Curly & Dark
Hero lightly brushed their fingers against the tight curls and looked at their reflection.
"Oh, didn't you know? Villain likes looser and longer hair so..."
They were in shambles, and they hated to admit it. They didn't like their enemy, no, only offended that anyone could assume that at all. Especially their friend; why did they say that? Nothing was wrong with their curls, at least nothing they could think of. Who cares if Villain likes lighter skin and eyes?
That had nothing to do with them, and who told their friend what Villain preferred? They could be lying. Villain always lied.
Not to them, of course, or at least Hero hoped so. Villain was very careful with their words when they whispered sweet poems in their ear when they got too close for comfort in their hand-to-hand combats. Villain's eyes didn't lie when they stared longingly back at Hero; their body gave away their feelings. Hero knew it all too well and was confident that Villain couldn't care less about their dumb curls or their skin.
It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. It's a stupid claim, but it still hurts.
Hero's breathing quickened as they frowned deeply at themselves through the mirror with fingers caught up in the strands of hair and oh...
Hero thought, 'What a strange appearance. None of my peers look the way I do.' They huffed and walked slowly out of the bathroom, 'That should be a good thing. I stand out.'
It didn't feel good, however. Their head replayed the scene from earlier again.
Hero stood in front of their friend, and their friend smiled at them when they said it, trying to let them know kindly of the situation. They cared and didn't want Hero's heart to be broken when it would be revealed that Villain was just bullying them afterall.
"They have bad intentions; we all know Villain doesn't like curly hair, so it doesn't make sense... you're suit... yeah, that's probably why they said all that. If you wore something else, it would've been different."
Hero's suit now lay on their bed; they've worn it for years and never thought it played a part in their world. Was it too revealing? Inappropriate? Hero liked it; it was created to accommodate Hero's powers. They didn't think of it as anything else, but assuming it was attracting the wrong kind of attention, Hero was willing to wear something new.
They couldn't stop thinking all night after earlier. The next time they saw Villain, they should start ignoring them. Whatever Villain was up to was too cruel. If they hated someone that looked like them, then they should stop interacting completely.
At least that's what they told themselves to do, but still, Hero found themselves taking up another job that would require them to see Villain again.
They sat waiting on the ledge of their usual meeting spot on the roof of a building far from home. Any second now, they'd hear Villain's voice call their name with a ring in it that made their heart skip.
"There you are."
Hero sat up straighter and turned around. "Hi." Hero shyly spoke. It was less confident than they anticipated. Their hands immediately went to touch their hair again; the messy thing always got in the way, and they had taken the time to flat-iron it that morning before showing up. They couldn't remember the last time they straightened their hair; it's been a while, and they accidentally burned their ear with the hot rod in their haste to get it done as quickly as possible as if the curls were a disease.
"You look different," Villain noted, widely smiling as they set their gaze on them.
They swallowed their nervousness and stood up. "Uhm.. yeah, thought I could use a change."
"Looks good."
Hero wanted to ask if it was true. Still, something forced their tongue down even when silence fell into their conversation, where they'd usually idly chat for a good few more minutes before getting into their usual spar.
Villain's hand reached for their belt and pulled out the hilt of their sword. "May I have this dance?" They stepped closer and aimed at them, waiting for a response.
"Try to keep up this time." Hero's hand glowed a shallow colour, just enough to get them riled up.
They fought bravely as usual, each blow heavier than the last, quicker and matching Villain's attacks.
Their smile persisted throughout the entire duration. Hero dodged Villain's sword and slashed at the air with a sharp flick of their wrist. A thin line of energy burst from their hands, and the Villain deflected it with their sword.
Hero took another step back, catching the blade with their hand and twisting it away from their body, unaware that they'd run out of places to move as they felt their back pressed against a wall.
"So quick to lose," Villain smirked as they panted hard from their chest and out. Hero could feel their body buzzing with excitement; although some doubts still lingered, it was all irrelevant at this moment. "Or did you want me to corner you like this?"
"Don't get ahead of yourself." Hero breathed heavily, all too happy for their liking. They could feel the heat on their face, hotter than it was supposed to be after hardly fighting.
When Villain stepped closer, Hero felt their smile falter a bit. An unreasonable fear consumed their head as they repressed the feeling of touching their hair again. "Ever wonder," Villain began, "What it would be like outside the mask?" Their head tilted slightly with that same crooked smile they'd grown so used to.
"No..." Hero whispered, "There's nothing interesting."
Villain laughed lightly, "Not even yourself?" They leaned down closer, their fingers tapping at the hilt of their sword while Hero's sweating palms rubbed the rough brick behind them, memorizing every crevice.
"Not even myself." Their eyes flickered downward, then back up again, "And you?"
"I have lots to offer." They casually answered.
Hero rolled their eyes, "Sure you do."
They heard them huff and mock a shocked expression. "You're questioning me?" Villain placed a hand on their chest. "I have what you could only dream of-- what you couldn't comprehend."
"Like what?" Hero pressed.
The criminal shrugged and crossed their arms, "Nice try, but I'm selective about who I choose to tell."
'Selective.' Hero reiterated in their head and licked their lips; the feeling that tormented them the other night returned. Itching up their throat and successfully stopping Hero from pursuing the conversation any further.
"You're awfully quiet," Villain remarked and moved back from them slowly, their eyes analyzing the way Hero stood almost slumped up against the wall. "Usually, you're so much more hot-headed."
"You like hot-headed?" Hero quickly snapped. It came out more disgruntled than they wanted. Hero didn't know what overcame them; what was supposed to be a good sensation had burned into a simmering hatred for this strange relationship they had. Hero took a deep breath, their brows furrowed as they stared at their shoes and tried to stop themselves before it was too late.
"Relax." Villain's voice cut through their head. "I just wanted you to know that you're acting out of character."
Hero didn't even bother this time and felt their hands grasping at the air before they could understand. Each fist went flying at Villain, aiming to hit as hard as possible.
Villain played defence, avoiding each one of their punches with swift movements and slight turns. "What's the matter, Hero? I think you've gotten--"
"Shut up!" Their first, burning a bright array of white and yellow, shoved into the metal frame of a nearby door; the ground cracked beneath them upon impact, and Villain stumbled as they went behind Hero with that same obnoxious laughter.
Villain's brows raised, impressed as they whistled at the scene, "Careful, that could break your hand."
"I said stop talking to me!" Hero went to hit them again, throwing enough of their energy to tear Villain's sword away from their hands when they went to deflect again.
Hero never got Villain's weapon away from them before. It surprised them how much they could do, and the surprise made them nearly trip if Villain hadn't caught them just in time. Their powers faded slowly as Hero's emotions dropped back down again. Something about being held so closely has thrown them out of focus.
"I said be careful didn't I?" They softly uttered. Hero's heartbeat fell back into its strange rhythm as usual, a different kind of beat that played a romantic song in their head and repeated itself for weeks. It was then that they grew keenly aware where Villain's hand were placed, so neatly on each side of their waist and so gentle with them. Hero's eyes blinked with confusion until they buried their head into Villain's chest.
"Sorry." They muffled the apology, still holding tears back.
"It's okay." Villain's hands grasped at their suit, slightly tugging at its edges.
They shook their head, "No, it's not." Their lips trembled, and a few drops of tears escaped them as their mind muddled in the confusion of being torn between truth and agonizing desperation. They couldn't stop themselves from saying what they hoped they could hide, "Do you like curly?" Hero heard themselves whisper, wishing they had more control over what they said when Villain didn't respond right away.
Villain's fingers paused. "What? Your hair?"
Hero could only nod, too afraid that the next time they spoke, they would start sobbing uncontrollably.
"I like curly." They murmured. "I like curly... and I like dark." Villain moved one hand to their back, rotating up and down. "Is that what's bothering you?"
Hero sniffled, feeling silly more than ever. "It isn't just teasing then." They said, more to themselves than to their enemy. They smiled under them, their knuckles still stung from the last hit, but that was behind Hero now.
They briefly stood in silence until Villain questioned them again. "Who told you I didn't like it?"
Hero cleared their throat. "A friend."
"Friend?" They stretched the word, sounding more startled as Villain worked through a list of names they'd seen Hero with before. "Which one?"
"The one with blond hair." They answered slowly.
"Hero." They called.
They lifted their head, eyes still foggy. "Yeah?"
"Do me a favour," Villain's thumb came to wipe their tear, "and don't listen to them."
~~~
MASTERLIST
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My, my...
365 days...
Sounds about right.
Starting... tomorrow.
THIS IS YOUR AGGRESSIVE SIGN TO CREAT EVERY DAY FOR ONE YEAR.
Okokokokok so the goal is essentially what I said above. Write/draw something every day for a year. I know that sounds like A LOT but even if you can spare 2 minutes in your day to quickly scrible something into your notes app that's perfect.
Why should you bother with this?
You will end up at 365 pieces by the end of the year
you will improve your skills
you are bound to find some gold
even if you miss 1/3 of the days you will still have 243 things!!!
helps you be more in tune with your feeling (especially if you treat it like a journal)
you can try out different styles in a judgement free zone
uhhhh you love me
you will learn how to be more creative
you will have content to post on your blog/publish/submit to contests
you will have something to keep you going/motivated
you won't be alone
AND LOTS OF OTHERS I DONT HAVE TIME FOR
So this is your sign to write with me
(don't worry about starting on the same day just start making stuff)
I will be posting the things I write on @rheas-poetry-motivation
JOIN ME 🫵
Tagging people for reach and cause i love my moots:
@mister-dirty-hands, @bamb1fawn, @outromoony, @themortalityofundyingstars, @garden-of-runar
@ancientpokemonrock, @ang3lic-t3ars, @justiceforplutoo, @albatris, @gayafaaryn
@lorelangdon, @imastoryteller, @chaoticcandle, @gildy-locks, @jamespotterbbg
@seekmemystar, @tequilaqueen, @picklerab23, @a-k-oblackhat, @leahnardo-da-veggie
"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.
(I stole the name for this from @brieflyinfatuated because I saw it and was instantly in love. Anyway)
After quite the overwhelming response from people, I have decided I will start posting interviews with writeblrs. The decision came while I was deliberating how to celebrate my latest follower milestone.
As I get responses, I will make posts with the information I've gathered. The "interview" is broken up into sections, going over the writer as a person, what they write, and their thoughts on the writeblr community as a whole. Due to the volume of responses and general interest, I have elected to do it this way for the sake of consistency and also to make this easier on myself.
This will be a long-term activity unlike my last milestone celebration. I aim to post one interview a day until I run out of interviews to post, and will be routinely checking the form for responses. Additionally, I have added a page to my site which will serve as a "hub" for all the interviews conducted--though, tracking the #iwaw tag should serve just as well.
Go to this form and answer as much or as little as you want. You don't have to worry about following me--this is an event for all of writeblr, after all! This is my attempt to give back to the larger community.
Also,,, share this post! I'm going to be doing this for a very long time, so the more the merrier!
The villain grabbed the hero’s hand, inspecting it.
“Let go of me!” the hero spat.
“Split knuckles?” the villain said. “My, my. Tell me what you’ve been up to. Is there anyone I need to make disappear?”
written after, as distinguished from subscript
The defiant Whumpee didn’t care if they died. For a long time they didn’t, at least. It made living in hell easier. Then the Whumpers went and found themselves another hapless victim.
So what? It wasn’t the Whumpee’s responsibility to take care of fresh meat. They could’ve cared less.
But then the Thing had to go on and look up to them with those big, watery eyes. Speak with that trembly little voice, “Did I do something wrong? What’d I do to end up here?”
The Whumpee didn’t care about dying. But now they’re gonna live to protect this new captive, even if it’s the last thing they do.
Living Weapon Whumpee that doesn't know what to do when Caretaker rescues them.
They only know fighting, and violence, and even sometimes order people around when their handler allows them, what are they supposed to do if Caretaker doesn't need them?
Caretaker is a good person, and they have a lot of security like guards 24/7 and cameras monitoring their house, why would they need Whumpee?
They say they want to help, to make Whumpee get better; but how is Whumpee supposed to be better when they can be useful?
Caretaker doesn't need them. They are safe, and that's a good thing. Then why do they feel so impotent?
If only Caretaker needed them. Or if they lacked guards, then at least Whumpee could be of some use. But no.
They are useless, and when Caretaker sees that, they are going to get rid of Whumpee.
We have yandere school,, but what about yan! Restaurant? 👀
You've only ever visited this particular restaurant once, but the food was just so good that you can't help but come back from time to time! And, oh.. The workers and manager there can't help but favor you a lot more than the rest ♡
I'm not sure if you meant it in the sense that the restaurant is a regular, normal business, and the staff became obsessed with you, or if the restaurant is quite literally advertised as a yandere service. I went for the latter, for the memes. Content: gender neutral reader, parody?, horde of (adult) yanderes
Yandere!Restaurant provides you with an extensive list of employees to choose from. From grey-haired and soft-spoken, to brash and youthful; the restaurant guarantees you will find your matching server within their impressive catalog.
Alright, where is the menu? Most customers are indeed taken aback when presented with a leather-bound book of blank pages. The gesture is quickly followed by a second, much thinner folder: a questionnaire, and an agreement to be stalked.
You see, Yandere!Restaurant has a particular modus operandi - you provide them with the basics: your full name and date of birth. Everything else will be uncovered by the yandere themselves. Once they have found you, the true serving process begins.
The first part is always the longest, hence their recommendation to book months in advance if you're a new customer. It's the research phase. Your chosen server will follow you around and gather all the needed information.
"No, thank you, it's too sweet for me", you tell a friend offering you some of their snack. From within the shadows, a cloaked figure scribbles down furiously.
The second and final phase is your usual dining experience. You are seated at the table and presented with your dishes. They have been carefully curated to match your taste in that very moment. Maybe you'd recently hoped you could eat your childhood favorite again. Maybe you'd seen a social media post about a trending dessert, and wished to try it out yourself. No matter the reason, know that it has been skillfully uncovered by your loyal server.
"This is..."
You gasp quietly and cover your mouth with a napkin. The taste is exquisite, filling you with a wave of nostalgia. How did they know? This is exactly what you wanted.
Why, of course. It was made with utmost love and attention. Won't you visit them again, (Y/N)?
[More Yandere Scenarios]
“how did you know i was a sub?”
baby I looked at you for 0.3 seconds before you got flustered and shy, cleared your throat, and looked away. you literally almost slipped trying to volunteer to grab something for me. I saw your eyes flutter shut when I leaned in to whisper something. I heard that sharp intake of breath when I told you that you were doing so good.
so go ahead, straighten your posture now. try to delude yourself that you’re not obvious. but you know as well as I do that it really doesn’t matter that you’re taller than me, bigger than me. it’s still just one look from me before you’re on your knees. it’s still my fingers leaving marks along your pretty skin. my voice taunting you, my lips swallowing your whimpers.
my hands working you over until you’re dripping, desperate for more. you like that, baby? feels good, doesn’t it? my pretty sub. so strong. so needy.
my kisses leaving an imprint on your brain that’ll outlast any bruise or scar. permanently rewiring your brain until all you can think about is how to please me, how to be good for me.
the world looks at you and sees someone composed, capable. but you know that you’re naught but a toy for me. ardent and willing. good sub.
let me show you how nice it feels to surrender. let me tease out your moans and your arousal until you’re pulsating and gasping. let me show you what pleasure is meant to feel like.
Waves slapped the boat as you sat in the bow. You had only been given enough time to pack a single bag.
As you watched the boat leave, you vowed to get back home better than you left. You grabbed your axe and started into the woods.
You started with making a simple shelter from a few trees then set up a campfire, leaving it unlit.
You offended a high ranking noble and got reassigned to the remotest location possible. Two years later and this 'banishment assignment' has resulted in you becoming fabulously wealthy.
Age: 18 | he/him I'm gonna write this so I don't have to say it every two stories: If you want to reblog my stories or prompts, feel free. If you want to add to them, feel free to. Everything I write here is basically written with the implied non-commercial copyright. As long as you properly credit me, have fun with these stories.
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