade chuckled, his smile as sharp as ever. “It seems we have an impromptu vacation ahead of us.”

Azul, still looking somewhat stunned, finally smiled—though it was a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Very well. Let’s go, then. The Coral Sea awaits.”

The Coral Sea was nothing like you expected, but everything you needed. You’d relocated your café to this underwater haven, a place filled with bioluminescent reefs, shimmering schools of fish, and an air of quiet magic. Running a café under the sea was a wild dream, but somehow, you and Azul had made it happen. Every day felt like an adventure, with Floyd and Jade always testing your patience—and taste buds—with their questionable yet inventive cooking.

Today was no different.

You stood at the counter of your café, watching with a mix of amusement and mild horror as Floyd dumped a strange, glowing ingredient into a bubbling pot. Jade stood next to him, calmly adding delicate pinches of spices that, according to him, would “bring out the flavor.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So, what exactly are you making today? Because last time, I’m pretty sure I saw sparks coming out of the dish.”

“Don’t worry, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, giving the pot an enthusiastic stir. “This one won’t explode! Probably.”

Jade smirked, clearly enjoying your wariness. “It’s a new dish we’ve been perfecting—Sea Serpent Stew. I think you’ll find it... quite unique.”

You blinked. “Sea Serpent… what now?”

Floyd cackled. “Relax, it’s just a name! No actual sea serpents in it. Mostly.”

With a resigned sigh, you accepted the bowl they handed you and stared down at the glowing, swirling contents. It looked like something out of a mad alchemist’s lab. But hey, you’d survived worse—like being kidnapped by Floyd. This was nothing.

Bracing yourself, you took a cautious sip.

It wasn’t… terrible. Actually, it was kind of delicious. Spicy, with an oddly sweet aftertaste that lingered in a pleasant way. You blinked in surprise, then took another spoonful.

“Well, damn,” you said, looking at the two eels with newfound respect. “This is actually good. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we could add this to the menu.”

Floyd pumped a fist into the air. “Yesss! Told ya we nailed it!”

Jade chuckled, looking pleased but less outwardly excited. “I’m glad it meets your standards.”

You grinned at them both. “I mean, if people don’t mind glowing food, we’re set. Let’s call it ‘Mystic Stew’ or something. I’ll work on the branding.”

After a few more rounds of tasting, tweaking, and banter, the day finally wound down. The café’s lanterns dimmed, casting the place in a soft, cozy glow, and you could hear the gentle hum of the ocean outside. Floyd and Jade headed out to “hunt for more ingredients”—which you suspected was code for causing chaos somewhere else—leaving you alone to close up with Azul.

You locked the doors, the quiet settling in as Azul finished counting the day’s earnings. He glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Another successful day.”

“Yup. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we’re actually doing well here,” you mused, walking over to him. The quiet moments like this were becoming your favorite—just the two of you, after the bustle of the day, with nothing but the serene ocean around you.

Azul chuckled, slipping his arms around your waist as you leaned into him. “You doubted our business?”

“Never doubted the business,” you teased. “But the Coral Sea? Yeah, I wasn’t sure about moving here. But now... I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his touch warm and familiar. “I’m glad. This place... it’s different from anything I could have imagined, but with you here, it feels like home.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I never thought a stupid order for a magic rock would lead to this, but here we are. You and me, running a café under the sea. Who knew?”

Azul chuckled, pulling you closer. “That magic rock was the start of everything, wasn’t it? ”

You looked up at him, feeling your chest tighten with affection. “Yeah, funny how life works. I thought I was signing up for a revenge plot, and instead, I got... well, you.”

Azul’s gaze softened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything—the journey, the chaos, the unplanned twists—hung in the air between you, warm and comforting.

“I love you, you know that?” you said, the words slipping out with ease now, no hesitation.

Azul smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “And I love you. More than I thought possible.”

You tilted your head, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now. No refunds, no returns.”

He laughed, a rare, genuine sound that made your heart swell. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that, you pulled him into a kiss, soft and lingering, with the ocean as your only witness. This—right here—was everything. The café, the Coral Sea, and Azul by your side. It might have started with a plot for petty revenge, but it had turned into something much deeper, much more real.

And as you stood there in his arms, the world felt right. You had found your place. Together.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Okay! Kalim and Leona are next! (Whichever I finish editing first) Who would y'all like to see after that?

[izanacore]

tokyo Revengers ran haitani - reader is also a bonten exec but they both hate each other until one saves the other and then they hit it off - fluff angst smut anything you’d prefer

“salvatore” | ran haitani x reader

mini-collection 𓂃⋆.˚

ticket #002

synopsis: forced to take the place of the yakuza couple she killed. y/n, a bonten executive, is stuck playing the perfect wife—with ran haitani, of all people. they can barely stand each other, yet as the lines blur between duty, they realize the real problem isn’t keeping up the illusion—it’s that it might not be an illusion at all.

characters: ran haitani, fem!reader, haruchiyo sanzu, manjiro “mikey” sano, hajime kokonoi

warnings: explicit content, enemies to lovers, smut (18+) with plot, mild angst, violence, blood, gunfights, assassination, fake marriage, sexual tension, near-death experience, strong language, yakuza politics

notes: bonten timeline! anon, i’m sorry if i went overboard with this one. i just love the concept, ok?? or maybe it’s just ran haitani? idk! <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

part 1

ran and y/n were on a mission. but if you saw them right now, you’d think otherwise—pressed against the wall in a dark alley, lips locked in a heated kiss, bodies grinding together. ran’s hands roamed her body, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

y/n grunted, shoving him back.

“tsk. do you think i want this?” ran whispered, irritation lacing his voice.

“will you fucking slow down?” she snapped. “i don’t want your filthy marks on me.”

ran just smirked, biting his lip. “why not? makes it more convincing, don’t you think?”

y/n rolled her eyes. ran haitani. the person she despised most in bonten. and yet, here she was, stuck playing his lover.

of all the people mikey could’ve paired her with—kakucho, rindou, literally anyone else—hell, she would even take sanzu, but he just had to stick her with him.

“you two need to work this out. your personal hatred for each other is ruining bonten,” mikey said, tone sharp and final.

y/n scoffed, pushing back her chair as she shot to her feet. “there is no way in hell i’m doing this with him—”

mikey’s sharp gaze cut her off instantly. with a clenched jaw, she sank back into her seat.

“you can count on us, boss. right, y/n?” ran drawled from beside her, casually draping an arm over her shoulder.

she shoved it off without hesitation, standing up once more—this time to leave.

sanzu’s amused chuckle echoed in the room. “women…”

ran didn’t hesitate before following her out. “y/n!”

“just leave me alone, ran.” she didn’t stop, heading straight for her room. sharing a penthouse with the bonten executives was already suffocating—having to deal with him on top of it was unbearable.

but before she could slam the door shut, ran caught it, pushing his way inside.

y/n turned to him, her expression cold. “if this is just a joke to you, then don’t drag me into it.” her voice was quieter now, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it. “i already messed up the last mission. i don’t need mikey thinking i’m useless too.”

being the only woman in bonten meant y/n had to fight twice as hard to prove herself. she had no choice—this was the only life she had left.

bonten had saved her father once, covering up his crimes when he was drowning in debt. but y/n never knew what he was involved in, not until he died as one of bonten’s men. at first, she blamed them, convinced they had taken him from her. in her rage, she almost killed sanzu that night.

but mikey saw something in her. the way she handled a gun, the way she fought. her father had trained her to survive, and mikey decided her talent can’t go to waste. now, she was loyal to him.

but none of that mattered after what she did.

it was supposed to be a simple job—steal the key hidden in the necklace of a woman. that key led to a vault full of gold that once belonged to bonten. what y/n didn’t know was that the people she killed that night weren’t just some faceless targets. they were the yakuza couple—ghosts of the underworld. their identities were so well-guarded that not even their own members had ever laid eyes on them. no one had ever seen their faces, heard their real voices. all people knew was their power.

when rumors spread that the couple had been murdered, their guards locked down the mansion, believing their leaders were still alive. the only proof of identity? the key—and the woman wearing it.

y/n.

she had no choice but to step into the wife’s role. play the part, convince everyone. and to make it worse? she had to do it with ran haitani.

mikey had assigned him to the mission. retrieve the gold. maintain the illusion. avoid an all-out war between bonten and the yakuza faction that still swore loyalty to their “alive” leaders.

their world was a stage, and they played their roles flawlessly. the infamous yakuza couple—madly in love, reckless, shameless, untouchable. their obsession with each other was well-known, a twisted love story whispered in fear.

which meant one thing: ran and y/n had to act just as obsessed. public displays of affection, touching, teasing, pushing boundaries. and when people were watching? they had to make it look real.

so here they were, tangled in each other, hands wandering, lips bruising, lost in a kiss that was too heated for a back alley. too believable.

“uh, boss… i think we need to get out of here now,” one of the bodyguards muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

ran slowly turned his head, eyes dark and sharp.

the poor guy swallowed hard, stepping back.

then, just like that, ran’s expression shifted—a lazy, mocking grin curling on his lips. “you all know damn well how my wife gets when she isn’t satisfied.” his voice was smooth, but the threat was unmistakable. “so be good little guards and learn how to shut the fuck up.”

“y-yes, boss.”

ran turned back to y/n, eyes gleaming with amusement. “now, where were we, my beautiful wife?”

y/n’s glare could burn through steel. “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“mmm,” ran hummed against her skin, trailing open-mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder. “just love getting under your skin.”

y/n slid her arms around his neck, but this time, her grip was tight—just enough force to make him tense. she yanked him closer, enough to make him grunt, enough to feel the way his muscles twitched under her touch.

then she leaned in, voice dripping with fake sweetness. “enough is enough, my love. i’m very satisfied already. shall we continue this at home? wouldn’t want our guards to get an even better view when they see me getting railed by you.”

her voice was loud enough for the bodyguards to hear. loud enough to make them stiffen in place.

ran exhaled sharply, amusement flickering in his gaze. then he chuckled, low and entertained. “as you wish, baby.”

when they finally arrived at the yakuza couple’s mansion, they wasted no time settling into the master bedroom. y/n sat on the edge of the table, legs crossed, while ran loomed over her, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“so, what’s the plan, mrs. haitani?” ran drawled.

y/n scoffed. “fuck off.”

as she shifted slightly, the high slit of her dress parted, exposing more of her thighs. ran’s gaze flickered downward. he wasn’t blind—he was still a man, and y/n was undeniably attractive. and if there was one thing better than a beautiful woman, it was a beautiful woman who hated his guts. ruining her would be fun.

ran didn’t actually hate y/n. but god, she made it easy to annoy her.

she was obsessed with proving herself, like bonten would crumble if she let up for even a second. but she already had mikey’s trust, sanzu’s respect—hell, even kakucho acknowledged her skills.

so what was she still fighting for?

maybe that’s why ran loved messing with her. beneath all that pride and obsession with proving herself, she was just as reckless and unhinged as the rest of them—she just refused to admit it.

“why don’t we pick up where we left off?” ran mused, leaning in, his lips dangerously close to hers.

y/n turned her face away just before he could close the distance. “get off me, haitani,” she said coldly.

ran chuckled, unfazed, and took a seat beside her. “y’know, in our line of work, you should really learn how to let off some steam.”

y/n shot him a glare as she stood up. “i’d rather kill myself than touch your dick.”

ignoring him, she strode over to the table, focusing on the blueprint laid out before her. it detailed the mansion’s layout, highlighting the safest route to the basement vault. her men would be the ones retrieving the gold—she just had to make sure nothing went wrong.

behind her, ran lit a cigarette, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before offering her one. she took it between her lips, waiting as he flicked his lighter again, the small flame illuminating his smirk.

“so, what now, mrs. haitani?” he murmured.

y/n shot him a glare before blowing a puff of smoke right into his face. “will you drop that nickname?”

“why should i?” ran teased. “you’re literally my wife.”

she flipped him off before turning back to the blueprint.

finally, she got to business, explaining the plan while ran listened, cigarette dangling lazily from his lips.

the plan was in motion.

y/n unlocked the door to the basement vault, eyes widening at the sight before her. holy shit.

“woah. this is bonten’s?! sick!!” ran whistled, hands on his pockets like he owned the place.

after what felt like forever sneaking the gold out through the underground tunnels, a sudden knock on the door made them both freeze.

fuck.

“ma’am, sir, your dinner is here. we’ll just bring it in and place it on the table.”

y/n’s head snapped to ran. “did you lock the door?”

ran blinked. “…shit.”

pure panic. there was no time. no excuse. nothing—except—

“moan,” ran hissed.

“what?!”

“just moan, y/n!!” he whisper-shouted.

“ugh…” her face scrunched in confusion, but she did it anyway.

“louder.”

“fuck… ugh…”

“yes… baby, just like that.”

they both moaned, playing up the act.

y/n’s men exchanged glances, eyeing the two of them weirdly.

the door, which had started to open, immediately slammed shut.

“s-so sorry, boss!! we’ll just leave your dinner to the main table and—uh—give you two some privacy!”

y/n and ran rushed to lock the door before bursting into laughter.

“what the fuck just happened?” y/n wheezed.

“no clue, but that was fucking hilarious,” ran grinned, still breathless.

they stared at each other, laughter dying down until y/n cleared her throat, straightened up, and walked off like nothing happened. ran just smirked, watching her go.

and after what felt like an eternity, all the gold was safely out, retrieved by bonten.

mission fucking accomplished.

y/n’s phone suddenly rang, cutting through the silence. she glanced at the screen—mikey.

“yes, boss?”

“don’t think your mission is over yet. you two need to lay low for a while. after that, you’ll both disappear without a trace—the yakuza couple was supposed to stay hidden anyway. good work, y/n. you proved yourself again.”

a small smile tugged at her lips. “thanks, boss.” the call ended.

“who was that?” ran asked, tilting his head.

“mikey.”

“what did he want?”

“he said we have to keep up the act for a while, then we can finally ‘disappear’.”

ran smirked, tilting his head. “so you’re telling me i get to keep calling you my wife a little longer? damn, y/n, if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re just looking for an excuse to stay with me.”

y/n just rolled her eyes, too exhausted to come up with a comeback.

ran took y/n’s hand, ready to leave. “let’s go.”

but just as he stepped forward, y/n suddenly tugged him back. before he could question it, she reached for his shirt and effortlessly unbuttoned the top three buttons.

his brow lifted. “woah, y/n. if you wanna fuck, you could’ve just said so.”

“shut up. we’re supposed to look like we were fucking, remember? now, play the part.”

ran grinned. “or—and hear me out—we could just do it for real. no need to pretend.”

y/n gave him a deadpan look. “i’ll kill you.”

before he could retort, she tousled her own hair slightly, making it look messier. satisfied, she took ran’s hand and led him out.

they made their way to dinner, playing their roles perfectly, before heading straight to their room for the night.

they got ready for bed, and ran was already sprawled out on the mattress—shirtless.

y/n crossed her arms, unimpressed. “what the fuck are you doing?”

ran barely glanced at her. “going to sleep?”

“you’re not sleeping there.”

he raised a brow. “you don’t get to decide that.” then, turning his back to her, he added with a smirk, “either you sleep here with me or on the sofa—uncomfortably. your choice.”

y/n huffed. “fine.”

stubbornly, she curled up on the couch. or, at least, she tried to sleep. but no matter how much she shifted, the cushions were too stiff, and the cold air nipped at her skin. after what felt like an eternity, she finally gave in, slipping into bed as quietly as possible. not because she cared about waking ran—she couldn’t care less. she just didn’t want him to know he won.

“took you long enough.”

she froze.

“shut up,” y/n muttered, facing away. “couldn’t sleep there.”

ran chuckled, clearly amused. she ignored him, shutting her eyes, but before she could even think about sleep, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into a warm, solid chest.

“get off me, haitani!” she hissed, squirming. but ran didn’t budge. he was stronger. instead, he just held her tighter.

“shhh. what kind of husband would i be if i didn’t cuddle my wife?”

“fuck you, ran.”

“oh? do you want to?” his fingers teasingly skimmed her waist.

y/n stiffened, about to snap at him, when he let out a low chuckle. “kidding. i’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want.” then, more serious, “but for fuck’s sake, stop moving. i need to sleep.”

“maybe if you got your filthy hands off me, i could lie down peacefully.”

“don’t want to. i like seeing you mad.”

she huffed, debating whether it was worth the struggle. probably not. ran wasn’t letting go anytime soon. and, maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t that bad. his warmth, the way his breath fanned against her neck, how naturally her body fit against his…

y/n’s face burned.

but she let herself relax, just a little. just for tonight. it’s not like she had a choice anyway… right?

the next morning was… well, different.

ran was sprawled out on his back, one arm thrown over y/n, while she was comfortably nestled against his chest—like some picture-perfect married couple.

except they weren’t a married couple.

and y/n was about to be violently reminded of that fact.

a sudden flash. then another. and before her brain could fully register what was happening, a click.

her eyes shot open.

the first thing she saw? a fucking phone.

the second? sanzu standing at the foot of the bed, grinning like a maniac.

y/n screamed. loudly. she shoved ran off of her so hard he groaned.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

“morning, lovebirds,” sanzu greeted, waving his phone.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?! HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN?!”

“damn, your security is tight,” sanzu whistled. “so hard to convince them i’m ‘friends’—” (he even air-quoted it) ”—with the infamous yakuza couple.”

“THAT DOESN’T EXPLAIN WHY YOU’RE TAKING PICTURES OF US!”

“boss wanted an update. had to send proof you two were still alive.”

y/n’s eye twitched. “DELETE. IT.”

“too late.” sanzu smirked, shoving his phone in her face. “already sent it to the group chat.”

y/n let out another scream and chucked a pillow at him. “GET OUT!”

sanzu dodged it with a laugh. “didn’t know your kink was hate sex.”

“GET. OUT!!”

“alright, alright! no need to scream, jesus.” sanzu rolled his eyes as y/n practically shoved him out, slamming and locking the door behind him.

she exhaled sharply, pressing her back against the door. then she looked down.

…only in her bra and panties.

fuck.

her eyes widened in horror as realization hit—she must’ve stripped in her sleep. a habit she had when it got too hot. and she’d completely forgotten ran was in bed with her.

so that’s why sanzu assumed they fucked.

before she could spiral further, ran—who had been silently watching this entire shitshow—finally spoke.

“good morning, sexy.”

y/n whipped her head toward him.

he was smirking. biting his lip. ogling at her with zero shame.

she grabbed the nearest piece of clothing off the floor, yanked it over herself, and bolted for the bathroom.

behind her, ran just chuckled.

the day had passed quicker than expected, and now it was already afternoon. y/n was curled up in bed, buried under layers of pajamas and a hoodie—the complete opposite of how she’d started the morning.

“seriously? you’re just gonna rot in here all day?” ran’s irritated voice cut through the room.

y/n didn’t bother responding, too focused on munching her chips and watching tv, treating him like he was nothing more than a ghost.

ran exhaled sharply before snatching the remote and shutting the tv off.

y/n rolled her eyes. “what the fuck is your problem?” she tried to keep her voice steady, but the irritation bled through.

“what’s my problem?” ran scoffed. “you’re sitting here all day like you’re not in the middle of a fucking mission!”

“can’t i have one day off?”

“no, you can’t!” ran shot back, arms crossing over his chest. “weren’t you the one who said this couple is supposed to be obsessed with each other? because right now, you’re doing a shitty job of proving it.”

y/n let out a dry laugh. “oh? what do you want me to do? suck you off in front of everyone?”

y/n shouldn’t have said that—because the next thing they knew, they were already tangled in each other, mouths colliding in a desperate, feverish kiss. y/n’s clothes were long discarded, leaving her in nothing but a lace bra and panties, her body pressed against ran’s as if she was trying to crawl under his skin.

their kisses were messy, hungry—like they’d been starving for this, for each other, for far too long. ran’s lips trailed down her neck, licking and sucking until he was sure to leave marks. y/n was just as desperate, hands roaming his body, nails scraping lightly down his chest before slipping lower.

her fingers ghosted over his cock through his pants, and ran let out a breathy chuckle against her throat. “thought you didn’t wanna touch my dick?”

instead of answering, y/n shoved him back, straddling his lap as she crashed her lips onto his again. one hand braced against his shoulder while the other worked his belt open with practiced ease. once it was undone, she gave it a sharp tug. ran lifted his hips just enough for her to yank it halfway down, exposing the growing bulge beneath his boxers.

she didn’t waste time. wrapping her fingers around him, she pumped his cock, slow and deliberate, her lips finding his neck again. ran groaned, his breath hitching as her thumb teased his slit.

“fuck, y/n…” he exhaled shakily, head tipping back. “didn’t know you were this filthy…”

she covered his mouth with her palm, silencing him with a teasing smirk. “shhh… just wanna make my husband feel good.”

her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing the fabric aside. she trailed kisses down his chest, across the ink on his ribs, lower and lower—until she was kneeling between his legs, face inches from his throbbing cock.

ran watched with hooded eyes as she licked from the base to the tip, agonizingly slow, her gaze locked onto his. his jaw clenched, hands instinctively reaching for her hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail.

“shit—” his voice broke when she finally took him into her mouth, sucking him in inch by inch. ran cursed under his breath, head falling back, fingers tightening in her hair as he fought the urge to thrust into her throat.

but restraint was never his strong suit.

his hips jerked, pushing deeper, and y/n gagged around him, eyes watering as she tried to take it all. ran groaned, watching her struggle, watching her take it anyway.

“fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he rasped, rolling his hips again.

tears pricked at y/n’s eyes, but she didn’t stop—didn’t even think about pulling away. the sight alone was enough to drive ran insane, his grip tightening as he forced himself deeper, relishing the way she took it, the way her nails dug into his thighs.

but just when he was teetering on the edge, he yanked her off, squeezing her cheeks before crashing his lips onto hers, swallowing the desperate moan she let out.

“waited so long to ruin you…”

ran’s voice was low, dripping with something dark as he manhandled y/n onto all fours. one hand pressed against the small of her back, keeping her in place, while the other wrapped around the base of his cock.

he didn’t waste time. spitting directly onto her slick folds, he used the tip of his cock to smear it over her entrance, teasing her with slow strokes.

“fuck… should’ve fucked this pussy a long time ago,” he groaned before sinking into her in one brutal thrust.

y/n’s breath hitched, fingers twisting into the sheets as ran buried himself to the hilt. he started moving immediately, both hands gripping her shoulders as he fucked into her, dragging her back onto his cock with every snap of his hips.

“is that… is that all you got, haitani?” y/n forced out, voice laced with mockery even as her body trembled beneath him. she knew exactly how to get under his skin, and ran hated it.

his grip tightened. “don’t test me, y/n… unless you wanna be crawling out of here tomorrow.”

she let out a breathy chuckle. “should’ve just fingered myself—”

ran shoved her face down into the mattress before she could finish. his palm flattened against the back of her head, pinning her down as he railed her. his pace turned punishing, each thrust knocking the air from her lungs, his cock stretching her so perfectly it had her vision blurring.

“jesus—slow down, ran…!”

he didn’t. didn’t even hear her.

he was too focused on the way her pussy gripped him, too lost in the way her body took everything he gave like she was made for this.

y/n tried to speak, to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t form. only broken moans and desperate cries left her lips, her mind going completely blank as he fucked her into oblivion.

the sounds of skin slapping, the wet, obscene noises of their bodies colliding, and her shameless moans echoed through the mansion. she didn’t care. couldn’t care. all she could think about was him—the way his cock dragged against her walls, the way his grip was bruising, the way he felt so fucking good inside her.

just when she thought she might lose herself completely, ran suddenly pulled out. before she could even register the emptiness, he flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress with his weight.

his gaze was locked onto her as he leaned down, tongue dragging slowly over the bonten tattoo inked between her breasts.

y/n let out a shaky whimper, her whole body shuddering beneath him.

ran smirked against her skin. “what happened, baby?” he cooed, voice dripping with amusement. “all that attitude, and now you’re just lying here, letting me have my way with you?”

his fingers trailed down her stomach, teasing her entrance, feeling how drenched she was.

“you hate me, right?” he taunted, slipping two fingers inside with ease. “so why’s your pussy so fucking wet for me?”

without warning, ran slammed back into her, knocking the breath from her lungs as he caged her beneath him. his arms braced on either side of her head, trapping her as he set a brutal pace, fucking into her with the same unrelenting force as before.

his face was buried in the crook of her neck, breath hot against her skin as he whispered, “not so tough now, eh?”

y/n barely managed a glare, biting back a moan as she spat, “shut up and just fuck me.”

ran only chuckled, amused by her defiance—because he knew she was losing it, her body betraying her even as she tried to act unbothered.

grinning, he shifted his weight, grabbing the backs of her thighs and folding her legs against her chest. the new angle had her gasping, his cock hitting even deeper, making her entire body tremble beneath him.

“let’s see who’s gonna cum first,” he taunted, watching her face twist in pleasure.

“no…” y/n turned her head, hiding her face behind her arms, embarrassed by how quickly she was unraveling.

ran loved it. loved how she had so much fucking attitude, yet here she was, taking everything he gave like she was made for it. watching her fall apart beneath him, so submissive, so fucking ruined—it was heaven-sent.

“ran… i can’t—” she whimpered, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes as her body tensed, overwhelmed by pleasure.

ran cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him before slipping his thumb between her parted lips.

“oh, you can, baby,” he cooed, watching as she instinctively sucked. “you’re so fucking good to me. clenching around my cock like you don’t want me to leave.”

he pulled his thumb free, dragging it down her swollen lips before tapping it against her clit. her whole body jolted, another broken moan spilling from her mouth.

“that’s it, baby,” he groaned, snapping his hips harder. “take it. you wanted me to fuck you? then fucking take it.”

y/n was gone, unable to think, unable to form words—all she could do was take him, let him fuck her raw, let him use her like he had every right to.

ran grinned down at her, eyes gleaming. “not talking back now, huh?” he teased, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts. “where’s all that attitude, princess? too busy getting fucked stupid?”

he could feel it—her walls fluttering, her thighs trembling, the way her breath hitched like she was right on the edge.

“go on, baby,” he groaned. “cum on my cock.”

her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. a cry tore from her throat as she came hard, body convulsing beneath him. ran groaned at the way she clenched around him, his thrusts growing sloppy.

pulling out at the last second, he fisted his cock, stroking himself fast as he hovered over her. y/n barely had time to catch her breath before the first hot spurt of his cum painted her chest, dripping between her breasts.

ran exhaled a shaky breath, watching the mess he made of her, eyes dark with satisfaction.

“fuck,” he muttered, smearing some of it over her nipple with his cock.

y/n gave him a tired glare. “you’re disgusting.”

ran just smirked, tapping her chin with his cock.

“and you love it.”

ran wiped his release off y/n’s skin with a cloth he grabbed from the nightstand, slow and deliberate, before tossing it aside. then, without a word, he rolled onto his back beside her, breath still uneven. y/n lay staring at the ceiling, mirroring his position. the heat between them still lingered in the air, thick and unshaken.

“so… what now?” ran murmured.

“dunno. still hate your guts, though.”

“same.”

silence. heavy. loaded.

then, y/n exhaled, voice firm. “we should never do this again.”

ran nodded once. “right. this is only a one-time thing.”

except—it wasn’t.

start | part 2

[tinybeetiny]

Wrong Person Right Time: K.H&J.W

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

Been working on this for a few months.... actually longer 😅 before my little hiatus so I figured i'd finish it...

->Starring: BestFriend!WooyoungxAfab!ReaderxHongjoong ->Genre: Smut ->Cw: Explicit language, spanking, mean Wooyoung, hesitant Hongjoong, lots of spanking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, cum eating, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), I think that's it. please let me know if I missed anything

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

Being Wooyoung's best friend came with a lot of perks: good food, someone to yap with, and a built-in binge-watching partner.

The only real downside? His booming laugh and unapologetically loud voice that often drew judgmental stares when you were out in public.

Still, you endured the occasional side-eye for him.

Besides, with Wooyoung came the rest of the guys, each one a whirlwind of chaos and charm in their own way. They’d welcomed you like family, treating you as one of their own.

Tonight was your weekly movie night. As usual, you strolled right into his apartment, arms loaded with your favorite snacks, and made your way to his room.

Predictably, he was focused on a game, sitting on his bed with his back to the door. You smirked, already plotting.

After a quick trip to the kitchen, you returned with a single ice cube. Silently, stealthily, you crept behind him and dropped the freezing cold surprise down the back of his shirt.

His reaction was instant and dramatic.

“HEY! What the hell?!” he shrieked, leaping from the bed and flailing like a man on fire.

You cackled, doubling over as he twisted to get the ice out, glaring at you like a betrayed lover.

“Revenge,” you declared proudly.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered, but his lips twitched into a grin.

“Damn right you do. Now let’s go, the snacks aren’t going to eat themselves.”

After he changed into a clean shirt, the two of you curled up beneath your shared blanket on his bed as he tossed you the remote.

“What are we watching?” you asked.

“You pick.”

“You always say that and then veto my choices.”

“I do not!” he protested through a mouthful of chips.

“You do! Remember when I picked that rom-com?”

“That movie was so bad.”

The two of you argued lightheartedly, bickering over genres and titles like an old married couple.

Every suggestion was met with a dramatic groan or an exaggerated gag.

Eventually, you both fell quiet, lost in the overwhelming abyss of options.

That’s when you noticed it. The wrappers. The empty wrappers.

"Um. We may have a tiny problem," you said sheepishly, turning to him.

He glanced at the mess and pouted. “Aw man, I was just about to pick something too.”

“We need more. It’s not movie night without snacks.”

“But I don’t wanna walk all the way to the store.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s five minutes. Plus, I’m the guest here.”

“Guest? Pfft. You basically live here,” he scoffed. “Still not getting your chips.”

“Jung Wooyoung, I swear if you don’t—”

But he was already groaning dramatically, dragging himself to his feet and muttering like a martyr as he headed out the door.

While he was gone, you figured you'd take a quick nap

__

Hongjoong had been planning his revenge all day. After yesterday’s dance practice, where Wooyoung had relentlessly smacked his ass like a drum, he was out for payback. He only needed one clean hit, just enough to leave a handprint and a bruised ego.

When he stepped out of his room and into Wooyoung’s, he didn’t hesitate. He saw someone lying facedown on the bed and grinned. The lights were dim, and he was too focused to notice the subtle clues, the shorter shorts, the longer hair.

He crept closer, lifted his hand high into the air, and—

SMACK.

A loud slap rang out, followed by your piercing scream.

Wooyoung paused in the doorway, frozen mid-step with a bag of chips in his hand.

Hongjoong stood there, frozen too, staring in horror as you scrambled upright, clutching your cheek with wide, teary eyes.

“Oh my god—oh no—I-I didn’t—I thought—Yn, I’m so sorry!” he stammered, face blazing as red as your skin.

“What the fuck is going on?” Wooyoung rushed in, eyes darting between you and Hongjoong, who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

Hongjoong bolted, fleeing the scene like a guilty puppy. His bedroom door slammed shut behind him.

Wooyoung’s laughter exploded through the apartment. “Oh my god, he really did it.”

You groaned, pressing a cold water bottle to your stinging cheek. “What the hell did you do to him?”

“The same thing he just did to you… all day yesterday,” Wooyoung replied with a casual shrug, as if you hadn’t just been assaulted in his place.

You blinked at him, dumbfounded. “So… let me get this straight. You knew he was out for revenge and you let him slap me instead?”

Wooyoung just snorted, trying and failing to suppress a grin. “Honestly? That was even better than what I planned. You should’ve seen his face.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the bed dramatically and covering your face with both hands. Your cheek still throbbed slightly, a lingering warmth spreading beneath the skin, and not all of it from the slap.

“I cannot believe this,” you muttered.

Wooyoung leaned over you, resting his chin on his hand like he was admiring a piece of art. “You looked kinda into it, though.”

“What!? No!” you protested, but the heat rising in your face betrayed you.

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “You so did.”

Before you could defend yourself again, he grabbed your hand. “C’mon.”

“Woo, stop, where are we going?”

“No. No no no. Wooyoung, don’t you dare—”

He ignored your protests, dragging you down the hallway like a man on a mission. Your heels dug into the floor, but he was unrelenting. When he reached Hongjoong’s door, he didn’t even pause. He shoved it open without warning.

“HYUNG!” he called cheerfully, yanking you in and slamming the door shut behind you.

Hongjoong looked up from his phone, startled. But the moment his eyes landed on you, his expression faltered, eyes darting away, a furious blush blooming across his cheeks.

You stood there frozen, pulse pounding, your hand still caught in Wooyoung’s grip. You weren’t sure what was worse: the memory of the slap or the way your body had responded to it.

Your cheek still burned, but so did everything else. When your eyes flicked to Hongjoong’s lap, just for a second, your thighs squeezed together instinctively.

Wooyoung plopped down onto the bed, spreading his legs and patting the space between them. “Come here, Yn. I wanna show Joongie something.”

You hesitated. “Woo, stop. This is not—this is not funny anymore.”

“Don’t be shy now,” he smirked, voice dropping just slightly. “You weren’t shy a few minutes ago.”

You glared at him, but your feet betrayed you, slowly moving one step forward… then another.

The heat between your legs grew noticeable, unbearable. Your panties clung to your folds with every movement, the friction sending sparks up your spine.

You tried not to show it, but it was impossible not to notice the way your breath hitched, the way your thighs brushed together as you walked.

By the time you reached him, you couldn’t meet either of their eyes. You were painfully aware of how exposed you felt, how warm your skin was, how flushed your face must be.

Wooyoung hummed low in his throat, pleased as you stopped right between his legs. His hands came to rest on the backs of your thighs, fingers trailing up lazily, possessively, like he had all the time in the world.

“There she is,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours now. “Knew you’d come.”

From the bed, Hongjoong looked like he was holding his breath. He hadn’t said a word, but the tension in his body spoke volumes.

His clenched jaw, the slight twitch of his fingers, and the way his eyes lingered on your legs, then darted away.

You shifted under their stares, your breath shaky, every nerve ending screaming with anticipation.

Wooyoung’s hands slid up the backs of your thighs, and your breath caught when his thumbs slipped beneath the hem of your shorts. He glanced up at Hongjoong with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Look at this, hyung. Isn’t it perfect?”

He tugged the fabric upward slightly, just enough to reveal the faint red imprint of a hand blooming across your cheek. You shivered under his touch, trying to stay still as Hongjoong’s eyes flicked down. His lips parted ever so slightly, and you could’ve sworn he stopped breathing.

But Wooyoung tsked softly, dissatisfied.

“Mm, no, you can’t see it all the way.” He looked up at Hongjoong again, almost like he was showing off. “Hold on.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but it was too late; he hooked his fingers under your waistband and slowly, deliberately, pulled your shorts down to your thighs.

The air in the room shifted.

Hongjoong’s gaze dropped, and this time, it didn’t move. His breath hitched, and for a split second, you thought he might actually moan aloud.

Your lacy panties clung to your hips, delicate and sheer, leaving very little to the imagination.

The imprint was clearer now, stark against the soft swell of your ass.

Wooyoung gave your cheek a squeeze, rough and possessive, making you let out a tiny gasp. “There we go. That’s better, isn’t it?”

Hongjoong didn’t respond. His mouth opened slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“She liked it, too,” Wooyoung said casually, though the edge in his voice was dark and knowing. “Didn’t you, baby?”

You gave a slow, trembling nod, unable to speak, your cheeks burning just as much as the one on display.

Wooyoung’s hands moved again, turning you toward Hongjoong. “Come on,” he murmured as he bent you over the older boy’s lap, your bare thighs brushing against his. “Do it again.”

Hongjoong’s hands instinctively caught your waist, steadying you. You felt the heat radiating from his body, the way he tensed beneath you.

His breath ghosted against your skin as he stared down at the print he’d left.

“She wants you to,” Wooyoung said lowly, leaning close behind you, his hand stroking your spine like a whisper. “You want it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You nodded again, this time with more desperation, hips shifting slightly on Hongjoong’s lap. You felt his thigh twitch beneath you, felt how hard he was trying not to move.

Hongjoong’s hand hovered above your skin, fingers trembling.

“She’s so wet, hyung,” Wooyoung added with a smirk, his voice like silk soaked in sin. “You should feel how soaked her panties are. All from one slap.”

You were trembling.

Not out of fear, but anticipation. Desire. The heady kind that built between your thighs and made your skin feel too tight.

Bent over Hongjoong’s lap, your shorts tangled around your thighs and your lacy panties clinging damp to your heat, you felt completely exposed… and yet you didn’t want to move.

Not even a little.

Hongjoong’s hand still hovered over your ass, frozen like he was afraid to touch you again.

His breath fanned across your lower back. You could feel how warm his thighs were beneath you.

Every slight movement you made made his body react, tense, sharp inhalations, the twitch in his leg you couldn’t unfeel.

But he still didn’t move.

“Hyung,” Wooyoung said from behind you, voice low and amused, “are you just going to stare at her all night, or…?”

Hongjoong swallowed hard. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

You let out a breathy laugh, still trying to steady yourself. “Hongjoong… you already did.”

He froze.

Wooyoung’s hand dragged slowly up your thigh again, ghosting over the curve of your ass. “And she liked it. Look at her. Can you feel her shaking?”

You whimpered softly, burying your face into Hongjoong’s thigh as the heat coiled tighter in your stomach.

“I think you’re being too gentle,” Wooyoung continued, a note of mock disappointment in his tone.

“She’s practically dripping, and you haven’t even touched her properly yet.”

Still, Hongjoong hesitated.

And Wooyoung, growing impatient, decided to take matters into his own hands.

Without warning, his palm connected sharply with your ass.

Smack.

The sound echoed through the room, and your moan escaped before you could catch it, loud, needy, shameless. Your hips jolted, and your fingers gripped Hongjoong’s pants tightly. The sting bloomed hot, electric, and you could already feel the arousal pooling between your legs again.

You could feel Hongjoong react beneath you, his thigh tensing hard, a low groan slipping out under his breath.

His hand finally dropped to your ass again, this time more assured. He gave your cheek a light slap, not nearly as hard as before. It was hesitant. Testing.

You let out a soft, sweet gasp, but Wooyoung was not impressed.

“Aww, that’s cute,” Wooyoung said with a grin, leaning in close to Hongjoong’s ear. “Are you scared of making her cry?”

Hongjoong’s jaw flexed.

And then—

Smack.

A much firmer slap landed across the opposite cheek, making your back arch and a choked moan fall from your lips.

Your thighs instinctively pressed together as you clenched around nothing, your entire body reacting to the sudden shock of sensation.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed, voice barely audible. The pressure between your legs was dizzying.

Wooyoung let out a breathy laugh, wicked and delighted. “There he is.”

Hongjoong’s hand lingered on your ass, feeling the warmth of the fresh imprint he’d left. His breathing was uneven now, like he was trying to reel something in, but it was slipping.

Wooyoung pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting down your spine again. “Tell him how much you liked that, sweetheart.”

You nodded shakily, voice trembling. “I… I did. I liked it a lot.”

“Mmhm,” Wooyoung hummed, lips brushing your ear. “Think she deserves another?”

You barely had time to recover from the last slap before Hongjoong’s hand was trailing downward, fingertips grazing the hem of your panties.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I—” you tried to speak, but it came out as a breathy moan when his thumb pressed lightly against the damp lace between your thighs.

“Fuck, she’s soaked,” he said under his breath, eyes locked on the way your panties clung to your folds.

He pressed a little harder, just enough to feel the heat and slickness beneath, but not enough to give relief.

Wooyoung grinned behind you, his hand caressing the curve of your back. “See? You made her like this.”

Hongjoong’s eyes darkened.

“She’s been holding back,” Wooyoung continued, voice like a devil in silk. “Trying so hard to be good while you sit there like you don’t want to wreck her.”

Hongjoong didn’t reply. Instead, he hooked a finger beneath the edge of your panties, pulling the fabric to the side slowly, exposing your glistening folds to the cool air and to both their hungry stares.

You gasped, arching again, heat surging through your core as your soaked pussy was finally laid bare.

“Oh, baby,” Wooyoung breathed, moving around to kneel beside you now, eyes devouring the sight. “You’re dripping.”

He brought his fingers to your hips, gently spreading you open just a little more for Hongjoong, who was still frozen in place, clearly overwhelmed—but barely holding on to control.

“Touch her,” Wooyoung murmured, his voice low and coaxing. “She needs it.”

Hongjoong inhaled deeply, then slid his fingers between your folds. The first contact made your whole body shudder.

“Shit,” he whispered. “You’re so warm…”

His fingertips stroked slowly, exploring, dragging the wetness up toward your clit. You whimpered, hips tilting into his touch, silently begging for more. When he circled your clit with a little more pressure, your moan slipped out, helpless and needy.

Wooyoung leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let him hear you.”

Your breath stuttered. “Joong…”

He cursed under his breath at the sound of his name falling from your lips like that. His fingers moved faster, more deliberate now, learning the way your body responded; every twitch, every breath, every subtle grind of your hips.

Wooyoung leaned in to kiss your shoulder again, hand sliding down to cup your ass. “Think you can take both of us, baby?” he asked, voice warm and full of mischief. “You’re doing so well…”

You whimpered, nodding into the mattress.

“Good girl.”

Wooyoung’s hand moved to your inner thigh, spreading you open just a bit more as Hongjoong continued rubbing tight circles into your clit. You were shaking now, the pressure building fast, dizzying and hot.

“Let’s see how far we can take her,” Wooyoung murmured to Hongjoong, who gave a short, shaky nod in return, his fingers now slick with your arousal as he dragged one down to your entrance, gently pressing in.

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut, hands fisting in the sheets.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Wooyoung whispered, one hand now brushing along your side, the other gripping your ass as he leaned in to press a kiss to the small of your back. “You ready for more?”

Your moans were spilling freely now, the room thick with heat, breath, and the sounds of slick skin being touched.

Hongjoong’s fingers worked rhythmically inside you, one, then two, his thumb circling your clit with growing precision.

You were gasping his name between broken cries, your body trembling under the slow, deliberate torment.

Wooyoung stayed close, his hand sliding along your spine, mouth pressed to your shoulder in small, coaxing kisses. “You’re so close, baby. Let go. Show him how good he’s making you feel.”

Your thighs trembled. You tried to hold on, but every pump of Hongjoong’s fingers had your muscles tightening, your hips grinding down, chasing the inevitable.

Then Wooyoung reached beneath you, sliding a hand between your thighs to rub small, firm circles over your clit, right over where Hongjoong’s fingers pressed into you from below.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed against your skin. “Let us have it.”

You shattered.

The orgasm hit fast and hard, crashing over you like a wave. You cried out, high and helpless, body writhing between them as your walls clenched tight around Hongjoong’s fingers.

Wooyoung's fingers slowed down as they worked you through every last tremble.

“Fuck,” Hongjoong breathed, still moving his fingers gently inside you, as if memorizing the way you pulsed around him. “You’re perfect.”

Wooyoung kissed your temple and smirked. “Now we’re just getting started.”

He gently helped you sit up, but Hongjoong had other plans. He stood and scooped you into his arms easily, your body pliant and dazed from release.

He lays you down on the bed, chest against the sheets, ass in the air.

“You look so good like this,” he murmured, sliding your ruined panties down your legs slowly, reverently. “So fucking wet…”

You gasped when his hands spread you open from behind—and then his mouth was on you.

Hongjoong didn’t hesitate. His tongue dove into your folds, lapping through your soaked slit before zeroing in on your clit, licking and sucking like he’d been starved.

You moaned loudly into the pillow, your thighs twitching with oversensitivity, but he didn’t stop.

If anything, the growl that rumbled from his chest only made him hungrier.

At the same time, Wooyoung stood in front of you at the edge of the bed, slowly unbuttoning his pants.

His cock sprang free, already hard and aching. He stroked it once as he looked down at you with a smug, dark smile.

“Think you’ve got it in you to help me out, pretty girl?” he asked, voice low and rough with want. “You can suck me off while Joongie feasts on you like the sweet thing you are.”

Still breathless, you nodded and opened your mouth.

Wooyoung groaned as he stepped closer and guided himself to your lips, rubbing the head against your tongue before easing in slowly. His hand threaded into your hair, keeping your head steady.

“That’s it,” he praised, hips rolling just slightly. “God, your mouth feels so good…”

Behind you, Hongjoong groaned against your pussy as your moans vibrated through Wooyoung’s cock.

His tongue moved relentlessly, licking and teasing your clit, then plunging inside again.

One of his hands snuck between your legs to rub slow circles as he sucked, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated body.

Sandwiched between the two of them, your body trembled, caught in their rhythm.

Hongjoong’s tongue pushing you toward another orgasm while Wooyoung fucked your mouth in shallow, lazy strokes, savoring every second of your pleasure-drunk expression.

“Such a good girl,” Wooyoung murmured, hand tightening in your hair. “Taking both of us like this… I knew you could.”

Wooyoung’s hips moved steadily as you took him deeper, your lips and tongue working in sync.

His hands tangled gently in your hair, holding you with both tenderness and hunger. “That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he murmured, voice low and rough.

You hummed softly around him, feeling the tension in the room coil tighter with every breath.

Wooyoung groaned, slowing his pace. “I’m close… you’re driving me crazy.”

You swallowed, cheeks hollowing as he gave a shuddering thrust and released, shooting thick ropes down your throat “Fuck…” he breathed, relaxing against you.

Hongjoong’s touch was immediate, his tongue tracing slow, teasing patterns that made your breath hitch. “You ready for more?” he asked quietly, eyes dark with desire.

You gasped as waves of pleasure rolled over you. “Yes… please…”

Your back arched involuntarily, moans spilling out as Hongjoong’s mouth worked magic, coaxing your second orgasm with careful persistence.

When you finally caught your breath, Hongjoong’s gaze met yours, warm and intense. “You’re incredible,” he whispered.

Wooyoung smiled from beside the bed. “Yeah, she really is something else.”

You looked between them, flushed and breathless. “What do you want me to do now?”

Hongjoong’s hand brushed your hair away from your face. “Just trust us.”

Wooyoung chuckled softly. “We’re going to take turns showing you exactly how much we want you.”

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[oatmealmika]

Trafalgar Law NSFW Alphabet pls🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

ofc broski 😎 this is just letters a - n, i’ll possibly do more but idk yet!

cw : smut, afab reader, not proof read, cumming inside but law gets rid of it with his devil fruit, undergarment stealing, cowgirl position, possibly ooc?, awkward loser law, dirty talk, masturbation,

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

as a doctor, law makes sure you take all the necessary precautions, even though you’re sore asf.

fortunately, after he’s convinced you handled yourself properly, he drags you back into bed and places a plethora of sloppy kisses on your jaw.

surprisingly, the surgeon of death is a real softie during aftercare, no matter how hard he went just a few minutes prior. he pampers you, covering your naked body with the mountains of blankets on the bed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, he likes his tattoos. they’re symbols, and essentially verifications, that he’s loved and he is capable of being loved by another. he wants to get a tattoo for you too, you’re this age of law’s image of love, so why not?

on you, he reallyyyyyyyyy likes you’re waist. no matter your shape, your waist is where his hands automatically lead to when he’s around you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he can cum inside you without a worry since he can just get it out of you with his devil fruit, so why wouldn’t he take advantage of that?

the first few times, he does make himself wear a condom out of worry but his fear soon leaves him and, man……….. if he was not gonna cum inside of you at least twice a week from here on out, he didn’t think he’d make it.

he also loveeeeeeessssss when you cum on his face after using him to pleasure yourself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

… panty stealer. he’s the fearsome surgeon of death, but he’s still a man with a lot of pent up demand for pleasure.

he’ll muffle his face with an unwashed pair, his hand wrapping around his cock and jerking himself off.

his tongue slowly licks at the fabric where your crotch would sit and, when he cums, he brings your panties down and spills all over them.

he’s sure to throw it in with his laundry and sneakily place it in your underwear drawer, tho ^^

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

experience? ……… who?

yes, i’m a diehard virgin law enthusiast, fight me!

he’s been so busy with his personal revenge plots that he hasn’t had time for sex.

sure, he’s jerked off plenty of times, whilst admiring a piece of fanart from one of his favorite series, but that was as far as it went.

that was until he met you.

since then, you and him will go at it like animals, very much to his pleasure.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

like i said in this post, his favorite position is cowgirl.

while he enjoys being in control, he cannot deny how much he loves seeing you on top of him with your tits bouncing ever so gorgeously.

when you get weary, he’ll piston his hips up into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

law’s always such a serious and stoic guy. knowing this, you’d expect him to be a stone cold, unwaveringly nonchalant dude when it came to sex.

NOPE!

you’ve earned his love. you get to see him be soft and silly, as a treat.

when the moment is tense and suffocating my hot, he’ll chime in with a cheeky joke, poking fun at something he does just to get a giggle out of you.

he can be balls deep inside of you and still self deprecate.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he will trim them down, but he rarely shaves. he doesn’t really see the point of it. pubes are there for a reason, so why would he get rid of them?

during long missions, he never trims OR shaves, so he gets a cute bush. the carpet matches the drapes.

law also doesn’t mind pubes on you, in fact, he finds himself getting a stiffy by the thought of you and a lovely bush 🫣

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

early in the relationship, he’s a lot more awkward and not exactly sure how to do the whole intimacy thing. when he tries dirty talk for the first time, he stutters and his voice cracks…….. dear lord save this man

once you two get more comfortable with one another, and by law’s standard that means your souls are intertwined together, he’ll definitely get the hang of being romantic. he’s conscious about your reactions to things and what you like.

eventually, dirty talk comes a lot more naturally. he’ll whisper it in your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck.

”lovely… you’re soaking right through your panties, just after sucking my dick… you’re filthy, honey…”

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he used to jerk off roughly twice or three times a week, when he was about to go to bed. he found it was the only time he had to release whatever he had pent up. he’d typically just do it to porn.

when he was crushing on you, his masturbation ritual count rose up to four or maybe even five times a week. you’re such a light in his life, convincing him that he was capable of being loved, so he did he guilty at first for tarnishing your angelic image.

but once you two started going out, he felt a lot more comfortable jerking it to you. the best part was that, now, he had the real person that he imagined when yoinking it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

has a praise kink while also having a degradation kink. this dude istg

he tends to mix them both in his dirty talk, for example:

”you take me so, so good, dumb slut…” “you look fucking pathetic on top of me, princess.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

other than the bed, you have a few limited options around the tang that he feels comfortable having sex in.

first would be the shower. it’s just as private as the bedroom and, bonus, he’ll just turn on the water to drown out both of your sounds. he enjoys pressing you front-first into the glass, seeing your tits smushed up against them with the tension seemingly steaming up the room.

second would be the closet. a lot more frisky,

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it really gets him going when you do tiny acts of service for him. like making him coffee in the morning, insisting on helping him with paperwork, bringing him lunch when he refused to remove himself from his desk chair.

it makes him feel loved and respected, since you know he is a very busy man and does need someone’s help, despite parading around as a tough, stoic man. he had to grow up quick, so being able to lean on you has a big impact on him.

if you do something as simple as bring him dinner, he’ll ‘return’ the favor in other ways…

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he isn’t turned off by spanking or light choking, in fact he enjoys giving you pussy slaps and a bit of pain play, but stuff that can quickly go wrong with just one slip is an automatic no.

think things like wax play, knifes, and fire usage.

————————

made by @oatmealmika.

[teddy06writes]

Whumptober Day 20 - Dallas Winston

Dallas Winston x gn!reader

Prompt: "Who did this to you?"

Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, swearing

Summary: You get jumped, Dally plots revenge.

You should have been paying better attention. If you'd been paying attention, you would've seen the socs coming from a mile away. And if you had seen them coming then surely you would have had the good sense enough to take a shortcut home, or to the Curtis house, or at least to the DX station where Steve and Sodapop could've scared them off.

Your thoughts raced in these circles as you limped down the street, back in the direction of home.

They hadn't even given you time to fight back before they had dragged you off into an alley, to give you one hell of a soaking. One smart comment in earshot of the wrong person had given you a swollen eye, a busted lip, and some number of other bruises littering the rest of your body.

"Holy shit, (y/n), is that you?"

"You don't look so good."

You turned, finding Ponyboy and Johnny leaning against the side of a corner store, smoking. Before you could even open your mouth, Ponyboy was pulling you out of foot traffic, and Johnny was lighting a cigarette to place between your still shaking fingers.

"What the hell happened?"

"Don't ask 'em that, ain't it obvious? It was the damn socs!" Ponyboy exclaimed.

You nodded, taking a drag of the cigarette, "Shoulda seen it coming. I slagged off that damn Chet what's his name in fifth period and someone musta heard me."

"Christ! wait till Dallas hears!" Ponyboy exclaimed.

"Wait till Dallas hears what?"

At the sudden sound of your boyfriends voice, the boys jumped, turning to Dally and beginning to stutter out that they found you like that. Of course, Dallas heard none of that as soon as he caught sight of your busted up face.

He was pushing them aside and taking the sides of your face in his hands, "Who did this to you?"

"Dal-"

"Who did this?" He asked again, barely holding back his anger.

You glanced away before meeting his eyes again, "Chet something or other- he runs with Gregg Parkers gang."

Dally nodded, releasing you, and running a hand over his face, thinking for a moment.

"It's fine Dal, I was practically asking for it-"

"No, no, no, none of that shit, doll. That little slime ball, is going to pay for messing with what's mine," There was something hard in his tone, in his protectiveness that tugged at your chest, as he turned to Pony and Johnny, "Listen, you two get them back to the house, see if Darry's got that first aid kit of his stocked up, alright?"

Ponyboy and Johnny nodded duitifly as he continued, "Then I want you to get Two-Bit, and Steve, hell, anyone you can find, and send 'em to meet me over at Buck's. I gotta go find Shepard."

"What about us?" Pony asked.

"You stay with (y/n), alright? I don't need Darry hounding me about dragging you into this, too." He looked around the street, before turning back to you.

"Dallas..." You tried to protest again.

"C'mere," Dally pulled you into his arms, briefly, and pressing an uncharacteristically chaste, gentle kiss to your temple, "Let me do this."

Without another word he was heading off down the street, and Johnny and Ponyboy began to corral you back towards the Curtis house, so that Darry could patch you up.

Eventually, Dally, Two-Bit and Steve would return to the Curtis house, and with bloody knuckles, Dally would join you on the couch, holding you close, happy in knowing that you were safe.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 2

[chap one] | [all chapters here] | [chap three]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | Oooh I'm excited for this chapter! Would love to hear what everyone thinks about Eddie's characterization! And, after editing this chapter about half a dozen times, I feel like I'm still just not quite conveying the motivations of the character well, so let me know if her thoughts/feelings could be more clear!

Taglist | @daisyridleyss @munsonssweets @marrowfrog00 @lotrefcp @rach5ive

WC | 4.0k

Chapter Two

Getting away on Sunday afternoon to meet Eddie was easy. You’d celebrated your birthday on Saturday, with your friends dragging you along on plans that they put together weeks in advance before you returned home for a far too formal dinner with your parents. You probably could have - and should have - been more excited considering that you were toasting your legal adulthood, but if anything, it just stirred even more desire for change and rebellion in you. What good was being a legal adult if you were still trapped in high school, if you were still just following the status quo?

You told your parents as you were leaving the house that afternoon that you were going to the ice rink - your dad grunted in acknowledgement, too caught up in his reading to really hear you, and your mom commended you for how dedicated you were to skating. To both responses, you rolled your eyes, leaving without saying goodbye.

You knew exactly which picnic table Eddie referred to in his note, as you weren’t the first person to meet him there for a drug deal, nor would you be the last. It was a well-known spot for students to meet with the metalhead - although it seemed like no one actually talked about it, probably because they themselves didn’t want to admit to any interaction with him, somehow everyone knew exactly where Eddie made his deals.

There were trails running through a lot of the forest that made it easy to find your destination; you left your car on a neighborhood street not far from the school, and trekked your way into the woods. It was still pretty in late September - leaves weren’t falling to the ground quite yet, and the sounds of wildlife could still be heard up in the trees and low on the ground. Not that you were one to appreciate nature much at all. But it was hard not to at least notice it as you walked quietly along the trail, going over exactly how you might propose this crazy idea of yours while trying your best not to trip over rocks or step in mud puddles.

When you arrived at the picnic area, Eddie was nowhere to be found, which was actually a relief to you. It gave you more time to think, to calm down and find the best means of conveying this idea to him. You felt stupid, having this strange and foreign anxiety in your chest, but it couldn’t be helped. Best you could do was relax and put on a cool face whenever the delinquent did finally show up.

You were about to sit at the picnic table, but quickly decided against it once you took a closer look at the rotting wood - it was disgusting and dirty, and you weren’t going to risk ruining one of your favorite skirts or catching some nasty disease. So, instead, you paced, keeping your mind busy as you waited, taking in your surroundings with an air of boredom as the hour hit 4 and you were still here alone. Eddie better show, or you weren’t going to be happy.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps crunching on twigs and brush caused you to look around, not quite sure which direction the sound was coming from at first. But it didn’t take long for you to spot Eddie hiking his way to you, surprised amusement on his face as he approached. He cocked his head, lips tugged back in a grin, as your heart skipped nervously; god, you felt so stupid being edgy like this, it was so unwarranted.

“Well, well…” He drawled, crossing his arms as he walked closer to you, “I’ve seen a lot, but the ice princess wants something from me? Now I really have seen everything.”

The way he said “ice princess” was jarring, almost as if it was both an insult and an inarguable fact. Yes, you’d heard people call you that before, but never with the gusto that Eddie Munson added to it - you briefly wondered if the nickname was more common than you originally thought, and then you wondered who it was that first came up with it. Was it Eddie? No, if anything it was probably someone in your own circle that started that stupid nickname, maybe even Duncan - you didn’t think Eddie cared enough to come up with a nickname for some popular kid who he’d never even spoken to before.

It’s as if his use of the derogatory nickname immediately reminded you that there was no reason to be nervous, because you could feel your usually cool demeanor coming back to you.

“Don’t cream your pants, Munson.” You replied bluntly, crossing your arms as if to mimic Eddie’s posture. His brows went up in surprise - it briefly crossed your mind that he might not have known what your voice sounded like, let alone how you talked. Well, now he knew.

Eddie tilted his head down slightly as if speaking to you conspiratorially, “I wasn’t expecting a chick like you to be so vulgar.”

You rolled your eyes. Okay, maybe this discussion would be more challenging than you had anticipated. Having never actually interacted with Eddie before today, you couldn’t have predicted what your dynamic together would be. From what you could tell after only this one minute of interacting, your personalities were bound to clash, making your impossible plan all the more impossible.

“I guess I’m full of surprises.” You replied plainly, your tone disinterested. Without thinking, you leaned your rear on the picnic table, but quickly jumped away when you remembered how dirty it was, an affronted sound escaping your lips. As you tried to wipe dirt from your ass, Eddie chuckled. To that, you shot him a cold glare.

“Alright, what are you looking for, princess?” Eddie asked while sitting on the filthy bench - that felt intentional, as if he was mocking your disgust at the grime and muck on the table, “Ask and you shall receive.”

You raised a critical brow at his theatrical tone, at the way he said ‘princess,’ at his entire demeanor. Yup, this was going to be impossible. You were certain that your judgmental expression was clear as day, because you could see the cogs turning behind Eddie’s eyes, how he was analyzing you just as much as you were him.

You stared at him with your arms crossed, your hip jutting out to the side as you briefly considered him, considered what you wanted to ask of him. You made a bit of a harsh face as you responded, “That’s a bold claim, considering that you don’t know what I’m going to ask.”

You met Eddie’s dark eyes as if to make a point, his brow furrowing in curious response. His gaze was mocking as he held your stare, “You think anything you ask for will shock me? Snobby rich kids always want the same stuff.”

“‘Snobby?’” You nearly snapped, glaring smally in offense. To that, Eddie pointed his hand at the empty bench across from him, a defiant look on his face.

“Take a seat then.” He challenged, the corner of his mouth curling up. You make another grossed out face, to which he gives a half-hearted shrug, giving him all the confirmation that he needed, “That’s what I thought.”

You scoffed, turning your back while grumbling, “God, I knew this was a stupid idea…”

You started to walk off in annoyance, trying your best not to trip over rocks or sticks in your haste, but only made it a few steps before Eddie called after you, “Wait, wait, come back…”

You spun back around, but remained planted where you stood, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms as if prompting him to continue, to grovel and earn your trust.

“I’m just joking,” Eddie raised his hands in a lazy surender, his face growing surprisingly sincere after a moment, although that sincerity was also laced with a hint of judgment, “What are you gonna ask for, then?”

He’s patient, watching you as you deliberate what to do. Was it worth it? Did you really need Eddie to make this plan work? Should you call this off while you still had the chance?

No. This plan was stupid as all hell, but you were going to do it. With a determined little stomp of your foot - Eddie smirking in amusement at the mildly childish action - you approached the picnic table, bracing your hands against it as you tried to ignore the feeling of dirt getting under your nails.

“If you laugh at me, I’ll ruin you.” You threatened while meeting his eyes. Again, Eddie grinned, but he otherwise kept his mouth shut, which seemed to be his way of agreeing to your terms, “I don’t need drugs, I need a favor. It’s gonna sound… honestly ridiculous.”

“Okay…” Eddie leaned forward so that your faces were only a foot apart; his expression was one of neutral attentiveness, however, you could see the sparkle of intrigue in his eyes. You don’t pull back from the close proximity he created, studying one another’s faces; it felt strange to be observed by him so closely, as Eddie had a way of scrutinizing you that felt different from those you knew, different from the way people normally looked at you. You tried to find the best way of proposing your dumb idea, but nothing would make your request sound less crazy than it already is.

Finally, you gave up with a sigh and just blurted it out, “I need you to date me.”

Despite your earlier threat, an unexpected bark of a laugh jumped out of Eddie’s mouth. He raised his fist in front of his lips and pretended to cough, as if that would do anything to hide his very clear amusement. Your eyes widened in intense warning. To his credit, Eddie composed himself quickly, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, although you could still see a little twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Can you repeat that for me?” He prompts, fighting off his laughter and confusion.

Again, you roll your eyes - god, you were going to be doing that a lot with this guy, weren’t you? You were already getting tired of it.

“I don’t want to actually date you,” You said as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world, “Just pretend. You know, like one of your dumb games.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened a little at the insult, but instead of retaliating he simply pulled back, putting a bit of distance between you. He looks you up and down in consideration, his mind racing to understand your unexpected request.

“Care to elaborate?” He questioned, his tone mildly critical.

You purse your lips in annoyance as you consider where to start, eyeing Eddie closely - how the hell did you explain to someone that you wanted them to be your fake boyfriend? You sighed, pulling back from the table, starting to walk in a slow circle around it. The motion was vaguely like skating around a rink, so in an odd way it helped you think.

“I hate literally everything about my life,” You paused, half expecting Eddie to mock your pathetic woes, but he remained silent, “It’s my senior year and I’m only now realizing that nothing in my life is up to me, that I don’t have any control over anything - everything is decided by someone else. And I’m fucking tired of it.”

You could see mild surprise on Eddie’s face, and you wondered if it was because of your foul language - it always seemed to surprise people to hear the way you could talk considering how nice and well-behaved you appeared, although you’d always been anything but.

You continued, “I want to do something stupid, something that’ll piss off my parents, that’ll get everyone to stop treating me like some untouchable, perfect princess.” You chose the word deliberately, looking Eddie dead in the eye, “And what stupider than to date Eddie freaking Munson?”

Now, it was Eddie’s turn to look somewhat offended, “Gee, thanks.”

Maybe it wasn’t the most effective tactic to keep insulting the man you were trying to bribe, but you just couldn’t seem to help yourself. You didn’t exactly know how to be nice to anyone. Eddie’s eyes considered you for a moment before something of a mean look flickered across his face.

“This has something to do with that boyfriend of yours, doesn’t it? What, you break up or something?” And then an almost mirthful realization flashed across his eyes, obviously seeing some change in your demeanor that you didn’t intend for him to notice, “Ooh, I get it. He broke up with you, didn’t he? You trying to win him back?”

You brace yourself against the table again as you glare at him, but otherwise you maintain your composure, your tone condescending and mean as you reply, “I do not want him back. He could drive off a bridge for all I care. I want to get under his skin. I want to get under everyone’s skin.”

You could tell that Eddie didn’t get it - he still didn’t understand why you needed his help in this ridiculous plan of yours, and he didn’t understand why you were feeling the way you did. With a sigh, you try to calm down and unclench your tight jaw.

“Look, Munson,” You caved in and stiffly took a seat on the opposite bench as if to bolster your argument, to make him take you a little more seriously, “I know it sounds crazy, but I just know nothing else will work.”

“And how do you know that?” He urged - you couldn’t tell if he thought you were an idiot or if he was actually interested in hearing you out.

You stared at Eddie for a long moment, trying to find the easiest way to make him understand. He stared back, again showing far more patience than you would have expected from him, especially with the likes of you. As you study his face in thought, you finally sigh, shaking your head as you look away with a vague annoyance set on your features.

“I don’t actually know, okay?” You start, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye for a few moments, “What I want is complete and utter… social suicide. To just stop worrying about my reputation or what people think. I’m sick and tired of expectations and status quos and doing what I’m told or what people expect. I want to piss everyone off. I want to piss Duncan off. I just… it feels like I need to change, you know?”

“Nope, I have no idea what you mean.” Eddie says plainly, and as you glare at him, you realize he’s joking once he finally cracks a smile. His eyes are surprisingly kind as he leans forward on his elbows, parroting your words, “When have I ever subscribed to expectations and status quos and doing what I’m told?”

At that rhetorical response, your face relaxed for the first time this entire conversation. Hell, you even felt a mild excitement wash over you as you consider what his words were implying, “So… you’ll do it?”

Eddie makes a face as if he’s still mulling over the idea, still trying to figure out what exactly your motivations were, “I mean, you’re bratty and rude and this plan is kind of stupid, but I might do it.”

“Might?” You ask, trying not to sound too pushy or annoyed by his casual insults. If this was going to happen, you both had to learn to stop prodding at each other like this, learn to stop picking on each other just because you could. That might prove to be the most challenging part of all of this, though.

Eddie smirks, rising back to his feet as he contemplates, “What do I get out of this? And don’t say money - that’ll make me feel like a prostitute.”

As you pulled a face, Eddie grinned at his own comment, obviously finding that idea amusing in some way. And like a teenage mimicry of a business person, you sat up straighter, looking at him plainly as you presented your offer, “No, but I do have one idea. But if you think of something better…?”

Eddie nods in confirmation, urging you to continue.

“Well, my uncle’s a cop--”

At that, Eddie chuckles abruptly while cutting you off, “Oh, trust me, I know exactly who your uncle is.”

Aside from shooting him a small look, you continue as if he hadn’t said anything, focused on getting this plan hatched, “I think I can help you. You can’t get in trouble with them anymore if I’m the one taking the fall.”

Eddie’s brows rose in surprise at your words, his arms crossing as he studied you, “What, you think your pretty little ass can handle a night in lock up?”

“No, genius,” You roll your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, “If it falls on me, there will be no jail, no arrest, nothing. The minute I tell someone who my uncle is, they won’t even think about putting a hand on me, that would be stupid. I’m effectively untouchable.”

Eddie nods, rubbing his chin, “But doesn’t that go out the window if you commit… What did you call it? ‘Social suicide?’”

You shrug, “Maybe. Maybe not. But I can probably keep them off your ass for the rest of the school year so long as you don’t do something too stupid.”

“You want to date me until graduation?” Eddie makes a dramatic show of placing his hand to his chest as if he’s flattered.

“Jesus…” You mutter to yourself with a sigh, “We’ll see where it goes.”

Eddie, again, nodded while humming in consideration. You sat quietly, waiting for him to add something to the conversation. You could tell that he was drawing it out, though, milking the moment just for the hell of it, to put you on edge. Suddenly, he slaps his hand down firmly on the table, causing you to jump in your seat.

“We have a deal.” His eyes glint as he smirks at you, “We play happy little couple, we destroy your reputation, piss off all your friends, and you keep me out of trouble. What could possibly go wrong?”

It suddenly felt like he jinxed everything by saying that, ruined it before you could even begin, but you ignored that feeling as you gave him a slight smile, actually pleased with how the conversation had gone. Of course, there was still that strange sense of disbelief at the entire situation - it was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever thought of or done, but that also made it kind of exhilarating in its odd way.

Eddie walked around the table, leisurely sliding onto the bench beside you, intentionally leaning over to bump your shoulder playfully. It was unexpected, causing you to make a slight face at him, but that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Look, princess, you gotta start being nicer to me if you want to convince anyone that we’re a couple.” Although his tone was teasing, you knew what Eddie said was true. Even you, known for your bitchiness, couldn’t be too mean to the man that you were supposedly dating, especially if you wanted to get under Duncan’s skin - the nicer you were to Eddie, the more it would annoy Duncan that you were never that nice to him.

“Fine.” You say plainly, looking him in the eye, “If that’s the case, no more ‘princess.’”

Eddie made a teasing face, “Then what do I call you? It would look strange if your boyfriend didn’t have any pet names for you, right?”

You sighed, but he did make a good point - it made you realize that you needed to lay out some ground rules for this whole fake dating thing, something that you hadn’t accounted for during your planning stage.

“When we’re around other people, just call me something nice. I don’t care what it is.”

Eddie’s playful expression was still in place, “Oh, you’ll regret that…”

You rolled your eyes, and yet this time the corner of your mouth pulled up into an amused grin despite yourself, “Just be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you. Can’t be too hard, right? And don’t touch me unless it’s in front of people.”

You looked him up and down critically with that comment. It's not that you were worried about him being gross or anything like that, you just hated people touching you unnecessarily.

“Any other commands, my liege?”

“What, you want me to write this down for you or something?”

Eddie pretended to consider the idea, “If only I knew how to read, princess.”

You made a face, knowing that Eddie kept calling you that dumb nickname quite intentionally, that he kept testing you with deliberate aim. Trying to resist rising to the tempting bait, you continued explaining the dos and don’ts of fake dating. 

“Okay,” You started, raising your pointer finger. Eddie made a show of paying close attention, surely just to mock you, as you raised another finger with each new rule you stated, “One: we have to try to be nice to each other. Two: no unnecessary touching if no one’s around. Three: we have to spend a lot of time together, like, not just at school - we have to go out sometimes, especially to places where people will see us. Four: we have to be extra obnoxious when Duncan’s around. Five: … I’m in charge.”

At the last instruction, Eddie laughed right in your face, “You’re in charge? I thought this was a relationship, not a dictatorship.”

You had a response ready to leave your lips, but you let it go - practice for the inevitable niceties to come, you supposed. Eddie studied you for a moment while half smiling, seemingly aware that you were doing your best to bite your tongue.

“Alright, alright, you’re in charge…” He rose to his feet, which seemed to signal that the conversation was coming to an end, “So, what, starting tomorrow I’m your boyfriend?”

“I mean… Should we build up to it first?” The question sounded ridiculous, you knew it sounded juvenile and naive in its way, but it had to be asked. And yet again, Eddie chuckled.

“Sure, we’ll ‘build up to it.’” His tone was teasing, but not quite so mean as before. Eddie studied the look on your face, trying to learn how to read you considering the amount of time you were surely about to start spending together, “Don’t worry, princess, I’ve got this in the bag. Relinquish some of that control a little, okay?”

He slowly began to walk backwards towards the trail, waiting for you to join him, so you stood to walk alongside him. You almost neurotically began dusting yourself, trying in vain to get the dirt and the mud and the dead leaves off of your skirt, out from under your nails.

You caught up to Eddie easily enough, continuing to pick at your well manicured nails, “I’m serious, Munson, please don’t fuck this up.”

Eddie threw his arm around your shoulder, once again disregarding one of your rules without a single care. He looked down at you with a teasing look on his face, confirming that he did that on purpose, confirming that he was sure to keep doing it on purpose, “Relax. I’ll flirt with you tomorrow, I’ll flirt some more throughout the week, I’ll start hanging around your locker or talking to you at lunch, and then by the end of the week I’ll ask you on a date. Deal?”

You stared into Eddie’s eyes a moment before lifting his arm off your shoulders, stepping just out of reach with a mild sneer on your lips, “Okay, deal.”

His smile is wide as he walks alongside you back to your cars. This was going to be one hell of a time, and he, frankly, was all too curious to see how it would turn out.

[trixielooart]

Bully oc!

Harvey Smith!

The artistic older brother of Gary Smith who has been locked up in Happy Volts Asylum for two years (he was first put in the asylum at 16 and escaped at 18).

Personality:

Harvey has quite a split personality, one side being chilled and calm whilst maintaining his sense of humor, similar to that of Judd Birch from ‘Big Mouth’, and his other, more common side, is similar to that of Jim Carrey, more specifically Ace Ventura in which he acts more wacky, very expressive and often overly dramatic. Harvey is well known for his Ace Ventura, wacky, personality and is very much liked because of it. People who know him claim that, if he wasn’t wacky, he wouldn’t be Harvey.

Lore:

Harvey no longer attends Bullworth Academy due to getting expelled and sent to the asylum from the orders of Dr. Crabblesnitch due to his destructive behaviour and wacky antics. Crabblesnitch claimed that Harvey was mentally unstable and “out of his mind” which led to his decision of sending him to the asylum rather than just expelling him. Back when he used to attend, Harvey was originally the Bullies clique leader with Russell being his best friend and right hand man. However, once Harvey was expelled, Russell took over and became the new clique leader.

Harvey is currently dating Zoe Taylor and has been since before he got locked up in the asylum. The two of them were together for around a year before she was heartbroken when he was sent away. When he was first placed in the asylum, Zoe went with Gary to visit him. However, stopped after a few times due the gradual decline in his health due to the drugs and medication they were giving him. She couldn’t bare to watch. Instead of moving on, she waited for him to get out without care for how long it was going take, frequently asking Gary for updates on his brothers condition as she knew that he visited him on every visiting day. Now that Harvey is out, he and Zoe have been reunited and have plans for the future.

As mentioned before that Russell is Harvey’s best friend, back before he was sent away, he and Russell were very close, ruling over the bully clique together. He taught Russell a few fighting moves and even used to take him down to a local farm after school so he could see and feed the farmyard animals as Harvey knew how much he loved them. (Linking to why Gary mentioned farmyard animals to anger Russell during “Russell in the hole”).

Growing up, Gary and Harvey have always been close and got closer after their father was arrested and sent to prison when they were at a young age. Gary always relied on Harvey to be somewhat of a father figure and role model, frequently going to him to help and advise when needed. Harvey’s disappearance to the asylum, caused Gary to begin forming his plan of his takeover of Bullworth Academy, plotting a revenge hit on Crabblesnitch. Today, Harvey and Gary are still very close. Constantly bullying each other and mocking one another as brothers do. Similar to his brother, Harvey also struggles with ADHD and also anxiety and is on medication for both of them. As well as this, they are opposites in terms of memory. Gary, remembers everything. Every little detail, everything he sees. However, Harvey is the opposite. He doesn’t even remember his own name half of the time to the point where Gary nicknames him Dory from “Finding Nemo.”

Harvey has a major fear of the dark. This was triggered by the “lights out” event in the asylum. During “lights out”, the orderlies would turn off all of the lights so the patients could sleep. However, before letting them, sleep, they were dragged out of their cells in the pitch black to be injected and drugged. Orderlies felt the need to do this in the pitch black as they claim that it prevents the patients from freaking out. However, this developed Harvey’s fear of the dark as he worries that the orderlies and doctors are still around him when the lights go out.

He has a strong love and passion for art and is often found painting or sketching. He used to be Ms Phillips favourite student back when he attended the academy. Due to his skill and talent, he has been commissioned numerous times. One of his commissions being to paint Ms Phillips in numerous poses that are used as the example paintings during art class in game. As well as this, he is often commissioned by the preps, one of which being Derby Harrington as he asked for Harvey to paint Harrington house. Harvey doesn’t really like the preps due to how stuck up and snobbish they all are, however, he likes getting paid for his work.

Harvey also has a strong love for horror, more specifically slasher movies from the 80s and 90s. He really enjoys well-known horror characters like “Chucky” and “Ghostface” and has quite the collection of trinkets around them, two of which being plushies of them both.

Voiceclaim:

Marshall Lee from Adventure Time (David Glover)

I’m open to interactions with him and y’all’s bully ocs. I hope y’all like him <3

[blade-liger-4ever]

How to Make the Two Boys of Team Prime Useful

Surprised to see this? So am I.

Most people by now know I hate Jack with a passion, and that I find Raf's existence completely forgettable. So, what prompted this thought exercise from yours truly?

Simple: a longstanding desire to see human characters written well without dragging the attention away from the titular Transformers we all tune in to watch.

So, how do we do it?

Switch the boys' partners around.

Hear me out.

Arcee "needs" someone to protect to give her purpose, yet she's saddled with a whiny sixteen year old who's already chafing under his mom's overprotective habits and wants to live his own life free of trampling by his peers. Bee is relegated to Wallflower Mimic and has nothing to offer but cute sounds and additional muscle, and is paired with the Baby Human so that all age groups can "relate" to the show and characters. Ignoring the annoying thought that we need humans of all ages to connect with the giant robots we long to be friends with, this would allow more genuine character growth and prove both human males' and Bee's usefulness to the plot.

Consider with me for a moment: A slightly older Raf stumbles across Arcee and somehow gets involved with the 'Bots and 'Cons, maybe by pretending to ride her like he sees his older brother doing with his bike. Meanwhile, at that precise moment, Jack dives into Bee's alt-mode in order to hide from Vince for getting his order wrong, or something of the like.

Then, when the dust's settled and things begin to proceed like in the show, Arcee finds herself partnered with a child who can barely fill out his shoes. She's annoyed, throwing snits left right and center, but Raf puts up with it. He neither rolls over for her nor snaps back. Instead, he asks questions: what was your world like, did you have friends on Cybertron, do Cybertronians have families like humans do, etc. And all of a sudden, Arcee finds her prickly demeanor slowly ebbing away as she has someone who wants to listen and learn about what her life was like, and this in time motivates her to become genuinely motherly while still kicking serious aft.

Similarly, Jack is having a tantrum over "getting involved" with a space war, and Miko just rolls her eyes while going a mile a minute with slow 'n' steady Bulkhead. Bee - perhaps this time possessing a voice, but missing an eye and having an unusual, sickly green replacement - just lets him vent while poking around the town going "what's this", "what's that do", and "will I explode if I eat this rock" (poor examples, but he asks questions about mundane Earth things.) Slowly but surely they bond over this, and when Jack realizes he's been assigned a twelve year old Autobot, things get interesting when he takes on an actual older brother role before Bee uses that to bring out Jack's suppressed inner child.

Boom. Meaningful and memorable dynamics.

The reason for the switch is to actually play off of the "yin-yang" we had with Miko and Bulkhead. It's all about balancing characters' personalities and the time for each individual character without slipping in favor of the humans. This would benefit Raf, Bee, and Jack, and kick Arcee into legitimate Character Development.

Furthermore, Arcee's mama bear instincts would be given credence when Airachnid returns, as there's no way Raf can actually keep himself safe from her. Thus, her protective nature has vindication without being hypocritical (i.e. the first five episodes and the numerous revenge arcs.)

However, Bee is not without his own archenemy.

Shadowstriker.

You can keep his voice box being ripped out courtesy of this ex-assassin, but Ratchet is able to repair it (Hasbro has only enough room for one butt-kicking mute and that's Snake Eyes). But Shadowstriker, in her burning rage, doesn't stop there.

She tracks him down after Tyger Pax on an all-consuming quest for revenge, her offlining of Autobot spec-op officers being the only reason Megatron hasn't cut ties with her/killed her himself. She finds Bee, stalks his movements, and when the time is right, attacks. Despite her morbid disunity with her new body, Shadowstriker still proves dangerous in her combat capabilities...including almost killing Bee after stabbing him through the eye with her energy blade.

It's only through the timely intervention of Prowl that Bee lives long enough to be brought back to medbay. Ratchet curses and swears as he repairs the scout, but there's so little in spare replacements that he has to resort to a Mercenary's optic to keep Bee active. Though never the same from his traumatic near-murder, Bee accepts this and struggles to keep up with the team, his new eye providing him with a super scanner that can see in the electromagnetic spectrum.

If you want - and feel free to use this in your own takes - have Bee and Jack out on a field trip when Shadowstriker tracks him down for another rematch on Earth. Let Bee be absolutely terrified and livid. Let him make mistakes and nearly get killed a few times, while Jack has to grow a spine and distract Shadowstriker and play the mole in Whack-A-Mole until Bee can recover/backup can arrive. This way, both have more to do and actually contribute to the story.

As Optimus here can tell you, this was an unexpected infodump about my least favorite parts of the show. However, despite that, I feel much better, as some of these ideas have rattled around in my head for a while.

I hope you like it, and that you find it useful.

"Transform, and roll out!"

[hexedwinchester]

What the later seasons of Supernatural are Missing?

It's no secret that as Supernatural added more seasons, the quality of the show deteriorated and the only reason it ran so long was because of Jared and Jensen. This dilution is attributed to a lot of reasons: Kripke's era coming to end, change of writers and show runners, poor writing on the part of new writers, focus of the story shifting from Sam and Dean to supporting cast. But here's something I don't see folks mentioning a lot and that is it lacked a good villain and not just that but rather a good villain with personal interest/vendetta with our boys. Let me explain..

Season 1 and 2: Though season 1 starts off with the boys looking for their father, the plots twists into Yellow Eyes chasing Sam down for personal reasons. He is invested in Sam, personally. That's what makes it beautiful

Season 3: Stakes are high as Dean is on the clock to walk the red carpet to Hell. While that's a major crux, Lilith who holds Dean's contract is also making the vendetta quite personal

Season 4: Sam is pumped on Demon blood being manipulated by Ruby to kill Lilith to stop the apocalypse with a side of getting some revenge for dragging Dean into Hell. See what I mean? Personal again. It's all about the boys

Season 5: it can't get any more personal than Lucifer and Michael twisting the guys to say yes to being their vessels. While the angels try everything to get a yes from Dean, let's put that aside for a minute and focus on Lucifer. His first interaction with Sam is in the form of his dead girlfriend. His obsession with his vessel is so fucked up, as if he knows Sam inside out, like he already has crawled under his skin. One look at Lucifer will tell you he only has eyes on the prize: The Great Sam Winchester. That's what made this season great!

Season 6: This is where it subtly starts to go downhill. While the Soulless Sam storyline holds interest, the whole find the purgatory feels like a side quest i'd be happy to skip because the prize is not our boys' journey. Frankly, I don't care a damn about the war between Heaven and Hell

Season 7: Probably in the top 5 of my least favourite seasons. Leviathans were lame with their world domination plan by buying real estate and their leader Dick Roman sucked. It seemed like a USA problem than Sam and Dean problem. The worst of it all? Borax kills them?! Say what?! Wut?! The oldest creatures with a weakness of cleaning agent?! What's next? Shedim are scared of hyaluronic acid? Let's squirt them with moisturizer!

Season 8: This was one of those seasons without a proper antagonist. And yes, the angel/demon tablet fiasco. Nothing against advance placement student Kevin but I didn't enjoy the prophet storyline. It would have been interesting if they made it personal to the boys. I loved the Trial Sam storyline and what would have made it better would be if instead of Kevin if Sam could translate the tablet after spending all those years in Hell, you know?

Season 9: Though Gadreel wasn't the main antagonist, his possession of Sam was good. I would have loved it if they extended the part when he doesn't get out of Sam, made it personal, something like Meg!Sam situation. On the other hand, I was happy with Metatron. He was sneaky, cruel and power hungry and it was personal after he got Kevin killed.

Season 10: Somebody jog my memory of what Season 10 was supposed to be other than Demon!Dean and Mark of Cain. I have already made a post on how Demon!Dean was not utilised to a full potential and i stand by it. And that's all I have to say about this season.

Season 11: Darkness and her personal connection to Dean. Now, see the idea sounded good in theory. But sadly, they never exploited this personal connection. It could have played so well but no, they made it about God and his sister. This season also provided a gateway to bring back Lucifer but...

Season 12: it brings us to the season I hate the most. We got Lucifer back but he was no longer obsessed with Sam? (Yawning!) We got BMoL but oh god they were nothing more than a bunch of snobs in suits or as Sam rightly said "accents in a pansuits". Like seriously, what could they do to him? Nothing, that's what. Then whole Lucifer's son plot was so weak, it makes the entire season difficult to watch.

Season 13: things get very blurry for me from this season onward, so bear with me if I don't get everything right. Probably second on the list of SPN seasons i hate. This is the AU plot right? It was interesting when they mentioned Michael lived in AU but oh god they should have made Michael obsessed with Dean. Stalking him, torturing Sam to get the yes. But nope, none of that.

Season 14: we get Michael!Dean but see it's missing that personal grudge. It feels like a random possession. They could have played this so well, perhaps given us the OG Lucifer vs Michael battle.

Season 15: God? The villain? Again one of those plots that sound amazing in theory but the success lies in the execution. At least, they made it personal so that was really great. What I don't like about this season is the finale. And no, I don't mean the whole who dies, who lives. Or the rebar. Or the safe life with blurry wife. I mean the epic showdown between God and the Winchester that we all were expecting. That storytelling was missing. I don't want punches, I want a freaking battle!

Simply saying, what do you think makes Joker or Moriarty or Lord Voldemort a good villain? It's not just their power. It's their obsession with the protagonist. You take them out, that's the end of it. (I'm looking at you, Sherlock, BBC show)

In conclusion, when the show stopped making the battles personal to the brother, stopped writing the hero's journey, skipped the storytelling element and wrote villain that weren't quite as obsessed with the brothers, that's when it started falling apart.

[twstyuna]

Psst

Skully as the nutcracker au

*skuttles away*

Bria. Bria what do you MEAN you can't just scuttle away GET BACK HERE

What do you MEAN "Skully as the nutcracker" like he's a barbie doll? Youc can't just leave me with that and flounce!

I read through the Dumas and Hoffman versions and the summary of the Disney live action Nutcracker movie that flopped and what am I supposed to do with this??

I mean I guess I can smash people into roles? This is gonna be a disaster. The disjointed rambling has reached 1.6k words but admittedly some of that is explaining th actual plot of the Nutcracker for context

Yuu and Grim could probably fit into being Marie and Fritz without issue. I guess Crewel's? The dad? An uncle?? And Crowley comes in like a drunk usel3ss other uncle bearing presents from who-knows-where that he dragged out from some old closet at the last minute. Yuu thinks the ugly, gap-toothed doll with funky eyes is neat and when Fritz-Grim tries to use it like a Nutcracker only to break it because of using it on the largest, hardest nuts. Grim gets scolded.

Drosselmeyer is supposed to fix the broken teeth and jaw, but Crowley is probably the worstest Drosselmeyer in the world. He'll boast about being the Nutcracker's maker, but Yuu's gonna have to put those teeth back themself because he's of no help.

The story goes that that Christmas eve, Marie plays with the dolls and the toys come to life to fight off the Rat army headed by the 7-headed mouse king.

The only horrible thought I have for the housewardens is making them the 7-headed mouse king that gets beheaded and their crowns taken by the Skullycracker but like. I don't think that abomination would survive the cradle forget about a Nutcracker slaying them they'll kill each other before they get anywhere. So I guess Yuu's beset by 7 Separate Rat armies from 7 Rat factions or kingdoms that are too busy getting in each other's way to do any real damage.

After the first fight, the story goes into the backstory of the nutcracker and the rat king. So:

How Crowley got into a king's court as any technician or adept baffles the mind. Who needs a Rat Queen to steal away the royal court's food? He probably ate it all themself and pinned the blame on the Rat Queen and got her relatives executed to kick off the plot by her then cursing the princess into a nutcracker-like form in revenge.

I don't think he even tried to find the Krakatuk nut or the fabled Nutcracker to break the princess's spell. If Ambrose is the astrologer Crowley probably brushed off the guy's helpful hints out of pride. He vacationed and decided to never return to that kingdom and just stumbled upon Skully and the Krakatuk as his given time to find the two approached.

Eliza's a fine enough to play Princess Pirlipat. Very surface-level dame getting cursed into a nutcrackerlike shape and turning on her savior the moment she's cured when he messes up the ritual to cure her because of getting tripped by the rat queen and turns into an ugly Nutcracker.

Getting stepped on like that kills the queen and so her then- Rat prince son gets a vendetta on the Nutcracker. I wouldn't mind Mrs. Rosehearts being squished but I do not know how to account for the 6 other Rat kings. Maybe the queen is some Important Figure held in great esteem like one of the Great 7 rather than a direct relation and so the Rat kings are obligated to kill her killer? This is getting so confusing.

Anyway. Canon story goes, Rat king then comes to Marie every night demanding her things or he chews up/kills the Nutcracker. She gives away her sweets then her dolls then before the 3rd night when she gives away her new dress, Marie gets the Nutcracker a sword from the toy soldiers from Fritz, and he slices off the king's 7 heads and gives their crowns to Marie.

I don't think Skully can kill the Rat king. Or a Rat King. More because personality than ability. Would rats have honor? Would duels be enough? My thoughts are devolving into a regular schedule of duels like some kind of Phinneas and Ferb Doof and Perry nemesisry. Every night a different dorm head Rat king comes and fights but I think it might just chill out eventually.

Riddle does the duel but lacks reach to win (short rat runt). He likes the after-duel sweets very much. Trey learns how to make more goodies and gets good ingredients and the news spreads from Cater. Ace came for the sweets and Deuce came to support his kind and perhaps fight and prove himself, but it doesn't feel right to fight someone he's broken bread or biscuits with. It amuses me to think Rat may be a general rodent term and perhaps dome of them be hedgehogs.

Leona would just lounge on Giant Bed. He is a prince rather than king and brother sent him to do this. Ruggie is happy to lay down arms and have snack and Jack like Deuce also doesn't want to be mean to a host. It would be funny if Jack were like an actual wolf puppy that for some reason decided Leona (who is a rodent for absurdity) is worthy of respect and honor. Maybe he chewed Jack out of a snare.

Azul likes trading in fancy human foods and trinkets. Jade keeps trying to grow mushrooms in Yuu's room and Floyd keeps chewing up their things. The twins love firing off and escaping the traps Crewel be setting.

Kalim has decided that this is a regular diplomatic gift exchange now would you like fancy seeds mayhaps or a bunch of dropped jewelry from all over the country in exchange for trinkets? Jamil's some kind of snake whose family made a pact with Kalim's and if anybody breaks it, the whole Viper clan will be chewed alive. Anyway he has to keep Kalim out of the traps.

Vil is the prettiest mouse who wants creams and herbs and gives unsolicited fashion advice. Rook's his little bird sycophant who thinks Vil would make for the most delicious/beautiful creature (bird language is complex). Epel Vil's protege who craves sugar, salt, and grease please sneak him some look at his poor beady, teary eyes- and now Vil's dragging him away.

Idia would really rather one of the other kings do all the hard work, so he's fine chilling and tinkering. He's a better technician than Drosselmeyer Crowley. He has a fascinating little mouse automata named ortho who can fold his gears and shift his parts this way or that to have fins or wings or claws or whatever he likes. If idia ever decided it was time for world domination the rats would probably win.

Malleus didn't even know the Rat Queen but isn't too torn up about her death because she wasn't that fond of bats (Lilia particularly, the fae consist of bats and other odd creatures now because why not). He likes ice cream, Lilia likes fruit blood. Sebek is some kind of lizard and Silver's a fluffy white bird bigger than his dad.

Did I say the Rat Queen was respected? Well the kingdom was going downhill under the latest one's leadership and making a disgrace of the title and position so the current Rat kings would rather install one from their kingdom as the new ruler of Ratland. There was a semi-earnest attempt on Skully's nutcrackery life at first but they don't really want to do that anymore.

Eventually they have a council with Yuu and Skully's mediation and conduct a coup of the sitting royal family of Ratland and I guess someone better gets installed as ruler. Or maybe there are 2 7-day rotations now. One for the designated Yuu room guest and 1 for the Ratland throne. The story is full of whimsy and absurdity why not add some more.

Yuu's room is infested by rats and occasionally bats but it's better than wiping blood off the floor? Probably?? Cinderella shit going on when they have side projects and the rats present lend help. One day Crewel walks in and stares and everyone stares back and he just decides to close the door before they decide to Gulliver's travels him. So, apparently that's how Yuu's been able to help churn out so many pieces. (He thoroughly scolds them after then scolds his household dogs [who got bribed] and Grim [who also got bribed/didn't care] for letting Yuu associate with rats, but the wrmin somehow find rareherbs and know gossip so it could be worse). The rats and Assorted other creatures are required to wash themselves before they enter the home, even through the ratholes.

Oh right Skully he's here he's supposed to do something right yes um.

Well you see in the story, after killing the Rat King, the Nutcracker takes Marie to the Land of Dolls/Sweets and she wakes up in the middle of the dream, then Drosselmeyer gaslights her in front of her family that no, you imagined everything. An indeterminable amount of time after the Nutcracker kills the king, Marie breaks the spell on the Nutcracker by saying she'd love him no matter what he looks like. She faints, she meets the nutcracker as a normal human, they get engaged then married and she's taken away to his kingdom the end. How did the Nutcracker become the ruler of a kingdom? I don't know I read 2 versions and he just, suddenly had a sister and was a ruler of the Land of Dolls/sweet. Sure. Okay

I guess one day in the midst of the chaos that is being Yuu, adoptive child of Divus Crewel who helps her uncle/dad's passion for fashion with sewing (done with the help of endless rats) and having a Grim and a Skully, they say something to the effect of "Yeah I love you even if you're a very goofy doll" and behold. A Man.

Crewel immediately kicks him out, Crowley's called and he's like "Oh yeah I did take you to Princess Eliza and ruin your life for a few years because you turned into Nutcracker" and is strong-armed into owing Favors.

Skully is begrudgingly allowed to stay under Crewel's roof until his affairs are in order to return to his spooky hometown where he's beloved by his people for his valiance and sacrifice for helping poor Princess Eliza. He got cursed but he was a Prince to Them so they'd been honoring him like that every time they had a holiday. Also just bragging about their prince in general. it's kind of awkward but it's good for tourism.

Crowley gets a magic mirror so Yuu and Skully can communicate and they visit each other. Skully regularly does to make sure Yuu isn't being bullied by the rats. They remain friends. Skully kind of misses when he was a doll because Yuu cannot easily kiss his forehead anymore. On the bright side, he can do it to them without accidentally pinching their skin now.

Yuu talks to the guy who used to be a doll and watches their rat-infested room with useless, fluffy warm Grim in their lap as they embroider something for one of Crewel's orders and that's just their life now.

This feels like such crack.

The end???

[linkspooky]

I got to say. I really love your OC Lio within your atla fanfic. And that is saying a lot for I never been a fan of OCs within fanfics. I do wonder what was your inspiration for writing them

I'm glad you like Lio my OC from THIS ATLA FIC.

Well what inspired Lio was reading the search years ago and seeing Azula run off into a forest and Zuko not trying to go after her and help his sister when she's clearly mentally breaking down. Then just, not really looking for her by the time that Smoke and Shadow comes around.

The idea of Lio sprung for that, what if because Zuko didn't go after her someone else found Azula when she was at her lowest point in her life. What if when Zuko wasn't there for her, someone else was. What if this person wasn't a good influence, but was a predator lurking in the woods, and someone who couldn't be trusted and never wore their genuine face. Someone now attached to Azula who has an agenda of their own. It's like a plot consequence for Zuko never lifting a finger to help his sister.

The character they're based on the most is Yun from The Rise / Shadow of Kyoshi. In particular they're based off of my massive disappointment for how his character was handled. So excuse me while this post turns into a rant.

Rise of Kyoshi introduces a character known as Yun, the false avatar. A character who was taken off the streets and led by Kuruk's companions to believe he was the next avatar because they couldn't find Kyoshi in time. The earthbender's usual divining method for finding the avatar wasn't working and they essentially took a random nameless street kid on a hunch and prayed it would work.

They then put Yun through what could only be described as Zoldyck training if you've ever read Hunter x Hunter. He was forced to swallow poisons and stay up sick for nights on end so he'd be immune to all of them. He was forced to try to learn firebending by standing on hot coals, or training on spiked caltrops that permanently scarred his feet. His teachers horribly abused him, then frequently called him lazy for not being able to bend fire, because he you know... wasn't the avatar.

He does his best to put up with abusive training for years because he wants to help the world, and then he finds out that he wasn't the avatar. The way he finds out is that his master asks a spirit which one is the avatar him or Kyoshi, the spirit picks Kyoshi, then he's like "If you don't need Yun anymore, then I'll just eat him."

He's then dragged to the spirit world, and has to fight off a spirit named Father Glow Worm for days and then EAT him in order to escape the spirit world. He asks for a drink of water from a nearby village and not a single person helps him, and one throws the water on the ground and tells him to waterbend it. So Yun has his Geto moment and kills everyone around him.

Then, in Shadow of Kyoshi (this all happened in Rise of Kyoshi and is told to us in flashbacks of Shadow) Yun enacts a scheme to kill every single one of his abusers for revenge. His abusers who I remind you are not good people. Rangi's mom had the most student deaths by Ag Ni Kai when she was head of the Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girls and also probably killed her sister in order to get the position. The same woman that made Yun dance around on caltropped spikes and called him lazy when he showed the SLIGHTEST hesitation.

Now my point isn't that Yun deserved to get his revenge. Revenge bad. Of course revenge is bad. But Avatar somehow, while being the pro-redemption and pro-forgiveness show always manages to screw up the "revenge bad" message. I think it can be summarized in the way both Jet and Hama are treated in their respective plotlines. The feelings of the abusers (in this case the colonizing fire nation) are put in prioirity over the feelings of the victims. Even though the violence they commit is in retaliation to violence that was done of them first. Avatar only stops the question of "violence bad" without addressing where the source of the violence came from.

They also put down both victims with violence instead of trying to find a third way to stop this cycle of violence by reaching out an healing an abuse victim instead. Like, violence is bad, unless a protagonist is using it I guess.

There's no real substance to these anti-revenge messages. They're not overcoming the cycle of revenge. They're just failing to save victims with no plot consequences because they're not main characters.

Anyway, back to Yun. As I said, the feelings of Yun's abusers, particularly Rangi's mother are prioritized over the feelings of Yun the victim. Even though everything thing that Yun does is in retaliation to years of child abuse he suffered under them. Yun's abuser gets the chance to apologize and atone but not Yun himself. All because Yun wants to murder his abusers, which you know child abuse and torture is forgivable but not an abuse victim being angry and showing that anger in ways that aren't approved of by the good guys TM!

All Kyoshi can say to Yun in the end essentially is "let it go." Like, god the whole monologue sucks let me take a moment to transcribe it.

"It's time to let go." Kyoshi lowered her hands. "Whether you kill me here today or not, you have to let go of what happened." "And it didn't brting me peace. It was wrong that you were lied to, Yun. It was wrong for Jainzhu to do what he did, but he's gone. Whatever pain and anger you have left - you have to live with it. You can't put it on anyone else."

Actually, yes Kyoshi he can put it on someone else. An entire group of adults collectively abused him for like years on end and you're defending one of them because she's your girlfriend's mom, and prioritizing her feelings of the hurting victim right in front of you.

Also, Kyoshi ends the plotline by murdering Yun. Which you know, once again, violence is bad, revenge is bad, unless it's a protagonist doing it. Kyoshi preaches how you can't end the cycle of revenge with murder and then proceeds to end it with murder.

So basically after the narrative sides with Yun's abusers and Kyoshi shows no empathy for Yun, the narrative goes on to further imply Yun never really loved kyoshi because he only loved her when she was underneath him not her own powerful avatar. Like you can't just have Yun experience negative character arc due to trauma you've got to imply they were bad all along.

I do like revenge stories where the victim dies. However, they have to be tragedies for the main characters, or be used to show the flaws of the main character. Ciel / Noel in Tsukihime is a fantastic example of what could have been done with Yun's character. The TLDR: version of tha tpost is Ciel's treatment is Noel is MEANT to make her look like a bad person. To show that Ciel may be a hero but falls short as a person. Kyoshi isn't MEANT to look like a terrible friend but that's how she comes off.

Sorry, this turned into a Rant. Lio is basically my attempt to do Yun again with several aspects of their character. The child abuse. The clown / jokester personality. The gentle nature turned violent. The feeling that Lio is "Nameless" or a "Mask Maker" rather than a person. That they're worth nothing unless they play a role that was given to them, in this case protecting a royal family member. Their charisma, and their intelligence as a schemer and a tricskter. The connection to the spirits. All of it, but without horribly murdering the victim and redeeming the abuser at the same time. An attempt to redo Yun's tragedy but without blaming the victim.

Lio is also based off of Azula herself, and to a lesser extent Zuko. Like Azula, they value loyalty above all else. They show extreme loyalty to others while expecting other people to show that exact loyalty in return. They'll also resort to emotional manipulation to control people because they can't handle even the idea of rejection. Lio is clever, and a good liar, and is one of the few people who can mouth off to Azula without fear. In fact, Azula enjoys trading insults with Lio because literally no one else is able to talk to her that way. Like, it's fun for both of them to just sit there and think of comebacks and they both due it in place of actually talking to each toher about feelings because they're both fake people who like to put on masks and tell lies to hide their identity.

One more inspiration for Lio is Hak from Akatsuki no Yona or rather my problems with Haks' character. This is going to be less of a rant because the rest of the series is great. Hak is always a character I wanted to like, but the more he became a love interest the less I liked him because the plot began to ignore his glaring flaws. Basically, the difference between Soo Won and Hak, is Hak is someone who is a knight, he is loyal to one individual. He would put one person's life over the entire country. He might be the ideal knight, the best there is, but he really doesn't care about things on a grand scale. He judges things on how they affect Yona, and how people are kind or not to Yona. He didn't care about if King Il was a terrible king or people in the kingdom suffered because he was personally loyal to King Il. Whereas Soo Won will make decisions to screw over his friends and sacrifice himself as well, but for a greater good.

The plot goes into detail showing the flaws of Soo Won's decision making, that by being too willing to sacrifice people he didn't see things coming like Yona's growth into an eventual leader, or that he could have from the beginning tried to think of a way with less sacrifices if he hadn't underestimated both Hak and Yona's growth and tried to do everything by himself. Essentially he treated his two best friends as gameboard pieces but they showed him all along they were his equals and he was wrong for objectifying them and nto considering their feelings.

However, the show doesn't nearly go into Hak's flaws. After like a hundred chapters or so he basically just becomes the perfect boyfriend. So, Lio's inspiration was what if I take Hak's personality to the extreme. What if Hak was so obsessed with Yona because he was like REALLY WEIRD ABOUT IT. What if Hak's entire personality was being Yona's bodyguard / boyfriend and he had no sense of self outside of that? What if that was exactly his flaw, he's Yona's bodyguard and nothing else and therefore cannot exist without her. What if Hak's love for Yona was a FLAW?

So basically Lio is like Hak if Hak were a TOTAL FREAK about things.

[randomingoftherandomness]

So, about gongcest. It's unreal how gongcestuous it was, c-drama that could be easily mistaken for something from hbo. Wild wolf and arrogant wolf puppy-yandere, 27 and 17, sword and poison pls i'm getting dizzy! Shangjue recognized his little brother by the smell of his blood! Narrative insisits that they're the same person, the same force of nature, two-headed monster - whatever their personal squabbles might be, their hearts remain united as one. They remind me of same-sex incest's "adam and eve" - Dean and Sam Winchesters with their all-consuming love, us against the world mentality, and the fact that Shangjue raised Yuanzhi, being his father, brother, best and only friend, husband, commander, etc.

So on rewatch i have these headcanons, prompts, or visions, whatever you wish to call it. They're probably of a dead dove kind however i consider them canon-adjacent. First is - Yuanzhi kills pregnant Shangguag Qian and Shangjue forgives him. Basically canon setting - she and SJ had one night stand which resulted in baby whose existence gets in the way of 1) SJ killing her and 2) gong2gong3's marital bliss. SJ plans to find her later and take the kid from her to raise him in Gong household. But YZ finds her first. His motives are obviously jealousy and revenge and "she's not worthy to bring SJ's baby into the world". The abomination she's about to push out gonna be a stain on Gong clan's bloodline, not to mention it displeases YZ personally. "the fetus inside you gets you protection from everyone, even fom SJ himself... but not from me" delivered with a smirk. So YZ deals with her (something painful) and makes sure she's not open casket material. SJ can be furious or not so much, but he forgives didi, they reconcile and are stronger and more twisted than ever. Next concubine for his gege YZ will choose himself - some meek plain non-entity who will birth a son and disappear without a trace.

Second is - when SJ dies (like in canon. that was epic heroic warrior's death fitting for Gong Shangjue. he lived by sword and was destined to die by sword, his brotherwife is there to avenge and mourn him too. it's perfect. why did they revive him?) YZ decides to follow him and become the willing funerary sacrifice to him. You know like when archaeologists excavate ancient burial mound, and prince or hero who was buried there would be accompanied by slain horses, slaves and concubines? like that. Yuanzhi would calmly plan their splendid funeral, choose grave goods and design the tomb. He'd get on Shangjue's funeral pyre, swallow poison pill, lie down next to his brother, hold his hand, and give order to people to light up their pyre. And just like he wanted, he would die with his eyes open, looking at Shangjue, before the flames reach them.

Also i have vague thoughts of them drinking each other's blood in some ritual, but that's another can of worms in itself

Okay I really should be working right now and honestly, I should be more responsible about life, but hells fuck if I'm not eggs over easy for these two brothers :D Congrats Nonnie, you have reawakened my gongcest plotting

You've really hit the nail on the head about the Sam and Dean vibes. Except that this is one "Sam" who isn't about to up and leave his "Dean" unless death's cold and sweet embrace comes to bodily drag him away -- and even THEN. Yuanzhi would probably burn heaven and hell both just to lay eyes on his Shangjue one more time.

Please. Drinking their blood would totally be foreplay for these two freaks. Lord only knows that Yuanzhi would have had some experience in bleeding his Shangjue just to experiment with making antidotes/cure-alls/immunity pills that will only work for his beloved gege and no one else. Nah. I think Yuanzhi would probably take Gege's blood and use it as ink for a tramp stamp on his body. You know those mangas where they have womb tattoos on their lower abdomens for fertility or some such? I can see Yuanzhi getting one while Shangjue is off somewhere and surprising him with homecoming rumpy-pumpy that would or would not devolve into a breeding session because Gege will want to try and sow some seeds on fertile lands.

But I could also see Yuanzhi getting real pissed off when Shangjue doesn't turn down the matchmaking efforts of the family. Gege does love teasing his didi and loves it even more when his little efforts gets him deep scratches down his back and bite marks on his shoulders that he'll be feeling for days. But Yuanzhi burns with real fire. So much so that the next ambitious twit that tries to climb into gege's bed gets strung up by the neck on the front door. A clear warning.

Yuanzhi having the a meek and biddable concubine between his thighs Handmaiden Tale style while Shangjue's parking his swimmers would be so on brand with this. And when the baby is born and the concubine is paid and sent out of the valley, Yuanzhi goes full on mommy mode and everyone forgets the time where he wasn't 'furen' of the Jue manor.

Though, honestly? I think Shangjue wouldn't let the murder of Shangguan Qian slide without some measure of punishment. Brats need a bit of taming sometimes and the Zhiren won't interfere with his methods with a twenty foot poll. Oh, the servants were hearing Yuanzhi crying in the Jue Manor? Must be the wind. Ah, the butlers report that an extra order of lube needs to be delivered? Maybe Shangjue has dry hands. I see that Shangjue is asking for his next trip out the valley to be delayed, that's fair, yes, Yuanzhi is looking a little tired lately and as his gege he needs to take care of his didi so leave granted.

I had the thought of Yuanzhi and Shangjue on the funeral pyre with the soundtrack of Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars' Die With a Smile playing. Because, yeah, didi would rock up in a full on wedding gown just to lie down next to gege and die with a smile.

Keep this coming Nonnie! I love picking my brian to come up with these haha... Thank you for giving me this because now I have to go back to adulting

[hardworkandguts]

Weekly Catch-up #9

I've been watching too much Gundam this week, but at least with the exception of SD Gundam I'm out of the 80s now, only 35 years to go. Also picked up another show from this season, but I'll only cover it in a few weeks with a show post.

(last week, next week)

What was on?

The Apothecary Diaries

(ep 2.21) Loulan passing to her mother the idea of punishing the poison gremlin with poisonous snakes, all fat and lazy and ready for hibernation, knowing she'd have no problem overcoming it is the sort of move that sets up an incredibly funny opening to an episode (it's been a while since we've seen someone weirded out by Maomao because by now everyone in the rear palace knows she's a bit weird) that gets more grim as it goes by. You have to feel sorry for Loulan and Suirei, made to dig their own almost literal graves, and of everyone on their clan, by petty revenge of the matriarch of their clan, and neither really wanted to drag Maomao into this, and now as the smoke of the Forbidden Army is drawing close, knowing that their defeat is a fait accompli, they're doing their best to prevent more senseless suffering. In, uh, many ways. Next episode we're probably getting someone sparkly knocking on the door of the fortress with hand cannons asking if they saw his cat. Also, this episode finally overtakes the manga adaptation it is based on, and out of curiosity I've checked the other one, and on several scenes the storyboard seems much closer to the Kurata Minoji version than Nekokurage's. Coincidence, as the first is allegedly closer to the LN, or not? You be the judge.

Mobile Suit Gundam GQuuuuuux

(ep 9) so, we get to see what Machu was up to while Nyaan was eating cake and vaporising people - being questioned by Challia Bull over Shuji and a "Rose of Sharon", and after mysteriously finding a way to escape to earth on the GQuuuuuux, she finds herself crashing and waking up being taken care of in a brothel by instruction of a brown-skinned girl with green eyes. So, yeah, add Lalah to the "you need to know who this is" list, and keep some space for what's left, because this Lalah sees her backstory from 0079, also a universe where Amuro kills Char, who she patiently waits for. If Gundam multiverse wasn't enough, wait to see what Challia Bull fishes out of the water. With less than a handful of episodes to go, I feel either they're surprise announcing it will continue in October, or this might be rushed as hell, half-assed multiverse stuff often sucks.

Kowloon Generic Romance

(ep 10) well, that's confirmed both Xiaohei are the same person, the one who jumps between part-time jobs and wears dresses being the generic, the mystery is still why both can exist in Kowloon at once when every other generic just disappears. In the adventures of Kujirai and Youmei, Kujirai realised she can see glimpses of Kujirai-B's life through her old glasses which undoubtedly freaked her out, but also made her realise Kudo doesn't look at her the same way, which... Yeah. A new mystery also appears in the form of the charms glued to the wall, some with http errors. What are they meant to be? Good question.

Witch Watch

(ep 10) Nico continues to help other students, but it attracts the attention of a main villain of many school anime - the student council. In this case, a cast of characters in the true sense of the word, as they are a collection of anime clichés. Second bit has Nemu struggling with the idea of talking to Morihito again, so she does the stray cat thing without thinking and falls asleep on his lap again. Not the best episode, I think the student council bit lasted maybe twice as long as it should have, and while Nemu is a fun character, particularly when we see her her thought process as she tries unsuccessfully to not fall asleep, it's a bit of a repeat. She did run into plot, however.

Food for the Soul

(ep 9) ah, yes, the festival episode. That's a lot of work for a club that was supposed to be about doing noting, or so Shinon thought, not that she seems to mind. You know a show is in a good place and doing a good job of characterization when Nana seems particularly happy about the idea of a food stall, and you think to yourself "hey, shouldn't she be kinda anxious about having to work with strangers" seconds before she realises just that, or when Shinon gets the agriculture club president to provide them with ingredients and you are right along the other characters in thinking "what did she promise to do in return this time?". Another bit was Nana training to become more sociable, and after freaking another student out, she realises if they can't see her face she can act normal, leading to an idea very much on the ballpark for Hitori Goto. Also, good call on not making her a deer, the "mascot who sells its own species for food" thing is kinda suspect. Today's dish: venison curry soup.

mono Weekend Animation

(ep 9) another visit, this time to Kamikochi, Kurobe Dam, the tallest in Japan, where the group really can't handle a documentary about the human sacrifice of it's construction, and a visit to the venue of Ski Jumping in the 1998 Olympics. Also, Kako arriving independently at the problem or organising the Winter Olympics - with some of the infrastructure, there just isn't much else you can do with it. Comments around tell me the old man in the motorcycle was a supporting character in Laid Back Camp, and I wonder if the reason the show didn't grow on me at all is that a big component of it seems to be Laid Back Camp cameos.

Uchuujin MuuMuu

(ep 9) Couple of weeks ago I've mentioned poor Sakurako can't get a break in the electricity bill, which has climbed to around $560 by now, and takes six shifts every week at a kombini. Even worse is that MuuMuu is ignoring the mission and just watches TV all the time, and when he isn't, his antics are the subject of news reporting, leaving Sakurako paranoid people might be out to get them. Then the police knocks on his door, and it's Junichirou Anamori, a public safety officer who knows what's up because he's covering things up with Siberia, other of MuuMuu's friends. A lot of good animation bits in this episode, although I have to wonder if the story shouldn't have them introduced before the final third. Today's lesson: a lot about TVs and broadcasting. Also, stun guns.

'Tis Time for "Torture", Princess

(Ch 272) Don't tell me you never stubbed your toes so bad you were afraid of taking out the socks fearing an end of Akira scenario down there and got everyone around you concerned.

Monochrome Days

(Ch 21) of course the idea of Fudo working for Miake terrifies Wakaba, who with even all assurances this is just a temporary thing, thinks he's going to leave her for a more experienced mangaka, and Barazono, who loves a good challenge, even less surprisingly sees that as an opportunity for the first to train under top talent, and to light a fire under the later so both surpass the writing of Miake. There's a good educational bit here coming from a challenge Miake has for her staff: drawing classrooms, one of the most typical settings in manga. It explains succinctly but well how the large number of objects, perspective, materials, and need for consistency provide a challenge to the background artist, and later a reflection on that might be the reason the protagonist so often sits in the back or next to a window. Never thought of it in that way.

In other news...

Do you like hobby anime and shiny rocks? Here's the Summer show for you. Personally I can't wait until by the third episode it becomes a show about drift racing or something.

City the Animation gets a second trailer.

[plumbogs]

I'm procrastinating. So I decided to crunch some numbers yay.

Specifically the numbers of word counts of the highest-word count same-gender ships in the AO3 sims tag. The only criteria is a minimum of 10,000 words, because there's a number of crackships with 300 word one shots. I didn't mess with non-sims 2 ships because I'm not entirely sure which characters are premade or not and I already dumped enough time into it. I also didn't feel like dragging through the sheer number of m/f ships.

I didn't sort through in any way to confirm if the ship was just in passing mention or if it was the primary focal point, so the numbers are going to be bent if there's one giant fic that mentions it briefly. This is just a flaw in AO3's tagging system though. This is also not a good figure for total fandom interest in a ship, because there's no accounting for fanart, gameplay, or the hundreds of other ways people interact with it. Or for cases where One person is especially fucking insane and boosts those numbers single-handedly (hi).

so. anyway. here's the top gay count from highest to least word count:

422,182 - Pascal Curious/Nervous Subject: nobody is surprised. of course THE sims 2 m/m ship is the highest rank. we know this. they're a good couple though. they win being gay, they win being alien dads, they win it all. everyone cheer and clap.

127,405 - Tank Grunt/Johnny Smith: sims 2 toxic yaoi... unbelievably there were no results for almeric/tank which kinda surprised me. nobody's written for them. however, people love a good enemies-to-lovers and overcoming alien racism (or not). love wins!

98,498 - Alexander Goth/Beau Broke: who the fuck did this (hi). why would they do this.

78,273 - Johnny/Ripp/Ophelia: Because of the nature of this, it is hard to actually figure out Johnny/Ripp plus this without doing a lot of trying to exclude because they're often tagged together. So I just counted the whole JRO. Either way they're popular. poly win!

45,078 - Tybalt Capp/Mercutio Monty: toxic ship number two. It has a lot of one-shots under its belt. Veronaville in general suffers from being one of the less popular basegame hoods, so I think tycutio gets slept on for that reason.

14,736 - Cassandra Goth/Mary Sue Pleasant: god forbid women do anything... we finally get f/f ships in the count now. I like the idea of Cass/Mary Sue quite a lot even if I never do much with it. there's protential for some pretty cool revenge plots.

10,234 - Brandi Broke/Dina Caliente: if they didn't hit the 10k word minimum I would have started screaming and throwing up and intervening. love wins though. I still need to intervene, probably. one day.

I guess the biggest conclusions to pull are that gay people love strangetown (we knew this). okay cool i have done enough

[thecluelessdoctor]

How would you write/rewrite Exes and Oohs? Aka. episode that exposes Moxxie's mafia backstory.

OH HELL YES OK

First let's start with what's wrong with the episode.

My major problem was that again, tone was terrible. It wanted a imitating tone anytime crimson was in screen, but it made him a fucking joke.

Chaz also felt lazy, like I don't mind a character that only cares about dicking down, its hell after all, but chaz felt like a terrible plot element for drama, especially because they made him be the ex of both Moxxie and Millie, which is just crappy. And how would Millie and Chaz meet?? We have no evidence Millie left wrath before joining IMP, same with Chaz. Chaz in general just didn't need to exist

So, how would I fix the episode?

It's not a bad episode, but it isn't good either. And for once backstory doesn't feel forced because Moxxie has been shown to be incredibly good with weapons, and know alot about them, so it kinda makes sense we was once apart of a mob.

Anyway

Rewriting the episode

The episode will begin the same, I.M.P getting a call to go to greed. Moxxie seems uncomfortable with the idea, but they go anyway.

They end up at crimson's place, crimson not being there, but they are instead greeted by someone of the mob who only refers to crimson as Boss. Moxxie recognizes the place instantly, and attempts to back down. Blitz being blitz, makes him go anyway.

The mob person brings them to a meeting room, with very little lighting other than the green light through the cracks though the curtain, a dark figure sitting behind a desk, a plume of smoke making it even harder to see who it was.

Moxxie seems almost scared as the trio is shoved in, and the door shuts behind them. Crimson, the figure behind the desk talks to them about why they are really there. He's very blunt and says he wants Moxxie.

Blitz objects, saying mox is one of his best employees. Crimson obviously isn't happy with this answer, and with a snap both Blitz and Millie are dragged out, leaving Moxxie in the room with Crimson.

The curtains are opened, allowing Moxxie to see crimson.

Crimson talks about what Moxxie cost the mob when he got caught, and then completely left the Mob for some cheap job. The mob was on Mammon's wanted his, and Moxxie was going to pay. Moxxie retaliates, threatening crimson. Crimson is unamused, and has Moxxie dragged away, and locked into a room separated from Millie and Blitz

Cut to Millie and blitz, who are in two separate rooms, stripped of any and all weapons. Blitz is trying to think of a way out. They couldn't get through the door, with it being locked and plenty of gangsters outside, that wasn't a option. The window wasn't a option from them either seeing how they were on the 2nd or 3rd story. Millie is in despair, desperately trying to break out.

Cut back to moxxie, who's on a first floor room, locked in, without any weapons. Luckily the person who through him in there didn't check for the window being locked or barred.

Moxxie escaped through the window, sneaking around outside. Luckily not to many gangsters were out. He had to find a way to get Millie and blitz out

Que him being caught, and completely bad ass fight scene because he deserves it. He takes the weapons off the Hellborne gangster. Now he had a way.

He had two guns, both full, and four mags, and a knife. He found another unlocked window that didn't lead to a room, and he broke back in, checking as many doors as he could.

He manages to find Blitz's room, and shoots the lock, alerting gangsters in the building. He gives a gun to blitz, as well as a mag. Que bad ass fighting scene

They manage to find Millie in the fit of battle. Moxxie tosses Millie the knife and more fighting.

They make their way out of the mansion, but not with our a encounter with crimson, who shoots Moxxie in the arm and horn. Very painful

Crimson claims he will get his revenge, planning to shoot Moxxie fatally, before blitz shoots him. Not accurately, but good enough to wound crimson enough to retreat. They steal a car, and attempt to get to the nearest hospital.

The episode ends with moxxie in a hospital with Millie beside him, asleep.

outro

THE END

Naming this episode 'Close Call'