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norrizzandpia · 6 months

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Longing Glances and Whispered Confessions (LN4)

Summary: In which, in the darkness of the night, Lando Norris loves Y/n Fewtrell, only for the pain of their secrecy to plague them in the daylight.

Warnings: language, a shit ton of really sad fights, the break up scene is unlike anything ive ever written, i feel so bad for y’all, this shit hurt my heart

Note: plz forgive me with the part 2 i am promising you

Note (part 2): also i think I’m going to start adding lyrics and pictures at the beginning of my longer, more heartbreaking imagines (so basically everything i write) that describe the situation in a nutshell. I just think it makes it more dramatic and poetic 🤭 also also this imagine wasn’t written along the lines of illicit affairs i just listened to it while i wrote and took inspiration from it but feel free to listen to it while you read! Thats why i linked it

UPDATE: i posted part 2 queens

“And that’s the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and longing stares, it’s born from just one single glance, but it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times” - Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs

“Y/n?” Lando’s voice traveled through the hallway, meeting her ears in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” She yelled back, eyes lingering on the wall in front of her in concentration of his next words.

“Can you come tell me if this skin on Halo is stylish?” He giggled, eliciting a giggle from her as she paddered softly into his gaming room, coming into view of his camera and allowing the chat to go wild with her presence.

She bent down, arm leaning on his shoulder as she inspected the animatronic, “I think it’s cool, yeah!”

Lando’s eyes twinkled up at her, “Really?! Your brother thinks it’s ugly.”

She reared around when Max came into the room, “Fewtrell! Don’t be mean!”

His hip popped out and he stared at her blankly, “Y/n, first of all, your last name is Fewtrell too, so I’m not sure why you’re calling me that. It doesn’t have the same effect. Second of all, it is ugly. I don’t care if that’s mean.”

Lando scoffed from behind her, but went quiet when her small hand squeezed his shoulder in a comforting manner, “Don’t be discouraged, Lan. If you think it’s cute, then that’s all that matters.”

Again, his eyes poured out love for her. His body buzzed and his cheeks warmed under her smile, something that visited him in his dreams at night. His head tilted, mind glazing over at the way she reassured him, supported him. He knew he was crazy for going this deep over her words on a gaming skin, but that was the way he was with her. Secretly obsessed.

Nevertheless, her touches were fleeting and she was exiting the room with her brother, the two in deep discussion about her calling him by their last name.

Lando, on the other hand, was left to address the chat’s exposing messages.

ln4andop81

He’s so in love with her when will anybody realize it

—

Lando couldn’t believe how wasted Y/n was. As she stumbled to his car, he got out quickly, not realizing how much she had drunk when he wasn’t there to stop her.

“LAN!” She yelled, arms wrapping around his neck when he got close enough.

He chuckled, dragging her body over to the passenger seat and gently lowering her into it. He leaned against the door, smiling at her dazed demeanor, “Fun night?”

She nodded, eyes wandering around, “Yeah, except I missed you.”

Even her drunk words made his heart beat faster than normal. He knew she was impaired, she didn’t understand what she was saying or what it meant, but he still took it and held on. He had admired her so heavily from afar that any inference of requited love had him in a death grip.

Nodding and walking back around to his side, he got in and started the engine again. From his turned around position, arm splayed against the back of her seat as he backed out, she giggled, “Anyone ever told you how hot you are?”

He choked on air, mind spinning out at the question she had blurted out so easily. His lungs seemingly constricted, loss of breath prevalent as he stopped the car.

With his trunk sticking out, Lando looked at her deeply, “What?”

“You’re hot. I’ve always thought that. That and about what it’d be like to be with you. Always wondered about that. Always wanted that.” She replied, laughter continuing as if she wasn’t destroying the reality Lando had built up in his head to protect himself from the feelings he held for his best friend’s little sister.

He shook his head, resuming his prior actions, “You’re drunk, Y/n.”

Her singsong voice replied, “Drunk words are sober thoughts!”

He drove her home, helping her into bed and making sure she was okay before turning out the lights and driving back to his apartment. Throughout it all though, he wondered if drunk words really were sober thoughts.

—

The morning after, Lando’s mind was eating at itself over Y/n’s comments the night before. He had been so agitated that he drove to her house, pounding on her door impatiently.

When she opened it, looking incredibly hungover, he stormed in and paced the space of her living room before turning around and coming to a stand still.

“Are you okay?” She questioned, eyebrows furrowed at his neurotic movements.

“No, you said things last night and I need to know if they’re true.” He tried, voice very clearly pleading.

She sat down on the couch, staring up at him confusedly, “What’d I say?”

“You said that you wondered what it’d be like to be with me. You said you’d always wanted that.” He said forcefully, pacing starting again as his nerves stopped his ability to look at her.

Her heart stopped, wishing that she hadn’t gotten drunk, called her brother’s best friend, and proceeded to spill everything she felt for him. Similarly, she couldn’t look at him either, too scared for the reaction he would have to her reply.

“Yes, that is true.” She heard his steps stop, however she didn’t see him or what he was doing until he came and sat down next to her.

She was on the verge of tears, ready for a calm rejection from him, but was surprised when his hands gently took her face and turned it to look up at him.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, eyes searching hers, but only seeing astonishment.

“Yeah,” She said back, a smile breaking out when he leaned down and captured her lips with his.

It was slow, passionate as the two learned of the feelings the other had suppressed for just as long as they had. It was heartbreaking, the way they had missed time to be together out of the fear of losing the other, but they were kissing each other and things were finally fitting.

When he pulled back, hands still cradling her jaw, he smiled at her and she beamed back.

Whispers of how much they loved each other lingered in the air as he led her upstairs to her bedroom.

—

Max was always upfront about how against he was of the idea of Y/n and Lando. Promptly, Y/n and Lando decided it was best to keep everything a secret until time passed and they grew certain of their future together.

The only problem was that, from the start, they knew there would never be an end.

That complicated things. The uncertainty and confusion over when they would tell Max warranted an overwhelming amount of fights. Fights that took place in the small time they had to spend together.

“CAN’T YOU JUST SEE WHERE I’M COMING FROM?!” She yelled at him, hands flailing around with a face so disappointed in her boyfriend, it pained him to see.

“I DO! I DO SEE WHERE YOU’RE COMING FROM, BUT WE HAVE TO BE REALISTIC, Y/N! I MEAN, SHIT, AM I THE ONLY SANE ONE IN THIS RELATIONSHIP?” His words cut her soul, the man she loved judging her character after having told her how it was one of the things he loved most about her.

She scoffed, arms crossing over her chest in a physical plea for protection from his cruel, strategic insults, “FUCK YOU, LANDO.”

His hands flew out by his sides, an exacerbated sigh leaving his mouth, “GET OVER YOURSELF!”

She shook her head, it falling down exhaustedly, “I’m so fucking over this.”

He laughed dryly, “What? You want to break up now?”

She huffed, stomping her foot on the ground, “NO! I JUST WANT YOU TO LOVE ME AND TELL ME WHEN YOU’LL DO IT UNASHAMED!”

He stared at her, eyes searching hers for answers that were reasonable, “Y/n, you know I love you and you know I can’t give you a timeline of when the public, especially your brother, will accept us.”

She turned away, wiping the tears that had fallen down her face, “I’m so fucking exhausted of this. It’s been six months, Lando. And I’ve loved you for so much longer. It’s been years of having to hide how I feel about you and now that I have it, I still can’t show it.”

His presence loomed behind her, hands falling onto her shoulders softly before his lips kissed the skin, “I know, baby, and I’m so sorry. I truly am. For everything, the fight and this feeling, I’m sorry.”

She turned back around, body being held by him, “I know you are. I know this isn’t what you want. I’m sorry for that too, but, Lan,” She trailed off, his nodding taking place.

“I know, I know.” He assured, signaling that he understood how sick she was of pretending like there wasn’t anything going on between them.

She laid her head on his chest, murmuring, “When will it change?”

Truthfully, neither of them were sure they would ever know.

—

Parties were the hardest. Seeing Lando flirt with these beautiful women had Y/n throwing back drinks so quickly, it could be designated as a sport. However, this time, her boyfriend was quick to stop her from continuing, only allotting for a tipsiness to take over.

With Deja Vu, Lando drove her back to her house, except this time, he stayed in her bed. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist in the darkness of the night, she spoke, “Why do you have to do it in front of me?”

He kissed the top of her head, “Do what?”

She separated herself from him, moving to sit up and let her legs dangle over the side of the bed. He followed her movements, “Flirt with other girls.”

He nodded, surprised at the topic. His words took a moment to form in his head, and even when they did, he dreaded saying them out loud, “You know, I have to keep up the image. I can’t start dodging women’s advances. It would look too suspicious.”

She exhaled a breath, getting up fully and walking over to the wall to turn the lights on, “So, what? You just eye fuck other people so obnoxiously right in my fucking face?”

He let his chin meet his chest, “I don’t have the energy to have another fight with you.”

She groaned, “I’m not asking you to have a fight with me, Lando. I’m asking you to explain to me why you have to shove this shit down my throat.”

Lando stood abruptly from the bed and yelled, “I JUST FUCKING DID!”

She shook her head, “NO, YOU FUCKING DIDN’T! YOU GAVE ME A SHIT EXCUSE FOR A SHITTY SITUATION. OWN UP TO ONE FUCKING MISTAKE IN YOUR LIFE, LANDO. FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

He rolled his eyes, “OH, GIVE ME A BREAK! YOU KNOW I OWN UP TO MY MISTAKES WHEN IT’S WARRANTED!”

Her eyes bulged, “SO, BORDERLINE CHEATING IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ISN’T A MISTAKE TO YOU?! DOESN’T WARRANT AN APOLOGY?”

Lando scoffed loudly, heels of his hands coming to dig into his eyes, “I’m so fucking over it. You know I hate having to entertain them. You know I do.”

“Do I?” She challenged, staring right at him when he let his gaze wander to hers.

His mouth stood agape, “You think I want to cheat on you?”

She shook her head in return, “I don’t fucking know at this point, Lando. It’s awfully convenient that we have to stay private according to you just as all these women begin to throw themselves at you.”

“I’M NOT SOME MAN WHORE, JESUS CHRIST!” He yelled, pushing past her and walking toward her front door.

Clad in gray sweatpants and no shirt, he shoved on the hoodie he had left strewn across her couch when they first came in, “I’m leaving.”

She laughed, “Oh, what? I find out what the fuck you’re doing behind my back and you run away? Perfect!”

His hand on the door knob, keys in the other, he forcefully turned around and yelled, “NO! I’M NOT FUCKING RUNNING OUT WHEN YOU’VE CAUGHT ME. YOU HAVEN’T BECAUSE I’M NOT DOING THAT SHIT BEHIND YOUR BACK. YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU. LEARN TO BELIEVE IN THAT AND THEN COME FUCKING TALK TO ME!”

He slammed the door shut on his way out, definitely waking up some neighbors in the process. Y/n stared at the white paint, it’s continuous chipping off the wood annoying her, and cried. Cried like she had lost him all over again and cried because he brought up an eye opening point.

She didn’t believe that he loved her.

And she never had.

—

Y/n’s persistent knocking had Lando opening his door aggravatedly.

“We need to talk.” She said authoritatively, walking through the threshold without any permission.

He scoffed at her behavior, eyes rolling as he watched her retreat further into his apartment.

“Alright, about what?” He asked, his arms coming to tangle against his chest.

She turned around, looking at him sympathetically, a look so contrasting to the fiery one she had shot him throughout their fight the night before that he was reminded of how much he cared for her. That look had started it all, the adoration and yearning in her eyes that had pulled him in and refused to let him go. His eyebrows knitted together, head tilting as he willed the tears in his eyes away.

“What are we doing?” She said, clearly shocked over the trajectory of their relationship.

His mind froze, “I… don’t understand.”

She mirrored the cocking of his head, “Lando, ever since we got together, all we’ve done is fought. The love we share doesn’t amount to anything when it comes to how this has worked out. It doesn’t make sense, it never did. We were never supposed to work together.”

Was she really doing what he thought she was doing?

He shook his head, “Y/n, what are you going on about? Baby, I lov-”

She interrupted him quickly and tearfully, “Don’t call me baby. Please. Because of you, I’m a mess and an idiotic fool. I’ve ruined myself over and over again for you, and it never seems to be enough. I give and I give and I give, and nothing ever ends up meaning something. I’m sick and tired of sneaking around, using a different perfume when I’m with you so that no one can smell me on you, taking different streets so the paparazzi doesn’t see me leave your place. I’m sick of taking small looks from you when other girls get your full attention. I’m over being second to everybody else when I know I deserve better. My love for you isn’t enough for the pile of lies and gaslighting I’ve put myself through.”

Lando’s eyes searched hers for any kind of hesitation or regret, but all he found was an unwanted amount of tears and looks of exhaustion. He couldn’t believe the woman he had fallen so deeply in love with had gone on like this for so long and he never knew. It was as if he was waking up now, realizing just how much he had pushed her with his fears and just how late he was to save it all.

When he didn’t respond, she took a deep breath, wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks, and continued, “I can’t do this with you anymore. I won’t give you the typical it’s not you, it’s me. You don’t deserve that. I can’t do this with you anymore because it’s not worth it anymore. All the pain I feel, I constantly feel, has outweighed whatever this was. For my own sanity, I can’t be with you any longer.”

When he spoke, Lando wasn’t expecting to find his voice so broken, wet with the beginning emotions of unrequited love, “But, it has to be, Y/n. Your love for me has to be enough. My love for you is enough. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

She shook her head, swallowing thickly as she looked down at her shoes, “No, Lan, because my actions never made you doubt the love I had for you. Yours did. The constant shutting down when I asked when we could tell Max, the flirting with other women, the ignoring me when I was around you in a room full of people. That was the gradual journey that I was forced to embark on because I wanted you so bad. But, last night, after you told me to come talk to you when I started believing how you felt toward me, I realized that that day would never come. I don’t even imagine myself understanding the feelings you have toward me. If anything, come to me when you learn how to love me publicly.”

Lando reached out for her, but it only pushed her closer to the door, “This can’t be it, Y/n. I didn’t wait years for this to happen, only it to end this way. Please, there has to be something I can do.”

His pleading increased the tears falling from both their eyes, a painful reminder of the deep scar forming on their hearts, “No, Lando. There isn’t. That’s why I’m here and telling you what I am. Trust me,” She took a step forward, hand rubbing the skin of his cheekbone while the other splayed across his jawline, “If there was a way for this to be fixed, I would tell you. Realizing we don’t work is one of the worst heartbreaks of my life, but it’s life, right?”

His eyes closed at her touch, “But, what’s life without you?”

His whispering broke any semblance of her soul as she whispered back, “That’s what we both need to find out.”

Torturously, at the end of her sentence, the warmth of her palms was disappearing from his face and the grave coldness was returning. When he opened his eyes, he found the love of his life lingering next to the door, ready to leave him and the life he thought they would build together.

“What happens if we both find out that life without each other isn’t something we can sustain? What if we miss each other?” He tried. Anything to keep her for a second longer. Anything to get her to stay.

She shrugged, wiping a hand over her face to dry it, “I don’t know, Lando, but I think we won’t have to find out. I think this is for the best.”

Again, she sent him that gaze he fell in love with all those years ago before she walked out.

So ironic that that would be the last thing he remembered from the conversation where she ended it all.

So ironic that the face that had brought him happiness for such a long time would be the face of the greatest pain he would ever feel.

A/N: how y’all feeling about that part 2?

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jujutsubaby · 3 months

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after hours (part 1)

☆ pairing: toji x afab!reader ☆ summary: toji, your objectively hot neighbor, needs a babysitter, and you need some cash. however, things are getting weird because he hasn't paid you in a week and rent is due... ☆ warnings: 18+. MINORS DNI. choking, oral sex (f!recieving), implied parent death, some public nudity, slight power dynamic ☆ tags: modernAU, babysittingAU ☆ a/n: lowkey wrote this with one hand if you catch my drift ꈍ .̮ ꈍ i'm thinking about doing more parts loosely based off of each other following y/n and a love triangle between gojo and toji. yes, they will be horny and yes i will *try* to have some plot let me LIVE okay (°◡°♡) let me know if that's something people are interested in :3 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"megumiiii~", you sing lightly, "it's time for beeed". it's way past 9pm, and if toji finds out his son was 30 minutes past his bedtime, he'll never let you forget the next time you babysit. not that you have any issue babysitting for your extremely built, ripped, hot, dilf of a neighbor, that is.

megumi groans and tears start lining his little eyes. "but i don't wanna~" he cries out. "there's only 30 minutes left on this show...", he tries to beg. you pick up the candy wrappers you secretly gave megumi after dinner as a treat for eating his veggies.

"okay, first of all, i let you stay up way longer than i should have. second, there's no way in hell am i gonna let you stay up and watch...oh god. you're watching euphoria?!" you exclaim, eyes widening at the thought of megumi watching all the inappropriate content without you even realizing. you hope it's too late in the night and he's far too sleepy and tired to actually retain anything he just watched. you grab the tv remote and turn it off, and pick up megumi in your arms. "c'mon bubs, you've got school tomorrow, and your daddy will be home soon", you whisper softly in his ear.

megumi yawns and mumbles while slowly drifting off. "but i'm not even that sweepyy...". by the time you make it upstairs to his room, megumi is knocked out. you smile softly at him, before quitely closing the door and heading downstairs to the living room to clean up the mess megumi had made.

you look at the time again. 9:45...toji should be back soon, you think to yourself. you decide on reviewing some of your notes for a final next week while euphoria continues to play on the background. you've personally never watched the show, but your roommate, shoko, was obsessed with jacob elordi and loved euphoria, but there was far too much nudity in it for you.

as if right on cue, shoko shoots you a text.

shoko: pls tell me ur balls deep in toji rn babe me n utahime are bored as hell and we need something exciting this friday night 😭

you giggle. it was no secret between you and three that your next door neighbor was insanely hot. you guys always joke about sleeping with toji. you quickly type back:

y/n: stfu what if he was next to me and read this text huh? never gonna happen you know that 🙄

it’s not like you’re not not down for that. you just don’t want to be all over him like everyone else in the neighborhood. you and shoko have seen the way some of these girls did not know how to act on nextdoor whenever toji went on one of his shirtless runs or drove megumi to and from school.

it’s also not like you’re a total virgin either. you’ve had your fair share of ex-boyfriends in the past, but you won’t lie…it has been a while since you’ve been with someone. your thoughts are interrupted by a response from shoko.

shoko: riiiighttt, that's why you asked to borrow my shortest n sluttiest skirt to "babysit" tn 😏

you shake your head, scoffing at your cheeky roommate. you love her, but there's a final next week that isn't going to pass itself. muting the show and putting on your headphones, you get lost in your class notes, reviewing all the important key points and ideas before your final next week. you don’t even notice toji opening the door and his keys clanging on the table as he takes off his shoes and groans after a long day of…work? you’re not entirely sure what he does for a living but you never really bothered to ask. and it’s partially why you were feeling nervous to ask toji about your babysitting payment for the last week, as he hadn’t paid you at all for it. toji heads to the kitchen and opens a cold bottle of beer and saunters to the living room, only to be met with a pair of 4k hd bare titties on the 60 inch tv in his living room and you on the sofa.

toji clears his throat loudly. “whatcha watching, y/n?”, he says cheekily. you look up at toji, startled by his entrance, and you look at the tv, and squeal at what’s on display.

“oh my god, mr. fushiguro! i-i-i have no ideas w-what’s playing. ohmygodidon’tevenknowwhatshowisplaying-” you start rambling, looking around frantically for the remote to turn the tv off.

“relax, y/n-kun”, toji coos. “i’m not judging you. never known anyone to do their best studyin’ while there are a pair of tits on screen, but you always find a way to surprise me.” toji chuckles as you turn off the tv, and moves closer to you so he can sit across the sofa.

“stop teasing me, mr. fushiguro~”, you whine., crossing your arms and pouting. “you know i’d never-“

“c’mon y/n, how many times do i have to tell you to call me toji? i’m not that much older than you, you know that right?”, toji reminds you.

your pout slowly turns into a smile as you laugh slightly. “okay, whatever you say, boomer,” you tease. you and toji both laugh gingerly. you both stare at the blank tv screen, marinating in the comfortable silence you both were familiar with. toji was right when he said he wasn’t much older than you. he was, after all, your age when he had megumi and was somehow making ends meet as a single parent, although you would be lying if you said you hadn’t seen a few women here and there that toji brought home every so often. it was never the same girl more than once, but you definitely knew he had some game, whether you liked it or not. wait, do you not like that he brings girls over?

you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you recall the uncomfortable conversation you need to have with toji. he senses the change in your mood and how you body stiffened up instead of its usually relaxed posture. toji frowns. “hey, what’s on your mind, pumpkin?”

“umm…well, i hope you don’t mind me asking this but…well, i’ve got to pay my portion of rent soon. a-and i’ve noticed that i haven’t gotten paid for the last w-week yet. sorry, i know things are rough but…i was wondering…” you trail off, pleading inside that toji can fill in the blanks himself and can figure out what you’re asking.

toji shifts towards you and locks eyes with you. you don’t really know what you were expecting to see but it sure wasn’t him smirking. you swear you saw a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes as he inches closer and closer to you. almost instinctively, you clench your thighs together, trying really hard not to think about the effect locking eyes with toji has on you.

“aw, i’m sorry, pumpkin.” toji feigns sympathy to you. “you see, i was going to pay you last week. remember when you went to tuck megumi in after last thursday? i had an envelope with the cash i owed you, and i went to put it in your bag, when your laptop chimed with a new message.” your face immediately drops. this can’t be what you think it is. you’re not entirely sure what toji could’ve seen, but also, isn’t this a violation of your privacy? you hold your breath and gulp, daring not to let toji sense how nervous you are.

“oh god, y/n. i didn’t want to look but it’s hard to look away when there’s a message that says ‘so have you fucked your hot dilf neighbor yet?’ don’t tell me you were only babysitting for me because you wanted me?” toji asks, raising an eyebrow, the scar near his lip lifting up slightly in a teasing grin.

“i-i don’t know w-what you’re talking about, toji~ why were you looking at my messages!” you accuse, your face growing hotter by the second with embarrassment and…lust? wait what no, he’s your neighbor you can’t do this! you can feel your panties getting more soaked by the second and you cannot bear to look at toji’s stupid handsome face, so you look at his hands. the way his large fingers rest on the sofa. how would they look around your neck? oh my god, snap out of it!

“why are you telling everyone but me you think i’m hot?” he counters, pulling you from your thoughts. “that reallyyy hurts my feelings, y/n-kun”, toji says as he pretends to pout. wait, when did he get so close to you?

“it’s s-so unprofessional i didn’t want to-“ you start rambling. toji is right next to you, his knees touching your knees. he stops you mid sentence by using his hands that are practically the size of your face to grab your jaw and force you to face him, as you let out a pathetic little whine.

“cut the shit, pumpkin. it’s just babysitting, okay. it’s not that serious,” toji spits harshly. every muscle in your body is on fire, and you have to actively prevent your eyes from rolling back. you swear you had a fantasy dream like this once (oh god, was it with toji?).

“don’t think i don’t see you looking sooo disappointed when i bring yet another girl home with me. hell, it even makes me feel bad…” toji trails off, as he loosens his grip on your jaw, slowly using his fingers to trace your jawline. you shiver at his touch. “hell, even i feel bad when i see your sad sad face drop. my poor girl…”, toji feigns a frown as he starts to softly trace the outline of your lips.

instinctively, you let out a quite moan when his fingers touch your lips. “i do, toji. i feel so sad when i see you with those other girls. i can’t stand it when someone else has you.” you confess, almost embarrassingly easily. your wide bambi eyes look at toji’s, and you’re not sure if you want to cry or beeline back to your place and forget this ever happened. or perhaps a secret third option where you give in to the desires you’ve had all along?

toji groans deeply as he shifts slightly in his seat, but before you’re able to look down and see the hardening tent in his pants, toji shoves his index and middle fingers into your mouth, taking you by surprise. you stifle out a moan before toji sticks them deeper down your throat.

he doesn’t even have to ask you to suck on them as you instinctively start to do so, making a show of gagging on them for toji’s pleasure. you feel warm as you hear toji let out a groan as he slips in a third finger, making you choke on them. your moans vibrate against his fingers and he hums in approval of how well you’re doing with no instruction from him.

“you’re doing so well, pumpkin,” toji hums, a string of saliva connecting his fingers to your mouth as he slowly takes his fingers out of your mouth.

alright, fuck it. this sends you over the edge. your lips crash into toji’s, teeth hitting each as you both get to know the shape of each others mouths. you bite his lip and that’s all it takes for toji to pull you onto his lap and deepen the kiss with his tongue, exploring every inch of your mouth. you feel the vibrations of his groans and your hips grind into his thigh as you put your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close as you can to him. your legs wrap around his torso as his hands grab your ass harshly. you let out a yelp into his mouth, daring not to end the kiss.

“oh you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you, pumpkin?” toji breaths against your neck after breaking the kiss. he begins to kiss your neck and you moan his name embarrassingly load.

“tojiiii~” you whine, “i need you, please~” you try to move your hips against him to feel some friction in the place you need it the most.

“shhh, you’re gonna wake m’gumi up,” he slurs in a low voice, already drunk off of your warmth. "not so fast, pumpkin", he says as he stills your hips, "i call the shots here." he grins and before you even know it, your back hits the sofa and he pulls your legs up on his shoulders.

you feel exposed, as shoko's pleated skirt does a poor job of leaving anything to the imagination, and all of a sudden, you really wish you wore your trusted boy shorts instead of your black lace thong under it. as he starts to kiss your ankles while looking deeply into your eyes, you see nothing but primal lust on his face. he lightly bites your ankle, making you slightly yelp before covering your mouth, remembering megumi upstairs.

toji's eyes wander to your sweet spot, and it's taking everything in you not to thrust your soaking core into his hungry face. "oh, is that where you want me to touch you?" he teases, his hands running down softly from your ankles to your inner thigh. your hips wiggle side to side, hoping his fingers end up grazing your aching core, but toji holds you hips down roughly. he scoots back and peppers your leg with kisses, slowly inching up and up until he's mere inches away from your panties.

he plants a wet kiss on your clothed mound and you let out a pathetic mewl as toji shoots his head up and stops dead in his tracks. "make another noise, pumpkin, and we end this right now and you go home frustrated and upset." he warns. unfortunately, this turns you on even more and your hands are over your mouth immediately, eyes shut closed, praying toji pities you and gives you some release.

you feel toji take off your panties agonizingly slowly, and your breath hitches. "oh, your panties are fully ruined. better get rid of them." toji says as he tosses them somewhere across the room.

"it's your fault..." you say, you voice a low whisper through your hands.

toji starts back at your mound again and moans into the kiss in agreement. his fingers lightly touch your core, and you shiver in anticipation. "oh, this is where your sensitive, right?" toji teases, as his fingers finally start circling the part of your delicate bud you've been aching for toji to touch. you bite your hand to prevent yourself from moaning loudly, and take deep breaths so to not make any noise.

toji starts circling your sensitive bud with his fingers, moving with your hips as you get to a rhythm that has you on cloud nine. you feel the familiar build up beginning, when toji abruptly takes his fingers away, leaving you breathless and practically whining from his lack of touch. "ohhh, don't worry, pumpkin. i just wanna taste you," he coos, before diving mouth first into your sensitive bud once more, tasting every inch of your delicate core.

this time, you're unable to hold back and your deep breaths are practically moans. you're laughing, whining, crying...you're not actually sure. you're mind is clouded by the pleasure toji's tongue is sending through your body.

toji's fingers start teasing your entrance as your hips buckle and you start grinding on his face. you're making a mess on his sofa but you don't even care, and neither does toji. "oh, toji, fuck~ that feels...soo good...fuck~" you whine. you're practically begging for his fingers inside you, and toji finally complies and inserts his finger inside you.

"please toji~", you whisper, "i need more, please, please."

"wow, someone's a bit greedy. one finger just isn't enough for a slut like you, huh?" toji chides, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your body. he inserts two more fingers, and you feel a pang of pain, which makes you yelp.

"toji~ it's too much," you cry out, unable to handle three of his large fingers inside you at once.

"oh, now it's a problem? you can take it, pumpkin." toji encourages, moving his fingers at a moderate pace while his mouth is still playing with your delicate bud. the pain slowly turns into pleasure, and the pleasure slowly turns into an inevitable build up that's starting to cloud your vision.

"toji~" you whine. "i'm getting so close, please..." you trail off, trying your hardest to lower your moans.

"please what?" toji asks, knowing full well what you wanted, and that he was the only person able to give it you. toji's member was practically begging for escape against his dark pants, but he was far too drunk on your sweet nectar. he doesn't remember the last time he tasted someone as addicting as you.

"please, can i...c-can i...?" you don't get to finish your sentence before toji groans a "yes" into your core, and the dam that had been building finally burst as you release all over toji's face.

you pant heavily as you finish, hoping you weren't too loud. toji lifts his head from between your legs and immediately darts to your lips, kissing you deeply before you can say anything. you moan into the kiss, still feeling the effects of your orgasm rippling through your sensitive body. you taste yourself in toji's kiss and you never want it to end. a whine escapes your mouth when toji's lips finally disconnect from yours, an unashamed smile playing on toji's face. "did you like that, pumpkin?" he asks.

you're still catching your breath as you nod and smile, gazing at him softly. you can't help but want to return the favor for toji, as you slowly get up and scan toji up and down. god, he's so fucking fit.

you scoot closer to toji, maintaining eye contact, and placing your hands on his upper thigh. oh my god, his legs are just pure rock hard muscle. your hands shake slightly as they make their way on top of toji's hard straining member. toji chuckles as you grasp him over his dark pants, stopping you in your tracks by grabbing your wrist and moving it away from him.

"woah, hold on there y/n. it's 11pm. a bit too late to start something now, dontcha think?" he inquires, raising his eyebrows at you.

heat rises to your cheeks and you feel so embarrassed you could combust. oh my god, wait, does he not want you to return the favor? the insecurity showed up immediately on your face, with your lips frowning and eyebrows scrunching. toji cups the side of your face endearingly and his thumb grazes your lower lip before letting it sit there.

"hey, don't give me that look. i want this. i want you but...it's late. megumi has school tomorrow and it's parent teacher night. i know you have class, too," he explains.

you pout, but not before sucking toji's thumb that was grazing your lower lip and giving it a wet kiss. "that's not fair~ i really want to return the favor toji..." your voice trails, as you already know this conversation is over. you sigh as you turn away from him and reach for your notebook and laptop on the coffee table. you get up and bend down to grab your bag and start packing your belongings and fishing out your keys.

you hear toji hum and turn around to see the gears twisting in his dark eyes that are fixated on you. wait, hold on. he's not looking at you. he's looking at your ass. and he's being so obvious and unashamed about it, too!

you blush and roll your eyes as you chide toji. "wow, so you don't want me to suck your dick but you're gonna look at my ass as i leave?"

toji laughs earnestly and the sound of his laughter makes you feel warm and relaxed inside. you could probably live the rest of your life hearing that laugh. wait, what? rest of your life?

"first off, i do want you to suck me off, pumpkin. second, am i not allowed to respectfully admire? anyway, i was thinking. maybe you come with us to the parent-teacher meeting tomorrow? you practically help the kid with his homework every other night, and i think he really sees you as someone he can trust." toji says, bringing you out of your thoughts. you notice the hidden solitude behind his eyes, and feel a pang of melancholy in your heart. you don't know much about toji and megumi's mom, and you never thought it appropriate to discuss with either one of them, so you always let it be. a part of you is curious and another part is afraid to touch such a vulnerable side to toji, fearing it may alter your relationship with him permanently.

"we can grab dinner before, too. my treat." toji winks, and you scoff. he never even makes sure there's food for you at home before he leaves, always leaving you to pay for your own dinner every night you babysit, let alone pay a meal for you.

you roll your eyes, trying to act upset, but a giggle breaks out anyway. "yeah, i'd love to." you respond genuinely.

you finish packing up your things before searching for your discarded panties in toji's living room. "looking for these?" toji teases, holding up your lacy black thong, still ruined with the mess you made earlier today.

"give 'em back, toji~" you say, trying to reach for the panties from toji, before he stuffs them in his pocket.

"i think i'll keep these actually. they need to go in the laundry anyway, might as well be here." he teases, as you pout. toji cracks an evil grin, knowing deep down you must love having to go back home without any panties in your short skirt.

and he was right, you kinda did love it. a blush creeps up to your cheeks as you shake your head in dismay. "you're so fuckin' annoying, y'know?" you say as toji interlaces his fingers with yours as he walks to you to the door.

"yeah, i know. let's see if you're still that mouthy after you choke on me tomorrow," toji says, giving you a playfully menacing look.

the cool air of the late night nips at your skin, making you shiver, but you know deep down that has more to do with thinking about all the things toji will do to your poor throat tomorrow evening. "hm, we'll see...," you say, as your breath hitches slightly. you stand up on your tippy toes to give a quick peck goodnight to toji.

you honestly should've known better because toji immediately leans forward and turns the quick kiss into a deep make out session in the chill yet humid night air. he's quick to grab your ass, and you're quick to regain your senses and break off the kiss. oh my god, what if someone saw us, you think, recalling all the girls in the neighborhood that fawn over toji and the fact that you weren't wearing panties thanks to toji.

"stop toji~ it's late like you said," you whine, wriggling out of his strong grasp. you turns you around, you back flush against him and he laughs into your neck, arms wrapping your hips tightly from behind.

he releases you but not before giving you one last squeeze. "goodnight, pumpkin."

"night, toji," you say softly as you turn around and head to your car in the driveway. you do a poor job of pulling your skirt down as low as it can possibly get without you looking incredibly stupid, and cross your arms in the cold breeze.

you hear the door close, and start up the car engine and back out, relying only on muscle memory to get you home, as you spend the entire five minute car ride thinking solely about everything that happened today. how were you ready for another release already? you make a mental note to charge your vibrator when you get back to your apartment.

just as you pulled into the drive way, you jaw fell and you remembered. oh shit wait, he still hasn't paid me.

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spookychick78 · 11 months

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OG Michael Myers One Shot

A little continuation of the parking garage one shot as requested by the lovely @slasherhoe87 🖤🔪

also, its becoming glaringly obvious how much of a Myers simp I am with how much shit I’ve written about this man.

OG!Michael Myers X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: (Y’all knew this was coming) NSFW, Knife play, blood play, choking

Word Count: 3,697

In the following weeks, (Y/n) couldn't stop thinking of the man in the mask. She found herself searching for him around every corner, down every alley way and through every window. It hadn't taken her long to put it together that whoever he was had been the one causing that undeniable feeling of being watched, but why? He had left her with so many questions and now close to a month since it had happened, she wondered if she would ever get answers.

She put her car in park and exited into the cool night air. The parking garage that had so often than not made her uneasy had begun to excite her every time she came home. Though, that night her excitement had started to fade. He was never there and honestly, she wondered if maybe he had been a figment of her imagination after all. She hurried towards the little room with the elevators and as she opened the door she turned and gave the empty lot one more lingering glance. Nothing.

Michael scoffed as he watched her. She wasn't quite as adept as he was at finding her obsession, though he found her efforts amusing. How funny it was that he had become her obsession, he thought to himself. He took note of her constantly wandering eyes that almost always fell in his direction, unaware that he was indeed there, hidden in the shadows. She had been close several times, but it had become a game to him and one Michael was inevitably better at than she was. He had more patience. Usually. However, it was wearing thin. He too hadn't been able to forget the night he had shown himself to her. It had undoubtedly been a mistake to touch her. The feeling of her skin against his hand, though the exchange was mere seconds, had ignited a desire within him he didn't know he was capable of possessing. Michael couldn't deny himself much longer, he wanted to know her and more than just by the surface level knowledge he'd managed to obtain by just watching. Observing from a distance no longer satisfied him, he wanted more. He wondered if she would be frightened when she finally found what she was looking for. Part of him hoped she would be, fear had looked so delicious on her and he hadn't even been the one to cause it, not entirely. He wanted that pleasure, but he wouldn't end her life. Perhaps he would bring her to the brink of death or perhaps he'd let those carnal thoughts guide him elsewhere. He had never given into them before, he wasn't even sure he had ever had them until he saw her. It was maddening not to know what exactly it was about her that had lured him in so completely. Maybe it was how petite she was in comparison to him, Michael did enjoy feeling larger than life. He knew if he was to wrap his hands around her throat they would all but engulf her. His frame pressed against her's could minimize her being so entirely that she would practically disappear from existence within his arms. Or maybe it was the challenge that excited him to the point of discomfort within his coveralls. He would have to exercise restraint like he never had before in order for her to survive being so entangled with him, because in reality he could end her life in seconds if he didn't. Her fate and possible demise would be in his hands the moment they met her skin once more. The entirety of their proverbial 'moon dance' would cascade along that ever thinning line between life and death. He wondered if she had any idea of the fire she was playing with, head canted to the side as he watched her eyes scan the empty garage in search of him once again.

She let out a frustrated sigh and let the door swing shut behind her. She pressed the button for the elevator, just once this time. She intended to waste as much time as humanly possible just in case he appeared. The doors began to separate, filling the room with their high pitched squeaking and she decided to give up on her search for the night. She slipped inside the cabin and reluctantly pressed the button for her floor. She leaned her back against the wall as she watched the doors close in on each other. Before each end could meet, they creaked to a halt. A hand had come between them, it retracted once the doors began to move outward. They were slower than ever as they reopened and she impatiently craned her neck to catch a glimpse of whom she would be sharing the brief ride upwards with, but found no one was there. She furrowed her brows and took a step forward. Before she could look out the doors, she was pushed back against the wall with a hand around her throat. After the initial shock had worn off, she looked up to see the white mask with the blackest holes looking down on her once again. He held her in place as the doors squeaked shut. After he was certain they were closed, he released his grip on her. (Y/n)'s chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch the breath he'd knocked out of her.

"It's you," she panted.

She wasn't quite sure if it was fear or unbridled excitement she was feeling, but she surmised it was a dangerous, possibly deadly combination of the two that made her quickly reach her hand past him and lock the elevator. She quickly drew her arm back in and pressed herself back against the wall.

Michael slowly turned his head to see what she had done, moderately impressed by the confidence she had just displayed by assuming he wouldn't kill her. He returned his gaze to her and smirked behind his mask when he saw that subtle hint of fear hidden within her eyes. So she wasn't totally confident, but curious enough to trust him. He would have reminded her that it was curiosity that killed the cat, but he wasn't going to grant her the pleasure of hearing his voice, yet. She would have to be the one to end the silence between them if she had the courage to do so.

She had so many questions, but each of them seemed so nonsensical given the fact that he had never uttered a single word to her. She was almost certain he wouldn't answer any of them, but she had to say something. After waiting so long for this moment, it only seemed wrong to waste it.

"Who," she started, but stopped and rethought the first words she wanted to say, "why did you save me from that man? Why did you kill him but not me?"

Michael tilted his head. Would she have preferred he hadn't? It wasn't necessarily that he had saved her, he wasn't even sure that was the right word. Saving her for himself maybe, that would have been a better way to describe it. Someone had merely threatened to take her before he could and Michael wasn't one to share. She would soon learn that, if he hadn't made it clear enough for her before, he was about to. She waited so patiently for a response, her (e/c) eyes seemingly trying to decipher his features behind the mask without physically removing it. Her curiosity made her appear so innocent as she gazed up at him, inadvertently fueling his desire to take that innocence for himself. Though he had to admit, he found it somewhat endearing that she was so entranced by him she didn't even realize the position she could have possibly put herself in, were he not so obsessed with her in his own regard. He brought his hand up to her cheek as he had done before, but this time he let his fingertips explore the softness of her skin. She was truly delicate, he thought to himself as he let them wander down to her lips. She parted them for him. He raised his eyebrows behind his mask as he traced her bottom lip, just barely allowing himself inside her mouth, and felt moisture coat the top of his fingers. He brought his hand up to study his own skin that had been wet by her, the sight of that alone brought an urge to taste her to the surface.

"Who are you?" She asked as she watched his silent observation.

His eyes shot back to her. She had asked that once before, only now he was more willing to oblige her with an answer, to some degree. It was purely based on his own desire, but it might satisfy her questions for the time being. He brought both hands to the back of his mask and slowly peeled the rubber off of himself. He kept his head down and observed what was for the majority of the world his face in his own hands, but for her and only her, he would show himself as he truly was. He knelt down and gently set it aside before towering above her again. As he lifted his head, he told himself he was only doing it because he needed to if he was going to do what he was about to do, that was all. Though even Michael knew there was a part of him that felt she was deserving, even if he couldn't explain why.

(Y/n)'s face started to heat up when she realized the man behind the mask was undoubtedly handsome. He was much younger than she had expected he would be, it seemed he wasn't far off from her age. He had dark curls that framed his near perfectly structured face, the only imperfection being the scar that ran through one of his eyes. His jaw was clenched as though he was somewhat nervous under her gaze, but that subtle movement of his muscles accentuated his prominent jawline further. His brows were knit together in an almost disapproving way over his expressionless eyes, one blue, one milky white and his mouth kept tightly shut as she studied him. Each feature had such a unique and unexplainable draw that she found herself wanting to touch him, to further inspect the ever so silent and stoic man before her. Her hand wandered up, but before she could touch him, he flinched and those disapproving brows furrowed tighter than before. She held her hand in place midair as she watched him contemplate the interaction. He blinked his eyes as he studied her hand, then turned his gaze to meet her's, granting her passage to continue. She slowly reached forward and let her fingertips touch his cheek first, then steadily rested her palm over him to hold the side of his face in her hand. His eyes flickered shut and his brows relaxed at the strange new sensation. She was warm against his cool skin and he found himself resting in her touch, his head fell slightly to the side to give in further. She watched, fascinated by the way he seemed to relish in the minimal contact as if he had been starved a lifetime for it. He finally opened his eyes and took her hand in his to bring it to his lips. He didn't kiss her fingers, he simply brushed them over his skin, unsure of what exactly it was he wanted to do. Her skin was so soft.

"Won't you tell me your name?" She said softly.

Needy, he thought to himself as he began to kiss her fingers. He told himself he'd only tell her so he could hear how it sounded coming from her mouth.

"Michael," he whispered back.

"Michael," she repeated gently.

It sounded better than he'd expected in her breathy, distracted tone and it fanned those flames she'd lit within him further. Her fingers were no longer satisfying him, he needed to explore her further. He wanted her to say his name again against his lips. He dropped her hand and reached both of his forward to cup her face as he pressed his body against her's and engulfed her lips in a kiss so hungry it made her knees weak. As she melted into it she couldn't help but notice the desperation he had for her pressed up against the top of her thigh. She wasn't sure how much he would allow her to do, but as if he had read her mind, he took her arms and draped them over his shoulders in one swift movement before his hands returned to her face. She took some liberty and tangled her fingers in the curls that hung just above the back of his neck. As she tugged on his hair, Michael pressed harder against her and paid no mind to the moan that escaped his lips. He had been absolutely right, restraining himself was going to be a challenge, one more difficult than he'd expected. He wanted so badly to hear her say his name again, but this time he wanted her to cry it out. He needed to regain some control, because she had more than he realized she would with the way her fingers sent chills down his spine every time she pulled on his locks. Then she shifted against him, rubbing him so that it made him ache in such a devastatingly good way. His hand instinctively flew to her throat and wrapped itself around it in a tight embrace. She let out a gasp and he smirked against her kiss, it was the power shift he needed to know he was still in control no matter what she did or what he wanted her to do to him. He broke away from her, hand still tightly wound around her neck to keep her in place against the wall. He watched a smiled spread across her face as he struggled to catch his uneven breath. He wasn't sure what he liked more, to see her frightened or to see her look so proud of what she was doing to him. Her pride reignited that challenge he so adored, it made him want to force her to unravel, to bring her to the brink of death, but in a different way. He would make her beg for mercy and after he was done with her, she would beg for more. A smile of his own spread across his face as he reached his free hand into his pocket to retrieve his knife. When he revealed it to her he delighted in the way her smile fell and fear flickered in her eyes. He brought it down to the bottom of her dress and removed his hand from her throat to pull the material taut before he took the blade and sliced the fabric upwards. The sound of it ripping bounced off of the elevator's walls and combined with her accelerated breath, Michael was entranced. He finally reached the top and let the knife continue it's ascent upwards until the blade rested underneath her chin. She craned her neck up with it and looked at him with that same hint of excitement he'd seen in her when he first entered. She watched his grip tighten on the knife's handle until his knuckles turned pale as if he was fighting the urge to plunge it into her. She hesitantly brought her hands up to his and guided the knife to the side of her neck. If he was going to kill her he would have by now and by this point she was just as eager as he was to continue this dance, so her next words came perhaps a little too easy.

"I trust you, Michael," she breathed as she guided his knife down the side of her neck.

His was captivated by the sight of her blood dripping out from under his blade and down to her shoulder. His pupils became overblown as his desire reached its boiling point. He cast the knife aside and grabbed her by her shoulders to flip her around. He ripped her dress from her body and quickly did away with the rest of the cloth so that no part of her was hidden. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her back against him and craned her neck back so he could drag his tongue up towards the cut she had allowed him to give her. He collected her blood in his mouth then focused his attention on the wound, sucking with such brutality she could already feel the bruise he would leave forming under his lips. Once he had cleaned her with his tongue, he pushed her forward so that her cheek was pressed against the wall. The sound of his zipper being pulled down filled her ears and in turn, filled her with such a buzzing excitement she could barely wait the few seconds it took for him to free himself. Finally, she felt him line himself up at her entrance and without warning, he invaded her with one firm thrust that shook her to her core. Pain intermingled with a burning and intense pleasure unlike any she had felt before. He hung his head over her shoulder and the sound of his uneven breath filled her ear as he began to set a brutal and unforgiving pace. She struggled to keep her balance as he rocked into her and he seemed to take note. He wrapped an arm around her and rested his other hand against the wall, steadying the both of them as he continued his pursuit to leave her in shambles. At the same time, he himself was overwhelmed by the pleasure her tightly wound body was granting him. Sensations crept upwards from where their bodies met and into his core, tangling together inside of him like knots on the verge of snapping. His hand against the wall balled into a fist, tightening in tandem with those knots as he pushed himself inside of her with more force than before. Her head fell back against him and a cry ripped from her throat, along with a slew of praises. It was then he got what he wanted.

"Michael," she cried out as her face contorted into an expression that could only be described as pained bliss.

He was almost too much for her to take, his size combined with the intensity of his movements made her burn in a way she hadn't before. That searing sensation made her shake in his grip as he pummeled the sweet spot nestled deep inside of her. She desperately needed something to cling to as she neared the edge. She wasn't sure her legs would hold. Her hand flew back in search of his shoulder, but she barely had a sense of direction at that point.

"Michael," she keened once more as she clutched at the blue cloth of his coveralls tightly.

Without warning, he ceased his movements and removed himself from her, causing her to whine from the sudden empty feeling he'd so cruelly left her with. He flipped her around and swiftly hoisted her up so her legs could wrap around his waist. He lowered her back onto him and once he was certain she wouldn't fall, he let his hands find the back of her head so he could force her lips to his again. His fingers tangled in her hair as he attempted to keep her lips on his, but at the pace he was going, it was anything but neat. Still, she returned his sloppy kisses with the utmost enthusiasm as she felt herself approaching her climax. She reached behind her head and guided his hand in between their bodies to a spot he hadn't yet discovered. She placed his calloused fingers over her clit and guided them in little circles. It didn't take long for him to get the hang of it, but still, he followed her lead. With each circle their fingers drew together he could feel her body tightening around him more so than he thought possible. Before long, she broke their kiss and he watched her head fall back, mouth agape as her body fluttered around him. Somewhere between the way she looked, the sound of his name falling from her lips like a prayer and the trembling of her body around his, Michael came completely and utterly undone. His head fell into the crevice between her shoulder and neck as his body all but collapsed into her. It was a concerted effort to maintain his hold on her, but he did and he made sure his grip was tight around her thighs.

"(Y/n)," she heard him breath into her ear before he spilled into her.

She didn't even stop to think about the fact that she hadn't once told him her name, all she could focus on was the way his breath felt on her skin, the burn of fresh bruises on her thighs and how wonderful it felt to have been undeniably marked by him. Michael would never admit it out loud, but in a way, she had claimed him for her own as well. Though his movements had ceased, he didn't want to leave her warmth. He breathed in her scent and pressed his lips to her shoulder as she draped her arms around his neck. There was no doubt she was in shambles, just as he had intended, but he feared he was in a far worse state than he had been in before. When he lifted his head up to look at her once more, that only worsened it. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled and her eyes were glassy as she smiled lazily at him. He felt his chest tighten in a strange way as she leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, gentle as rain. Obsessed was now an understatement.

#Michael Myers #michael my beloved #michael audrey myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers smut #og michael myers #slasher #slasher smut #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #HORROR SMUT #horror fiction #slasher fucker #my husband

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chronicbeans · 1 year

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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 5)

The silly man's actions are finally being noticed by the higher-ups oh no

Tw: Obsessive Behaviors, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Idol Worshipping, Mentions of Death Threats, Mentions of Stalking

🎥 You look around at everyone that the boss has gathered. It is practically the whole camera crew, all of the directors, all the puppeteers, and the few extra voice actors. The boss, who prefers to just be called 'Boss' by their workers, is standing in the center of the crowd they have gathered, looking at everyone with a keen eye.

🎥 Finally, they begin to speak. "I am sure everyone knows why we have gathered here today? I have heard your complaints. The eerie letters and drawings (Y/N) has been getting, Eddie's puppet having a bunch of colorful envelopes dumped on him by the time we return in the morning to work for three nights in a row. I have even heard that Frank's puppet has had a whole dictionary placed on top of him. You know, the one we use to try to come up with rhymes or ways to explain topics to kids? I have heard your pleas, so I have brought us all here to come up with a solution that would satisfy us all."

🎥 Eddie's puppeteer looks around, an anxious look in their eyes, before they raise their hand. The boss calls on them, prompting them to stand and speak. Their tone is frantic as they explain "I am most worried about the... the odd messages. Recently, it isn't just (Y/N) who has been getting them! I've gotten some odd ones, requesting me to mail things to people. They always come with an extra note that's meant for the person who I need to send it to... I did so, because the notes addressed to me contained these... Grizzly threats against me..."

🎥 Wally's voice actor stands up suddenly, pointing to the puppeteer. They speak in a harsh tone, asking "Did you get any mail for me? Any notes addressed to me?" The person in question simply nods, muttering "Yeah... I just leave them by the door to your recording booth."

🎥 The voice actor continues, their eyes moving to the boss, a glare in them "I TOLD you, Boss! Now I have the proof! Whoever this little freak is that's been bothering us has been sending notes to practically everyone here! Every morning so far, ever since a few weeks ago, I've had these envelopes outside my recording booth. When I opened them, they were filled with horrible threats against me AND my family! I don't know how they found out about my kids, but they did, and they have been threatening them! Sometimes, there are even drawings taped all along the walls of my booth that, although scribbles, I can tell are meant to be me or my family dying."

🎥 You slunk in your seat as more and more people begin talking at once, their voices growing louder and louder the longer they talk. From letters to drawings, everyone has something to pitch in. Someone even mentions how they had paint dumped onto them, hence the red stain on the carpet by the filing cabinets. Eyes being painted on the walls by the large Home set is a new one, but not necessarily something you are shocked by. A lot of your drawings recently include eyes, which only makes your paranoid feelings of being watched so much worse... The boss' eyes widen as they raise their hands, shouting "Everyone calm down! This will be dealt with! That's why we're here, right? Stay calm!"

🎥 After a few deep breaths, you raise your hand. After being called on, you ask "I told you to check the cameras and ask the security guards. Have you found anything?" The boss grows quiet, before scratching the back of their head and answering your question "Well... The guards have gone missing. The only remaining one quit, saying there was a ghost or something. The cameras didn't hold much useful information. They didn't show anything, but I have noted that as of a few months ago, they have been turning off around the time that filming stops. The tech guys have been on the case, but found nothing wrong, so far."

🎥 You are about to ask another question, when Wally's voice actor speaks up again, their tone just as agitated as before "Why not have us all take a holiday while this is sorted out? We have no big projects set up, just some regular episodes! The public has plenty of episodes to keep them satisfied right now! I'm sure like... Three days won't harm you! A group of volunteers and I could just stay overnight to try to catch this freak and figure out why they are doing this! Less money from your pockets from property damage, hiring new security guards on the spot from desperation and having them fail horribly, and halfhearted repairs to the cameras." They then look around, asking "Who's with me on this idea? The boss has still got to hire guards and fix the cameras, but we can rid ourselves of this nuisance faster!"

🎥 After a few moments of silence, some people from the crowd raise their hands. You recognize them as the puppeteers for Eddie, Poppy, Julie, and Frank. There are also a few camera operators, and one director. You are about to raise your hand, when Wally's voice actor stops you. They pat you on the shoulder, saying "Look, I know you wanna get rid of this guy as much as everyone else, but I must say... You are in the most danger here, in my opinion. Whoever this is, they are after you the most. You are their target. I may not necessarily like you, but I am not heartless enough to let you come waltzing in here at the dead of night to confront this person. Plus, you got a kid you're caring for, right? You should just get some rest, if the boss agrees with this."

🎥 As all eyes turn towards the boss. They clearly are conflicted. If the rumors being spread around the set are true, they are a bit of a penny pincher, willing to do anything to make a quick buck and not lose any money in the process. However, it seems like their better conscience gets the best of them as they say "Fine. I'll give you all a holiday. For the people who decide to show up, take care of the puppets. I don't want to return to see them in bad shape. Keep me updated. You have THREE days to find and catch this person. No more, no less. This meeting is over. Have a nice holiday."

#welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home arg

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forever-once-gone · 3 months

Text

Day 2: Seokjin - How he had once claimed you as his <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February!

Word count: 6.3k (obviously, I am once again failing the task of keeping these short lol)

Content and Warnings: yandere au, supernatural au, love, murder, child neglect, fighting parents, child abandonment, reader has a disdain for her fellow humans, reader's father is a deadbeat, reader's mother disappears, Jin is a man (?) obsessed, possessiveness, illusions to future inter-clan wars, vows of commitment, death, starvation, kissing.

Author's Note: I have no self control. This is again much longer than it should be. At this point it would be considered a whole fic, not a drabble. Also, this is dedicated to @rosquilleta, @/teacakess on Ao3, and the anon who sent me a kind ask ONLY 😤. Thank you dears for commenting 🥰🥰🥰 You guys gave me motivation to write!

You pulled your clothes off, letting them pool at your feet. The day had been rough, foraging through the woods all day took quite a load out of you. You had to go into the forest that surrounded your small town to gather some herbs and other plants and fungi to sell in your little shop. It was hard to maintain the quickly depleting stocks in your shop since you were the only person left who dared to venture into the accursed forest.

You once had a mother who cared for you dearly. She had been warm and loving, and had done everything she could do to raise you after your father had refused to stand up and divulge the fact that he—despite being the village leader’s son—was the secret lover of your mother when she had gotten pregnant. He would often sneak into your house by the outskirts of town when you were a child to try and convince your mother that he had had no choice.

“I’m sorry, dear, you know my father would never accept our relationship. A child out of wedlock? With an orphaned woman, especially from your lineage? It would never work. We’d no doubt be thrown out into the accursed forest, and where would that leave us? Leave Y/n?”

Your mother would never meet his eyes, she never had since the day he’d refused to claim you and your mother at the town meeting. Instead, she’d just make it clear that he had no place in her or your life any more. “I don’t know why you’re here, your highness.”

“Don’t call me that,” he’d beg. “I’m not a prince, I’m not anything like that. We are one, my love. Stop mocking me with those words. We’re equal here.”

“You may not be a prince, nor have any royal blood, but your words make it clear that you think you’re high above me. My lineage? What do you mean by that? You know as well as anyone that there is nothing about me that is cursed. Just because my family was the only one brave enough to enter into the forest, doesn’t mean that we’re cursed! You surely didn’t think I was cursed before I became with child!”

“Do not twist my words, my love. You know I do not think of you like that, but you must admit it is strange how every member of your family had disappeared in those woods for centuries. You cannot ignore how implicating that is, my dear.” He had raised his hands in an almost pleading manner, trying to play to your mother’s emotions.

But your mother had little to no feelings left for the one who had been her biggest betrayer. “My family may have all disappeared into the woods, but that is only because we’re the only ones who actually dare to enter it! And you cannot ignore the fact that anyone else who was not in my family line who had entered the forest, did not ever return, even though it was all of their first time entering the woods. The fact that my family has, for generations, been able to enter and leave the forest for years, before we finally disappear. Compared to everyone who disappears the first time they enter,I think we may be the blessed ones, not cursed. Besides, nobody seems to think we’re cursed when they want the herbs, vegetables, and fruits we bring back from the forest.” Your mother saw you peeking out from the bedroom.

“Y/n, go back inside, dear. You do not have to hear this.” She began to walk towards the door, shooing you further into the room. “Go to sleep.” She softly clicked the door closed after giving you a reassuring smile.

You walked back into bed, pulling the various knit blankets over you as you heard your mother telling your father that he had overstayed his welcome once again.

Spending nights hearing your parents arguing in the next room over, was not new to you. As far back as you can remember, your father would covertly enter your house to try and get your mother to forgive him, to let him be a father to you. He would bring you clothes, sometimes toys, other times blankets to try and win you over. You would politely take the objects before your mother would usher you back into your room.

But you knew better than to think that he actually meant to make it up to your mother. He’d always ask for forgiveness, but never ask to accept her and reveal to the village that you were his child. Your mother had questioned him the night of your ninth birthday—the last birthday you had with her—of what his true intentions were of coming here, night after night. He’d been a bumbling mess, too embarrassed to say in front of your mother that he really had no intentions of revealing anything. He really just wanted to relieve himself of his guilt, or at least, that’s what it had seemed like to you.

If he really cared, he would stand by your mother and yourself.

But then again, he never married following his parting from your mother.

You would wait to hear the front door shut behind your father. You would hear silence as your mother sat at the dining table for, usually, ten to twenty minutes after he’d left before she’d slink back into the room with you. She’d get into bed, and pull you against her chest. Her hand would smooth over your head, and sometimes she’d whisper apologises to you, thinking you were asleep.

She had been the only one who took care of you in your life, the only true one to care for you.

When your mother had disappeared in the forest only a few weeks before your tenth birthday, you had been beyond distraught.

You had cried in the town square all morning and afternoon, when you had woken up and realized that your mother had not returned in the night. You had begged for someone to help you, to look in the forest for you, to find her. Everyone had walked right past all of you, ignoring your little crying form, clothes soiled from the dirt that you had collapsed in when the village leader had turned you away.

Your father had seemed like he wanted to say something, hesitating when he had found you in the square on his way back to his home. But, in the end, he had walked away from you, leaving you to cry until you lost consciousness.

When you had finally come to, it was the middle of the night. No one was around. The air was cold. And your fingertips had lost all feeling, stiff as you tried to wiggle them around. You had sat up, hoping that you’d see your mother emerging from the forest at the edge of your vision, but you saw no such thing. No such blessing.

You had to pick yourself up from that cold dirt floor, and trudge your way back to your house by the edge of the glade. You had, again, hoped that you’d open the door to find your mother, tending to the fire in the fireplace. Perhaps, stirring a pot that she had hung in it, as she smiled at you, letting you know dinner was almost ready.

But life was not that kind to you.

The few weeks had been tough. You had to learn how to care for yourself all by yourself. You used up all the stored food that your mother would have sold if she had not disappeared. People had not come to your house expecting to buy anything, like they used to when your mother was still around. You had used those supplies and what you had to feed yourself, but when they had come to an end (other than a few jars of preserves, your mother had jarred only a few days before she disappeared that you did not have the heart to open yet), you realized you had to do something to find food.

You had properly dressed up for the first time since your mother’s disappearance. You had ventured out to the river that passed through the glade and bathed. You had scrubbed every last ounce of built up oil from your hair. You had put on your best clothes. You had picked up your basket from the shelf where you used to keep all the items your mother used to sell. And threw on the cloak your mother had sewed for you.

And you did what your family had always done when there was nothing left for them in the village.

You entered the woods.

Your mother had brought you into the woods intermittently from when you were young. You supposed she once had to take you every time when she ventured into the woods when you were a newborn, as there was no one else to take care of you. But by the time you had become old enough not to die of starvation or neglect if left alone for a few hours (about 2 and a half years old), she had begun to cut your trips to the woods. She would leave you alone at home with a snack and some water, promising to return soon.

Following that, she had rarely brought you into the forest. Only a few times in the year. And that was only because she had told you: “One day, I’m sure the forest will take me just like it did my father. Before then, I need you to learn how to navigate the forest, because it will become your only source of trading power with the other villagers, you understand me? It will be tough to be on your own—it was for me too—but I want you to be better prepared for the woods than I was when my father disappeared. I just don’t want you to starve like I did when it happened to me.” Her eyes had darkened. “Not one of those villagers will come to help you, Y/n. Not one.”

You repeated those words to yourself the first time you had entered the forest alone, following the routes that your mom would go through. You foraged for the berries she had shown you, the root vegetables that she had taught you to identify from the stalks that were visible above the dirt, and you checked the traps that your mother had left for small game.

Fortunately, each of the traps had worked and caught a small prey. But unfortunately, all of the animals had started to rot from not being collected all these weeks later. Some had even been scavenged, leaving mangled messes of flesh. You just released the traps, and pushed the corpses away with a stick before re-preparing the traps.

You unconsciously looked around, fearing that you may end up stumbling across your mother’s corpse in a similar stage as the animals you had scraped off the traps. For better or for worse, you had not.

Before the sun could get even close to setting, you returned home. And when you entered the house, a sense of heaviness pushed down on you. A heaviness that came with the realization that this was your new life. You were alone, left to fend for yourself in the forest if you hoped to survive. Left alone to mourn your mother. Mourn her, until you also, just like all your ancestors before you, also disappeared out in the forest.

At least, then, the ghosts of your ancestors could sigh in relief that there would be no more orphaned descendents/children fighting to survive in the glade anymore after you.

You took off the cloak you were wearing and stepped out of your muddied shoes. Only when you sat down at the dining table did you realize something had changed from the way it had been before you had left that morning.

There was a package wrapped up in a sheet on your table. Your breath stopped for a second; could this be from your mother? Was she still alive?

You carefully pulled off the sheet from the contents within, only to find some clothes, a bag of flour, and some goat’s milk along with a note.

I’m so sorry, dear Y/n.

I cannot be the father you deserve, but I will try to provide for you when I can.

Happy birthday, sweet child.

Regrettably,

Your inadequate father.

P.S. I know you will not believe me, but I also miss your mother as much as you do.

Your disdain had grown for him tenfold that night.

Nobody bought from you the first few days after you ventured into the forest. You liked to think it was due to them feeling guilt for how they practically left you to die when your mother disappeared. But you knew the truth, it was much more likely they were worried that you were still unstable and could lash out on them. But after a week of you putting up the open sign by your front door, two mothers had come to you unabashedly, asking for the one of the types of root vegetables your mother used to get from the forest in exchange for a couple eggs.

When the two women had been able to leave your house unharmed, the others slowly made their way back to making their visits to your little house, offering trades and money for the goodies that only grew in the accursed forest. And with that, you had set a routine. A routine involving spending half your time in the woods and half your time in the glade.

And with this routine, you were able to brave your way through the days, then the weeks, the months, and even the years.

And before you knew it, you were twenty-five. Had spent much more time on your own than the time you had spent with your mother. Over fifteen years since she had disappeared without a trace.

It had also been fifteen years since you had truly felt cared for.

Sure, your father still left you gifts here and there. But that didn’t make any warmth spread through your body. It didn’t help the fact that you hadn’t had anyone to laugh with in all these years. No one to talk to about anything beyond types of vegetables and game. The only time when you had a conversation longer than a couple of words was when one of the men from the village would try and haggle with you for a rabbit that you had brought back in from the forest that morning.

Your father was not much comfort either.

He still wrote you short messages when he would leave packages on your doorstep, but they were as worthless as all those visits he made to see your mother when she was still around. His reassurances were hollow, and you didn’t care to give him the time of day.

You’d become just like your mother, in that even when you saw him around, you’d always turn the other way. In a way, he brought you a bit closer to your mother, since your hatred for him made you understand her cold-shoulder towards him.

You never felt more alone than when you were in the glade with the other villagers, father be damned.

That is why, other than to sleep and to sell your goods, you tended to stay in the accursed forest as much as you could. Even though it made the villagers whisper how you must be more dangerous than your mother since she didn't spend nearly as much time in the forest as you did. To that, all you could think was that you didn’t have a child waiting at home for you to raise, unlike your mother. You were certain she would have done the same as you if she didn’t have to care for you back then.

Despite how there was not one other person in the first besides you, just being away from the village made you feel more at peace. You felt more connected with your mother, when you walked her routes, set her traps, and used all the tips and tricks she had taught you when you were young.

Your favorite spot, however, was the small lake in the forest. It was in the middle of a river—its offshoot didn’t cross into the glade, and the running water was always fresh. It was cold in the summer, and warm in the winter; how it exactly managed that, you had no idea. But you had fond memories of it. It was the place where your mother had taught you how to swim. This was the only place where you would see her just sit down and relax, unworried and free.

It had been her spot.

And now, it was yours.

You sat down in the cool water, feeling it wash off the sweat you had accumulated on the voyage through the woods. You were still near the shallow enough edge where you could sit on the floor and the water would only reach up to your armpits. It was nice to let go for a bit.

You sat in the water for a good ten minutes before you wadded deeper into the lake, figuring it was time for you to forage for the underwater plants that people liked to buy off of you to put into soups. You would swim down into the lake, and swim through the thick plant filled bottom of the lake that curled up into the water like bushes. You would push around the rock covered floor to loosen the roots of the plants to get them to release. The leaves would float up to the surface, where you’d collect them later on when you felt you had collected enough.

This time, as you pushed around the large rocks among the dense plants, you felt something warm. You pulled your arm back, expecting to see a fish shoot out of the thicket from your disturbance, but instead, nothing. You were taken aback. You reached out your hand again to see if you would find some freshly dead animal laying in the plants, but when you pushed the plants aside to see, you instead found a large, warm stone.

But it was strange, it was in the shape of a human head.

You felt your eyes bulge out of your head, as you broke through the carpet of plants you had released into the water, immediately kicking to the surface of the lake. You tried to gulp down as much air as you could before you dove straight back into the lake, kicking back to the stone head. You immediately started to check if it looked like your mother, but it did not. It instead looked like a man.

Was this some sort of preserved human?

No, it couldn’t be. It was very much stone.

You circled around the head, pulling away more plants to uncover more stones if you could. You didn’t find any more human head-shaped stones, but you did realize that the stone head was much more than just a head. It was attached to a rock body. It was an entire statue that had been shoved into the lake.

You continued to try and uncover more of the statue between taking breaks where you swam up to the surface for more oxygen. And after about ten minutes you had uncovered the whole statue from under the rocks and plants.

You were surprised that you had never come across this before. This large stone statue that just laid at the bottom of the lake. You just stared at it, honestly, unsure what to do now.

That is until the statue began to rise. You swam back from the statue as it seemed to float up through the water to the lake’s surface, bobbing around with the water plants. How could this statue be so light that it was able to float?

You swam up after it, coming up beside it. You pushed it, testing how light it was, and just from your one light push, it began to drift to the dirt beside the lake where your clothes were. The statue continued to bob around in the shallow water until you dragged it across the pebbles to the dry land.

The statue was of a man with one hand coming up to press the backs of his knuckles underneath his chin. The other curled around his stomach. His lips were full and slightly open. His hair was loose against his forehead. His eyes scrunched together with an expression of pleasure. The statue was also very naked, which made the pose very… suggestive.

Uh…

You really did not know what to make of the statue.

Maybe this is just something that happens in the cursed forest? You find random statues? Statues that seemed like they were in the throes of passion?

But you doubted it. In all your years of coming into the forest, there really was not anything glaringly wrong about it.

It was just a regular forest.

This was the first weird statue you came across.

Other than the fact that when people would venture into it, they’d never return, there was nothing really demonic about the woods.

Hmm.

You stood beside the statue, before you decided, you didn’t really care about it.

Like, what were you really supposed to do? Tell the other villagers? They wouldn’t care. They probably wouldn't even believe you. Or even if they did, they wouldn’t really have any plans of what to do with it either.

So, it was beyond your abilities to care about.

You left it lying by the shore and jumped back into the lake, going out to gather the plants that were floating around, waiting to be collected. You made quick work of it, gathering them all and bringing them to shore. You wrapped them in a cloth to absorb as much water as possible on them before slipping them into the basket with your other goodies.

You then turned to pull on your clothes, humming a little tune to yourself. And when you were all ready, you pulled on your cloak, picked up your basket, and began your trek back home, you were just about to reach the thickening of the trees—

That is until: “Hey! That’s not how this is supposed to go!”

You stopped in your tracks, your grip tightening on your basket.

Did that come from the… lake?

You slowly turned to the lake, and in between the trees you could make out… something.

Ah, this is the day you die isn’t it.

You thought to turn back around and try to make a break for it, but instead, you walked back to the lake, dropping your basket beside one of the trees.

If you were going to die, you were willing to accept it if it meant you’d be able to see your mother again.

When you made it back to the lake, you expected to see a demon or something of the like, but instead it was just the statue again.

But this time, it was standing up. Its arms fists at its hips with its lips frozen in a pout, as though it was mad at you. Its eyes were open this time as it glared at you.

Okay, magic statue it is then.

Was this statue the thing that killed all your family members before?

Well, you hoped it made it quick.

You walked up to it. Stopping just a step away from it. “Um, did you just speak to me? Like you, the statue?”

With a blink, the statue was in another pose, his palm pressed against its forehead, the other hand still against its waist. And without the statue’s mouth moving at all from its slight agape position, it said, “Yes, I did. Now, kiss.”

With another blink of your eye, the statue had once again changed its pose. Its arms were brought up behind his head, posing like a self-absorbed man trying to show off his arm muscles, as its hands pressed to the back of its head, out of sight. His eyes were closed once again.

You weren’t sure what to do. Were you meant to kiss this statue? You really did not want to. “I’m not going to kiss you. Forgive me.”

With another blink, the statue's eyes shot open. “WHAT?!” With another blink, the statue was right in front of you, nose to nose with you, as it bent slightly to glare directly into your eyes. Its arms were crossed over its chest, as it lamented once again, without moving its lips, “This isn’t how this is supposed to go! You’re supposed to kiss me!”

All you felt was annoyance. Was the statue going to kill you or not? You were getting a bit impatient having to deal with its dramatics. “Is that so? And why am I meant to kiss you?”

In less than a second its posture had changed again. Its arms were still crossed against his chest, but this time he wasn’t leaning into your face. Instead, he was standing upright with his head looking off to the right with a deep pout. “The others did!” He whined. “They said I had to win you over, so that’s what I’m trying to do, but you are not cooperating!”

“Who are they?” you asked, adopting his pose with your arms crossed against your chest.

“You know! My people! The ones who govern this forest and our respective lands. I come from the Kim clan, one of the many clans in the nation. I was meant to tell you this after you kissed me.” He remained pouting off to the side.

“So you come from a group of statues?”

He left out an affronted gasp. “Good Earth, no! This is obviously a facade that was meant to woo you! We’re obviously not a people of statues. How absurd of you to even imply that.”

“Then what are you then? And why do you need to “woo” me?”

He changed his position again, now sitting on the ground with his legs crossed, his head propped up on his hand. He looked frustrated. “I would have explained all that to you if you had kissed me like you were meant to. If you want to know, you shall present me with a kiss.”

You sat down in front of him. “That’s unfortunate as I am not going to kiss you.”

His mouth fell open in shock. “I told you, I’ll tell you once you kiss me!”

“Yes, I heard. And I am not going to kiss you,” you insisted, also resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“But that’s what we’re meant to do! The elders told me that I get to be the one from our clan to finally have our turn to get a L/n human as a spouse! They told me I’m meant to come up with a ceremony to sweep you off your feet, and then you’ll be mine! I was only supposed to explain everything else to you after you gave me your hand.”

The statue shot in front of you, now sitting up on his knees, with his hands on either side of your body, his face only a few centimeters from your face again. This time he had his lips all puckered up, with his eyes all scrunched up as if he was prepared for a kiss.

“Now give me a kiss,” he demanded. “And then I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Plus, I can take you back to my lands with me. Now. Kiss!”

“That all sounds well and good.” You leaned back from the insolent statue. “But I’m still not going to kiss you, especially not if it's part of some ceremony.”

The statue was on the ground in a blink of the eye. His knees bent to the sky, as he covered his eyes with his hands. His mouth downturned in a frown. “Why did I have to get the L/n that was the most stubborn of them all?” He seemed to ask no one in particular.

You let him wallow in his self-pity, instead picking at the grass surrounding the both of you. After a few minutes of silence, you asked him, “Has your tantrum completed yet?”

Like a child he said, “no.”

“Well then,” you stood up, brushing the dirt off of your rear, and pulled your hood over your head. “I’ll be off.” You turned and were back on your route, picking your basket up as you passed it.

“Wait!” Finally a man appeared before you, no longer a statue, but a human looking man. His chest was rising and dropping quickly as he held his arms up in front of you, keeping you in place. It was good to see him actually moving, and not just teleporting whenever your eyes closed, it was starting to strain your eyes. “Look, I’m in my true form now, will you just let me explain?”

“Alright, but I will not be kissing you.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” he mumbled, pushing his purplish-pink, wet hair back from his forehead. “Can we sit? And I’ll explain.”

“Could you put on some clothes first?”

He sighed, but in an instant he was dressed in an immaculate, translucent set of fabrics that seemed to shimmer in the early evening light. The clothing was unlike anything you’d seen before. They were in hues of blue and green that flowed loosely over his body as though they were waterfalls that sprouted and fell from his body.

You wondered if they were tangible or something he had just magicked up. You wondered if you were to grab at them, would you be able to feel them or would your fist come back empty.

He walked past you, back towards the lake with his clothes dragging behind him. He looked luxurious.

He went to a different edge of the lake, with giant boulders. He sat down on them, letting his legs soak in the water, his form slumped.

You followed after him, and also sat beside him, but instead of dipping into the water, you sat beside him cross-legged.

He twirled his feet around in the current. “I thought you’d like my entrance. I thought you’d want something romantic for the first meeting you had with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was meant to win you over. You were mine to have, but it’s not that simple. We are not allowed to just steal you away, We need you to come willingly. We need you to fall for us.”

“We as in your people?”

“Yes, my people. We are known by many names to you humans: fairies, fae, elves, pixies, selkies, nagas, tricksters, incubi, demons, witches, immortals. We are shapeshifters, we have magick, we can come to humans however we please. It led to many folklore about us. Really, all those myths stem from our mating ceremonies.”

You waited for him to continue.

“We are only allowed to pick mates from one lineage. In every nation, there is only one family that we can take spouses from. It’s part of our laws, so we do not reveal ourselves to much more than we need to to humans. It also keeps our spouses from fighting amongst themselves, since most of them are on good terms with one another. It prevents clan wars.” He turned to look at you, his hair slightly drier than before.

You took a moment to take in his beauty. He was a handsome man, that you could not deny. You had never met a person with colourful hair like his, other than the one person in the glade with red hair. But this was so different from that. It looked like he’d dyed them with flowers like people did wool, something unnatural for people to have. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was his natural hair colour or if this was one of the perks of being a shapeshifter.

You hummed at him to keep going with his explanation.

“It was agreed upon centuries ago that it would be the L/n family that we would take partners from. As long as they had had time to have children to keep the family line going, we could take our pick of who we wanted. In return, your family got the ability to walk in our lands unharmed. Something that other humans would be… killed for trying to do.”

He eyed you to see what your reaction would be to him admitting to his people killing humans. He didn’t know how to feel when he saw no sympathy for the humans who had perished.

“It was my clan’s turn next to get a L/n, and of course, there was you. I had just turned twenty, and you had been twenty-one. I was entranced right away by you. I wanted to take you right away, after all, it was my birthright. But, the elders of the clans told me I had to wait. I had to wait for you to have a child, but how could I?!” He had turned right towards you, pulling your hands into his lap. “How could I let a human hold you close before I got the chance to? How could I let you raise children with a human, with someone other than me. I couldn’t bear it.”

He had pulled your hands to his chest. “But the clan leaders, Y/n, while they understood me—they had after all had to go through the same thing as I did before they got their L/n—but they told me I must wait. So I did. I waited even though it hurt me. I waited until you had a child so that I could finally take you away, but then it just wasn’t happening! You weren’t meeting people, you weren’t falling in love or having children! It had been five years, and it just wasn’t happening.”

He pulled one of your hands from his chest to come up and cradle his cheek in your hand. “So I spoke with the clan leaders, and they said I still couldn’t take you.”

His arm came around your torso, pulling you against him. “So I decided, I was going to take you. Who are they to stop me from taking my spouse, my mate? Let them burn, I say. Who cares if the remaining clans will not have their own L/n spouses, I do not care. You are mine, and I refuse to wait any longer.” His other arm had come to the back of your head, bringing you closer to his face. “Kiss me, Y/n, and then I can claim you as mine.”

He tilted his head, flickering his eyes closed as he went to close the gap between the two of you, but you instantly put a finger up to his pursed mouth.

“Do you mean to tell me my mother is alive? She was taken by one of the other clans?” Your eyes were urgently digging into him.

The man pulled away slightly, his eyes opening back up slowly. “Well yes. All of your family members are alive in one way or another in our lands.” He could see the way your eyes hardened, he could imagine that you were worried for your mother’s state. “Once we take them, they become ours, Y/n. We tie them to our eternal life so they could be by our side as long as we shall live. We take good care of our spouses, that I can assure you. I’ve met her once before.” He cupped your face in his hands. “She is well, Y/n.”

You felt tears run down your face and onto his hands. “S-She’s alive?”

He nodded.

You collapsed against him in sobs, calling out for your mother. He rubbed your back, trying to calm you down the best that he could.

Fifteen years it had been since she’d disappeared—no, been taken from you.

Fifteen years.

It didn’t matter that she hadn’t come to see you in all those years, you could forgive her for that, but you wanted to see her now. You needed to see the only person who cared for you. You needed her.

You straightened up, wiping your tears away before grabbing onto the man. “Take me to her. I’ll do whatever you want, just take me to her.” You begged in a choked voice.

“I can only do that if you agree to be mine. Only if you kiss m—”

You pressed your lips against his.

For a second he didn’t move, just allowing you to ravage his lips. But once he realized what had happened, he immediately pulled you closer. He pulled you against him and kissed you back with as much fervor as you did. He felt jolts of electricity pass through his body as the vow between the two of you cemented in place.

You were his now.

And he was yours.

When the burning in your chest got too much, you pulled away from the magickal man. Just enough for you to breathe in some air.

He pressed a kiss against the corner of your mouth as you panted. “I suppose it is time for me to give you my name now that you are mine.”

He pressed a kiss to your jaw before he whispered into your neck, “I shall give you my name, as you gave me yours through the completion of the ceremony of the vow. I give you my name: Kim Seokjin.”

Reader won't even realize the gravity of him giving his name to you until they went back to his land and learned more about his people. He really meant the whole "I am yours, and you are mine" thing 😬

Just so you guys know, I wanted to write a bit more to explain why he decided to come to you as a statue, but then this was just already way too long, so I decided not to. Long story short: He was inspired by the Greek myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, and he thought he may woo you (as that is part of the ceremony, he must win you over), by replicating that myth. He thought you'd fall head over heels for his handsome statue self, and you'd kiss him without him even having to ask! Obviously, he was a bit over confident lol.

Maybe at some point, I'll write that Jin explaining to his partner why he did what he did later on in the month or maybe afterwards. I just wanted to write him being all pouty as he explained his plan, but oh well lol.

Anyway, please reblog and comment, it makes my day and motivates me so much! Have a good night!

#yandere bts #yandere seokjin #yandere jin #yandere bts drabbles #yandere seokjin x reader #yandere jin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yandere Kim seokjin #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #supernatural au #Ev's writing #series: love amour aur pyaar

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elf-punk · 1 month

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Feyd-Rautha Headcanons

As with everyone else on this website, I recently watched Dune Pt. 2 and am besotted with Feyd-Rautha. So much so that I had to write a set of little headcanons, representing some events of the books from his perspective. I’ll be mixing up the movie and book lore a little for this one, with Feyd having spent the first few years of his life on Lankiveil with his parents before they were killed by the Baron. Hope you like it, folks!

The (ill-fated) life of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

Feyd remembers very little of his life before being taken in by the Baron. Sometimes, if he concentrates very hard, a few fragments appear—a warm, smiling woman bending over to pick him up, a toddler timidly boarding a ship surrounded by icy glaciers. An imposing man with a heavy-set beard to looks over and says: “Do not fear the whaling boats, my son. One day they will be yours, this planet will be yours.”

The warm words and embraces of his birth parents become little more than a hazy dream as he grows up on Giedi Prime. Every shred of humanity is brutally stripped from Feyd as the Baron carefully molds the young Harkonnen into a ruthless tyrant.

From the age of 5, a blade is placed in his hands and he is forced to kill a servant for the heinous crime of breathing too loudly. At 7, he is beaten within an inch of his life for looking at a starving slave with sorrow and sympathy.

When Feyd reaches adolescence, he begins to take an interest in women. His uncle takes note and assigns him a swarm of concubines who are among the most beautiful women on Giedi Prime. They dote on him endlessly, but fail to hold his interest, as it's the daughter of a minor nobleman who truly holds him captive. Her name is Neyla, and in her wide, soft-set eyes he sees another future. A future where he escapes with her, sheds the horrors of his daily life, and lives free from the lustful stares of his uncle who he despises with the bitterness of poison.

His secret embraces with Neyla coax out the final scraps of tenderness his hardening heart would ever feel, but it isn't long before the Baron becomes aware of his weakness. In his overconfidence, Feyd petitions his uncle for Neyla’s hand, but instead of a bride, he receives a front-seat view of her beheading. That night, Feyd holds his blade to his own throat, and wonders how hard he would need to press before it cut through his flesh.

Neyla’s death causes something to shift within Feyd. His hatred for his uncle and brother remains, but he is no longer overcome with escapist desires. He is hell-bent on power, obsessed with it. His fighting regimens become brutal and unhealthy and his bloodlust intensifies as every waking moment is spent plotting and scheming against his uncle.

Eventually, his rage boils over, culminating in a disastrous assassination attempt on the Baron. Amused by the boy’s nerve, the Baron forces him to slaughter every woman in the pleasure wing under his watchful and lecherous eye. While Feyd has learned to find a perverse enjoyment in violence, the terror in the last surviving slave-girl’s eyes stirs up the memory of Neyla as she tearfully begged for mercy in the moments before her death. His blade falters for a moment, and he faces his uncle with a curled lip and flaring nostrils before striking the final blow.

When Feyd is informed that he will be taking stewardship of Arrakis, he can barely contain the twisted joy in his heart. His beastly fool of a brother couldn’t lead an operation if it slithered into his bed at night, and failed pitifully to subdue the Fremen, putting the entire Harkonnen bloodline to shame. Feyd hates his brother almost as much as he hates his uncle, and feels a deep pleasure watching him skulk around with his tail between his legs. It’s the recognition that Feyd so desperately craves. A chance to prove myself in the face of the entire Landsraad.

Feyd doesn’t take well to the desert. The dryness of the air, the need to ration water as if it were oxygen, and his general inability to be outdoors in the daytime tests him physically and mentally. Already sickly from the journey across deep space, he spends his first few days on-world in a state of fever and delirium (an embarrassment that his closest servants and concubines conceal under pain of death).

When he faces the harsh desert air, he catches a hint of something vaguely cinnamon tasting—the spice. He isn’t fond of it. It causes his mind to fuzz and glaze over, his thoughts to multiply. As the spice builds in his system, he begins to possess a sharpened awareness of his own past, and if he dare allow it, his future. He sees himself drowning in possibilities, a tiny figure nestled within a grander design stretching deep into the conscioussness of all those who had come before. He shudders. Closing himself off in airlocked chambers, he convinces himself that No Bene Gesserit witch, Guildsman, or Imperial beaurocrat has control over his destiny.

He hears whispers of the Muad’Dib—a fearsome warrior who commands an almost religious frenzy among the Fremen, and is capable of uprooting even the most well-executed Harkonnen desert operation. His heart thrums at the challenge. To defeat such a figure would be something else indeed! This would be unlike his show-fights with drugged prisoners in the gladiator arenas. No, he would fight this Muad’Dib and win, crushing the resolve of the Fremen. He would go down in history as the one who tamed Arrakis.

Silence makes Feyd uncomfortable. He always has a quip or comeback ready, and the deathly silence of the room as he and Paul circle one another is unbearable. He eases his discomfort with a number of taunts towards his cousin, but internally rages at the serene and slightly bemused face of the man opposite. Why doesn’t he speak? Feyd continues his chatter as they fight, calming his increasing fear at Paul's strength and dexterity.

The two separate momentarily and stalk each other in a circle. Feyd stares at his enemy avidly and unhealthily. When he looks at Paul, really looks at him, he is disturbed by their resemblance. He is shocked to realise that he feels jealous of the man—the Kwisatz Haderach, who was and is loved by many and nurtured through faith and loyalty, unlike the Harkonnens who ruled by fear and intimidation.

No one, save for his deceased parents and Neyla, had ever loved Feyd-Rautha in his entire life. People only entertained him out of fear that their refusal would incur death, including his concubines. Women. There’s a thought. He looks over Paul’s shoulder and sees an attractive Fremen woman looking on in fear, eyes swimming in devotion. Attempting to goad the Muad’Dib, he cruelly spits: “A pet I see? Will she be deserving of my special attention?” He hides his seething jealousy with taunts, and feels the sting of knowing no one would ever look at him with the pure and freely-given love that this desert woman regards Paul.

Crystal-clear images of Lankiveil fill Feyd's mind as Paul’s crysknife enters his skull. The spice-awareness blesses him, and a wry smile crosses his lips in the knowledge that his dance is over.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune part 2 #dune 2 #paul atreides #austin butler #timothée chalamet

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polutrope · 1 month

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Just pure headcanons, what do you think happened during Maglor's reign as a king? I don't know if his reign was short or something but I remember it took some time before Fingon was able to save Maedhros and unite the noldor and there was still some division between the host of nolofinweans and feanorians. I wonder if he considered himself a placeholder until Maedhros returned or was he a reluctant king? Did the host respect him as a king, did his own brothers respect him as a king? I am so intrigued because, aside from Maedhros, I think Maglor deserved some shoutout lmao (No, this isn't a maglor-obsession-spree that I have been on, nu uh). Also, I feel like he would have some cordial relationship with Fingolfin, they could bond as the second sons having to take leadership because the eldest died/was abducted idk.

Oh no, starlitelwing. I hope you know the Pandora's Box you've just opened. King Maglor is one of my all-time favourite things to think about.

First of all: there's actually no canonical information on Maglor's position after the capture of Maedhros (in fact, we don't even know what Maedhros' title/position was after Feanor's death; all we know is that Feanor "claimed now the kingship of all the Noldor" in Tirion. Contested leadership is SO GOOD isn't it? anyway...).

The published Silmarillion glosses right over the question of who's in charge during the time between Feanor's death and Fingolfin's official assumption of the Kingship of the Noldor (which, if you ask me, Fingolfin effectively had been King since the time of Feanor's exile, and he was in any case Regent at the time of Finwe's death... he said he'd follow Feanor but the people following him were calling him Finwe Nolofinwe soooo... aiee, I digress again). The book gallops at such a breakneck speed that you don't really notice the gap in leadership. Or, I didn't.

But then you look at the Grey Annals (where Tolkien Gateway gets most of its First Age dates) and you see that there are 2-3 Tree Years and 5 Sun Years between Maedhros' capture and his rescue. Now, however you imagine time works in Tree Years when there are no Trees, that's still a long time. Maedhros was gone at a minimum 6-7 years, more likely closer to the equivalent of 30 "regular" years. (That's way longer, by the way, than the time between Feanor's death and Maedhros' capture, which was like, a day to a month, at most. Maedhros, if he even was King, was King for way less time than whoever followed him. And he sucked at the job, btw. But I digress. Again.)

So someone had to be in charge for those 6 to 30 years, but whomst? That the leadership would pass after Feanor's death to the eldest son is logical, and that it would then pass to the next eldest is also logical. I see no reason to refute that, but note: it would not be uncanonical to have someone other than Maedhros or Maglor in charge at this time. You can make King Celegorm a thing and still be canon-compliant!

This passage in the published Silm is basically the extent of the activities of the sons of Feanor during Maedhros' absence:

Then the brothers of Maedhros drew back, and fortified a great camp in Hithlum; but Morgoth held Maedhros as hostage, and sent word that he would not release him unless the Noldor would forsake their war, returning into the West, or else departing far from Beleriand into the South of the world. But the sons of Feanor knew that Morgoth would betray them, and would not release Maedhros, whatsoever they might do; and they were constrained also by their oath, and might not for any cause forsake the war against their Enemy.

The sense here is that all six sons acted as a unit. But in the 1937 Quenta Silmarillion, the text on which this passage is drawn:

Morgoth held [Maedhros] as hostage and sent word to Maglor that he would only release his brother if …

To Maglor! Excellent evidence that Tolkien was also making the logical conclusion that Maglor, the eldest, was in charge. (My best theory for why Christopher Tolkien took that out is Too Many Names, but it's an odd decision.)

All that was to say: We don't know, canonically, that Maglor was in charge at Mithrim. But it makes a lot of sense, and it's my headcanon that he was.

Now. More interesting headcanons.

I don't think Maglor was called King until it was politically necessary.

I see him as someone who is comfortable in command (one meaning of Cano is "commander", after all) but who likes to command collaboratively. Double-edged sword: he values the input of others (admirable quality) and he does not like being fully responsible for the outcomes of a decision (less admirable).

Unlike much fanon I've come across, I don't think Maglor was a particularly reluctant or incompetent leader or that he hated it. He was miserable, yes, because his father just died and his brother was just captured, and he wasn't thrilled to become a leader on top of that, but he keeps it together.

So how do I imagine it all went down?

The problem with Maglor being in command is that his "collaborative" style of leadership is not appropriate for a time of crisis or for his family. While the Silm often talks about "the sons of a Feanor" as a unit, I do not think they were of the same mind on everything. At all. They need a firm hand, and Maglor does not have that.

But who does have a firm hand? Who would be a more martial ruler, someone who could get people in order during a crisis? Celegorm. And he knows it.

So why did the Feanorians "get nothing done" during those 6-30 years (sidenote: I don't actually think they got nothing done, but it does seem they didn't get anything BIG done)? Well, for one, they were fighting amongst themselves.

Maglor could not get his brothers to agree on anything, and yet he did not know any other way of commanding, and over time he becomes more and more miserable as a leader.

Celegorm, meanwhile, is chomping at the bit to "relieve him" of the burden.

Around them, everyone else is picking sides.

Curufin is an interesting case. I headcanon he actually was fully behind Maglor at the beginning, because he respects the orderliness of succession. But as Maglor proves himself unsuitable for the role, he aligns with Celegorm.

Outside the family, I headcanon that the Mithrim Elves were actually quite taken with Maglor, the poet-king. Their alliance hinges on him. But the Noldor, especially the army, would rather follow Celegorm.

As everyone knows, a rival for leadership with the army's support is Bad News. And yet Maglor manages to hold on. He should definitely get credit for that.

But why hold on? If he is hating this ruler job, why not just let Celegorm have it? Couple reasons:

It's Celegorm. He may be able to perform well, but Maglor knows he's the most like Feanor in temperament and, well, Feanor's kingship didn't end well.

If Maglor gives up that crown, he will have admitted to himself that Maedhros is not coming back. This is the same reason he doesn't give it over to Fingolfin when Uncle Nolvo shows up. He is hanging onto that thing for dear life because, to him, it belongs to Maedhros and only Maedhros. He is the crown's custodian, never its rightful owner (this bleeds into my headcanon that Maglor does not "in his heart" agree with Maedhros' decision to cede the kingship — he'll never be as vocal about it as the others, though).

Now we come to another piece. What did Maglor call himself? Like I said up top, I don't think he initially called himself King. He was "head of his House", or maybe, "Lord of Hithlum," or maybe King Regent, but never King. If one of the Mithrim got mixed up and called him that, he would always correct them.

That changes when Fingolfin shows up. Now there's another claimant to the title of King. Possibly a more legitimate one than even Maedhros (as Maedhros later says himself).

By that time, Maglor has been keeping that crown out of Celegorm's hands for years; he is not giving it up now. And Fingolfin is less likely to challenge his leadership if he offers no room for ambiguity. If he dons the mantle of kingship and pretends Maedhros is dead.

So that is what he does... Does Fingolfin accept it? Well: "Then there was peril of strife between the hosts."

For three years, on opposite sides of the Lake, they're at an impasse. Fingon doesn't go looking for Maedhros because he thinks Maedhros is dead (and other reasons: the mission is insane and desperate not the least, and contrary to popular opinion Fingon is not a rash idiot).

How does Fingon eventually learn the truth? You'll have to wait and read what @melestasflight and I are cooking up for Silm Epistolary Week ;)

ETA: Despite this, I do think you're right that Maglor and Fingolfin could have bonded over their similar experiences! There's the personal and there's the political, and I love the idea of the tension between these straining what could be an emotionally supportive familial friendship between Maglor and Fingolfin.

#asks #maglor #high king maglor #or not #bless you for this ask #apologies for the length #istg I did proofread this before hitting post #apparently not well

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bettyfrommars · 5 months

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hi loves

a wee announcement/bit of reflection below the cut

nothing heavy, just some thoughts & updates

First of all, I want to say I love this fandom so much. Truly I do. It has carried me though possibly the hardest, loneliest year of my life (and this ol' girl has been though some dark times). I've made friendships here that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life.

I came into fanfiction in October of last year, after not writing anything substantial for almost a decade. My dear friend at the time said she was looking for a specific Eddie Munson story, so I wrote it for her. I wrote it in first person because I didn't even understand how "reader perspective" was a thing, that's how wet behind the ears I was to this world. My friend, on the other hand, is a well-versed fic reader, and I distinctly remember messaging her like, "okay, what the hell is a Y/N??"

I spent that entire dark, cold winter writing and passing it to her in parts like notes in a classroom. The rush of getting back to something I loved so deeply after so much time away turned me into a monster. I lived and breathed that story. We sent endless messages back and forth every day about what each character would do next, imagining ourselves in that world, with Eddie. We made playlists, we cried. We screamed and giggled and kicked our feet when they finally kissed. We mourned the loss when it ended and moped around a bit before going back to read it all over again. Some 40k words and four months later I realized, holy shit, I think I write fanfiction now?

In a way, fanfiction saved my life. It brought me back to a part of myself I had buried, a part of me that worried it might never see the light of day again. It came crawling out of the ground, gasping for air like, "you better stretch your fingers bitch because I have a lot to say."

In April, I started posting here when the fandom was notably beginning to wane, but I was happy to see there were so many still going hard for our man. I kinda creeped in, like a little scuttling crab, and was grateful to find that a handful of you embraced me.

Long story short, I am NOT leaving, not at all. I know the tone is there, but that is not what this is, lmao. I will hopefully keep this blog for as long as you will have me. I plan to finish writing I'm on Fire and Death Becomes Us, as well as maybe another bit for gargoyle!Eddie, and nightmare!Eddie, but the other series I've started (or planned to start) will stay on hiatus for a while, possibly forever. I will continue to post blurbs and hc's and whatnot, but I won't be committing to any new series or long fics.

My masterlists will remain intact for the time being for those who want to enjoy what is there. That being said, The Nightmare Factory and Stop the World and Melt with You, might be taken down in the future only because I plan to re-work them into original stories. I have a second non-fandom blog in the works that is dedicated to monsters, nightmares, and magic realism, and I will let those who are interested know about it when the time comes.

Mostly, I wanted to let you know that, even if you notice some changes, I will continue to persist with "My 2 Joe's" delulu era, possibly until the earth swallows me up. I am no longer taking requests, but my asks will always be open for thots, blurbs, obsessions, etc. You know how much I love hearing from you.

That's all really. Perhaps this is simply one of those "end of year" thought dumps, but I also wanted to say a heartfelt Thank You to those who continue to support me, enjoy my work, and share it. My Ride or Die monsterfuckers and biker Eddie enthusiasts. My nightmare Eddie dreamers, my Twilight Zone Eddie pineapple heads. My gargoyle Eddie romantics who cheer on our Stone Boy, and my Hybrid Steve lovers who leave their windows open at night. My True Blood friends who appreciate a vampire Eddie who is nothing like Bill Compton. My darlings, my fellow rebel rousers and misfits, my friends.

This is a very symbiotic relationship, and I could not/would not do this without you ❤️

#Betty thoughts #delulu for life

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marielschism · 1 year

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Please do talk about the Marquis, all plot bunnies, how an eventual relationship with him would turn out. Any thoughts are most anticipated! 👀

FR?????????????? okay!

so i'm currently working on patron of the arts, a marquis de gramont x artist!reader fic where he is an art patron/cultural sugar daddy who is horrendously down bad for you, an artist in their flop era. i'm making an hc post for it over at my writing sideblog [@marielserif] so if anyone's interested 👀 i'll post it some time next week!

pairing: marquis de gramont x reader note: i think i made him unbearably ooc. whatever warnings: some mature themes/content; unedited; not an entirely healthy relationship (vincent has issues!!!!!!)

general relationship hcs

side note: these hcs operate under the assumption that the reader is unaware of his work.

i am deeply fascinated by yandere stuff, so every time i think of marquis de gramont, i can't help but sprinkle a bit of obsessive yearning on his part (because i honestly think he's the type to do so! he chased john wick all over the world! that should be me!). he is ruthless, ambitious, and determined, and i think this, too, translates into how he deals with his relationships.

i think that he's the type to fall hard for someone, but is also the type to deny the feeling initially, trying to stamp it out of his brain as hard as he can, constantly pretending that he is unaffected by you. he does not need you. he wants you. he has lived through most of his life without your presence, surely he can live through more.

his dedication to denying his feelings leads him into a great number of sticky situations: perhaps he dismisses you a bit too much, and it puts a significant strain on your relationship. he might even end up with you hating him.

he is used to being feared. he is used to being hunted. but he will never get used to the feeling of your hatred, so that could easily force him to act on his feelings before he makes things worse. it is a wake up call for him: he does not want to lose you because of his own pride.

good for you!

when the marquis is in it, good god, he is in it.

i think that marquis de gramont is an incredibly selfish man. if he loves you, you become an extension of himself — and in turn, he will ensure your safety and your joy. you deserve it. you're his.

he's a patron of the arts — he'll get along with you better if you have some appreciation for art and culture. your conversations with him will be longer, too, and sometimes more heated. vincent is very opinionated, and he'll defend his opinions to the death. he'll take you to museums, renting out entire scenic cultural hotspots just for you (and him) to enjoy at your own pace. he is prone to over-explaining when he is excited, so expect that you'll be doing a lot of listening.

if he senses that you're actually listening to him and he's feeling particularly generous, he'll reward you. you know what that entails.

there are times where you're feeling tired, and you're just not in the mood to listen to him ramble about his least favorite painting in the musee d'orsay. he does not fault you for it, but you feel the mild disappointment radiating off him in waves. you'll have to...make it up to him somehow.

he'll appreciate it very much.

anyway, vincent will take you to the ballet, dress you in the finest of things, and take you to the swankiest of establishments. you deserve nothing but the best.

if you inform him that you are uncomfortable with being spoiled like this, he will try to tone it down a little. the code word here is try. he will go back to sending you swarovski-embellished fountain pens in two weeks.

despite this, he's not above accompanying you to places like gas stations or grocery stores. sure, he'll take at least three bodyguards with him to ensure your safety, but he'll be there for you. he's capable of being normal!

(forgot to mention that vincent de gramont is territorial and overprotective at times. what's the use of all of his power if he can't use it protect the one he loves?)

(his brand of protection can feel almost like a prison at times. you'll have to clearly communicate with him about what you want, and you have to be very firm with him if you don't want to feel like you're a bird in a gilded cage. you have to make sure that he knows you won't just take it.)

(you need a backbone to love him. that's the truth of it all.)

vincent is also touch-starved, though he denies this constantly.

he can be an incredibly greedy kisser. he kisses you like he's starving, and he'll hold you like you'll turn into dust if he lets go.

he can be gentle, too — easy does it, and he takes it as slow as you want. languid, lazy, like you have all of the time in the world.

he's also a horrific tease. he's a smug bastard. he'll do everything except kiss you — he'll bite your earlobe, let his lips travel to your pulse, and kiss the corners of your lips. when you whine, he'll pull away with that smirk of his, and leave you to your racing heart. you're flustered as hell, and he looks unaffected by it.

(it's a lot harder for him to keep his composure if you're the one teasing him.)

he reaches out for you in his sleep, even if he is alone. a tired vincent will always reach out for you, no matter what stage of sleep he's in. in his sleep, he'll end up wrapping himself around your entire body like a boa constrictor no matter your size. one time, he fell asleep on top of you, and you had to elbow him awake because he was suffocating you.

(he owns a weighted blanket for when you're not around.)

if you play with vincent's hair, he will complain about you messing up the handiwork of his treasured coiffeur, but he won't say a word. when you pull your hands off his hair, he'll actually whine, and place your hands back. you have to clear your schedule if you want to play with his hair; he will not let you out of his presence until he's dead asleep.

if you really want to see a very stressed vincent, you can deny him your touch for weeks on end. but why would you do that? 😊

he's prone to taking drastic actions to get what he wants. a desperate vincent de gramont is someone you do not want to meet; a desperate vincent de gramont gets results.

so god help those who will try to take you from him.

plot bunnies

i really need to finish this because i have a 7-page paper due in 42 hours

i desperately wanted to write a ballet dancer!reader x patron!marquis de gramont instead of an artist!reader but im going to be completely honest with you i have zero knowledge of the world of ballet and i would NOT be able to do the idea justice.

(your rival dancer goes missing because of your patron. you investigate. things do not go well.)

also another plot bunny: leverage!reader

the marquis keeps an eye on you as leverage over your father, who is under his employ. think caine and his daughter.

he threatens your safety to keep your father in line constantly — but he's grown fond of you, strangely. you have a harmless hobby. it is soothing to watch you work. he is not going to hurt you.

(vincent even has his men protect you from harm. their presence in the area deter would-be muggers. you do not know this.)

at one point, your father grows stubborn, and vincent has to take a very drastic measure to ensure his cooperation.

he kidnaps you. of course he does.

strange things happen.

assistant!reader! you are his faithful assistant, and you get hurt in the line of duty. oh noooo. what happens next??? :OOO

#marquis de gramont x reader #jw4 #marquis vincent de gramont #hello anon thank u for sending me this ask 😭 i desperately want to talk about him more #you unlocked something in me #anon #so little MVDG fics im gnna be sick. i had to add to it! i had to!#even if i am terrible at writing!#vincentposting

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admirxation · 1 year

Text

I’ve missed this

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Fem Reader

Summary: The reader and Leon are in a relationship, appreciating each other's company after his recent mission to save “baby eagle”. The reader is heartbroken with how little time you guys have together, but Leon reassures her with kisses and cuddles which eventually turns into NSFW 18+ content (fluff at the start and smut in the middle and end).

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (no minors!), smut, unsafe sex, degrading, hair pulling, spanking, mentions of bruises and injuries, nipple pinching and sucking, hickies, dominance and submission.

Word Count: 1.6k

Authors note: Hey, this is my first Leon Kennedy one-shot that I have written and posted, I used to write fanfiction when I was 13-15 but stopped. But now I am a 20 year old, English Literature university student, craving to write more fanfiction because ugh I have an obsession with fictional men lmao. I hope you like this, any feedback is appreciated (be nice though haha), and you can request anything you would like or drop a message if you ever want to.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon with the remnants of the sun shining through the gaps in the curtains, you and Leon were lounging on the sofa, watching TV— enjoying each other’s company. A day to just cuddle with him was rare, and you treasured every moment you had when he was around; just being in his arms and presence made you feel safe, with every trouble and stress easing its way out of your mind’s focal point when you felt the warmth of his body against yours. While you knew the demands of his job, it was always hard to see him go and come back hurt and beaten up; you wished he could just stay with you so your lazy afternoons wouldn’t be a rare treasure. Every time you saw the cuts, bruises, or any injury you found when gazing upon his body— it just left you in pain—just imagining how close he had been to death and the living nightmares he had to endure.

Leon had recently returned from saving “baby eagle”, and when he came back, he told you about the people and events he encountered, mainly about the objective of protecting Ashley and how tiring it was. Every time he came back, there was a mixture of feelings, moving from being proud of him to having your imagination fall into the darkness where you pictured the possible fate of the mission being unsuccessful—it taking Leon’s life—the thought of it led to your heart sinking, no matter your current reality. The injuries, seeing him exhausted, and the nightmares he experienced every night—triggered your mind to dive into the abyss of dark thoughts. Of course, he had to be the hero and save the day, but still, you always yearned for him to stay every time you had to say goodbye—afraid it was your last. While these thoughts circled in your mind, you consciously tried to battle against them and focus on the afternoon you and Leon were experiencing. You tried to enjoy the moment; you didn’t know how long you had with him until he was gone again.

You nuzzled into his chest, breathing in that scent you missed; you no longer had to cuddle into the pillow and hoodies he left to remember his smell. He had his arms around you, and you were in your safe place.

“I’ve missed this,” Leon uttered, breaking the room's comfortable silence.

“Same; you know I always count the days until your return,” you answered him, giving an innocent smile to him as you cuddled into his chest more.

Leon already knew how much you anticipated his arrival; you loved him more than anything and would cross off days in the calendar and jump in his arms when you saw him again. How could your thoughts not be preoccupied with hoping for his safe return? But even though you were talking about your happiness, Leon noticed a trace of sadness lingering in your words, knowing that you were holding back some thoughts. He lifted your chin, moving your face closer to his, telling you in a soft tone: “I’m sorry I can’t be here more often. You know if it were up to me, I’d be around more,” he looked into your eyes to reassure you. You tilted your head and smiled at him, loving how cute he was with you. Leon then placed his hand on your cheek and pulled you closer to kiss you; melting into the kiss, you couldn’t think of anything else but how much you loved him.

“I always forget how much of a great kisser you are,” you giggled, “it’s always a nice surprise to enjoy everything when you get back,” you said softly and gently.

“I know you do, baby; you make it quite obvious,” he laughed.

“Wow, look at me trying to be nice, and this is what I get,” you faked a little gasp as you nudged him a little. Leon laughed with you and shook his head a little at how sweet you were being.

“Just come here. I wanna cuddle you more,” you blushed at Leon’s request, shifted your weight, and moved your leg over him, positioning yourself to straddle him. You knew Leon loved this as much as you. His eyes then wandered up and down your body: “You know what I missed (Y/N)?”

“What, Leon?”

“This. Feeling you on top of me...” you saw the smirk on his face after his flirtatious comment, and you knew what he wanted to do to you, “and what happens when you get on top.”

You locked eye contact with him, taking the hints he was giving, beginning to grind your hips down into his, circling them as his hands travelled over your body.

“This feels so good... you know exactly what I like,” Leon said under his breath as you grinded on him; he admired your beauty by looking at you up and down and biting his lip when you pushed your hips further down—you felt yourself getting wetter as you felt his cock twitch with excitement.

As Leon released heavy breaths, grabbing your hips to move further into his lap, his hands traced upwards. Holding your hair, his fingers tangled in it and pulled you closer—kissing you passionately. You melted into the kiss, it growing more passionate with continuous grinding. With his spare hand, it wandered to your ass, squeezing it until you gasped between kisses. As your kisses became wetter, he couldn’t deal with you being fully clothed anymore and needed to see what belonged to him. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, throwing it across the room, slowly moving to your bra and unclasping it—admiring you as it fell and exposed you.

“Fuck, (Y/N), you’re so sexy,” he looked at you, thinking about how lucky he was.

He moved closer to your breasts, starting to suck on one of your nipples and twirled his tongue around it, pinching the other and getting harder as he felt your soft moans at his touch.

“Fuck, Fuck Leon... mmh. Keep going. Please don’t stop,” you managed to say as your bodies intertwined in intimacy, and you felt how hard he was under you, “Leon. Just fuck me already, I-I need you.”

Leon smirked at you, “Anything you want, princess.” He grabbed you, pushed you to the sofa and hovered over you, leaning in for another kiss which moved to your neck to provide a hickey—to show who you belonged to.

He pulled away, leading you to whimper for his touch again, looking at you beg for him as he grabbed your underwear and slowly dragged them down your legs—revealing your wet pussy. He traced his finger down, softly grazing over your clit. You shivered as you felt him tease you and begged for more.

“How much do you want me (Y/N)?” dominance lingering in his words.

“I-I need you, Leon, please.” He loved seeing you submit.

He positioned his cock towards your wet entrance, rubbing against it to tease you. As he did, he whispered: “you’re so wet for me, baby, fuck,” wanting to just ram and fuck the shit out of you, there and then, but not wanting to surrender to his urges—yet—he wanted to see you squirm with anticipation more.

When you were about to beg again, he leaned his cock inside you melding your bodies together. You both gasped at the entrance. Your moans became continuous as Leon started to push back and forth, whispering into your ear how sexy you were: “You’re so beautiful (Y/N). I love your b-body, mmm, god! I missed this so much.” After efforts to fragment a coherent sentence from being interrupted with pleasure, he quickened the pace. He was lifting his body as he did, positioning himself upright as he held and dug his nails into your thighs, looking at you while you were screaming his name. You were lost in each other, having the room filled with moans, having your eyes roll back as you went crazy under Leon’s control.

“Whose my dirty wore?” He looked at you and demanded an answer; he loved degrading and putting you in your place.

“Me, I, I’m your dirty whore, Leon!”

Leon looked at you and noticed how close you were to cumming. Since he loved to tease you, he pulled out, to which you pulled a disappointed face as he did.

“I’m not letting you cum yet. Turn around... Now!” you submitted to his request. You turned to all fours, arching your back and waiting for Leon to begin fucking you silly again. As you were about to look back, he rammed his cock inside, and you gasped as he did.

Leon was the type to have you cum first, but he still liked to be in control when he could. He wanted a bit of fun to see you want more, getting a kick from seeing the desperation in your eyes.

His hands grabbed your hips, spanking you often until your ass was red, fucking you at a quick pace leading to your wetness stream down your inner thighs. As he pulled your hair and squeezed your ass harder, Leon felt your pussy clenching around his cock, eventually releasing hot ropes of cum into you—meeting your release as you squeezed your eyes shut with tears brimming in the corners as you orgasmed.

As Leon pulled out, you were both breathless; both lost in ecstasy as you experienced a mutual release. Your legs were shaking, and your pussy was sore, exhaustion plastered over your face. Once you caught your breath, you told him: “You’re so good... I love having sex with you when you get back.”

“I love it too, baby,” he smiled at you, “Come on, let’s go get ourselves cleaned up, then I’ll give you some aftercare,” he gave you a little spank as he walked closer to the bathroom.

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cowboymantis · 2 months

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I am having so so so many feelings about Infinite Wealth and I've just been spamming my friend with essays about my overanalyzing brain that obsesses over every single detail in media I am obsessed with,, BUT THIS GAME IS JUST SO FULL OF OPPORTUNITIES FOR IT AAAAA!!!

I just wanna note some longer thoughts down, because I need somewhere to collect some of them,,,,

So yeah, uh, obviously:

LIKE A DRAGON INFINITE WEALTH SPOILERS

(any Yakuza game really, but this is the most recent one, so more likely that people haven't played that yet)

Number 1:

So first of all, Kiryu's parts are, because of the bucket list stuff, very focused on the past. He's trying to tie up loose ends, in his own way and how much he is actually able to do with the Daidoji restrictions.

So I think it was really fitting that he was the one fighting Ebina. In a way it felt like him fighting his past and trying to turn it around.

Now what do I mean by that? Let's start from an earlier point.

Basically, the game is a bit like a mirror to Kiwami in some ways.

Lani is like Haruka, hunted down by several groups of people and they even talk about this similarity being Kiryu's leading factor of motivation in helping her. I mean, there's also different mafias and a whole government conspiracy. But I mean, nothing new in a Yakuza game, but just one more thing added on top of it all.

Where it really starts to show and made me think "Ohhh...wait a second" is when Ebina held his speech about his past. Ebina and Ichiban, even though they didn't grow up together like them, are so similar to Kiryu and Nishiki. One being the Yakuza boss Arakawa's "favourite child", who also idolizes him, and the other one grows to hate him.

And I think this is also the moment where Kiryu realizes "Oh no...history is repeating itself again, isn't it..."

So at the end of the fight, when he actually breaks out in tears and begs for no one to die, it feels like all those deaths he couldn't prevent over all those years, good or bad people, just make him completely break down and he just wants this endless cycle to finally end.

Before the game came out, RGG and actors, in some occasions pointed out how this was a happier game. It makes you feel like looking up instead of being sad.

And while I was playing, I often just felt "Bruh, they lied to us. This game is so sad???", but after I then finished the game, I just sat there and felt such a big relief, the ending just was honestly perfect (well, I mean the cliff hanger was awful jddhd). But then later, it also made me think yeah, this is kind of like a positive version of Kiwami, isn't it? It just feels like it's in a way Kiryu's tying up loose ends with Kiwami's happenings. Fighting his past, finally getting over it in a way.

I thought more about this when I listened to Ebinas boss theme again, because one part has those bells(?) And they sound so much like in For Whose Sake. And then I thought back to the ending more and realized that the whole buildup of it was so much like Kiwami too!

In the finale, first you fight [Villain], who is also the main culprit behind a big government conspiracy. He has helpers with him, and attacks with a gun/guns.

At first you only fight the helpers, then him together with those helpers.

The music is intense and dreadful, everything feels really epic.

Then, after that fight, it goes to the REAL final boss fight. Inside a room, high up on the Millennium Tower, you fight him. Both Nishiki and Ebina are so similar already in their own ways. And the fight is more personal, with emotion behind it. Just that it ends with Nishiki killing himself, but Ebina, while he basically begs for Kiryu to kill him, survives.

The music during the fight has it's ups and downs (intensity-wise) and manages to feel both melancholic and relaxing, as much as they hype you up.

So yeah, it's all such a direct mirror up to the point how it ends. And Kiryu was trying his hardest to prevent things from happening again.

There are often similar themes and plots throughout Yakuza, makes sense, such a long running series, but I think in this particular case it's just so very fitting and it's just SO similar and fits the reflection and fix-it theme of Kiryu's part of the story so well. Especially with how Kiryu's tragic story all started with Yakuza 1 (going by release), still haunting him through every game with constant flashbacks, and now it ends with a story so similar.

Or well, let's hope so, I just want Kiryu to finally rest bruh 😭😭

Number 2:

"Rupture". The name of Hanawa's theme in Gaiden.

Just blatantly taking dictionary definitions here, but there are two ways the word "Rupture" works:

1) (especially of a pipe or container, or bodily part such as an organ or membrane) break or burst suddenly.

"If the main artery ruptures, he could die"

2) breach or disturb (a harmonious feeling or situation).

"Once trust and confidence have been ruptured, it can be difficult to regain"

Keeping that in mind, moving on.

Maybe listen to Hanawa's battle theme for this one, to really visualize it.

Now, whenever I put on the good ol' Gaiden All Boss Battle Themes video, whenever Hanawa's theme came on, I thought wow, this song is really completely different, huh.

But the nature of the song felt quite fitting for a character like Hanawa.

It starts of dark, mysterious, there's a sadness to it. Just like Kiryu now, he has been a man who once "died" and has since then been forced to live in the shadows, his every move being controlled by others. He's like a bird trapped inside a cage.

Then, the song picks up, becomes more intense.

Hanawa's internal struggle and his fight with Kiryu.

When you fight him, the whole scene around it honestly, is like the bird trying to escape this cage. And while nothing that happened was really "real", as in, no fatalaties would've happened because it was all a test, it did feel real for Hanawa and Kiryu. Now looking at the second definition for rupture, it's just like here, on a way more emotional level. And all so sudden. And this is the beginning of him being more and more risky when it comes to the Daidoji, and he keeps on helping Kiryu more than he should, its like his rebellion.

In Infinite Wealth, during the raid on the safe house, it was also all so sudden. It all happened so fast.

The music is picking up. It's nearing the end of the song, and everything becomes so loud and overwhelming - Hanawa suddenly gets shot and dies - then immediately after the wild and short final buildup, silence again. It's a slow, quiet somber tune, like at the beginning of the song, but now fading out... And Hanawa is declared dead.

The sudden rupture lead to immediate casualty, physical this time.

I'm sorry, I DON'T KNOW WHY I MAKE MYSELF SO MUCH SADDER OVER THIS SCENE. But come on, it's just... so perfect, right? 😭😭😭😭

I miss Hanawa so much man. I was really pissed that this is the way they let him go, but just now, after listening to his theme again for the first time since I even started Infinite Wealth, it felt like it just all made sense now. It just clicked. His theme is like a visualisation of his whole story throughout the games.

And it's honestly, sadly perfect. The composers for the Yakuza games are honestly such geniuses. Bringing out some of the best songs ever constantly and making them just feel so fitting for everything.

But yeah. Regardless of if this was meant to be interpreted similiary or not, it just kind of adds to it all for me personally. Especially since you could now maybe see his theme in Gaiden as a bit of secret foreshadowing?

I'd like to see it that way. And maybe, seeing a bit more importance in it all is what helps me to cope with his godawful death scene, RGG what were you thinking man 🥲🥲🥲

Number 3:

Eiji.

Oh boy. Uh, I don't really know yet what the general opinion on this pathetic wet cat (affectionate) is, but I really loved this character. In both a "you're such a damn loser" and "my poor little meow meow :(" way :'D

But most importantly, what I wanna focus on to follow the (over)analyzing theme: Eiji is like a mirror of Masato.

Now, Kiryu has his Kiwami mirror in his finale and Ichiban also has one. But I think this one is way more obvious and also very ironic.

Eiji starts off with trying to earn Ichibans trust and well- it immediately works, of course, it's Ichiban! But the tactic he uses for it, faking being disabled and needing a wheelchair. It was the perfect way to make Ichiban pay attention to him first, because it would remind him of Masato. I think Ichiban immediately just started to get attached to Eiji, and now I'm thinking that Eiji was probably a bit conflicted before he turned his back on him. But his deep rooted hatred was too strong for one nice interaction with a Yakuza, something he demonized, to stop him.

I think it was kind of funny how he was basically like "You're so evil, you Yakuza will NEVER be good people!!! See how good I am while I throw down this child tied to a wheelchair, down those stairs while holding a bomb!!! That'll sure show you evil Yakuza!!!"

Ah. He's so stupid 😭

And yet, whatever happened, Ichiban just constantly called him "Ei-chan", like he's still his bestie and everything is fine. Constantly protesting against it, Eiji probably felt more and more conflicted, because Ichiban is just such a big (and naive) sweetheart. (((Side note: What's not to love about him fr 😭😭)))

So by the finale, and after Eiji had time to say how much he HATED the Yakuza and also, y'know. The whole Bleach Japan thing. Kinda like someone else, hm? Someone else Ichiban constantly insisted on treating like a friend.

But Ichiban convinced him to just turn himself him, turn his life around. Just like he eventually managed to convinced Masato through blood and tears.

And the ending scene is literally an exact mirror to Yakuza 7. Ichiban carrying someone away...

Just in Yakuza 7, it is Masato, dying in his arms, and in Infinite Wealth, it is Eiji, and he's trying his hardest so he will get out of this completely unharmed, throwing himself in front of every danger facing them, getting beat up until he passes out by the end.

You could say this too, is like a good version of another game's ending, with a character mirroring a brother-like person to the main character.

Quite ironic how Eiji started off "imitating" Masato, only to end up like him. Just that one died and one lived.

And just like Kiryu did with Ebina, Ichiban tried his hardest to stop history from repeating itself. Stop more people dying again and again.

The logo having an Infinity symbol seems oddly fitting now, you could say each circle of the symbol is Kiryu and Ichiban, and their stories are intervined in certain ways. Just that their stopped the "infinite" circle from repeating once again.

Or...something like that. I'm trying to sound smart at 5 am, I need sleep I think 😭

#yakuza #like a dragon #ryu ga gotoku #lad #infinite wealth #like a dragon infinite wealth #lad infinite wealth #IM OVERANALYZING AND RAMBLING GAHHHH IM EMOTIONAL OVER THIS GAME

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animelovelover123 · 30 days

Text

V's Yandere Alphabet

Synopsis/Author's Note: I was planning to make one of these for all the boys but this took me 6 months and I lost steam fast so this might be the only one you guys get.

The yandere alphabet template I am using was made by no gender bee on tumblr.

P.S. It took me until posting this that this is not the full alphabet, lol.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction for personal entertainment. If you are reading this, please understand that drawing/writing/reading/imagining things of this nature does NOT equate to desiring or supporting real-world assault.

Abuse = Could they ever hurt you physically or mentally? What would be the reason?

Physically? No. Mentally, kind of. He would not do it with the intent of causing harm, but some of V’s mental manipulation can hurt. He’ll pull at your heartstrings, saddle you with guilt, and talk in circles to get you to comply with his wishes all while using flowery language to mask the manipulative web he is weaving.

A big one, and the most common form of mental strain he gives you, is when he is desperate for attention and at the end of his rope. He will plead for it, reminding you that neither of you knows how long he has left to live and that he only wants to spend it with you. He does this to show you how much you mean to him, but he is also aware that he is inciting guilt in you. He does not realize how deeply and long it can affect you though until you tell/show him.

Both = You are a Yandere too, what’s their reaction?

V is intrigued and finds it amusing at first. His obsessive tendencies take longer to form, and he also does not believe he will live long so he sees your invasive and manipulative actions as entertaining with no fear of long-term repercussions. Even if you think you are being sneaky, he sees everything you are doing and he enjoys watching your reactions as he either plays along with your schemes or effortlessly evades them.

But once he finds himself falling for you in return, he gets rather depressed. He sees how desperately you want him, yet he knows, no matter how much he wants you as well, that all of your attempts to show your love will be in vain. He’ll try to pull away from you, but the more you chase, the more he wants you.

Then he finds out a way to live longer and his restraints are finally broken. You and he revel in your shared obsession, happily lavishing each other with love and attention. He sees your quirks and views them as romantic gestures. He finds out you have been stealing his things? How it warms his heart to know you want him close at all times even when home alone. Why don’t we move in together darling to save you the trouble? You’ve cancelled his plans with others behind his back? Well, why didn’t you tell him you wanted a night alone? He would love nothing more. You’ve killed a supposed love rival? Snuffing out another's life just because they threatened to take his love, though not necessary as you already have his heart, is such a beautiful display of adoration that he just has to give you a reward~

Crazy = How easy do they enter crazy mode? How do they act when they are in it?

It takes a lot for this man to snap. He is the essence of calm and collected, able to keep his composure in circumstances where most would panic and/or become angry. You could rage at him before walking out the door claiming you will never return, and though he will put up a bit of a fight, he knows deep down that you are just lashing out. After you have time to calm down you will be back in his arms soon enough. Whether by your own means or his, that was yet to be seen. This man could be in the middle of getting arrested and he would comply because he knows that this is not the end. He could easily escape prison and find his way back to you. The only true end is death, and that is what will cause him to snap.

Not his own death per se as that mental break will be directed and contained to himself. If his plan for extended life starts failing, he will fight tooth and nail to survive while rushing through the stages of grief. The most this will affect you is that he will disappear for a while as he tries to find a solution before returning when he realizes there is no hope for him and begs you to stay with him until his last breath.

The true snapping point would be a result of your life almost being lost, particularly if you try to take your own. Knowing or, worse, catching you trying to end your life flips a switch in him. He already had a lot of stress from trying to preserve his own life, but when he realizes that he could lose the primary reason he fought so hard to live all of that effort, panic, and stress gets funneled into caring for you. Now that he perceives a proverbial ticking clock for both of your lives, he will no longer allow a single second to go by without you. He will lock you up in his home and become your caretaker, tying you up so you can’t hurt yourself and taking care of all of your needs himself like feeding you and bathing you. You are his everything, and he will not let a second of both of your possibly short lives not be spent together. (see K for Kidnapped for more details)

Difference = When can you notice different behaviour in them?

At first V’s yandere tendencies were subdued and easily hidden. For the first couple months of knowing you he was under the belief that he was not long for this world. His body was actively deteriorating and soon he would have to return to Vergil.

But then he found a way that he could continue living as his own person. Maybe through killing and absorbing Urizen’s life force rather than merging with it or by somehow stealing it from others. Either way, there was a chance for him to survive and pursue a relationship with you. That is when he changed and that is when you start noticing his obsession with you.

He won't totally indulge in his attraction to you until he has proof that this lead is viable, but he will suddenly become more affectionate. Where he once kept any compliments and flirtatious remarks shrouded in flowery language so that you could not quite tell if he meant it that way became more direct and regular. The few feet he always put between you two was shorted as much as you would allow.

When he does gain evidence that his plan for a longer life is working, all restraints are off. He immediately goes to you and confesses his love. He may even tell you right then his true origins, why they resulted in him being distant at first, and how now that he has a long life ahead of him he is excited to spend it with you.

Enjoy = Do they enjoy what they’re doing to you, your life and the people around you? Do they show it?

V does worry about how some of his actions affect you. He is a bit of a philosopher type, often getting lost in thoughts or conversations about the deeper meanings and effects things have on people and the world as a whole. He is also introspective so he will occasionally worry himself over what he is doing. This line of thought doesn’t only trigger when you show hints of discomfort or hesitation. You could be perfectly happy, but he is privy to the manipulation and trickery of his that you are falling for. He considers and speculates on how his actions could warp your mind in the long run. And when he pictures the worst-case scenario, he might just guilt himself into admitting to, and apologizing for, a recent misconception he gave you.

He did not say those things with malicious intent, he just wanted to protect you from the cruel world and keep you loving him.

Force = Are they willing to force you into loving them? How will they do it?

If you are a demon, to any extent, V will force you into a contract with him, assuming he is unsuccessful in his initial attempt at convincing you to join willingly. Depending on your battle prowess he will even call you to (relatively easy) fights along with his other familiars. Seeing you in battle is just as beautiful as seeing you dance to him so he will gladly do it as long as the risk of permanent harm is practically nonexistent. No matter how skilled you are in combat though, your primary duty as one of his demons is as a companion. With you being bound to him he can call you to him whenever he wishes to be with you, which is most of the time. He’ll try to offer you space and as much free will as he can, but the more obsessed he becomes the more he will abuse this power over you. One thing to note though is that he will not force you into romantic or sexual acts, even if he technically could through your contract. No matter how much he desired you, he would never hurt you in that way.

Alternatively, say you were a human. He would force you, again assuming you don’t fall for his flowery words, to take on a demon familiar. Not just any demon though. Specifically, he wants you to bond with one of his familiars. If you want more than that that is your prerogative, the more safety you have and empowerment you feel is only a boon, but being partially bonded to one of his familiars is his requirement. He tells you that he wants to keep you safe by giving you access to one, or more, of his demons for protection, and this is true. Though V is their primary master, V will willingly put himself at a disadvantage in battle by allowing you to call one of his familiars for protection. And if you don’t call them V will send them to you. He also advertises the practical benefits of having creatures at your beck and call. One aspect that he does not fully disclose though is how being bonded to a demon under his command also acts as a tracking device for when you try to run. (See H for Hide for more details.)

Gross = What is something they think is really romantic/sweet but is actually horrifying?

He writes letters and notes to you using his blood as ink. Sometimes it is just his signature coloured burgundy, and other times you find whole notes or poems scrawled in thin, inconsistently faded cursive which he delivers to your home or work with a bandaged arm.

He already puts his heart and soul into these letters. To him, offering part of his body with them shows you his complete devotion.

Hide = How easy is it to hide from them?

Depends on if he has bound you to one of his familiars yet.

First, let's assume he hasn't. Then, honestly, it’s pretty easy as he is but one man with not a lot of connections. He can send out his familiars to scan the area for you, but they can not go too far from V. That is only if he works alone though because the few connections he does have are with people who hunt down living creatures as their profession. Sure, hunting a demon is not quite the same as hunting a person down and his friends will initially question why you would run off, but V just has to string together a tail of how you are being influenced by a denizen of hell and that they must find you before it is too late. Sure enough, he will convince the morally just crew of demon hunters to find his love and now half a dozen people are calling in favours and travelling the country looking for you. And when they do find you, even if you try to tell them that you ran away from V willingly, V’s story has already cemented itself in their brains so they will drag you back anyway. A caveat to this plan is that the crew will get more and more suspicious if you run away multiple times and V keeps asking them for their help.

One of the benefits of binding you to one of his demons is that he won't have to risk growing doubt within his friends. With you bound to one of his demons (see F for Force for more details), no matter where in the world you run V can track your location by getting his familiar to appear around you, scan the area to gather information, and relay it to him. And when he is close enough, the familiar can just pin you down and call out like a siren so V can easily find you.

Improve = Will they be willing to recover from this psychotic state for their lover?

Working off of E for Enjoy, V can find the conviction to be better for you. The problem is that he does not really know how to be better. He has only existed as his own entity for a relatively short time and has no experience with having a healthy relationship. He has only ever had you and the, sometimes maddening, urges to be with you. But because of his overwhelming love for you and the fear that his actions risk harming you, he will work towards being better.

He has to look to healthier relationships, like Nero and Kyrie’s and what little memories of Sparda and Eva’s he retains from Vergil, to understand what they look like and how he himself is failing. And if he can’t make the headway he wishes, being unable to stop himself from telling you subtle lies and trying to monopolize your attention, he will talk to someone about his feelings and urges. He understands that he does not yet really understand how to be human and is not above asking for aid in learning, for his own well-being yes, but mostly for yours.

Justification = Why are they acting like that? When did it start?

Upon being created, V knew that he did not have long to live. Soon he would join with Urizen and become Vergil once more. When he first started to fall for you, he knew it would not last due to his minuscule lifespan so would not pursue a romantic relationship. He could not, however, stay away from you. You were like a work of art, so utterly perfect that it was a miracle you even existed in such a cold and cruel world. He tried to accept the brief moments of connection you shared as enough to have him return to Vergil without regrets, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

His body was failing though, crumbling away. Perhaps when he becomes whole again Vergil will be able to be with you. But that would not be the same for you or V, and he knew that.

And then, he found a way to continue living as his own person (See D for Difference for more context). Now he had a chance to have a life with you. But always lurking in the back of his mind is the fear that this means of sustaining his body and life will fail. He does not know when he will disappear or how quickly it could take him. This is why he needs to always be with you. He doesn’t know how much time he has left and he wants to spend as much of it with you as he can. You understand, don’t you darling?

Kidnap = Are they willing to kidnap you? If so how will they do it, for how long will they keep you away and where?

He will kidnap you if you make the drastic decision to try to end your own life (see C for Crazy for more context). He has given you the freedom to do what you want, far more than most yanderes would, despite the dangers in the world because he trusted you and himself to keep you safe. But now that even you are a danger to yourself, that shattered any trust V had.

When he finds out what you were trying to do, whether it be through catching you in the act or finding out in the aftermath of a failed attempt, he will bring you to his home. He will tell you, and anyone else privy to your attempt, that he wanted to give you a safe place where you can be monitored, rest, and offer an ear to which you can discuss your feelings and thoughts without judgment. And with him being your partner, if other people knew of your attempt, they would trust him to watch over you and stop you from trying this again. And that was exactly what he would do.

So you spend the night with V in his home where he refuses to leave your side for more than a minute at a time. It was understandable though, right? He was just shaken from what you tried to do. But when you woke up you found your wrists belted together, as were your ankles, and were chained to the bed’s headboard and one of the bed’s end legs respectively.

“My love, you are awake.” V greets as he enters the room, a bowl of oatmeal in his hand. “How wonderful it is to see your beautiful eyes finally open.” You can ask him what is going on, but no matter if you question him in fear, anger, or confusion, he will smile sympathetically as he helps you sit up. “I know this may be a bit frightening my dear, but this is all for your safety. You have somehow come to the heartbreaking and erroneous belief that you should not live and have become a danger to yourself because of it. But worry not, for I love you unconditionally and will care for you in your stead. Now, open up~” He coos as he holds out a spoonful of oatmeal.

V keeps you bound for as long as it takes for him to trust you not to attack him. Still, whenever he leaves the house he chains you to the bed to make sure you don’t try anything. Soon enough he stops going out, instead spending every waking moment coddling you. He feeds you by hand, dresses you, bathes you, and loves you through any bout of emotions, be they positive or negative. You don’t get to step foot outside until after you are knocked out by drugs and discreetly transferred to a new home out in some forest. Once there he will be willing to take you on walks, if you can prove you can behave. Even if you do try to escape though, the forest is enchanted so any human without a demon guide will be lost to endlessly loop through the same areas.

After years of living like this and proving that you don’t intend to leave him or harm yourself, you may just be lucky enough to find out how V was able to keep you locked up and disappear without anyone coming to look for you. You see, your friends and family were devastated when they heard from V that you had killed yourself by running off into a demon nest and letting yourself be eaten. And then it was unfortunate but unsurprising when V, now without the love of his life, spiraled into depression, became a recluse, moved away from the city where he and his love spent their time together, and soon after joined you in the afterlife.

“What a tragic tale, isn’t it dear?” He asks you with a proud smile on his face as he feeds you your lunch.

Love me = How will they make you say “I love you”?

He has no intention of forcing the words out of you. Instead, he sees your love in your actions so he does not need to hear the words themselves. If anything, if you were to say ‘I love you’ without complete sincerity he would see it as the complete opposite. You must be upset and/or unhappy in some way. Though he does not want to pry, if you keep forcing words of affection out it will eat away at him until you pleads for you to stop and instead tell him what it is that is driving you to hurt him like this.

Moving on = If you die or escape, will they be able to move on? How easy it’ll be for them?

You are his light, his world, and the number one reason that he fought to stay alive. If you were to leave him, he would be devastated. With you gone so is his will to live, and so he will follow you into the beyond. However, one deciding factor for how he will come to his end is why you met yours. If it was some unforeseen tragedy then he would chase after you into the next world immediately. But if your death was in any way his doing, he would drag out his death. Whether it be through starvation or letting his body deteriorate, whichever was more painful and a fitter punishment for the sins he has committed.

Alternatively, if you were to escape and he could not find you, his will would slowly drain. He would spend more time and energy looking for you and despairing over not being able to find you, he would neglect what he needs to do to stay alive. Slowly his failing body would wither away or, if the option is still available, he may just make a last-ditch effort to become whole again. He knows that death would be an easier option than reforming, but his lingering feelings may unconsciously drive Vergil to keep looking for you and you wouldn’t hide from Vergil, right? Knowing you were at least alive would give V’s broken heart and soul some levity while it rotted away somewhere inside Vergil.

Non-stop = How clingy will they be when you’re in a relationship? How possessive are they? And how much free space do they give you?

V will give you a great deal more space than most yandere’s. He is fine with you spending time with others, whether he is present or not. He will even allow you to go on multiple-day-long trips, like road trips or vacations, with others. Seeing you happy and hearing you excitedly recount your outings was a joy in it of itself for him. Hearing you talk with exuberance and seeing your radiant smile as you describe the event you attended, the activity you did, and the conversations you had was just enough to make missing you worth it. It also helps that he is an introvert so is more than okay with spending some time for himself.

There is a limit to this though. If you have a job or attend school then he can get by with having you in the morning and evening. He will encourage you and praise you for your hard work before and after each day while enjoying having you all to himself. But if, on top of this, you are going out with friends two or three days a week then he’ll get antsy. He won’t get in the way, but he will get a bit needy and clingy, doing things like wanting to walk you to and from places just to spend more time with you and inviting you on more dates and activities to offset how much you go out with others.

But if others try to take up more of your time than that, V will become a lot more proactive. Suddenly you start ‘forgetting’ your phone in the other room all the time, meaning you miss calls and texts. Your calendar and alarms start messing up more, giving you incorrect times and dates causing you to miss events. V seemingly becomes more worried about your well-being. Do you have a bit of a cough? Feeling warmer than usual? A bit of a headache? Well, then it is best if you stay home. Even if it seems small now, exserting yourself by going out could just make things worse. Besides, the weather report said it might rain. So just rest at home today, V will be there to care for you.

Other = Someone else speaks or flirts with you, how will they react?

V is usually very confident and trusting of you to not betray him so does not mind when others speak to you. He doesn’t blame the person either because you are a truly fascinating person that V can’t get enough of, so others wanting to get to know you is only logical. Other’s flirting with you is usually a similar story, as he trusted you implicitly. But that does not mean he is always complicit. If you or the person give him a reason to worry, such as you seemingly reciprocating that flirtation or the person overstepping boundaries, then V will act.

It won’t be a full-on assault, physically or verbally, it will be a subtle, insidious poison that he seeps into the bothersome person. Through his words he will gracefully belittle and insult the person while showcasing his superior knowledge and sharp wit. Most of his comments don’t even immodestly register as insults, instead, they will weigh the person down bit by bit until their confidence is but dust in the wind and they realize that they have no chance in besting V in his control over your heart.

Present = What presents do they usually give you? What’s the worst and best gift you got from them?

V is a classic, artistic romantic, so expect roses and poetry, sometimes simply a pre-written piece that reminds him of you and other times it is a personal poem written by him. He can also take this to the extreme though (See G for Gross). The both best and worst thing he has given you, depending on your perspective, is having you make a contract with one or multiple of his demons (See F for Force for more detail).

Risk = How risky will they be with getting rid of rivals?

V has no intention of killing anyone. He loves you and, though you may not see it now, he knows you love him too. But if he really feels the need to dispose of someone, he has to be careful. Not so much because he fears the police or the friends and family of the victim. They could easily be tricked and manipulated into cooperating. It was his own family and friends that posed a problem. Dante, Nero, Kyrie, they would never understand. They don’t understand how deep his love is for you. If they found out he killed someone to protect his relationship with you, they would try to intervene or, worst of all, try to get you away from him. V can’t risk that.

So he carefully plans out his assassination. He can’t use his familiars because there is a chance that as soon as the police/family realize the murder was done by a demon they may call Lady or Dante’s businesses for help and they can spot Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare’s work easily. And a physical altercation, even with the aid of weapons, would cause too much of a scene. So instead, V will kill with discreet methods, such as poison, or a disposable method, such as forming a contract with a demon, sending them out on their elimination mission, and then killing the new demon familiar so it could not be traced back to V.

Sweet = Even when they’re Yandere they can be sweet. What’s their sweet Yandere side?

You are his world, his everything, and he will tell you that often. Every day he tells you and shows you how much he appreciates you and all you do, for him and others. Being able to wake up beside you, spend time with you, and hold you at night is a blessing that he will always cherish, no matter how long you are together.

Type = What type of Yandere are they?

Going off of the Yandere Fandom Wiki’s list, V would mostly be a Manipulative Yandere (Focuses on working a series of situations to prevent losing their love.) with a bit of a Submissive Yandere (Only in love with one specific person and will carry out any task asked of them.).

V has a way with words and with his ability to stay calm and collected no matter the intricate lies he is weaving, he will subtly manipulate you into things like spending more time with him and fending off anyone who seriously threatens your relationship (See O for Other for more details). He won’t just have you wrapped around his finger, as he will also make others question themselves or change their mind through his poetic, complex, cryptic wording. This can range from telling your family and friends that they should not make you go to some even, claiming things like how tired and stressed you are when in reality he just wants more time alone with you, to even beneficial things like convincing your teachers or boss to treat you better because you are such an amazing student/worker.

There is also little he wouldn’t do for you. He will of course do small things if you ask like taking you to and from appointments no matter the ungodly hour it is happening and taking you on dates to all the places you are interested in. But he will do so much more if only you ask it of him. For example, if you come to him for help, telling him about some person or group that is hurting you somehow, either directly or through association, and ask him to get rid of them, he will.

Unsure = How much trust do they have in you? What happens if you break it?

V trusts you a great deal, more than most yandere. Even when you make small mistakes he will quickly forgive you and assure you that he understands that you are doing your best and don’t truly mean any harm. If you do something drastic though, that is different. There is what will happen if you try to hurt yourself (See K for Kidnapping), but if you do something like cheat on him he will be devastated. He will blame himself for the most part, assuming he has failed to provide you with the love and affection you desire and is determined to be better. He will follow you without being too pushy, not quite a stalker but he will reappear in your life every couple of weeks to try to win your heart back. And between each meeting, he would work on improving himself in any way he thinks he is failing you, from physical to social to financial. At times he may even consider leaving you be, letting you go free, but he can’t help but be drawn to you. In the end, he would rather give up on life rather than give up on you.

Welcome = Let’s say they’re Yandere for you but you never had your first meeting… How do they initiate it?

If you two have not officially met but you have caught V’s eye, he will avoid approaching you due to the belief that he will return to Vergil soon. He does not wish to hurt you by charming you and then disappearing, though that does have a romantic air to it. So perhaps he will allow himself to be seen once or twice if the situation requires. For example, if you are attacked by demons he will jump in to save you, maybe take a moment to let his mysterious and alluring aura seep in before disappearing like a masked hero, never truly known but leaving a sense of mysticism. At least this way, when the being known as V does disappear from this world, he will live on in you to a small extent.

If/when he knows that he can prolong his life, he will search for you right away. He’ll want to keep up his dark, mysterious, romantic aura as much as possible to make a good impression. This includes not giving you all the answers right away, slipping into the shadows and reappearing for the first few meets, and not letting you meet the blabbermouth Griffon or the horrific Nightmare, at least not at first. Shadow you may meet because he trusts her to not ruin the moment and may even add to his allure as he has a powerful jungle cat at his whim.

He has read countless poems and stories of romance, and he will use that to his advantage to make your introduction to him as perfect as possible.

Zealous = If everything fails, will they be able to kill their partner? For the most part, no. Even if you fight, run, reject, and abandon him over and over he will never be pushed to kill you. The only circumstance in which he would take your life is if you have been irreparably damaged, physically or mentally. If, because of a demon attack, the cruelty of the world infecting you with an incurable disease, or you have lost your mind, if your life is nothing but suffering, he will mercy kill you. And he would follow you soon after, to be able to hold you in the afterlife and watch you be free of this pain.

#devil may cry imagine #devil may cry x reader #v x reader #devil may cry #yandere v #v dmc #v devil may cry #yandere v dmc #yandere #yandere male #soft yandere #male yandere

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plznomonkeys · 3 months

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I just imagine how Death Note would've played out if Misa had been obsessed with Light and dating him longer, but then when she lost her memories forgot why she even liked him???? Like imagine she only liked him because he was Kira, but forgot about that because of the notebook. Would've been so chaotic if she had fallen for L. Like- oml, then gets her memories back and is stuck in the middle???? I just picture Misa having an actual storyline and going "aw shit, what am I supposed to do now?" Idk, maybe not sacrificing your life for a deranged psychopath hun? Man I woulda just walked if it was me.

#l x misa #I don't like it but I like it #death note #fanfiction #someone write this so I don't have to

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asumofwords · 1 year

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

AEMOND POV

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Thoughts of manipulation and hurt, violence and assault. Obsessive themes and possessiveness.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: AEMOND!POV, Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Word count: 4k

Note: Two posts in one day? I am spoiling you all... but only because I love you hehe. This is Aemond's POV from Chapters 16 and 17, where the feast of celebrations for Helaena and Aegon's union is taking place. I did have to split this into two parts as it ran over 10k words lol, so here is Chapter's 16-17 and I will be posting Chapters 18-19 very soon. Anyway, enough of me talking !!! ENJOY! <3

AEMOND POV: Chapters 16 & 17

He sat at the table, lined with his family, whilst awaiting for the other half, eye roaming over the empty seats, that would soon be filled by the Blacks.

And how he anticipated their arrival.

More specifically, yours.

Aegon had been sitting nearby, downing cups of wine and ale faster than he should have, becoming red in the face and drunker by the minute.

Aemond was loyal to his older brother, though this did not mean that he had to particularly like him. Despite some brotherly love he had for the eldest, there was the suffocating disgust, and hatred that boiled into his very core.

His childhood tormentor.

His brother.

A man who cared very little for the crown and its duties, or his duty as a Prince to the realm. A man who whored and drank himself into a stupor, and abused the kindness of their sister.

That was something to Aemond that was unforgivable.

Aemond noted that his mother looked anxious, and although her hands found themselves busy amongst the cups upon the table, or holding themselves in her lap, there was the undeniable fidgeting that was there too.

King Viserys sat at the table silently, his son believing it due to the mans ailment, more than his distaste for his other children. In fact, Viserys was never too interested in Aemond, nor Daeron, but showed love regardless, however, more towards Aegon until he had become more, and more drunk, and a love for Helaena that had never dwindled.

Though as his illness progressed, his ability to be present for his children lessened. In fact, his ability to be present at all had declined until soon, Aemond’s mother and grandfather held the realm for him in his absence.

When would the old bastard die?

By the looks of it, the One-Eyed Prince surmised that his father did not have much longer to live. His skin grew paler by the day, and it was a rare occurrence, that had not been seen, for the man to not be placated by milk of the poppy.

Aemond’s distaste for his father did not come from nowhere.

It was years of neglect, no dragon egg in his crib as was tradition, no interception of the bullying that he endured, and no sympathy for the eye that was lost, that led to the rift of their relationship, if any was there at all.

Aemond remembered that fateful night clearly.

He remembered how instead of his father coming to console his son for the loss of his eye at the age of only ten, instead threatened the young boy with removing his tongue for a truth that was spoken by most people in court, and most importantly, his wife.

And eye for an eye, his mother had said.

He supposed the Gods had come late when they had taken Viserys’ for his place in that evening.

But soon he would pass, and a new nightmare would begin. His brother would take the throne and rule over the Kingdom, and once again, Aemond would have to bend to his brothers will.

And as he waited amongst the sea of sounds, Lords and Ladies of the realm laughing and speaking loudly, music playing amongst the sides of the garden, and quiet chatter at his own table between Otto and Alicent, he impatiently asked the Gods to hurry the day along and deliver you to him.

The Gods answered Aemond’s prayers.

At first he saw the silver hair of his half-sister and uncle, both dressed in black as per usual, and both with their heads held high in an almost dangerously proud fashion.

Behind them, were your two bastard brothers, hair as dark as Ser Harwin Strong’s, and eyes as brown as the bark of the Godswood. Beside them their betrothed, and together, a vision of the evening his eye had been taken from him.

Then there was you.

Trailing along at the back, taking your time, with the same posture as your parents.

Dangerously prideful, boastful even.

He was not sure what he had been expecting, but as you walked through the garden, through the sea of tables and Lords and Ladies of the realm, and as their eyes turned to stare upon your form, he could not help but feel a sense of pride and anger.

Another Dornish dress.

You were teasing him.

It looked to him to be two pieces, and those two pieces were fit to your form perfectly, almost painted on. And how he wished to rip it off of you.

The top was of the finest leather, folded perfectly to your frame, with a high neck and a cut out space were the soft, pillowy flesh of your breasts were visible. A black skirt with red peeking through drew his attention to your legs and hips, swaying with each step as you sauntered up to the table to join them for the celebrations.

Each step you took, each breath you inhaled, caused your breasts to push against the soft leather, only tempting the young Prince further. He wished to run his tongue along the supple skin showing, in front of all the men and women, and the King be damned.

Aemond used all of his restraint to not jump up from the table and pull you away from the crowd, to fuck you roughly against the castle walls, his bed chambers, your bed chambers, in the dragon pit even. He would fuck you in the garden, and in the roots of the Godswood to show them that you were meant to be his, and under their eyes you would be.

But then as the closer you got to him, the more time he had to let his lone eye gaze at the people who were also watching you. And the bitter rage and disgust flooded him faster than the lust did.

Those mens eyes, even married Lord’s, watched you hungrily, and you did not even care for it.

In fact, he was sure that you enjoyed it.

That you lived for the attention that you were getting from the scandalous outfit. From the way the bodice hugged your form and waist, to how your breasts were softly teased to the garden. And what it made it all worse, was that you were not promised to anyone.

And that made you fair game.

As you came to sit by him and Helaena, and the rest of your family and bastard brothers sat and observed him with wary eyes, he found jealousy in having you greet everyone but him.

Even his drunken brother.

“Princess Helaena, you look beautiful. Gold is a wonderful colour on you.” You had complimented his sister, and oh how sweet your voice sounded.

Those lips which could spout such poison, such vitriol and discontent, which could rip and tear at you easily, were so syrupy with his sister.

And he envied it.

He wished that you would acknowledge him, tell him that he looked good that afternoon. That you had noticed that he had spent time and effort on himself, and had noticed that his maids had brushed gentle scented oils into his long hair, braiding half behind his head.

But you didn’t.

Nor did you spare him a glance.

A short snort came from the pursed lips of Aegon, who’s goblet had not seemed to move from his face. Aegon these days, as closer as their father got to death, had become closer to drinking himself into his own cups.

He had watched as you held your tongue and instead smiled at Aegon, and Aemond wished to launch himself across the table and squeeze the life out of his brother for ever having the privilege of having such a smile given to him.

No matter how insincere.

And then the sweet, syrupy tone of your voice was quickly exchanged with the sour bite of your disdain as Aegon continued to push you to fight, push you to react, and the more Aemond watched the interaction, the more concerned he became.

Aemond was not the only man who had noticed you that evening, nor the Lords of the realm. Instead, Aegon had set his sights onto you, and once again, Aemond was left to feel as though his brother would swoop in to take what was his.

“Has anyone told you how delightful you look today?”

Aemond imagined what it would be like to slip a blade into the throat of his brother and yank it swiftly to the side, pulling his flesh from his bones, to watch the thick blood pour from the wound he would create.

Alicent cringed, and Aemond felt all the more incensed.

How many times did his brother have to cause his mother’s distress? How many times did they both have to pick up after him? To constantly watch over him him? A man grown, and older than he?

Aemond almost sighed in relief as you dodged his brothers crude comment, instead directing the positive attention back to Helaena.

How you always doted on her.

You would be such a good mother.

He could not wait to give you his seed.

As the evening wore on, you had pulled your favourite fruit from in front of you. And he watched, as he always did, your delicate hands begin to pull the juicy flesh apart.

The nectar ran down from your fingers, dripping to your wrist slowly, the afternoon light glinting against it. He watched as you placed chunks of the fruit into your mouth and chewed with half shut eyes in delight of the taste, listening to those around you conversing.

Aemond found that he could not pay attention to the low tones of his grandfather and mother, nor the whispers of Daemon and Rhaenyra. He could only focus on you, and the sounds you made as you chewed.

Sounds you were not even aware of.

Tiny contented sighs and moans fell from your plush lips, so quiet that anyone would have to strain to hear it, and Aemond was straining to hear anything that left your pretty mouth.

What would it feel like for him to brush his thumb against the bottom of your lip, sticky with star fruit? Would you suck his thumb into your mouth crudely? Would you kiss at the tip? Or lick at it gently as you looked at him with your violet eyes.

The thought went straight to his cock, and he felt himself hardening inside his breaches.

And then you began to lick at your fingers, soft, pink tongue coming out to chase the nectar as it dripped from the fruit and made a mess of you, and it took everything within him to not kiss you then and there.

Would you lick his cum from your fingers like that? After to bringing him to release with your hand or mouth? Or perhaps you had scooped his seed from within you, drawing it up to your lips to taste your combined essence?

He knew you would be insatiable.

Or perhaps you would lick at the juices from your own cunt? Tongue wet with your own slick that you would drag from your fluttering hole, up to your waiting lips.

Would he fuck you with his hand, feeling you tighten around his digits and your release coat his palm? Would he bring those fingers up to your mouth to clean? And would you lick them so diligently like the dutiful wife he would make you?

Aemond wished to feel your tongue sliding up his shaft before licking and sucking at the tip of his cock. He wanted to see your hands and mouth coated with his seed, not the nectar of the star fruit.

But then Daemon had cleared his throat, and you had turned to witness Aemond staring at you, devouring the star fruit, and you had become oh so meek, so demure, so pure, and discontinued your ravaging of the Dornish delicacy. Aemond cursed his uncle in his head, and made a note that he was being watched.

You still had not acknowledged him.

Still had not greeted his presence despite being so close. Still had not met him with your usual snark, or attitude, or disgust filled eyes. It was as if he did not exist.

And he hated it.

You had even made conversation with his own grandfather, Otto, who you had made very clear, from your return, of your disdain for. But even still, you met his questions with answers and returned them in kind.

It incensed him.

Why were you ignoring him?

“You look lovely, Princess Y/n.” As the words left his mouth, the young man thought to himself, let the games begin.

You had straightened your back and taken a deep breath in, before you had finally met his own eye. Violet met violet, and suddenly you were facing each other, and he fell straight into your eyes.

A dangerous trap they were, and oh so tempting for any mortal man.

“Thank you, Prince Aemond. You are far too kind.”

The syrup was back.

Was it strengthened by the nectar of the fruit you had made love to?

“I don’t believe I’ve seen such a dress before, at least not in this court.”

Aemond fought to not lean forward to get a closer look, and instead, pushed himself back into his chair to restrain himself.

“It was made specially for an occasion such as this, a tailor in Dorne creates the most wonderful pieces.”

Such a boastful little thing.

So much pride.

“Hmm. Dorne does have many exotic things….”

To his disappointment, at the topic of Dorne you had turned excitedly to talk to Helaena about the exotic fruits and spices there. Animatedly telling short tales, and making promises to your aunt that you would go together.

He felt himself relax as he watched Helaena smile, a rare occurrence these days, and Aemond felt gladdened for it, but then Aegon snickered loudly, and wrapped his rough hand around Helaena, and Aemond watched the sickly sweet air around you turn sour, in a blink of an eye.

“Our niece does know how to talk, doesn’t she?” Aegon breathed into Helaena's face, and Aemond wished to hit the man in the mouth, lest it ever be opened again.

He did not know how his mother allowed for him to treat her in such a manner. He did not know how he could abuse her, and use her, and treat her worse than a commoner.

Than a whore.

How Helaena had sought comfort from Aemond many times after Aegon’s drunken attacks. How Helaena would sob in his arms at first, but eventually as time turned, and the abuse did not stop, she turned silent, and instead of sobs, there would be blinks and small words exchanged, until nothing at all.

Not quite present, not quite absent.

She was simply there.

“And you know how to drink brother.”

Aemond’s eye never left Helaena’s shoulder where Aegon’s hand dug roughly into her flesh.

His gaze was a warning, and Aegon heeded it.

Aegon's grip left your aunt, and reached out in show to grab at his goblet, before lifting it to his lips, challenging his brother as he emptied the cup, before thrusting it behind him for a server to come fill it up once more.

“And you know how to ruin the fun.” Aegon sulked.

The afternoon carried on and he watched as Helaena snatched you up from the table, declaring the both of you would dance, before she dragged you down into the sea of people, celebrating a disastrous marriage.

Even with one eye, even from afar, amongst a sea of dancing and moving people, he could spot you from a mile away. It was not the silver head of hair that gave you away, it was you. The way you smiled, lips pulling apart as your teeth showed to the room, the way your eyes would light up as you grinned and laughed.

It was the way your skin looked so soft, softer than all present. Like you had been made of silk and velvet, but carved from marble and stone. How he wished to touch you, all of you, to feel the soft skin of your flesh against him, to press you harder against him.

To press himself harder into you, rutting against you viciously, feeling the tip of his cock meet the end of your cunt, as you curled beneath him.

All those around you looked dull, and common in comparison.

Plain featured women and men who dared to sometimes grasp his own attention, as if their commonly features would lure him into an allyship, friendship or the warm bed of another.

A bed that was not yours.

Watching both you and Helaena smile was addictive. To see you so carefree, so relaxed and happy in his sisters presence, made him wish to be the one to bring you such happiness. Such elation.

And it soured him to know that he would never be able to, despite his efforts.

The stale yellow hair of Jason Lannister flitted into his view, a man who had no doubt, also been bewitched by the Princess. And Aemond watched in anger as the man was drawn to you like a moth to flame, his feet carrying him hurriedly, yet not too hurriedly under the watchful eyes of his wife, as he made his way to you.

When Jason interrupted you and Helaena, Aemond noted that you too looked disgusted and put off by the mans presence, and as the Lannister leant his face towards you, Aemond shot up from his seat, ignoring the sudden watchful gaze of all at the table, most importantly his own mother, who watched him knowingly as he stalked down to where you where.

The bodies parted for Aemond, like a ship parts the rough waves of the sea, and all he could do was set his sight on you, as you desperately glanced at Helaena for an out.

And Aemond would give you one.

“A union of House Targaryen and House Lannister would be a formidable force.” The slimy Lion suggested, and Aemond took a sharp breath through his nose to prevent himself from declaring treason that this man would even dare to think that he was worthy of you, to even be in your presence, let alone warm your bed.

“I'm sure it would be.” You had spoke bluntly, disgusted by the proposal, and Aemond felt pride, “I think I remember my mother telling me of your offer to her when she was-“

He stood behind you now, and watched as you moved to turn away, lips open to land the last verbal blow at the man before you, but all halted as you collided with him. The young prince felt the softness of your skin, and smelt the sweet oils in your hair as you lifted your gaze to look into his eye.

Your face was either flushed from dancing, or flushed from being so close to him. He could not decide.

But the wild look in your eye, and the way that your lips snapped shut, and your chest rose and fell more rapidly, as though readying yourself for him, gave him all the confirmation he needed.

Aemond lifted his hand and held it out to you, wishing you would put your small little hand in his so he could dwarf it in size, so that he could hold you and squeeze you, and feel you for once in a way that was not sacrilegious.

Aemond did not bother to take his eye from you, nor did he bother to turn to acknowledge the distasteful man beside him, whose gaze felt warm on the side of Aemond’s face.

Pestilent cunt.

“Apologies for the interruption My Lord, but my niece had promised me a dance.”

Aemond delighted in how your face screwed up, in confusion, in anger, in defiance. And as your lips parted to deny him of what he sought out, you were interrupted by the grating voice of the man beside you both.

The pissant Lord of Casterly Rock bowed down to him as a good dog would, and conceded to the Princes uncourtly interruption.

For a man with so much pride, such arrogance, and little intelligence but the knowledge that money held power, and the Lannisters had plenty, the man simply walked away, submissively back to the arms of his wife, and sulked.

It made Aemond feel powerful, and his cock jumped at-

“I don’t recall promising you a dance, uncle.” You spoke lowly, hoping for the music and voices of others around you to drown out your sour tone. But it didn’t, and Aemond had heard you, and Helaena had disappeared back towards the table, noting his presence with their niece.

She knew.

Words were exchanged, and he had purred in your ear and felt your body shiver, and watches as your eyes dilated, and lips wet themselves with your tongue.

He had called you ravishing, and you had accepted it. And it was the truth, you were ravishing. You were what all gazed upon that evening, and all that people whispered about.

The Realm’s Delight had birthed the Realm’s Pleasure.

Pride and jealousy chased themselves in circles around Aemond, as he caught people watch the both of you dance. And how well you had danced, so graceful, so soft and so flowing, like a body of water.

So perfect for him.

“I expected you to be in green for such an event.” You had snipped, and he had not bothered to give you a response.

It would not have been dignified.

He had thought about making a comment about your dress, about the tartiness of it all. Of how you showed far more skin than anyone else in the court, despite being above all else. But he held his tongue in his mouth as it began to feel bitter and sharp.

It would do well to not stir you. He had made a promise to his mother to behave.

Both he and Aegon had.

‘Let them show their depravity to all. Let them be the ones to land the first blow against themselves. Do not give in to their beastly ways.’

But how was he to resist?

He was a man, and there was your fire.

It made him want to hit you and kiss you all at once.

And as you slowed to a stop, you had looked up at him and given him a small smile, which he had prayed for all evening to see. A smile in which he had wished for all day, and craved like a man starved.

For in the Red Keep, Aemond was alone in a desert, walking amongst the sandy hills, heat beating down upon him, and then you had smiled. And it was as if he had tasted the cool, wet of water on his tongue for the first time in years.

Like that smile, such a small one at that, where your lips pulled gently to the side and your cheeks rose, gave him all that was needed to sustain him for life.

“Thank you for the dance, uncle.”

And he knew then, that he would need it again, and again, and again, lest he succumb to the dry desert wasteland and die.

Aemond watched you courtesy and race away back to the table, where he trailed slowly, watching your hips sway through the crowd of people, who also looked on.

They should have their eyes plucked from their skulls.

He committed their faces to his memory for this purpose alone.

The young Prince watched you excuse yourself to the garden. And he thought that if he sat at the table, he could resist the urge to chase after you. He had sat back down, his mothers eyes watching him curiously, and the heat of Daemon’s gaze violating his person.

And he had done such a good job of sitting, he had even pulled his goblet to his lips to sip, before his urges won over, and he stood from the table, excusing himself, to look for you.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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