#something something remembering memories that don't belong to you
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feroshgirlsims · 2 days ago
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Chapter 6 - Prologue for a New After-Life
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Excerpt from "The After-life for Gods and Monsters," location of book unknown.
[flashback]
It should be said that the space between universes was not a bar. You couldn't just stumble in whenever you wanted and pour yourself a drink.
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Even if you were the most silver-tongued of creatures.
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Even if you were fast as the fae.
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"Akira Kibo, the after-life is not a free-for-all," Substance huffs, folding her arms. 
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"Yeah, and if you ain't want visitors, you shoulda been faster closing the door." 
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It was a technicality. But then again, technicalities were the lifeblood of the fae. 
Substance rolls her eyes, “Your father was like you. Fast enough to slip in here and take something that was ours. I hear the birds are still eating his liver."
"Sounds about right,” Akira smirks, “He was kind of an asshole.” 
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And there, the creature standing before the Divine Creators demonstrated that he knew the foundational rule of the universe: 
Fuck around and find out.
“Akira Kibo, last one left,” Time observes in her honeyed voice. "Ancient upon ancient. Cursed with the speed that made you at once a harbinger and a relic. You must be lonely."
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“I don’t gotta be,” Akira replies. “The Reaper's scythe is not a requirement for a new life.”
It was a law so arcane that the Divine Creators almost forgot they made it.
"You’ve done your reading," Substance allows, "And what would you offer in exchange for this new life? Would you get back what your father stole?”
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"In exchange, I will make sure that what my father took ends up where it belongs."
As far as deals went, it left a lot to be desired. The fae can't lie, which wasn't the same as saying they don't lie, so that single statement presented loopholes upon loopholes.
But it was as close to satisfaction as the Creators were going to get. 
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"It's tricky, starting a new life without death," Time purses her lips. "All this experience will be muscle memory, a life you feel but can't remember. You and your sister will be in between."
Akira shrugs. "We got over losing godhood. Pretty fuckin' sure we'll survive this." 
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"So confident!" Time quirks a brow, "Alright. Have your new life, Akira. But first, a question. Who would you be in a whole new world? What would you do with a new set of circumstances?"
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"I wouldn't be the last."
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“I would keep them safe.”
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It should be said that the Divine Creators were not usually chatty. Usually, they did not tell you shit. But sometimes, when you made a thing, you had a soft spot, and so, just before Akira reaches the doors, Time calls out:
“They will be unruly, Akira. And loathe to listen. They will make you break your rules and forget your vows. They will test your boundaries and leave you wanting. Death will come for you. And woe be unto the creatures standing in the way of the Hunt for your heart.”
With those parting words, the Creators watch as Akira walks out the doors and falls into his next life.
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"The screaming is always so loud. We should change things up," Time muses. "What about a nice bayou instead of a warehouse? We could drown everyone in a lake instead of dropping them onto concrete."
“It won’t work,” Substance grumbles.
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“Of course it will. I already have the perfect piece of property picked out.”
"Not your swamp. This plan. I don't like it."
Time is unphased. She sinks to her knees behind her wife, placing a steadying hand on her hip. "You worry too much."
“And you don't worry enough,” Substance tilts her head back. She bites down on a moan, fighting against the distraction. “You promised me an eternity of torment, and now we’ll have to free him because if the son exists, so too must the father.”
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“You are too tense,” Time plants the softest kiss at the base of her wife's spine, “Remember when we killed all the gods and replaced them? This is like that. It's a good plan."
"But my birds are—"
Another kiss. "The birds won’t go hungry for too long. Akira will remember his task.”
“The living don’t remember shit.” Substance snaps, but her voice is breathless. "And anyway, he's too fast. Cursed with it."
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“Then Death, my love, will just have to catch him.”
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PREV | NEXT
(I was going to have them pour each other wine, but then this pose by @fallstaticexit came for my throat, and it is PERFECTION)
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lover-of-skellies · 1 year ago
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Opens Google doc. Checks fanfic I haven't touched in literal months. Adds a couple small paragraphs. Immediately runs into a brick wall again
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ereborne · 2 days ago
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Song of the Day: November 22
“What Kinda Gone” by Chris Cagle
#song of the day#so close to asleep but I dragged myself in to post this before I tell myself again that one more day won't hurt anything#having a hard time but keeping in touch with folks only ever makes me feel better and I should remind myself of that more often#also the other half the point of the songs of the day is to help me keep track of time#and I've got my list (and my playlists on spotify. should put the share link up here for y'all tomorrow. I'll try to remember)#so I've got my list of what songs belong to each passing day but without writing down the notes about them in these tags#I'm dependent on my memory alone to keep them fixed as points in time and not just lines in my list#and you know if the memory could keep track of points in time without written notes then I'd have done that in the first place#anyhow today I sang half of many songs but 'What Kinda Gone' is always a good quick bouncy distraction#and it reminded me that a while back--end of July--I had a day where the song was 'Gone As You' by Corey Kent#and I had wanted to ask Del something in particular about I-35#which is namedropped in the song (in a line it took me entirely too many repetitions to parse) and made me think about /something/#I just don't remember now what it was. maybe just if you've ever driven it?#I've crossed it but we were never really moving north-south along anywhere I-35 runs#only ever east-west along 70 through Kansas and 10 and 20 through Texas. once notably 40 across Oklahoma. such clouds there#now I'm sleepy and rambling about interstates because of my country music. how American of me#if I remember later what I've forgotten since July I'll have to come back and edit this post#Del if you have any noteworthy thoughts about I-35 South please share
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transmasc-tabris · 4 months ago
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voxhypno · 3 months ago
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DAY 1
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It's just one file, you tell yourself. You've been curious about hypnosis for a long time, bumming around in a few chatrooms where "hypnotists" wait all of 30 seconds to try clumsily to make you send them pictures of your ass, and eventually you stumble across a link that leads to the video that you're staring at now.
"Obedience School (Puppyplay)", proclaims the title, along with a still image of a green spiral, mid-swirl.
You tell yourself, "Here goes nothing", and press play.
The spiral leaps to life, spinning around and around on your screen, immediately drawing your eye. As a low, warm, soft voice begins to play through your headphones, telling you that it's okay, you can relax, your eyes start to flutter. Your body begins to feel floaty and light as your mind... just...
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You wake up on the floor, the computer screen frozen on a spiral no longer spinning. Your clothes are half-removed, as if someone or something with no knowledge of how they work tried to pull them gracelessly off of your body.
Your face is flushed, your hair disheveled, and your cheeks and chest covered in... drool?
Blushing furiously, you wipe yourself clean and try to remember what happened. Bits and pieces flicker through your mind... your tongue sticking out... the feeling of carpet against your palms and knees... and a warm, all-encompassing happiness, radiating through your brain, the ripples of pleasure and relaxation still echoing within your muddled mind.
Grinning, you save the link to the video. You know you'll be back.
Day 7
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The entire day, you've found it hard to focus. You've been thinking about the video more and more often the longer you've gone without watching it.
That spiral, that voice, they just seem to beckon you. Those fleeting memories, feelings... You've been able to piece them together more now. You were a puppy, a brainless, happy animal. You crawled around, did tricks, panted and barked. Ordinarily you'd find it embarrassing.
You don't, though.
It was a nice break, being a puppy. Not having to think about your job, your worries, your cares. You just got the chance to bliss out and enjoy the feeling of being cared for, being told what to do, not having to stress for once.
You walk into your room, resolute. You're going to watch the video again. You need to know whether it was a fluke or not.
As you walk to your desk, without even really considering it, you pull your clothes off, sitting down naked. For a moment, you wonder why, but you remember the way that your clothes were disheveled last time. Of course. It makes sense for a puppy to be naked. Puppies aren't used to clothes. You're a good puppy.
...you stop, momentarily confused. Where did that come from?
Shaking your head, you click play on the video, and the spiral starts up again. This time the voice doesn't even say 5 words before you're drifting away.
You're so immediately out of it that you don't notice you were softly panting before the video even started.
DAY 30
You're barely even inside the door before you start ripping your clothes off, your hands paws clumsily pulling you free. A few weeks ago, you would have at least worried that the neighbors would see you. Now, that thought doesn't even enter your mind.
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You drop to your knees all fours where a good puppy belongs and crawl to your living room, where you've set the spiral up on your TV. You're already panting and wiggling with excitement.
In your hazy head, you still can't believe that you managed to work up the courage to message the creator of the video Master. He was so understanding and nice! He called you a good puppy for being able to type out that whole message with your hands paws, and he even started making some special videos for you! You can't help but wag your butt tail at the thought of having such a nice new friend Master.
The spiral starts up, and you're already gone. Plopping down in a perfect sit position like you've been trained to do, tongue out, happily staring and letting your mind be coaxed and teased away by Master.
You know what you are now. You've heard it over and over again. You're a puppy. A dumb dim doggy pet. You love to crawl. You love to bark. You love to play and do tricks and get belly rubs and treats.
When you finally squeaked out a blushing request to see the man behind the voice, Master very kindly obliged. And it was then that you learned something very special about being a puppy.
You go into heat very easily.
It wasn't long before you were whimpering and begging on a video call, Master chuckling as you bounced up and down on a dildo, a rubber bone between your teeth to match the one you were riding.
Wasn't long before you were panting over pictures and videos of his cock, sliding in and out of a pocket pussy held in his strong hand, while his deep calming voice whispered into your mind that it should be you there taking his dick into every one of your happy puppy holes.
Lost in adoration and arousal, you barely even realize that the spiral has ended. You have commands you don't remember receiving. You no longer want to resist them. You don't remember ever wanting to resist them.
You crawl to your cell phone, laying on the floor. You open it and type in a number you don't recognize with your paws. You mindlessly bark into the receiver. And you hear the voice you love so much.
"Good dog! Sit tight, girl. I'm gonna come get you, okay?"
You don't even hear the last part. As soon as the words "good dog" hit your ears, you were already cumming your mind away.
DAY ???
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You sleepily rise from your bed in the den, stretching out and yawning, flexing your paws. You shake your head, trying to clear it, the tag on your collar jingling. You're so thoroughly conditioned that even that little sound sends a wave of emptiness and pleasure through your head, and you press your pussy against the rough fabric of your bed, humping brainlessly.
Your sleepy mind registers the sound of the front door opening, and you bolt out of bed, leaving behind a dripping wet spot that you'll come back to idly sniff and lick at later. Master is home!
Barking, you scamper into the living room on all fours, the tail plug in your ass swishing from side to side as you rush to Master's side, pressing your cheek against his leg and panting happily.
He smiles, scritches you in your favorite spot behind your ears, and says some words that you no longer understand. Somewhere in the sounds falling from his lips are the words "good girl", though, so you cum unthinkingly, automatically, with a whimper. Like a good, well-trained puppy.
As the glow fades, you can't help but press your chest to the floor, hiking your rump in the air, staring at him pleadingly and swaying your tail back and forth. You need a treat so bad... You were a good dog and waited all day... And Master seems to understand.
He chuckles, and as per your daily welcome-home ritual, he unzips his pants to reveal your favorite treat. That dick that broke you. The cock that helped you realize your place, owned and collared. No past, no future, no stress, no worry. You almost cum again at the sight of it as you sit pretty, just as you were taught.
Teasingly, Master waves that perfect cock in front of your face, the scent of it doing nothing to stem the flow of your drool onto the floor. He's making the sound that means "wait", and so you do. You're a good dog.
He snaps his fingers, and your mind disappears.
And as you eagerly pounce, slobbering and licking over Master's cock and looking up at him with empty, adoring eyes, you know for certain that you've never been happier.
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Reminder
DID isn't just having fun people in your head
Along with shifts in personality, it's often times:
amnesia: 'waking up' with no memory of what's going on
travelling and having no idea where you are or how you got there
dizziness
confusion
spacing out
headaches
feeling broken & worthless
fear
not knowing why or how you're wearing what you're wearing
nausea
pain
anxiety
finding things amongst your belongings you don't remember acquiring
time loss
depression
suicidal ideation & action
spikes in inexplicable emotion, especially anger, fear, and shame
body and voice dysphoria
depersonalization & derealisation
loss of control
hearing voices
finding injuries you don't remember getting
self harm
not recognising friends/family/colleagues
forgetting important events (birthdays, parties, graduations etc)
mood shifts with seemingly no trigger
finding notes in similar handwriting but something about it is slightly off
flashbacks: somatic flashbacks, nightmares, split second flashbacks to 'little things' but not getting more detail
bed wetting
age regression
inadvertently lying, or being questioned if you have
feeling like your body isn't yours
knowing something is wrong, but not what
wondering why your body doesn't align with your perceived sex (for alters whose gender/sex don't align with the body)
watching your body do things and having no control over it (feeling like a puppet or like playing a video-game in 3rd person)
mass fluctuations in libido: fluctuations from hypersexual to zero sexual desire
not being sure if things really happened, or whether you imagined/thought about them
identity confusion
+ many more
I have two book recommendations DID experiences: "All Of Me" by Kim Noble, and "The Girl in The Green Dress" by Jeni Haynes. Please check trigger warnings.
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moonsaver · 3 months ago
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Where the Lamb does not Belong.
You're isekai'd into the world of Honkai Star Rail. Thankfully, you're taken into the Astral Express and continue your journey peacefully, until you reach Penacony. Something, or someone, seems to be causing your system to continually crash. Perhaps it's because you did not belong here at all.
Warnings: yandere, obviously. Uh, mentioned fracture(?)
A/n; reader is a tad forgetful and can brush off a few things, and get distracted slightly easily. But for the most part, i think it won't ruin the immersion. Its my first time writing something "self aware" related, and something like a character breaking the 4th wall. I really love these tropes but rarely write them. I hope i did it well. Its roughly 4.5k long. Enjoy.
----
“Ace!”
“It's not ace.”
“Uno!”
“March, you're supposed to say it after you put down your second card.”
“Oh, sure.”
“March, it's not your turn.”
“Huh?!”
You giggle, listening in on their banter. You're leaned up comfortably on Dan Heng's back, messing around with a level on Stelle's phone she hasn't been able to beat.
You hear a loud groan, a fwop as March drops on her back onto the bed,
“This is so confusing!”
“The rules are simple, you're just trying to rush things.”
Dan Heng takes the cards and settles them, tapping them vertically to level and gather them onto the little table. You stretch your neck to look back and catch a glimpse of March sulking. Stelle gently pries the phone out of your hands as you do so.
“Hey let's go through our photo album again!”
“It's the 6th time this month.”
You chuckle, getting up from Dan Heng's back as you feel him shift, moving over to situate yourself around the table aswell, the the bed dipping under your weight.
“I knew you were into photography but wow, this is something, March.”
You say, leaning over on the table, your elbow resting on it as your chin rests on your palm,
“Well, you better be grateful ‘cause I just finished up your entry!”
“My entry?”
You blink, confused,
“She's been dutifully taking pictures of your progress as a new member of the Astral express. I've.. learnt from experience It's better that you don't try to stop her.”
You laugh awkwardly, staring down as March excitedly flips through the photo book. It's a bit embarrassing now that you recall.
“Here! Look, look, look! I caught [name] in all their glory!”
“March..”
You awkwardly laugh, as Dan Heng looks over at the photo March points to in her photobook, 
You cringe as you see your own expression, dull and groggy, a stark contrast to the bright letters and stickers decorating the edge of the photo that's glued tightly onto the page. You're drooling, to top it off.
“Hehe, [name] looks cute here don't they?!”
March points down to another photo right below, blurry in the midst of action. Your hazy figure is sitting up on a bed, Stelle draped over your lap while in charge of watching over you when you first appeared.
“I should have stayed to watch over, instead.”
Dan Heng comments under his breath, glancing back momentarily at Stelle, her chin hooked over his shoulder after having abandoned the game, seemingly more interested in the collection.
You chuckle softly,
Where did it begin exactly?
You boarded as an official member of the Astral Express about a few months ago, a gold brooch handed over to you, and many new faces who welcomed you onboard. You remember being home one day, going to sleep and hoping, just hoping that all of your worries and stress would just.. disappear. Your head hit the pillow and then-
You woke up. Here.
Suddenly you woke up in the very game you played to relieve your stress. Ironically, that moment you woke up was one of your most stressful memories, panicking at the situation you were in–
“Aw, dang it. I got defeated.”
All of you look over to Stelle, and to the red screen on her phone. You chuckle, as March sighs and shifts the topic.
You yawn and settle back onto the bed, leaning on a pile of pillows as March and Dan Heng continue their banter, taking this time to go through your stats, swiping and tinkering on your phone.
You've reached a higher level now. Having unlocked many items and even levelled up some basic features which allowed you to at the very least, defend yourself.
You read through the archived stories, gazing over all the past dialogue you've shared with this trio from the “main quest” ever since you boarded. Your friendship level with many had increased gradually over time, and shot up with the trio, as expected.
“[Name]..”
Stelle whines, pushing her phone back to you. You giggle, taking the device from her hands,
“Alright, I won't get distracted this time.”
-
This was your first expedition as a new member of the Astral Express. Which didn't help considering you were going into Penacony of all places.
You were nervous – how was your presence going to alter the timeline? Maybe a less “on screen” role like Himeko's? Or maybe you should have just stayed back with Dan Heng? But the experience, materials and all sorts of gizmos Penacony was going to offer.. It was too tempting.
And here you are, in the lobby. Himeko and Welt continue negotiating with the young woman at the reception. You were already on edge, but it seemed things just had to go wrong as well.
To distract yourself, you fidgeted and anxiously viewed the prologue to Penacony the system had just offered to you, repeatedly scrolling up and down on your phone, tapping your foot, pacing around the hotel a bit when–
A hand came up to your shoulder.
“It seems you're quite worried.”
You looked back.
It's Robin.
“Sorry, uh, we're.. having difficulty with the check-in and..”
You momentarily trail off, almost lost as you look at Robin. Her in game model was beautiful, but now that you're standing in front of her, it's almost.. mesmerising. Her eyes are beautiful – deep and ethereal. Pretty pink lips and softly dusted cheeks, her hair wispy and framing her face just the right way. You're awestruck for a moment, before panicking and snapping out of your daze.
You're at a hotel lobby for aeons’ sake!
“O-Oh, uh, my family is–”
You turn over to see Himeko and Welt continuing to go back and forth with the young woman at the reception, and turn again to see March and Stelle slightly off in the corner talking anxiously.
“They seem lovely.”
Robin smiles at you. And suddenly, your eyebrows and shoulders relax. Your jaw slightly slacks. Something about Robin seems to soothe you more than you ever thought.
Your eyes trail over to the bar in the corner;
Friendship level: 0
Right. She's still a stranger, in this timeline of events.
You're snapped out of your thoughts momentarily as another, unfamiliar voice speaks up from the crowd – a blonde man, addressing your fellow trailblazers.
This can't be good.
You walk up, regrouping with March and Stelle as they watch it all happen.
The golden hour was a familiar map to you, particularly because you'd loved exploring the place back when you used to play.
But actually being there is stunning.
The yellow lights brighten up the night-like atmosphere in a beautiful, classy way. It's almost as though you're in an old film, the way everything around you is hazy and glowing. There's laughter in the background and shimmering lights somewhere in the distance, drinks and the smell of food occasionally wafting in the air from corner cafés or so. You wander, awestruck at the sight of the landscape when–
You bump into someone, a small sound leaving you at the impact.
You look back to take a look at the stranger - more to try and ground yourself into this “dream” and your current reality. You were in Penacony. And all of this was physically interacting with you, regardless of how miniscule you must be. Whether you would have been reincarnated as a Cafe owner, or an NPC, or anyone else. As long as you were on Penacony, you were going to be a part of Sunday's grand plan.
You zone out, the hazy cacophony of ecstasy in the background blurring in the crowded space of your mind, thoughts overarching and bubbling up.
Beep!
You look at your phone, buzzing as quests pop up. You take a moment to look around the various shops, before your eyes land on a cozy cafe.
It won’t hurt to rest for a moment.
“Shit, shit, shit..”
You curse to yourself, frantically tapping on the screen and trying to fix this mess.
“Just– cooperate damn it..!”
Your teeth gnaw at your lip, biting and peeling off bits of the skin. It stings, but in your anxious state, you barely pay mind,
Why was the system not cooperating with you?!
None of your teleportation points worked, you weren't levelling up, barely any of the trinkets given by completion of quests were being used up! It was rudimentary junk in your inventory and now for some god awful reason, your entire system was going haywire!
System error: freespace is occupied!
System error: unavailable tab
System error: unable to access tab
System error: unable to complete..
“Yeah, yeah I got it you little-”
“Is something the matter?”
You gasped under your breath, a chill shooting up your spine as you turn around,
“No, no! Nothing, haha just.. uh..”
You awkwardly shuffle, pretending to look into your bag,
“You seem to be having trouble.”
Sunday's poised figure contrasts your sweaty, nervous, fidgeting one, as you only panic more at his words.
“Oh, just.. well.. it’s my first time visiting another world, so..”
“Ah, first time jitters? I’m faintly familiar.”
You chuckle awkwardly, but your humour doesn't seem to be exactly matched. Sunday’s smile doesn't widen or lessen, and neither does he chuckle. You realise how uncanny he looks in the dim lights of the Golden Hour barely illuminating his face in the alley.
“You seem to have been separated from your group. Would you like me to accompany you on your way back?”
“Sure–”
Warning: you are currently interacting with an influential figure. Proceed with caution.
“..you seem hesitant.”
You look at the glaring notification on your screen - akin to when an amber alert pops up, or when an earthquake warning resounds.
“..uh, I think.. I’ll be able to find them on my own. I should be fine.”
“I insist. As the representative and Spokesperson of The Family it is my duty to ensure the safety and relaxation of guests in the Dreamscape.”
Shit. This guy isn’t giving in.
You hesitate, a bead of sweat forming on your forehead and grazing the top of your eyebrow,
Beep!
Optional: would you like dialogue suggestions to be displayed?
[Yes]
[No]
[No – do not ask again]
You sigh internally. At least this system knows how to assist you when you need it.
“Shall we?”
Sunday beckons you to follow, as the pop-up blinks away, before you get the chance to select.
There’s no getting out of this. You’re just gonna have to suck it up and be careful.
“..sure.”
-
Sunday doesn’t remember when it exactly began.
Strange patterns, predictable dialogues, and the anomalies that occured..
Right after Sunday discovered your name.
He watched as the cup from the trash pile slipped and fell onto the pavement. Your name was written on it – messily and hurried. The cup rolls down a bit before hitting the side of his shoe. Sunday watched it with indifference, opting to simply move it aside before he spotted it. Your name. But it wasn’t supposed to be.
An alias? Maybe. It was different than the name administered in your profile. 
He opted to push it back for later; but it was an interrupted thought as he walked ahead and watched you fiddle around with your phone, buzzing constantly as you cursed at it.
He breathes out, before deciding to approach you.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
You respond, your eyes embarrassed and watching the various shuffling of feet in front of you, the crowd forming in front of the Rollercoaster you were too scared to go on.
Well, it's rather you haven't been able to go onto them.
Stelle and March offered you to join, and usually you'd be able to accept the invitation pop up, but as of recent, your system has been going haywire. The system probably narrowed down the scenarios you'd be allowed to participate in,in order to control the situation.
So you stood there, your mood dampened as you accepted that the system would not allow you to partake in the ride with your friends, shaking your head and telling them to go on instead, leaving you behind.
And Sunday saw all of it.
Or rather, just that you haven't gone onto the ride.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“No, nothing like that.”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. Even if you were.. he's not exactly the person you'd tell it to, anyway. You ignore the buzzing of your phone as it displays the same warning, jaded and moody as you'd been denied a great opportunity to have fun.
“..there is a new bakery that's opened up in the corner. Would you like to visit?”
You blink, and look at him, confused. He seems to have understood your confusion, and follows up,
“Until your companions have had their fill. Just for a cup of coffee.”
You hesitate, humming in contemplation. You look at the options displayed;
Options:
 □ “Sure. Let's go.”
 □ “sorry, my husband's waiting for me on the express.
 □ “No thank y–
 System Error: no options available
You sigh. You really need to do something about these errors. You nod,
“Sure. Let's go.”
The bakery was warm, and lively. As soon as you entered, the faintly sweet smell of pastries and the waft of coffee enveloped you two. You gawked at the mesmerising scenery, while Sunday asked for an available booth that's more hidden from the public eye.
The seats were soft, and pliable as you took your seat, still taking in the view of the bakery. You hear Sunday clearing his throat and tapping the table, your gaze shifting to him. He points to the menu. You understand his cue and take to reading it, your eyes scanning the plethora of options as Sunday does the same.
“Have you.. been here before?”
“I have visited once in the past. With my sister.”
“Ah, how is Robin?”
Your eyes settle on a particular option, as the silence between you two fills with comfortable conversation,
“She has been well. Are you looking forward to her performance at the coming Festival?”
You blink as you realise. How could you forget? The entire reason you and the rest of the crew even came to Penacony! This was the guy who was gonna put everyone into a coma!
“O-Oh, uh, yes! March has been talking non-stop about it, so..”
You chuckle awkwardly, flustered as he caught you a bit off guard. He hums, his face indifferent and neutral as your words process in his mind.
“I suppose I shall expect you in the audience, then?”
“March will drag me to the front, so you'll probably get a clear view of me in my uncomfortable glory.”
That seems to elicit a small, soft chuckle from him, as his eyes land on a specific item on the menu, seeming to have decided his own liking.
“Very well. I'll look forward to it.”
Soon enough, a waitress comes up to the table, and begins taking your orders.
“It does seem a tad scary, but the view is always beautiful in the Astral express.”
“I'm sure of it. It sounds wonderful.”
Sunday listens to you dutifully, as you continue talking. Somewhere along the way, your discomfort at the awkward silence between you two led to you talking and filling in the silence, your coffee cup hanging idly in your hands. One thing led to another, as both of you started talking about your childhood memories, tea flavours, desserts, and so on. You find Sunday has been easy to converse with. You'd been ignoring the constant buzzing of your phone – most likely achievements or quests that popped up constantly wherever you went.
You take another sip from your coffee as Sunday takes his initiative to talk, listening to him well, and chuckling slightly at one or the other thing. 
“I came to know tea is supposed to be made with hot water, but by then I'd gotten accustomed.”
You giggle, slightly in disbelief,
“Well, do you like iced tea now?”
Sunday shakes his head,
“I prefer coffee, more than that. Perhaps due to needing it more than a preference..”
His eyes trail to your cup, as you hold it in your hands. You follow his gaze,
Is something wrong? He'd been glancing at your cup a few times now, but you didn't comment on it before.
“Is.. something wro–”
Your words are cut off as your phone loudly rings, making you almost fumble and drop your coffee as you hurriedly take your phone.
It's March!
Crap, you forgot.
“Sorry, I uh..”
You scroll through the plethora of notifications, almost all of them missed calls and various texts.
“It seems your companions were searching for you.”
You look up, as Sunday looks into the distance, Stelle and March running towards you.
It was strange how things progressed since you came to Penacony.
Some of your equipment took ages to level up, the others taking barely anything before they hit their maximum level. Your friendship level progressed pretty highly on some days, and barely moved an inch on other days. 
Your friendship level with Sunday, on the other hand, shot up to a 5. Not even anyone on the Astral Express had that level.
You only noticed it a fraction before you cleared all your notifications at once, swiped away before your finger had the chance to tap on it. 
Regardless, that wasn’t your exact concern as of late. The story of Penacony had been well under way now, and things were starting to pick up. 
As of recent, you haven't been able to remember the quest contents as much as you used to, only remembering enough in the last moment to avert an extremely bad decision – at least for yourself. Your own personal missions left you alive by a hair's breadth.
But if that didn't upset you – your crew did. The pressure of everything happening on Penacony seemed to have started to weigh down on your team, as they barely regard you anymore. You could technically blame it on the system – it's been trying desperately to revive and fix itself as the game progresses. You might be interfering with the inner workings, so you suppose it's only natural the game tries to limit your interactions with the world.
So for the most part, you've resigned yourself to be an NPC; walking around all of the tourist attractions, getting who knows how many cups of coffee, trying on various clothing items, and occasionally running into Sunday. The first few times, you awkwardly fiddled with your phone for optional dialogues, but as time went on, you felt more comfortable. Regardless, it's not like anything you say can technically avert him from his current plan. It's been in the schemes for who knows how long? As of now, it's less complicating to remain ignorant and act unknowing, and enjoying another walk with him as he surveys the Dreamscape. Considering how close you two might be getting, you'll probably end up telling him a few secrets from your past.
-
“The Grand theatre is Penacony’s main attraction.”
Sunday’s face is illuminated by it in the distance, as he stands, staring at it. His voice is barely audible, seemingly as if he speaks to himself. But that idea is swept under the rug the moment he turns slightly to you.
When was this cutscene? You curse your memory, the fog of your mind still not cleared from when you first came to this world,
“Have you decided to attend?”
Truthfully, you didn’t want to. Considering the story, you actually knew the event wasn’t going to happen. But in the case it did..
Options:
 □ “Ill be there first in line to enter.”
 □ “Im thinking about it.”
 □ “probably not..”
“..I have.”
You hesitantly answer.
“You haven’t made up your mind.”
Sunday states, more as a fact than a question. You can’t blame him, considering the hesitance apparent in your voice.
“..out of everyone, I’d hoped you would have attended.”
The options flicker and appear, but before you can press and respond, he continues,
“I understand. How has your family been?”
He turns to face you, you stay silent for a moment, before humming and clicking on an option,
 □ “They’re alright.”
□ “I hope they’re all okay.”
 □ “I wouldn’t really know..”
“Ah, uh.. we’re all kind of in our separate ways right now, so.. I wouldn’t really know.”
“I see.”
Both of you stand in silence, as you follow his gaze to the glowing theatre. After a moment, Sunday breaks his silence,
“When I was a child, I was particularly soft-spoken. Back then, Robin used to stand up for me frequently.”
Your ears perk up slightly. Is he talking about a childhood memory right now?
“One day, she wasn’t around, taking a few extra music lessons. The other kids were simply curious enough to take me in.”
You hum, listening to him intently. Your eyes gaze over his features – softly shaded by the cold light of the theatre, and illuminated by the yellow lights of the path.
“We were all kids. One of them pulled and broke my wing that day.”
You gasp, involuntarily. Ouch.
But sunday only chuckles at your reaction, his eyes downwards and distant. You don't think he finds it funny.
“But do you know? Right after that - they visited me. Day after day. Every step of recovery. Every recess when I had to sit back, they accompanied me. I thought about it recently. Humanity is worth saving.”
You stay silent, before smiling. The silence seems pleasant over you two, as you stare at the Grand Theatre in the distance.
“That, is when human spirit and strife first piqued my interest.”
You blink, and turn to look at him, the smile on your face faltering,
“What must the weak, the misfortunate, and the falsely accused do to gain balance within this world?”
You’re left speechless for a moment. It seems even the system cannot exactly provide you any dialogue options, as you glance over to your phone.
“..balance in the world isn’t achievable, which is why the human spirit strives to fix it.”
You stay silent, listening to him.
“Would a bird that cannot fly be allowed to, simply because it yearns to? Would it be righteous of you, or of the bird, to allow the freedom and death of the vast sky? Is it still righteous, if you withhold its freedom?”
He inhales, slowly, speaking in a low voice, wavering.
“Is death the only comprehensible freedom life offers, beside slumber, to the weak? Is that truly freedom?”
Sunday turns to look at you – his golden eyes almost searing into your soul.
You break out into a sweat, panicking as you check your phone, desperately trying to find an option when–
 System Error: options not available
Shit, shit, shit. Holy crap. Can you even speak right now?
You're left silently staring at Sunday. He stares back before resigning to quietly look away.
You should leave.
Your memory seems to be strangely affected – either because you haven't been able to adjust to the new world, or you just haven't been able to adapt to Penacony.
You groan and slump into the couch of your room, in the real world. You keep forgetting to charge your phone – which isn't technically a hassle; you can access the same menu options, it's just more.. time-consuming. Not to mention you lose your only source of dialogue option pop ups.
How long has this been going on? You knew Penacony had a vast and complicated storyline, but living it feels entirely different. Feeling it is entirely bizarre. No wonder your head's spinning.
But thankfully, it should end soon. Your last quest is to face off Sunday in his boss form. You and your members have decided to meet up at the Grand Theatre, where the event will take place.
You place your phone into charging, and right on cue, March pops up into your room. She stumbles around your room a bit the moment you turn your back, even hear her drop and accidentally knock over some items on her way, simply laughing at the girl, as you continue packing up and preparing for the final “showdown”. You disregard her words, when she tells you she felt something push her.
-
You're not sure when the next cutscene plays.
You're in the grand theatre; just having defeated Sunday, and collectively waiting to return to the Astral Express. This is when you meet Boothill and Black Swan, where she wakes you up using Misha as a fallacy within Ena's dream.
But you aren't waking up.
You've just been stranded in the empty grand theatre after the darkness lifted.
You try to turn your phone on – but its busted. March must have disconnected the plug when she stumbled across a few things.
You sigh, irritated and antsy, choosing to walk ahead and look warily at the mechanical statues. The quest description is empty; devoid of any explanation. The title is vague and doesn't indicate much. Are you stuck in the loading screen? What the hell is going on?
And just as you are about to shout out for help – Sunday appears. There he is, on the stage. But this time, there's no spotlight. He stares down at you, emptily. You're creeped out for the lack of a better word, feeling your skin crawl with every second he stares. The silence is paper thin and thickly dense at the same time; electrified with tension and the unknown.
He makes the first step, slowly descending down and towards you.
“You are an outsider.”
System error: cannot process dialogue
“You do not belong here.”
System error: cannot proceed further
“I do not belong here.”
System warning: further interaction in this context may lead to irreversible da–
Sunday's hand rips through the warning, causing it to glitch violently, and disappear. You're scared, your throat constricting and your heart almost lurching out of your chest as he continues walking towards you, eyes searing into your soul,
“We do not belong here.”
Beep!
 Options:
 □ We do not belong here
 □ I do not belong here
 □ You do not belong here
 □ We belong together
 ■ There is nothing else left for you here. You cannot turn back. There is no other option.
The screen glitches out, as Sunday stands before you, his hand reaching out,
“Tell me. What is your name?”
You can't access anything – the menu, the quests, your inventory, nothing. You stare almost endlessly in horror, as Sunday speaks of your real name.
You shouldn't have used it on that coffee cup.
-
900 notes · View notes
rottenfyre · 8 days ago
Text
⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻
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Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader Part 3
Summary: Alicent was pregnant and now you have a brother... Great between this mess now you have to deal with a child.
Warning: Y/n herself is a warning.
Notes: English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me, credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!
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The corridors of the Red Keep felt more stifling than usual as Y/n made her way toward Alicent’s chambers, her father’s summons echoing in her mind. It was laughable, truly. After all, why would she, of all people, care to see this child—a replacement, a crude shadow of what should have been her true brother, born to her beloved mother?
When she arrived, Rhaenyra was already there, standing near the bed where Alicent lay cradling the newborn. Rhaenyra’s face twisted briefly as she took in the sight, her discomfort poorly veiled. Y/n caught her sister’s eye just before Rhaenyra turned and, with a cold glance, left the room, practically fleeing. Smart, Y/n thought, suppressing a smile. She could almost admire her sister’s decisiveness. She, however, would stay. There was something strangely… satisfying in seeing Alicent lying there, pale and weak, her hair clinging to her forehead with sweat, her whole appearance a fragile mess. She look miserable.
“Y/n, my daughter,” her father’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Won’t you come closer?”
She looked up at him, feeling that familiar pang of resentment, but she crossed the room slowly, each step heavy with her reluctance. Alicent looked at her with a forced smile, and Y/n barely resisted rolling her eyes. Her father gestured for her to approach even closer.
“Come,” he said, a faint hint of warmth in his tone. “Look at your brother.”
Y/n’s face twisted involuntarily, her lips pulling back in thinly veiled disgust. Brother? She didn’t see any reason to indulge in this charade. But, as her father’s eyes settled on her, full of an expectation she knew she couldn’t ignore, she sighed and leaned in to peer at the squirming bundle in Alicent’s arms.
The first sight of the child made her flinch. What… in all the Seven Hells is this? The baby’s face was scrunched and red, his tiny hands wriggling pathetically. She could barely suppress her grimace as she looked down at him. Why is it so… ugly? Is this actually what babies look like? Or is it just… this one? She felt a shudder run down her spine, her lips curling as though she’d just seen something grotesque.
“Well?” her father asked, watching her closely. Y/n looked up at him, raising an eyebrow in exasperation, unable to mask her distaste.
Viserys chuckled softly, clearly amused by her reaction. “I thought you’d be excited,” he said, his tone mild but firm. “You always used to talk about naming your little brother, remember?”
"Y/n, what would you name him if he were a boy?" her mother asked, her voice light and playful, a smile dancing on her lips.
Y/n’s face lit up instantly. “Aegon,” she replied, no hesitation.
Aemma’s laughter was a gentle chime, full of love, as she tilted her head back, clearly charmed. "Aegon, hmm?" she repeated, her voice tender and a little amused. “A strong name—he would grow into it, I think.”
The response made Y/n puff up with pride. She let her hand rest over Aemma’s belly, pressing gently as though she could feel the baby within, envisioning a strong little boy who would one day grow up by her side, someone she would protect fiercely. In that moment, she felt certain she would love him more than anyone else.
Aemma leaned down and kissed Y/n’s forehead, stroking her cheek with soft fingers. “I think he would love you very much,” she murmured, her voice filled with a sweetness that warmed Y/n’s heart. “He would look up to you, my little girl.”
He was supposed to be my brother, Mother’s son… Not this. Not this… thing.
Her throat tightened, the painful memory clashing with the reality in front of her. Swallowing, she whispered, almost to herself, “…Aegon.” The name hung in the air, soft and sorrowful. She barely noticed as the baby’s eyes blinked open at the sound, a pair of startlingly bright, clear eyes—like polished jewels, unexpectedly beautiful in the midst of his otherwise unimpressive appearance.
But she felt nothing, no stir of affection or tenderness. The past had stayed buried until now, and she would not dig it up for this stranger. She pulled back, letting the revulsion return to harden her expression.
“Well, congratulations, Father,” she said, her voice back to its usual detached tone. She cast a long, deliberate glance at Alicent, her lips twitching with barely concealed disdain, before turning and striding toward the door.
As she left the room, she could still feel the ghostly twinge of her mother’s memory, lingering like a bad taste. Aegon, she thought bitterly, her fingers twitching in irritation. She could still feel the faint ache of holding onto that name, the name meant for a brother she had wanted.
Once she was back in her own chambers, she called for Elira. “Prepare me a bath,” she ordered, brushing a faint trace of blood from her fingers. “I need to wash off… whatever that was.” The sight of that child had left her feeling unclean, tainted by the memory and the reality. She sank into the hot water a moment later, letting the heat and steam blur the remnants of the day’s distaste.
As she sank deeper into the bath, she sighed, watching the water ripple around her. But no amount of scrubbing would erase that memory or the sour feeling twisting in her chest.
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Y/n walked through the Red Keep's sunlit corridors, her pale skirts sweeping the stone floors, the soft chittering of her monkey filling the silence. The little creature perched on her shoulder, its curious eyes darting around, occasionally reaching out to tug on a stray strand of her silver hair. She reached up absently to scratch behind its ear, murmuring, “You’re a clever little thing, aren’t you?”
The monkey blinked at her, tilting its head as though in agreement. Y/n allowed herself a small smile. A gift from Daemon. Her uncle’s face flickered in her mind, sharp and knowing. He’d always had a knack for giving her things that felt… personal, even if she doubted it at times. Where is he now? she wondered, a pang of curiosity laced with longing. He had always been unpredictable, always vanishing just when she began to feel comfortable. I hope he’s well… or at least happy with himself.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a faint tug on her skirt. She stopped mid-step, frowning, and glanced down. There it was: that ugly thing. looked up at her with wide, unsteady eyes, his chubby hands still gripping the fabric of her dress.
“What do you want now?” she muttered, pulling her skirt away sharply. She stepped forward, expecting him to let go, but he didn’t. Instead, he tottered after her, his tiny legs wobbling as he reached for her again.
“Ya—Ya—” he babbled, his mouth struggling to form the syllables of her name.
She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “Annoying little pest.” She continued walking, but he followed, his persistent baby babble echoing down the hall. His voice softened slightly, and then, clear as the bells of the Sept, she heard it:
“S-Sis…ter.”
She froze in place, her foot hovering above the first step of the grand staircase. Slowly, she turned to look down at him. His face was lit up with a bright, toothy smile, his tiny hands reaching for her skirt again as he repeated, “Sis...t-ter!”
Her eyes widened. Did he just say that? Her heart fluttered in an unfamiliar way, something small and sharp lodging itself deep in her chest. She stared at him, stunned, as he laughed again, his babyish giggles bubbling up like spring water.
“Do you want to ride on Syrax with me, sister?”
“Can you stay, sister? I feel lonely…”
“Don't worry sister, I will never leave you.”
“I love you, sister.”
Her throat tightened. The warmth of those memories twisted into something cold, a painful ache she could neither name nor shake. She felt herself soften, just slightly, as she gazed down at Aegon. So small, so innocent. A smile, faint and almost tender, touched her lips. “Aww,” she cooed softly, crouching down to his level. “You called me sister…”
Her hand reached out, gently brushing against his silver hair. He giggled again, his tiny hands batting at her fingers. For a moment, the warmth lingered, a fragile thread of something like affection.
She stared down at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. What a silly cute rat.
Before she could stop herself—before she even wanted to—she pushed him.
Aegon’s tiny body flew forward, tumbling down the stairs. His small arms flailed helplessly, his head bouncing off the stone steps with a sickening crack. His body twisted and rolled, limp and lifeless, until he finally hit the bottom with a heavy thud.
Y/n stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at the bloody mess below.
She tilted her head, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Is he dead? She wasn’t sure. Didn’t really care. The blood pooled around his little head, and for a moment, she thought he might be.
She didn’t move. Just stood there, watching. It was… amusing. Like watching a bug squirm after being squashed.
After a moment, she began to walk down the steps, her footsteps slow and deliberate. When she reached the bottom, she crouched beside his crumpled form, her eyes scanning the blood and the broken limbs. He wasn’t moving. His little chest wasn’t rising.
She leaned in close, her face hovering just above his.
“Are you still alive?” she whispered, her tone almost curious. She poked at his arm, but there was no response.
She smiled. Oh, well. If he was dead, he was dead. If not… well, that didn’t matter either.
Just as she was about to stand, she noticed a faint, shallow breath escape his lips.
“Oh, you’re alive,” she murmured, sounding more bored than surprised.
She stood up, dusting off her dress as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall. The maids rushed over, their faces pale with horror as they saw Aegon’s broken body lying at the foot of the stairs.
“Oh gods, what happened?” one of them gasped, falling to her knees beside him. “Someone fetch the maester!”
Y/n just watched, her expression flat. One of the maids glanced up at her, her eyes wide with shock.
“He fell, nothing to be worry about.” Y/n said simply, her voice devoid of any emotion. She could be careless.
Y/n stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched, her expression soft, as they lifted him and hurried away, calling for the maesters.
As they disappeared down the corridor, she turned away, a slight smile curling her lips. So much fuss over a little fall.
She turned and walked in the opposite direction, her mind already moving on to something else.
Aegon was just a pest. A nuisance. A stray animal that had wandered into her path.
Whether he lived or died, it didn’t matter.
It never mattered.
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Y/n sat in her chamber, the evening sunlight streaming in through the large arched windows, illuminating her collection of jewelry spread out across her vanity. Rings, necklaces, and bracelets, all glittering in gold and adorned with rubies and emeralds, caught her eye as she lazily picked one up after another, holding them against her neck to see how they looked. She glanced at her reflection, tilting her head slightly, her pale hair cascading over her shoulders. Perfect as always, she thought, fastening a necklace with a smirk.
Her peaceful vanity session was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps outside her chamber, followed by a sharp knock on the door. She sighed. What now?
“Princess,” a servant called from the other side. “The king has summoned you.”
Her smirk faded, replaced by a slight scowl. This better be good.
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When Y/n entered the room, the tension was palpable. Alicent stood to the side, her face streaked with tears. Otto loomed next to her, his expression dark and accusing. Rhaenyra was there too, standing stiffly, her eyes flicking between their father and Alicent. Maids huddled in the background, visibly uncomfortable, whispering among themselves. Her father, Viserys, was pacing, his face red with anger. Ah it's about that thing isn't it?
The second he saw her, his finger shot out, trembling with rage. “Y/n!” he barked. “Did you push your brother down the stairs?!”
Y/n blinked, her expression one of calculated confusion. “What?” she said, her voice calm but laced with just enough disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
Viserys stepped closer, his hand clenching into a fist. “Don’t play games with me, girl! Aegon was found at the bottom of the stairs, and you were seen leaving the scene! Did you do it?!”
For a moment, Y/n simply stared at him, her face blank, before she let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” she said smoothly. “I didn’t even know Aegon fell.”
Before Viserys could respond, Alicent burst into tears, her voice shrill and filled with accusation. “You did it! I know you did! You just want to see me suffer! You hate me, and that’s why you hurt my son!”
Y/n slowly turned her head toward Alicent, her expression shifting to one of pure disdain. She raised a brow, letting the silence hang for a moment before speaking, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “First,” she began, “I had completely forgotten your son even existed until now. So, congratulations, I suppose, for reminding me of his presence.” She folded her arms, her lip curling slightly. “And second, do you think you’re so important that I would go out of my way to hurt a child just to make you suffer? Who do you think I am?”
“Enough!” Viserys roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. He glared at Y/n, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Just answer the question! Did you push Aegon or not?”
Y/n sighed dramatically, her gaze flicking to Rhaenyra. “Why would I do that?” she said, her tone exasperated. “If anything, Rhaenyra has far more reason to harm him than I do. After all, he’s a danger to her claim to the throne.”
Rhaenyra’s head snapped up, her expression furious. “How dare you—”
“Enough!” Otto interrupted, stepping forward. “The maids saw you, princess. They’ve spoken. They said they saw you push him.”
They wouldn't dare.
Y/n's eyes narrowed slightly, but her face betrayed no fear. Instead, she turned her head slowly toward the maids, her gaze icy. “Is that so?” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “Well, it’s not good to lie. So go on. Tell everyone exactly what you saw.” Her lips curved into a small, taunting smile. “After all, I have nothing to hide.”
The maid who had spoken out visibly paled, her hands trembling as she clutched the hem of her apron. “I-I…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I saw n-nothing… I saw… nothing.”
Y/n’s smirk widened as she turned back to Alicent, her expression one of triumph. Alicent’s mouth opened as if to argue, but no words came out. Instead, she stood there, shaking with anger, her tears falling faster.
“Well,” Y/n said, turning her attention back to Viserys. “It seems I’ve been falsely accused. Again.” She tilted her head, her voice softening as she spoke to her father.
Viserys pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to maintain his composure. “Y/n…” he began, but she cut him off, her tone turning earnest.
“Father,” she said, her voice softening just enough to sound genuine, “I may not like his mother, but Aegon is my brother. My blood. A Targaryen. I would never do anything to harm our house or you. Surely you know that.”
Viserys stared at her for a long moment, his anger slowly fading into something more weary. He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a deep sigh. “Go,” he said finally, waving her off. “Just… go.”
Y/n inclined her head, a polite yet triumphant gesture, and turned to leave. As she walked away, the faintest hint of a smile played on her lips.
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She can hardly believe what she's hearing. Marriage? Her father, has finally gathered enough balls to declare that she, the most stunning creature in all the Seven Kingdoms, the one every man pines for, is to marry? And to whom, of all people? Jason Lannister. That smug, rotund swine who fancies himself fit to marry a dragon. He’s nothing more than a pig draped in Lannister red, prancing around as if his golden hair and his family's wealth could mask the stench of his arrogance.
Her lips curl with disgust as she eyes Jason standing beside her father, his bloated face gleaming with that ridiculous self-satisfied grin. Jason Lannister? Really? Her mind races. Does father think so lowly of me?
No, this cannot be. She will not be shackled to some pompous, fat fool with no fire in his veins, who has neither her wit nor her beauty. A thousand thoughts swarm her mind like angry hornets. She's a Targaryen—she deserves a dragon, a man with strength and fire, not some Lannister sheep dressed in silk. And, gods be damned, she should have a say in this. Am I not his daughter? Does he think me some meek lamb ready to be led to slaughter?
“I at least deserve a choice,” she spits out, her voice sharp as Valyrian steel, her violet eyes flashing as she meets her father's gaze. “I will not be sold off like some common whore to the highest bidder, to that... thing.” Her voice drips with contempt as she gestures toward Jason, whose smugness falters for a moment.
Viserys sighs, rubbing his temples, clearly exasperated by her defiance. She has rejected every man he's thrown her way, each one sent packing with his tail between his legs. None of them were worthy, none of them could hold her interest for longer than a passing glance.
“It’s time for you to marry,” Viserys says, his tone dangerously low, trying to assert his failing authority. “You’ve already rejected enough suitors. You cannot delay this any longer.”
She laughs, a sharp, mocking sound that fills the room. “And why him? Are there not better men out there, father? Men with some beauty? Perhaps Ser Criston Cole.” she said smirking as her eyes flicking to the knight who stands at the door, his eyes were avoiding her “I would gladly marry him.”
“He’s a knight!” Viesrys snapped, his voice tight with disbelief. “He has vows. He cannot marry you!”
She rolled her eyes, the barely suppressed anger on her tongue, tasting sharp and venomous. “So? That’s not my fault. I don’t care about his vows!” She said it with a defiant sneer, feeling some sort of satisfaction as his shock deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Good.
“Y/n—” Viserys begins, but she cuts him off, her words coming in a flood. “I’m to marry, fine! But to this creature?” Her voice rises with each word. “I deserve a man who looks like a god, who can make my blood run hot—”
“Enough!” Viserys roars, his face red with fury. She pauses, her mouth half-open, momentarily stunned into silence. He breathes heavily, trying to regain control. “You want a choice?” he hisses, and for a fleeting moment, hope blooms in her chest.
“Then choose. Jason Lannister… or your brother Aegon.” His next words strike her like a knife.
What? For a moment, she cannot process it. Did he just say...? Her brother, Aegon? Her mind stutters to a halt. The room seems to grow cold, the air thickening. She stands there, staring at her father, trying to comprehend the madness he just uttered.
Did she hear that right? Her brother Aegon? The boy who’s barely old enough to walk, let alone… marry? For a moment, she’s stunned into silence, the rare taste of shock on her tongue. It’s almost laughable, really. As if those are her only options? As if her father thinks she would actually choose between a lecherous pig and a babe still sucking on his wet nurse's tits?
The room seems to close in, the walls pressing tight around her. She watches Viserys and Jason turn to each other, discussing plans as if she’s no longer even present. As if she’s already chosen Jason. The bastard thinks he has her cornered, that her vanity will force her to choose the Lannister rather than bind herself to a boy not even out of his childhood.
“She’s strong-willed,” Viserys mutters, not bothering to lower his voice. “But with time, she’ll come to appreciate the stability you can offer her.”
Jason snorts, and she wants to claw his eyes out for daring to speak of her as though she’s a horse to be broken. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll learn her place soon enough,” he says, his voice dripping with smug confidence. “A Lannister knows how to handle a fiery wife.”
The audacity. She can barely restrain herself from lunging at him, tearing that pompous grin off his face. But no, she won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her rage. Instead, she lets it simmer inside, her mind racing.
But then it hits her—this is perfect. The corners of her lips twitch into a sly smile.
“Fine,” she says, her voice cutting through their conversation like a knife through flesh. Both men turn to her, blinking as if they’ve forgotten she’s there. She stands tall, her chin lifted, the ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. “I will marry Aegon.”
The look on Viserys’ face is priceless. His expression falls as if she’s slapped him. “What did you just say?” he asks, his voice low, incredulous.
“I said I will marry my brother Aegon,” she repeats, her tone mocking, triumphant. “Are you deaf, father?” She enjoys the way his face crumples, the way Jason's smug smile evaporates into a confused grimace. They did not expect this. They thought her pride, her vanity, would force her to pick Jason.
Did you really think you could corner me, father? she thinks, her eyes gleaming with triumph. You should know better by now.
Jason's face turns red with fury, the realization sinking in that he’s lost his prize. He looks like he’s about to argue, but she cuts him off with a sweet, sickly smile. “It seems you won’t be wedding me, after all, Jason. I suppose you’ll have to settle for some lesser creature.”
And with that, she turns on her heel and sweeps out of the room, leaving her father and that Lannister pig scrambling to piece together what just happened.
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Part 1. Part 2.
@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ
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mondaymelon · 1 year ago
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₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! | sagau lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: theme of obsessiveness, yandere (big surprise!!) lyney + wrio's part mentions past abuse, all the stuff that comes as a side to this au !! ngl neuvillette's part is pretty tame he's literally. just a guy (otter)
⤷ [ you, the heavenly being who created celestia itself, has descended upon teyvat in an earthly form. a god, or at least, theirs. ]
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— sagau!lyney has always lived to be beheld by the eye.
Displays of extravagance, bouquets of flowers and pairs of white doves fluttering from his finger tips. Yes, that was where he belonged, standing on his place at the center of the stage, bright lights fixed on his form as he swept in his arm in a wide bow towards his beloved audience. Listening to their adoring cheers and drinking it all in - their support, the fame, their fanatic attention.
Attention was always something he had yearned for. Cold days exist in his memory, where he wandered the street aimlessly, pale skin littered with growing purple bruises, his only refuge the light tug of Lynette's soot-stained hands clinging onto what rags he wore. In those times, he remembers, a faint voice from above, angelic and holy, soft and compassionate.
A voice that was, in fact, yours. You had stared with wide eyes at your device as the cutscene began, instantly overcome with emotion. "Lyney, Lynette... was this how you had been living? Goddamn, I know every character in this game has a tragic backstory, but look at them!! They're... they're precious!! Wahhh, I want to take you in... Lyney, you better come home..." They were merely throwaway comments that you had blurted out in the shelter of your room, absolutely fixated on their pretty character designs and the dwindling number of primogems your inventory held. Not only had you lost the 50/50 to Qiqi herself, you were now nearing hard pity, and the charming magician was still nowhere in sight. You shut your eyes "Ah... Lyney, how come you-"
Light flickered before your closed eyelids, and you felt the wind tug at your body. Your stomach lurched, oh shit, were you falling..?
"-won't..."
Someone caught you with ease, swift and capable arms holding you, one supporting your back and the other hefting both your legs. Twinkling purple eyes met yours. "Ah, are you alright?" You quickly shook your head, too shaken to speak words at the moment. Surveying your surroundings only brought another wave of confusion - strange buildings, glittering blue lakes and trees, an unfamiliar landscape... Your gaze shifted, and you caught the sight of uncanny ash blond hair, and the hat that sat atop it. Lyney?
He hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you've just fallen from the sky." There was no way in mistaking his voice. "Is there an explanation behind that, or...?"
"I...I- I don't know why I'm here...!" You stuttered, and he visibly flinched at your voice, eyes widening. Shit, had you done something wrong? You trembled in his arms, attempting to stand by yourself, but he wouldn't let you move from his grasp.
"I see." His voice was quiet, now, and came in a single breath. His pupils shook as he closed his eyes in a smile. "Then, shall I bring you somewhere where you'll be safe?"
His heart was racing, pounding against his chest, and he could hardly breath, instead taking in short, desperate little gasps that did little to keep him standing. You.
It was a voice he swore he'd never let escape his recollection, and now there was a face, and touch to pair it with. He smile widened, and his eyes shined with pure ecstasy. It was you, in the flesh, his archon, his god, the highest being. Your body was holy, and he longed to praise it, his dark heart being cleansed just by bathing in your presence. Yet you seemed so fragile in his arms, how cute... it wouldn't be fair to keep you to himself, but being selfish is what allowed him to get this far. Like a songbird in a cage, he'd trap you, admire you, worship you.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you could feel his smile's sweet grow more sickening every beat of silence that passed. "No, What? I-"
His hand struck the back of your neck. Your voice died as your eyes fluttered shut. And in that moment Lyney pressed a kiss to both of your closed lids, a tender touch that one might describe as "loving", but what truly lie beneath it was far more twisted. His heart beat only for you, and red flushed across his cheeks.
"There's no need to worry, my eminence. I'll put on a show, just for your delight." ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!neuvillette has always yearned for warmth.
A warmth is not present in the courts of Fontaine. There, it is cold, sharp, the biting frigidness numbing the hearts of people - those who stand before him in trial, and those who watch with glee in the crowd, awaiting his final verdict with bated breaths.
Neuvillette was most renowned for his judgement. But it was his own that was a critical flaw. For what truly was judgement? Had he been justified in casting a murderer, in some eyes, but a hero in others, into the Fortress of Meropide? A mere child, who just sought for warmth, just as he had? He fears his heart has also grown cold and indifferent to the world, and he despises himself for it.
Was it not your warm hand that stroked him lovingly so back then, a quiet, soothing touch that swept away the tears and the salt that clung to his cheeks? Was it not your voice who called out to him on those ever so lonely nights, humming an otherworldly tune as your ghostly visage wiped the sorrow that flowed his downcast eyes? Yes, truly. It was your warmth that caused his eyes to glow anew, your warmth that allowed his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears to flush with contentment.
"Oh, wise ludex! This man is a murder! He stole not only my mother's assets, but my mother's life!" The crowd gasped at the dramatic declaration, their gazes shifting back and forth, from the perpetrator to the "witness." "I will dearly miss her... this man, no, this monster, took my mother away by hitting her over the head with none other than a bludgeon!"
Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Mr... Lucas."
"Y-Yes, ludex?"
"It was never disclosed to the public of what weapon the killer used."
The crowd erupted into a series of sharp inhales, surprised noises muffled by a hand over the mouth, round eyes as large as dinner plates, and frantic head turning. Journalists scribbled frantically in their notebooks, sweat pouring from their faces as they stumbled upon their newest cash cow.
"The verdict. Mr. Lucas is found to be guilty."
And they cheered. For what? Neuvillette narrowed his eyes just a fraction, his displeasure rising. They knew nothing. They were just mindless puppets, willing themselves to follow the sway of the crowd, praising and applauding something that naught needed its praise.
A sensation came over him, like the soft caress and flutter of an angel's wings or a soft, sweet sigh escaping from pouting, half-opened lips. The man snapped his head up, hearing the glass behind him shatter and plummet downwards like crystal raindrops, but what verily sent his heart apounding was the sight of a figure, dressed in heavenly silks, bathed in golden light, and descending into the courtroom. He drank it all in with a bated breath, hearing that for once, the crowd was silence.
You landed in his arms. Beautiful. He almost didn't dare move with you in his arms, in fear of his legs giving way underneath him. Your head lulled into his chest, eyes shut, and your pure, unbridled warmth finally met him, finally doused him in its prescence.
"Your... your eminence..." His voice was a mere echo, quiet, containing little sound at all. "I..."
"To you who has granted me such the blessing of warmth, I shall repay with all of my heart." ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!wriothesley has always wanted... someone to hold him.
It's a selfish thing to long for, and a silent one. Who would pay any heed to a duke's ramblings? Love's a thought that he's never quite fully digested, almost as if he can't truly believe it exists. Of course, he's seen Fontaine's couples, strolling up and down the street, hand-in-hand, yet questions himself in what makes them able to love each other. Perhaps it wasn't his problem with them, but more so a problem with himself.
Ah, that was it.
His heart already belonged to someone, someone he had heard once and never witnessed again. Like the softest breath of the wind, or a joyful child's laughter, it brushed through his soul and soothed it, held it in its arms, and fussed over his messy hair and bruised skin. At times, Wriothesley wondered if it was all a dream, for only something that angelic, mesmerizing could not stem from reality. However, as young as he was in those years, he cannot deny the fact that in his dark days - it was your mysterious voice that carried him into the life, your presence that gave him the wings to continue living.
Yes, since that day, his every breath, every flutter of his eyes and every pump of blood that rushed anew into his veins from his heart was solely for the purpose of meeting you once more.
Another typical day at the Fortress of Meropide - paperwork strewn all over his once-organized desk, a cooled cup of tea sitting next to where his hand lie, the other furiously writing away on the said paper. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling into his palm as he briefly shut his eyes... only to shoot them back upon in a start as he heard the sound of something crashing against the walls, and the sound of paper, flying everywhere akin to a bird.
There was someone, lying, or rather, sprawled across his desk. Dizzy-eyed and muttering something intelligible, a growing red spot on their forehead gradually becoming increasingly more visible. "How did you get in here?" He's immediately put up his defenses, readying his gloves as he steps over - with quiet remorse - the papers that now blanket the ground.
"...Wh...Where am I?"
That. That voice.
Has he stopped breathing? He can feel all the blood rush to his head, and he can hardly think a single coherent thought, only focusing on the rush in his ears, the shaking of his hands, and the sight of you before him, dressed simply in sleepware and glancing around frantically. Gorgeous. Ethereal. The mere sight of you before him had spurred his heart into an erratic, fanatic pace, beating within his body like he'd die if it slowed down.
"Is... Is something wrong?" He was taken aback at the hand waving over his eyes, before settling back into position, realizing that you had been trying to speak with him for the past half-minute in his zoned-out state. Could you see it? The sin that was clearly displayed in his every breath, in his every inch of being?
"No, nothing's wrong." You seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and while your eyes were still filled with confusion, you tilted your head at his words. How come he was smiling...?
"Ah, then about that question-"
"Home. You're home. And this is where you'll be staying, forever." ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) ugh i swear to god i hate every single thing ive ever written for wriothesley he seems so yucky and out of character WJODJKFLJDSMF>
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
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lovverletters · 10 months ago
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Been waiting for this lol
*Ahem* I introduced Yan husband! Finally, after years of waiting and stalking and murdering (if that's cool), he finally has you! He worships you every day and reminds you how lucky he is, and he tells everyone how he's so lucky and how you're perfect!
Yandere! Husband
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A/N : Thanks for requesting! Hope you like it, 🌻 anon!
T/W : soft yandere, stalking, implied murder, non consentual photographing, stealing items, this is late asf
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"Honey, do you remember how we met?"
[Name] asked their husband of 6 years as they flip through their old journal, reliving their countless embarrassing, bitter and sweet memories of their youth.
They had been sifting through the storage closet earlier when they stumbled upon a box containing their old belongings dating back from when they were still studying in high school until they got married to their husband, Derek.
"Of course I do, it's the day I met the love of my life" He says with a smile on his face.
"Psh.. you're so cheesy Derry" [Name] swatted their husband's shoulder playfully, flustered at his words.
"What? I'm being honest. Every moment spent with you is unforgettable" A dark glint was present in his eyes as he uttered his reply.
How could he ever forget the day he met his beloved [Name]?
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Derek had been in his senior year of high school by the time he met [Name].
They had only recently moved to his hometown and enroll to the high school. He could still recall their timid expression as they asked him for directions, at that moment Derek brushed off the encounter as a one time thing.
He was graduating and they were a junior, he'll probably won't see them again.
Until Derek started to bump into [Name] more frequently albeit it being only a coincidence. [Name] would notice his presence and greeted him with a small wave everytime they pass by each other in the hallway or waiting in line during lunch.
Eventually, he finally spoke to them one day. It felt odd for him to be around them yet never uttering a single word.
It was the best decision he ever made.
"Uhㅡhey" Derek cursed himself inwardly for choking on his words.
[Name]'s eyes widened, spooked to hear him talk to them. They mustered up a crooked smile after recollecting themself to reply to him.
"Derek, hi. Sorry, I was on my phone that I didn't notice you behind me"
From then, something shifted in him. Their conversation faded into a white noise in his ears as his thoughts became fixated in [Name]'s voice.
He had heard them speak before but it felt different when they're talking to him. Their voice engraving itself into his brain like an earworm.
It doesn't stop there, their interaction expanded as their friendship blooms. [Name] would seek him out on subjects they were struggling on despite having other student who would eagerly help themㅡ his heart swells with pride knowing that it's him whom they're relying on.
Derek would also began inviting them to his football practice as an excuse to invite them for an ice cream laterㅡ and to also flex his athleticism in hopes of receiving praises from them.
He's not stupid, he knows that he likes themㅡ loves them. Maybe he had been a fool for underestimating his feelings for them.
It had been an unfortunate timing that he had never been able to confess to [Name] as his graduation passes and he was wrapped up with preparing for his higher education.
Those times away and distance from [Name] were hellish. Derek felt his sanity wanning with each day passes and his thoughts were constantly thinking of [Name].
What are they doing, Where they're at, Who they're withㅡ They don't have a partner don't they? They didn't replace me did they?? I'll kill that bastard who took my placㅡ
He finally cracked after stalking through their social media page and seeing the other student having grown close to them within months of his absence.
Derek decided that he's had enough sitting around in the sidelines with an aching heart. He'll make his move and insured that [Name] will be his.
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"I then drove back to back from my university to yours for years until I finally had enough and decided to ask you to move in with me" He traced the picture they took on their first day moving into his house.
[Name] snorted and pinched their husband's cheek, laughing as they teased him.
"Silly, you, I can't believe you rent out an apartment just because you can't be away from me anymore"
Derek huffed and flipped to the next page, tracing [Name]'s photo as he always does everytime he sees it.
"I love you too much, it hurt's to not be around your presence. I feel like I was going to die with each hour passes without you"
"Mmh sure, how come you never died after leaving me everytime you have to go back?" [Name] attempt at poking at their husband again.
Only to receive an unexpected answer.
"I never left" Derek uttered. No elaboration whatsoever.
Silence follows after as the cogs in [Name]'s brain turn to process what their sweet stupid dork husband just said.
Derek closed the journal shut and stood up, planting a kiss on their temple.
"I'm going to prepare dinner now. You better come and eat when I call you before continuing your clean up! No buts and ifs, okay love?" He gave them another kiss before disappearing into the kitchen.
Come to think of it, Derek had re-entered their life at a time where their newfound friend tragically passed in a mysterious incident. [Name] had been devastated and clung to Derek for comfort before it eventually delved into them being in a relationship with the man.
Everything was perfect. Too perfect if they had to be honest. It's almost as if he had planned it.
They shook off the thoughts and continued sorting through the old boxes when one of the contents surprised them.
It was the items they thought they had lost or threw away. But how could Derek have it when they had lost it before they begun dating. The polaroids were also odd as Derek weren't around during their senior year when it was takenㅡ if the dates marked was correct.
"Honey! Dinner's ready"
They'll ask him about it later.
«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»
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darlingdreadwrites · 1 month ago
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Awkward
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pairing: Ticci Toby x GN!Reader
summary: You had planned to hang out in the woods on your day off, but the sound of Toby training reminds you of an awkward encounter. Confronting him leads to other things.
contains: a nervous toby, a little bit of a confession, toby's in loooooove, kissing
warnings: toby walks in on you half naked (encounter is under the RED DIVIDER!! skip it if you don't want to read it cuz it is kinda NSFW), awkward talks
wordcount: 1.5k
masterlist
a.n: needed to feed my toby fiends (i missed writing about him). also, for the EJ request, i am working on it, don't worry babes
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The dark blades of grass tickled you through your long-sleeved shirt. You could smell the crisp autumn air as the cold kissed at your skin. Today wasn't the worst, you noted. You even had the right amount of sun. The orange-red leaves were cushioning your head, and these woods had never looked more beautiful. It was perfect. 
Thwack. Thwack.
It was perfect. 
You try to ignore the sound of Toby practicing his aim. You want peace and not be reminded of the awkward encounter you two shared. You shiver internally at the memory.
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Having been tasked with another mission, you wanted to throw the biggest tantrum. It felt like you had just gotten back from one. As much as you might've enjoyed hunting, your body would get so sore. 
That’s why you were petulantly - and very slowly - getting dressed. You timed it; how long you should put an article of protective clothing to drag it out as much as possible. You just had no idea that this wasn't a solo mission for you. 
You were new. At least, new to Toby. He was used to the timely manner that Tim and Brian would respond when on a mission. That’s all he would remember until his eyes glazed over, leaving him as little more than a puppet to the Operator. He honestly thought you had forgotten about getting partnered with him and about your kill. He was right about one thing. That's why, unbeknownst to both of you, Toby was rounding the corner to barge into your room and yell at you like he used to be yelled at for taking too long.
Your bedroom door had swung open, and a heavy silence came afterward. You - being in the middle of putting your shirt on - had stopped to whip your head in the direction of the now-open door. If only your reflexes had the decency to let your shirt fall all the way.
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Toby floundered, his mouth opening and closing dumbly. He didn't know why he couldn't - or why he even needed to - say anything. He could just close the door and not stare at you like he'd never seen a half-naked human body before. A very attractive half-naked human body that belonged to a very attractive human he had a massive crush on. 
He realized that now as the two of you stared at each other for a comically long time. His throat felt like it was the dryest it had ever been, and he worked to stop a heart attack from ensuing - and his dick from getting hard. But his eyes were struggling to stay glued to your face and not the way that your chest was on full display. He wanted to rush in so badly and squish his face against your - nope.
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“Ooooh, fuh-fuck,” he whimpered. From embarrassment, you hoped. He squeaked out an apology before slamming the door shut.
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Toby almost messed up the whole operation that day. You knew it had something to do with the incident, but neither of you wanted to address it at all. 
That was the whole reason Toby was throwing his hatchets like no tomorrow. You had to stop Tim from beating him into a bloody pulp. He said that if Toby liked his hatchets so much, he should learn to not fuck up his throws. He had no idea of what nightmare he had unleashed for anyone in the younger man’s vicinity. 
You try to shut out the repetitive sound of steel meeting wood. And the heavy, breathy grunts that came out of him, but you weren't going to get into that. As much as your brain screamed at you to ignore his presence altogether, a very loud, small part of you wanted to talk to him. You only recognized that as wanting to yell at him for being annoying. 
After a few more grueling seconds, you sit up. You internally hype yourself up to confront him as you stand up. You reach behind you to brush off any leaves or dirt that stuck to you. 
You'd only made it halfway to him when he heard the crunch of leaves. He knew it was you. Jesus, had he memorized the sound of you walking? How pathetic could he be? He contemplated scrambling in the opposite direction and leaving behind all his stuff for a moment. But when he saw your face come into view, he was stuck. Rooted, planted in his spot, and at your mercy. 
You offer a small, awkward smile before speaking up. “Could you –“
“I-is it the-the…” he trails off, glancing at the hatchets.
“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “Yeah, it’s the… it’s pretty loud.”
“My…my bad.”
“No, it’s – it’s fine, really, just… ya’know…”
Toby nods, grunting softly as he dislodges a hatchet from a very abused stump. He – pretends – to inspect it for a moment. “I have to-have to practice. I can’t hhhhelp how loud it-it is.”
You blink, taken aback by his defensiveness. “I didn’t say you couldn’t.”
“I’m-I’m just sssayin’ that if it’s bo-bothering you, you cuh-can go back to the-the cabin,” he almost mumbles the last part when he sees the look on your face.
“Ooo-kay,” you turn to leave, not wanting to deal with this.
“Wait – wait!” Toby drops his hatchet and takes two big steps closer to you. “Ssssorry, that didn’t-didn’t come… out right.”
“No, I understood.”
“Then why ar-are you making thuh-that face.”
“What – “ you can feel your cheeks start to warm up. “What face, Toby?”
He points at you with a gloved finger, his right brow twitches. “That-that face.”
“I don’t make any face.”
“Yeah, you duh-do. Happens a lot-lot when you talk to mmme.”
Oh, you need to get out of here. Like, right now.
“Won’t look at you again, then.”
You go to leave again but get stopped by a hand on your arm. It’s warm – he’s warm – and your brain almost short-circuits because of it. It’s gentle, more than you thought he could be. You can feel the involuntary movements due to his tics, but you can tell he’s being careful with you.
“It’s not-not a bad th-thing, or whate-whatever,” he lets his arm fall to his side like he just realized what he’d done. “Just… nuh-notice it, ‘s all.”
“You’ve stared at me enough to notice that?” You scoff, intending to tease him, but your voice comes off a little shaky.
Toby doesn’t respond immediately – he just shifts a little to get closer to you. He doesn’t trust himself to speak because he knows he would’ve immediately said yes.
Yes, he stared at you enough to notice that. Yes, he actually, really liked your face. Yes, he’d thought about kissing your face many times. Yes, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of you when he opened your door.
But he couldn’t just say that. You always seemed annoyed, or tense, when he talked to you. And even then, you two didn’t talk a lot. Toby, not fond of being in the cabin for too long, was always outside. He noticed that you mostly stayed inside – preferring the comfort of your room. Part of him wanted to experience that with you. He hadn’t had any type of comfort in a while.
Toby realized that he must be freaking you out with how long he was staring, but – wow, when had your face gotten so close? Toby couldn’t believe that not only was he leaning in, but so were you. It seemed like an invisible magnet was pulling your faces closer until he could feel your breath on his face and smell your heavenly scent. A scent that he would only be blessed with every time you walked by. But now it wasn’t a fleeting aroma. No, it was so much stronger than he ever hoped it could be.
For a moment, all you could hear was the wind and the rustling of the trees in response to it. You couldn’t help but feel it all be stripped away. As if everything had disappeared, leaving just you, him, and this moment. You both paused before any contact could be made. Your eyes flickered up to Toby’s, and he did the same before your gaze fell back to his mouth. You always admired how pink they looked, so kissable. Oh, god, were you going to kiss him?
He steps a little closer – he’s inches away from you now – his head tilting slightly. His lips part, and it causes you to swallow involuntarily. Your brows pinch together, and you look back up at him. The sight has him yearning to grab your face and planting a long, bruising kiss to your lips.
You feel your pulse thrumming as he leans in to close that last inch. His lips press onto yours softly – almost tentative – and then his hand finds yours. The rough texture of his glove rubs against your skin as he pulls you closer. You can just feel how much he’s holding back – holding everything in his power to not brush his tongue against your bottom lip.
When you finally break apart, neither of you speaks. He smiles widely, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he almost looks absolutely adorable. Until he opens his mouth, that is.
“I knew-knew you liiiiiked meee,” he sang, shimmying his shoulders a little.
You almost punched him.
But, in the end, kissing him again would satisfy the two of you way better.
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yuri-is-online · 1 year ago
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And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)
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"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."
"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"
"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."
notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.
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Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"
Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.
Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"
On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.
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Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."
If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.
Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."
Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.
Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"
Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.
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Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."
Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.
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Malleus- "..."
Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?
Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"
Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.
Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"
Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.
Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."
You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?
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hurtblossom · 4 months ago
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You belong with me L.N.4
Pairing : Lando Norris x Driver!Reader (Female)
Summary : Driver reader is in love with little Lando Norris, but he is too oblivious to notice ?
Warning : ANGST + Insecure reader + Terrible english (feel free to correct me) + Relatively short. Use of she/her pronounce
INSPIRED BY THE SONG YOU BELONG WITH ME, BY TAYLOR SWIFT
Materlist
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You've always had a soft spot for Lando Norris, from the moment you first saw him at one karting race, when you were just kids. You grew up together, along with other drivers, so you were on the first line to see the little boy you once knew, turn into one hell of a man. But it wasn't his beauty that caught your attention. It was rather how mature he was at such a young age, how he was shy around all the other boys during karting, or how he always managed to have a good heart.  
You'll always remember the day you met him; it was during your first ever karting competition. You've waited for this moment a long time, and trained hard, with your father's help, to achieve your goals. Unfortunately, nothing went as planned, and you ended up being covered in mud, and disqualified, due to someone pushing you off the track (it was just an inchident, on the race).
You'll always remember that little boy, coming towards you and sitting next to you, telling you how much of a great racer you are, and how you should beat yourself up over one loss. When you turned to look at him, the only thing you could see was his smile.
He raised one hand, which made you flinch a little, and he carefully brought it to your face, whipping the tears. That was the first ever memory you had of Lando Norris, and ever since then, you've been growing a crush on him, to which he had been oblivious.  
Back to the story ...  
You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset  She's going off about something that you said  Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do 
You've been a driver for McLaren for a little less than 3 months now, they were kind enough to give you a chance, as the first female, racing in Formula 1, against men.  
You often saw Lando, on his phone, texting away, or just talking on the phone with someone. You didn't want to pry or to be weird by asking questions. You were only his teammate after all, so you just watched him, from afar.
You noticed that he always seemed to be upset when on the phone, always huffing and arguing with the person on the other side of it. You could hear small bits of the conversation, something about him being rude or whatever.  
"You should stop staring, it's becoming quite obvious." Max said, sitting beside you.  
"I don't know what you're talking about." You said, burying your eyes on your phone.  
"I'm serious Y/n/n, it's been years, when are you going to give up?" He asked.  
" Again, I don't know what you're talking about." You replied, sitting up. "Now, if you don't mind, I have places to be "  
"The sooner you'll get over it, the better. " Yelled Max, while watching you disappear.  
But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts  She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers  Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find  That what you're looking for has been here the whole time 
The first time you met Magui, Lando's girlfriend, you couldn't help but compare yourself with her. The way she dresses, how she talked, how she laughed, her posture. Everything she had, everything she was, you envied, because you were never that. Deep down, you wished to be like her, and even deeper than that, you wanted to know if Lando would even spare you a glance, if you looked just a little bit like Magui.  
McLaren was having a little brunch, where all the team was invited, including plus ones. You were all sitting around a table, talking about the previous races, laughing and just having a good time, all together. It was loud.
It was now that Lando cracked a joke, and everybody laughed that you realized that Magui wasn't really interested in what was happening, only focusing of her phone.
You looked back at Lando and saw the disappointment on his face. You made direct eye contact, and you smiled at him, waving slowly your hand, to which he did the same, you couldn't help but think that she really wasn't for him.
What you didn't see was Magui's face after that. And what you surely didn't know was that after that lunch, you were the topic of an argument between those two.  
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you  Been here all along, so why can't you see?  You belong with me 
The last GP left Lando in pieces, feeling like a disappointment, like he couldn't do anything right, win anything. During that last race, he ended up DNFing, while you were P3. Once out of the car, you were smiling, but it slowly faded away when you noticed your team's behavior.  
"What's happening?" You asked one of your coworkers after taking off your helmet.  
"Lando DNFed, and we can't find him anywhere." You've informed.  
Technically, you had to go straight to media, to talk about your race, but at that moment, your whole attention was focused on finding Lando.  
Walking around the paddock, you bumped into Magui, you didn't miss the dirty look she gave you.  
"Have you seen Lando?" You asked her.  
"Why are you looking for my boyfriend?" She asked in return. "Haven't you understood yet? He doesn't want you. Stop being so clingy with him, stop laughing at his stupid jokes, and stop looking at him all the damn time. " 
"What on earth are you talking about?" You asked, confused.  
" Don't act stupid. You know exactly what I'm talking about. He told me how much of a creep you are. Leave him alone. He's too nice to tell you that himself." She explained, getting angrier every time she pronounced a word.  
" He told you that?" You whispered.  
" That and many other things." She spoke. "Leave my boyfriend alone. Understood?"  
"Yeah. Alright. I will." You said, trying to get as far away as possible from that woman.  
"And for the recorded. He blames you for today." She finally said, before leaving.  
Tears were going down your face, as you continued to walk. That's when you saw him, sitting alone, far away from any cameras, his face buried in his hands. You dried your tears with the back of your hand, before joining him. You took a seat next to him, silently, not daring to look at him.  
"Don't beat yourself too much." You said, catching his attention. "It wasn't your fault; you did the best you could."  
"I failed, again." He said, looking straight forward.  
"You're a fantastic racer, Lando. One fail doesn't define you. You have many wins coming your way. I know it." You explained, looking at him.  
"How can you be so sure?" He asked 
" Because I know you." You simply said, smiling at him. "And I know you're going to do big things."  
At that moment, his face turned, and his eyes studied your face, his smiled disappeared, replaced by a frown.  
"Were you crying?" He asked, noticing the redness of your eyes.  
" Um, yeah." You whispered. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I wont bother you anymore Lando." 
"Bother me? What are you talking about?" He asked, confusion visible on his face, but you just couldn't deal with that now.  
"I have to go." You stood up quickly, making your way towards the paddock. Lando stood up quickly, calling after you, but you just didn't turn around. 
part 2 🩷
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youraverageaemondsimp · 9 months ago
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Ruinous Fixation // Stalker!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader || MODERN AU.
Valentine's special 💕
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Summary: Aemond had been stalking you for a while after an encounter with you in the past, when you found out, you should've been creeped out and called the police, but you didn't, he intrigued you, and so, you pursued him.
WARNINGS: mdni, dark themes, stalker!aemond, afab!reader, unprotected p in v sex, cunnilingus, oral (f. receiving), body worshipping, teasing, masturbation (m. & f.), fingering, multiple orgasms, reader is fucked in the mind too, consensual impregnation(?), voyuerism (to aemond that's watching through cameras), lmk if I forgot + not proofread
WC: 2.5k
A/N: ah yes, valentines special, surely the fic will be something sweet and fluffy, lol sike, it's just two mentally ill ppl getting together 😍, don't let the header fool u guys. // divider credits @cafekitsune
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Perhaps it was too much.
Perhaps it wasn't.
Maybe following you home without your knowledge, leaving you presents not signed with a name, instilling secret cameras into the gifts he had given to you — which you've naively kept in your room — could be considered stalking.
But Aemond doesn't feel that way, whether he is ashamed to admit or is in pure denial is unknown to himself, he justifies all of those actions by simple reasoning, ‘to make sure you were safe.’ which is way far-fetched than it should be.
You did not know Aemond, but he knew you, a obsession developed through the course of an year when you had first defended him in something, nobody ever took his side since he was a child, so seeing you step up in his defence, when he was mocked because of his eye, really ignited something in him.
You of course had forgotten about the encounter and moved on, he didn't, he cherished that memory like it was a tiny water droplet amongst the vast desert, he didn't want it to evaporate.
At first he just appreciated you, but then he got curious, of what kind of person you were, and then he got attached and now? well now he's far too in deep to leave, he knows everything about you, the outfit you like, what you do after coming home, your favourite food, what song you blast while getting ready, every miniscule thing, and he prepares his gifts accordingly.
Aemond thought you'd throw his gifts away, but you didn't, he would drop off your favourite flowers which you'd keep in your vase, he was confused why you weren't creeped out by this type of behaviour, an unknown person leaving gifts should make you be fully alert right?
The thing is, you knew.
How can you not? He was way too fully obvious, you had only ever pretended that you did not remember him, but you recognized him, he was unique after all, you'd often catch him staring in your direction, and the gifts and letters he leaves you? How can you not recognize the handwriting when you're both in the same English class? When you've read countless handwritten essays by him?
You knew he was stalking you, you knew it was fucked up, but there was some deep subconscious part of you that liked it, to see someone be obsessed over you to the point of stalking or having their whole life revolve around you was like a stroke to your ego, maybe you're allowing it because you liked the guy? he wasn't a bad person, and neither does he behave like a total creep.
His behaviour is indeed creepy, but not completely creepy or anything — is what you justified your non-repulsiveness about him with
However you had gotten tired, tired of waiting for him to make a move, so you got ahold of his schedule to see when he's free and that's when you decided you'd strike him yourself.
You walk through the hallways in search of him, immediately smiling when you find him coming out of the class, you neutralise your expression and begin walking at full speed towards him, eventually ‘accidentally’ bumping into him, causing your belongings to fall down.
“Watch where you're—Oh are you okay?” He takes a moment to recognize you, and you nod slightly, picking up your things slowly, waiting for him to help you, which he does, but when he's about to touch something – and item that he himself had gifted – you grabbed it in a rush, hiding it from him and he raises his eyebrow at that while he picks up your other things.
He then hands over all the collected stuff, “Sorry for being, that was just an important thing someone had gifted me, I cherish it a lot.” You tell slowly, and smile up at him, you watch the way he shifts in his position, as his eyebrows relax and his mouth slightly curls up in a smile, “No problem.” He tells you and you both part your ways.
That wasn't enough however.
Because Aemond still did not strike, and it made you anxious to no end, so you began planning your guys’ accidental meetings until you eventually became friends with him, Aemond did not expect any of this but he enjoyed every moment, thinking his efforts paid off, well they technically did.
You found out about the camera in the eye of a comforting bed plushie he had gifted you accidentally, it made you shocked to know that he was keeping his eye on you like this, but you didn't care at that point because you too were so obsessed about him.
It's fucked up.
And then, an idea struck up in your head.
You invited Aemond for a coffee date, if you could call it that, and spent time together, preparing for English, he's actually very smart when his life isn't revolving around you, and you liked him even more because of his intelligence.
After a few hours together, you guys ended the date and went back home, you knew he'd be watching you through the camera so you decided to put on a show for him, you laid on the bed, breathing heavily as you imagined Aemond.
You closed your eyes, imagining that your hands were his and you began touching yourself, the way his hands would squeeze your breasts, play with your njpples, you mimicked as your imagery began to go wild.
Aemond was watching all this happen, it's not like he hadn't watched you masturbate before, or hump the plushie he had given you, but this time he for an odd reason, knew it was different.
You hand slowly pulled your panties down, pretending it was him before you slowly spread your legs apart and cupped your own cunt, before rubbing small circles onto your clit.
The pleasure and tension slowly began to rise as you picked up the pace, quickly growing desperate. You knew he was probably watching so you began to make noises hoping he'd hear you, and then an idea struck through you.
Maybe you should give a point of view if he is indeed watching.
You stared at the plush for a second before committing to that, you grabbed it and positioned it between your legs and took off your shirt, so you were completely naked now.
Aemond was unbearably hard at the sight, he massaged his balls to ease the tension before unbuckling his pants pulled his cock out and wrapped his hand around it.
You rutted against the plush, bouncing up and down to create friction inbetween your legs that provided pleasure, Aemond threw his head back, trying to match your pace with his hand, imagining that it was your cunt wrapped around him instead of his hand.
Your orgasm was drawing nearer and you desperately moved your hips back and forth, letting out gasps and whines, squeezing your breasts and pretending it was Aemond's hands.
The band that tightened in your core snapped with a warning, and you closed your eyes shut at the intensity it hit you with, you came with a loud moan of his name, “Fuck— Aemond.” you gasped.
Aemond finished right then there when he heard you say out his name, he grunted as he finished all over his hands. He breathed heavily gazing through the screen as you plopped down onto the bed tiredly, “Mhm Aemond.” You whined sleepily as your tiredness finally caught up to you, and you slowly drifted off to sleep, your breaths slowing down.
Aemond couldn't sleep that night.
——————
“Are you alright?” You teasingly ask him the next morning at class and he stares at you for a moment before nodding. He decided that since you had liked him back, there should be nothing stopping him right?
“Y/N, I have something to say.” He begins
‘Finally,’ you think.
“I'm in love with you, and I don't know if this will ruin the friendship between us but I really do.” He finally confesses and you smile.
“I know Aemond, I loved all of your gifts.” you tell him
And before he could process what you had said, the professor had come in and silenced the class, even after class he didn't get a chance to talk to you, you were always whisked away by something and he grew more frustrated.
So after the college had ended, you both walked home, and he thought it was better to discuss it in private rather than in public, to which you nodded and allowed him into your house. You dropped your bag on the couch before undoing your shoes and throwing them off, before making your way into the kitchen, fetching some water and bringing it for Aemond, while he sat on the couch.
“What do you mean by that you liked my gifts?” He questioned before gulping down some water and placed it on the table right in front of the sofa. You wasted no time and got on his lap, straddling him as you wrapped your arms around him and gazed into his eye.
“I know about everything, Aemond.” You mutter and his eye widens, “Since when?” he queried and you smirked, “Months ago, our meeting wasn't a coincidence.” You cup his cheek, caressing his scar with your thumb. “I hope you liked my show last night, I was waiting for this moment.” You whisper seductively before connecting your lips with his and he lets out a satisfied hum at how soft your lips feel against his, he immediately succumbs into your kiss, grabbing you by your waste and chasing your lips with his, the kiss becomes heated as well as passionate while you grip his head and push your tongue into his mouth.
You pull away to catch your breath and stare into his eye, you push a strand of his hair behind his ear before you lean in, “Take me to the bedroom and fuck me in the bed, Aemond.” You demand and he immediately obeys, holding you tightly against him as he carries you to your bedroom, before gently throwing you on the bed.
And you sit up on your elbows as he crawls up the bed towards you, pawing at your clothes and trying to pull them off, which you assist him with, he kisses your shoulders and your neck, all the way down towards your breasts and to your stomach before pressing a loving kiss on flesh of your cunt.
“You're so fucking wet.” He says amused, and your face heats up at that comment, “All for me, yes?” He looks at you and you nod, “All for you, Aemond.” You reaffirm and he smirks, you felt warmth creep up in your stomach at his expression, giving you butterflies.
He wets his fingers with his spit before pushing one inside humming in satisfaction as your cunt swallows his finger as though it was waiting for him, he slowly begins to thrust in and out, growing more restless and hot as he watches his finger move in and out, hoping that would be his cock soon.
He adds another finger and you whine at the delicious stretch, bucking your hips upwards to which he huts at and presses them back down, his hot breaths fan against your clitoris, causing you to twitch and look at him desperately, and he immediately knows what you want.
His lips wrap around the neglected bud before he begins to suckle on it, twirling his tongue around the pearl whilst you throw your head back at the amplified pleasure he was bestowing you with.
Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, gently pulling against his scalp as you writhe and squirm because of him, your orgasm hits you before you could even process it, making you moan his name out loud as your vision turns white as well as make your ears ring loudly.
He pulls away with a wet pop and pulls his fingers out before cleaning them up with his mouth, he licks his fingers – that was covered in your juices – squeaky clean before and hovers above you and kisses you. You wince at the tangy taste of yourself but nonetheless still kiss him back.
You tug at his pants and shirt, “Take them off.” You command, but in a pleading voice and he gladly does as you say, you watch as he pulls off his shirt and unbuckles his pants.
The sight of his body was divine, from his chest muscles to his defined arms, you began becoming more aroused as he fully undressed, and hovered above you once again, positioning himself between your legs.
“I don't have a condom.” He bites his lower lip nervously, but you cup his cheek and pull the lower lip from between his teeth, before you gazed up at him, “I don't fucking care, take me raw Aemond, I just want you to fuck me right now.” You admit unashamedly to which he chuckles lightly at before pressing his lips against yours once more.
He breaks the kiss and guides his hand towards his cock, gripping it and lining it up with your entrance, Aemond suddenly sits back so he isn't hovering over you anymore and pulls your legs over his shoulders, holding them in place as he pushes his cock inside.
He begins to thrust in and out, fucking you with a slow and gentle pace to gently stretch you out so you can adjust to his cock, and soon begins to move a faster pace than before.
However that still wasn't enough, so you begged for him to go faster; “Faster Aemond! Fuck, fuck me harder—” You are cut off by your own gasp when he sets his pace even faster than before, his thighs slapping against your butt.
Lewd noises fill the room, the scent of sex permeates the room while your body jolts up and down your bed as he restlessly pounds into you, all you could hear was your own moans matching with his as he too experiences the pleasure of this act.
“I'm cumming— fuck.” He warns you and tries to pull out but you pull your legs off his shoulders and wrap them around his waist, locking him in place, “Impregnate me like you desired, Aemond.” you tell him and he gasps as he hits his high at your words, shooting his seed inside of you.
He stimulates your clit while riding off his high which causes you to peak as well, making your walls to grip his cock tightly as they spasm around it.
He immediately plops down next to you, and you pull him to your chest, caressing his hair as he nuzzles his face in between your tits.
“I found your diary, you know, this morning.” You begin to speak as he catches his breath, “And I've found all the deepest and darkest desires you've written about me.”
His heartbeat rises and he stares up at you.
“I'd love for you to do those to me, Aemond.” you tell him.
“How are you okay with all of this? A normal person would be creeped out.” He questions and you smirk.
“I'm not so normal after all.” You kiss him on the head.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months ago
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James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: James "helps" you organize your old belongings to move them to the cellar.
Prompt: friends to lovers ~ "don't bite your lip, bite mine."
@moonlightspencie for you, my lovely!
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
BLURB MASTERLIST
James promised to help you organize and move all your childhood belongings into your cellar. Only, you should have known he wouldn't be much help at all.
You're sitting in the middle of your bedroom, the carpet covered in various nick-knacks and memories as James lays on his stomach on your bed and flips through some old muggle teenage magazine. 
"Who's John Lennon and why is this muggle magazine obsessed with him?"
You blow some hair away from your eyes. "A singer. He was in a band." You throw a pair of old sneakers in the discard pile and groan. "Jamie, you're being no help!"
James throws the magazine onto your bed and scrunches his nose as he rests his chin on his hands. "He's not even cute, y'know, muggle birds have shit taste."
"Never said John Lennon was cute, James," you say, glaring at him, "Now, can you come help look through that box for me?" you point to the box near your hip that's labeled postcards/letters.
James jumps down from the bed and sits crisscross next to you, his legs bouncing uncontrollably. He's unable to keep still for even a minute sometimes. You know this and so you just let him do his thing.
"Why do you keep all these?" he asks absentmindedly as he rummages inside the box, making sure everything inside corresponds to the label, occasionally discarding trash, trinkets, and even a pair of thankfully clean socks.
"Because they're to and from people I care about," you whisper, folding an old sweaters to donate. "They're memories."
James hums, clearly reading something and you turn your head, seeing him fully reading one of your letters. You snatch it from him and glare at him again. "You're being a pain," you say, your tone lacking in malice. 
"You never sent that one," he points to the letter and looks down at it, your breath leaving you when you see the name written on the front of the folded paper you hadn't even put in an envelope. 
James F. Potter.
 The letter is addressed to him.
A sense of dread creeps in on you and you have an awful feeling in your stomach that means you remember exactly which letter it is. You throw it in the box again, shrugging as your voice trembles, "Must not have been important."
James's gaze stays on you and he tilts his head in question. "Is it still true? You're in love with me."
Your chest tightens and you freeze, letting his words sink in. He'd read it. "How fast can you read?" you joke nervously, avoiding looking at him. This wasn't supposed to happen. 
James laughs. He laughs and you feel like sobbing so you do the next best thing which is hold in your tears as you sink your teeth into your lip, hard enough to hurt and distract you. 
"Woah," James's voice interrupts your self-loathing as he sits up on his knees and holds your chin. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from your teeth. "Hey, darling, don't do that," he whispers sternly and uses his other hand to push some hair away from your forehead and then he tucks some of the strands behind your ear.
"Can you look at me?"
You feel so embarrassed that he'd read your confession. A confession you'd written almost a year ago and that you'd never sent in fear of ruining the best friendship you've ever had.
You squeeze your eyes shut. "Hey," James mumbles and his hand rests against your cheek, his thumb still close to your lips. "Did you mean it? Do you still mean it?"
What point is there lying now?
You nod and your eyes open as you try and chew on your lip, a nervous habit you've always had and James stops you again with his thumb on your lip again and he frowns. 
"Don't you bite your lip, if anything bite mine," he says as if it's the most normal thing in the world. He looks completely serious too and your heart leaps.
James's signature smirk curls his lips and he grips your chin, pulling you in. "Like this," he says, his breath warm on your lips, and then he's kissing you.  
It's hesitant and unfamiliar for few seconds until you relax and your arms find his neck, pulling yourself in even closer as you deepen the kiss.
You feel like you're in a cloud and all you can feel is James's arms wrapping themselves around your waist. You smile into his mouth and tilt your head, your teeth sinking into his lip like he'd wanted.
From the passion, your bodies accidentally slip and as you fall over James, his elbow accidentally hits the box and sends all the contents spilling on the floor. 
"Oops," he pipes up, his voice breathless as he looks up at you, your hands beside his head as you look down at him. His hands remain on your hips and his lip is a little crimson and swollen from your bite.
His grin only widens.
"See, much better than when you bite yours," he chuckles.
You echo his laughter and then lean down, pressing another kiss to his lips.   
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six-eyed-samurai · 4 months ago
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I've seen a lot of people who write Muichiro as someone who sort of forgets he's not dating you in the crush stage, but my take is that Muichiro actually forgets he's dating you and thinks he's in his crush era.
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🌸He'll approach you suddenly, a couple times a month, with a serious expression and red cheeks, to confess his not-so-secret crush on you from since the day you both met, having forgotten he had already done so and you both were already together
🌸You usually just go along with it until he gets to the "I hope you feel the same but I'll understand if you don't" part; then you break it to him with a shy laugh that he had already confessed and you both were going out
🌸It's not tiring at all to keep repeating the same scenario, not at all! Muichiro is so cute when he does it, unconsciously pulling an innocent puppy expression and staring at you hopefully. And when he remembers you both are a couple he'll immediately light up ever so excitedly, attack you in a hug, press his forehead against you and apologize in a flurry of "Sorry" and compliments
("How did I manage to pull someone like you?" He wonders out loud. You laugh - he's too cute for his own good.)
🌸Not only that it's honestly become a guessing game with you to see what method Muichiro would confess to you again this time. You both have approximately cycled through confession by love letter, gifts (he might've stolen it forgetting it belonged to someone else, but it's the thought that counts, right?), cloud-gazing date, outright declaration, jealous blurt...yeah, you've gone through every single trope there was possible
🌸Your favorite one was when he threw an airplane across the room to you and when you unfolded it he wrote a little sweet confession. You still have it, along with the rest he started throwing to you to 1. get your attention 2. annoy you 3. ask you to join him for training or cloud-gazing
🌸 You've told him multiple times it's okay if he wants to stare at you anytime he likes after catching him doing it one day, like he did when he was in his crush phase, but he forgot and acts like he just got caught performing the most atrocious crime on earth: looks away immediately and vehemently denies it
🌸Everyone around you guys thinks it's super funny and adorable how Muichiro would start talking about you and abruptly end it with something like "Is this what people mean by having a crush?" or "I would really like to be her boyfriend someday if I manage to confess and she accepts." As said above he gets really puppy-dog excited when he's told "Aren't you guys dating already?"
("We are?" Muichiro frowned. "I don't remember..." His eyes widen. "So that's who left me that daikon today..." Then he runs off forgetting he's in the middle of conversation to go find you.)
🌸Sometimes it's a little awkward when it comes to dates though. Say there's a festival happening in a nearby town or White Day and you've been planning to spend the day having fun with him - Muichiro's going to forget you're both together and be too shy to ask you out despite that's all he's thinking about. Then you have to remind him, or someone else triggers it.
("I'm so sorry I didn't ask you!" Muichiro pushed a small box of chocolates towards you. "I got you this as an apology if it makes up for it? We'll do anything you want for tonight if you want?)
🌸It's always funny when Muichiro gets sulky or starts moping around when he hears about your boyfriend and how you're gushing over him because he forgot it was him. You like to tease him about it by listing out all the qualities you like about him and the usual praise until Muichiro asks who it is, his jealousy quite obvious.
("You, dummy!"
Muichiro blinked, then groaned, grabbing onto your side and looking up at you pathetically. "Don't play with me like that!")
🌸Of course it's not all fun and games. If this is before he met Tanjiro and regained his memories he can be pretty cold to you when he doesn't remember about your relationship, leading to a lot of things you both have to talk through after a fight.
🌸Worse case scenario is that he still remembers you as a crush, but decides that instead of confessing like before he ought to push you away before you became a weakness, a distraction...someone he'd lose.
🌸After he gets back his memories and becomes more like his old self however, he doesn't forget your relationship anymore, meaning to make up for all the times he did. In fact he flexes it, wanting to tell everyone about the both of you all the time to the point your default face is now "extremely flustered".
🌸Especially when he's jealous, actually.
("I heard that (y/n) has a crush though, do you really think you still stand a chance?"
Muichiro whipped his head around at the sound of the two slayers gossiping in the corner during a break from his training. A slight crease forms between his eyebrows and he decides to go a little harder on them later.
"Nah, it's fine! I'm a hundred per cent confident she'll say yes as long as she isn't dating anyone!"
"But I heard she is," a third slayer joined in, leaning closer conspiratorially. "A Hashira, actually."
The guy in question bursts out laughing. Scumbag. "As if! Don't be so stupid. She's already lucky she could get MY attention."
"Who would want a stupid mizunoto like you?" Muichiro smacked the slayer with the flat of his blade expressionlessly. The other two yelped and scrambled back. "For your information (y/n) got my attention - and now you have mine: go run ten laps around the Estate and if I hear you defile her name again I'll make it a hundred."
He blew a raspberry at the poor wretch as he ran past.)
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