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iicarused · 5 months

Text

##let us adore you

jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED

synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them

beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !

envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)

JEFF THE KILLER

he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?

he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.

“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.

you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?

he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.

“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.

“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”

through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.

“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”

you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.

EYELESS JACK

you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.

you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.

to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving

“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.

the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.

the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.

“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.

you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before

this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights

he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.

TICCI TOBY

your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.

he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.

everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.

you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.

turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be

“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.

you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”

while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.

“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”

#ᥫ᭡.#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x you #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #jeff the killer imagine #eyeless jack imagine #ticci toby imagine

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bedoballoons · 8 months

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Hello, could i request a Jealous! Lyney who has yet to confess to reader who receives gifts and letters during valentines day?

Awwwe valentines day!! One of my favourites because it's so lovely! Thank you so much for your request and I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Valentines from all but him~༺}

CW: Lyney gets jealous! Confessions and reader is well liked by many!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You stood there in shock as the mailbox spilled its contents onto the ground, absolutely overflowing with candies, love letters and even a rose...which was more like a group of random petals after being crushed by everything else. By the looks of it you had probably received almost thirty confessions...maybe more and you took care picking each one up, even the petals despite the fact you'd most likely wouldn't reciprocate their feelings. The least you could do was be kind about it.

Meanwhile, Lyney stood next to you...doing his best to keep face while you smiled at all the cutesy letters and blushed at all of the gifts you'd received. If only he could have confessed before valentine's day...then you wouldn't have received any letters at all because the two of you would be dating, or at least he hoped you'd be dating. Currently he was just your friend, a friend who was so desperately in love with you that he got jealous from little love notes. "My you've sure got a lot of confessions, are you...interested in anyone in particular?"

You set all the mailboxes contents in your bag carefully and smiled at Lyney, if only he knew you were holding out hope that he might like you they do..."Oh, well I suppose there is one guy I like alot...." You blushed slightly, wondering if maybe it was a bit to forward...or maybe not forward enough?

"Who?" Lyney felt a little sick upon hearing you liked someone, it was like his chances were getting slimmer with every second, at least if he knew he could compare himself and see if he could win you over...maybe he could show you some of his prototype magic tricks he'd never shown anyone else or rearrange the stars, he knew whoever you liked couldn't possibly do that.

"I cant tell you that!" You panicked, you couldn't let him find out you liked him, it could ruin your friendship...and you'd loose one of the most incredible people you'd ever met. "I mean...sorry I'm just not ready to share that yet. I really want to know he likes me back first..."

Lyney bit his lip, this was truly a dilemma...you liked someone and he didn't know who, he had a confession all ready for you, but he didn't want to upset you by being to forward...but he also didn't want to never try, then his eyes meeting yours for a moment and he just...couldn't let someone else have you, "Please, don't hesitate to tell me no...but I...I have a gift for you as well."

"What?" You felt your heart skip a beat, the world was suddenly spinning...you had dreamt of this and yet it didn't feel real, no you should stay calm, what if it was a platonic gift, but then again who gives platonic gifts on valentine's day?! You felt like you could explode...

Lyney reached into his pocket and pulled out paper butterflies that flew all around you... sprinkling heart confetti everywhere until the biggest of them landed in your hands... unfolding to reveal a letter...

To my dearest,

I must admit...I've written this letter at least a hundred times and I've just never had the confidence to give you it till now...I know, hows that possible when you're able to put on shows in front of thousands of people and put yourself in crazy situations that could have dire consequences...

Well none of those things terrify me as much as the idea of loosing you as a friend...but keeping my feelings to myself...I can't do it anymore. Maybe this is selfish of me...maybe you won't want to ever speak to me again..but I'm hoping I can convince you...to feel the same...

In truth, I've loved you for so long that I don't know if I could ever truly not love you now, you're everything I could ever want and so much more. So beautiful...that even now as I write this I'm having to stop myself from getting lost in my thoughts about you...

I could go on forever, but this letter has already gotten rather long so...I'll just say what I've been meaning to..

I love you.

-Lyney

You'd never read anything like it, nothing had ever come close to having so many feelings behind written words and you had to reread it a few times to actually make yourself believe it was really for you...that Lyney had really written it. "Lyney...I don't even...know what to say. I don't think I've ever felt anything close to this before..."

"It's perfectly fine if you don't accept-"

You cut him off with a hug, tears rolling down your cheeks from all the wonderful emotions you just couldn't control..."I do accept! I accept your feelings with all my heart Lyney, archons I love you so much, i-im so happy!"

He didn't know how to respond to such good news...so he just hugged you back, letting what you had just said sink in. This was...everything he had wished! "I love you too"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #lyney genshin #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyneyfluff #lyneyhcs #lyney headcanons

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originalaccountname · 7 months

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Thank you for your reply!

And yeah, I mean when Chuuya shows up the first time in the manga and Dazai says that he sent a letter so Chuuya can't kill him, and oops Chuuya broke the chains so it looks like he broke Dazai out. His plan to me seemed like a bit of a plot hole at first because Chuuya is stronger and there's a bunch of cells and chains at his convenience in the mafia dungeon, and even without that there's nothing stopping him from continuing to punch Dazai...but part of me wonders if they both chose to ignore that on purpose and that is very funny to me. What's your take on that scene?

I have the unpopular opinion Dazai was 100% bullshitting his way through that encounter with Chuuya. Yes he could have escaped earlier, but he was waiting for a specific moment to do so. He was estimating the timing of what the others were doing. This is happening while sskk are having their battle on the ship and the ADA just got Ranpo on finding them. I fully believe that when Chuuya showed up it was a "oh no a sudden obstacle has appeared" situation to Dazai:

They bicker and fight like we've grown used to them doing, though Chuuya is the most violent he's been to him since he rammed him into a wall when they first met. There is pent up frustration and anger there. It's also Chuuya's introduction, so we quickly need to establish that he's strong, prone to getting annoyed by Dazai, and looks very cool. I'm serious his solo panels are so extra.

When Chuuya finally asks Dazai why he stayed captured instead of escaping, Dazai has to take a moment to think before answering him:

What happens here is that Dazai starts by saying the truth, that he let himself be captured to know who wants Atsushi. That destabilizes Chuuya, because Dazai helping someone isn't something Chuuya is used to. This leads to Chuuya taunting Dazai for having "gone soft" and revealing that he just came back from a mission:

Chuuya put himself at a disadvantage that way: if he was away and just came back, he is not aware of all the details and recent developments. Look at the bottom right panel on the second page ^, all black with a thinking bubble. Dazai just got an idea. Dazai can use this.

"if that were true, they should have contacted..." <- Chuuya wasn't told about any executive meeting because Dazai is making it up right now. There was no letter. Dazai is making up a dilemma for Chuuya to get stuck on, with just enough plausibility that Chuuya can't immediately brush it off.

Plus, when Chuuya is finally cornered, he simply assumes Dazai one-upped him again by turning his own words against himself:

When he walks in:

When Dazai corners him:

When Chuuya first said he was here to spite him, Dazai looked tense. When Chuuya remembers it, it's to Dazai's little "yep" + looking away pretending this was aaaaall planned and not at all something he just came up with.

Dazai is the "improvise adapt overcome" king, I have no doubts he enjoyed making Chuuya squirm, but I don't believe he stayed for that at all. It was just a surprise treat.

Chuuya absolutely had more options than killing Dazai or letting him escape there. There really wouldn't have been any surprise to Chuuya going "yeah so I broke his restraints and then put him back sorry". He just sort of gave up the idea of holding Dazai back in any way. Yeah he could have chained him up. Dazai would have escaped anyway. Chuuya knew Dazai was only waiting for something.

And you want me to believe Mori was aware they captured and chained Dazai and expected him to stay there? They have the same escape artist hobby. Mori was taking bets with Kouyou for how long it would take Dazai to get out. Mori wants Dazai back: chapter 10-11 are in the 3rd volume, and the bonus of the 4th volume is Chuuya drunkenly calling Dazai to complain about the boss telling him he wishes Dazai would come back. Why would killing Dazai even be on the table?

My final thoughts though is BSD is a live series that has been going on for over 10 years, and it's expected that some details would change as time goes on. Dazai asked Chuuya why he bought his hat. Dazai of all people should know what the hat represents. Asagiri just didn't know yet what the hat would mean because this was chapter 10 and Chuuya was just introduced. So everything is to take with a grain of salt.

#i have strong opinions on this #long post #because manga pages take a lot of space oops #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd analysis #?#bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #skk #soukoku #apparently i talk sometimes #ask answered

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chez-cinnamon · 11 months

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Love your au to bitss!! Gives me itches in my brain in the most /pos way possible<3

If you don't mind I might make some oc insert stuff with your au in the future! Although a small question before I do that–

What if Frank and Eddie (+Howdy hehe) already have children. Like these kids were just other neighbors in the show that somehow didn't get sucked into whatever dilemma the cast are now in. The kids are just lost somewhere and the dads just miss them. What would Peony think when she finds out about them through the dads? And would she accept new siblings 👁️👁️

And yeah that kinda makes Fionn a grandpa lmao

Thanks so much!! <3 And go for it, draw OC inserts I love em!!

I need to work on it more, but Frank, Eddie and Howdy do get children in one potential "ending" to the AU, as in the puppets manage to go home and their world greets them back magically - and when Frank and Eddie go home, they go upstairs and find this lil goober as a baby:

Meet Florian!! An exact blueprint of Papa Eddie in every sense, this lil guy, when not taking naps left right and centre, is accompanying Eddie on his post rounds, helping him deliver letters like his papa would with his mother when he was young! He loves all three of his dads, playing with Father Frank and clinging to Daddy Howdy while he works!

I should also mention that in this ending, Fionn, Cassidy and Peony find a way to go to Home and magically become puppets, and well -

Let's say Peony wasn't too thrilled meeting Florian at first

#welcome home #welcome home au #welcome home oc #real world au #frank frankly #eddie dear #frank x eddie #frank x eddie x howdy #chezzy ocs peony #chezzy ocs florian #Peony's puppet design might change #but I wanted her to be a mix of frank and howdy #while retaining Finnigan puppet features #since Fionn would be a rabbit puppet #also peony has SEVERE attachment issues #she's lived in foster care and resented Fionn for not bringing her in at first

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wackapedia · 1 year

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Child Labour

Finan x reader Plot: Finan recruits a kid to help him shoot his shot with y/n 🤪 Warnings: None! Just fluff and teasing Wordcount: 811 :) A/N: pls look at little Aethelstan in the pic lollll

"These are for you, lady..." Young Aethelstan runs over to where you were standing, in a hurry to get this errand over with so he can return to his books. His speech sounded flat and somehow rehearsed, but you appreciated the gesture anyway.

"Why, thank you, Aethelstan! These are beautiful. Did you pick these for me?" You asked the little boy.

No, lady, it was Finan who-" The boy realizes his slip-up. "I shouldn't have said that..." He brings his hand to his lips as he laughs at his blunder. You were surprised to hear this new information as you ruffled the boy's hair.

"Tell you what, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear what you've just said so you can safely report to your lord Finan that you succeeded in your mission. Deal?" You offer a high five, and the boy eagerly nods and hits his little palm against yours. Aethelstan then runs off to where Finan was fondly watching your interaction, hiding in a corner. As soon as the Irishman finishes interrogating Aethelstan, the boy is paid one coin and then hurries off to resume his studies.

"You know, you can just hand me the flowers directly..." Your presence startles Finan. "And the coin too!" You laugh as he turns around to face you.

"A-ah, well, the boy named his price..." Finan reasons out, realizing Aethelstan's scam. 'That cheeky bastard,' he thinks.

"It's the third time this week, is it? So that's three pieces of silver?" You laugh, interrogating the flustered Irishman.

"He asked for five coins the first time..." Finan mumbles guiltily. It's such a wonder how the brave and agile Finan is reduced to a shy, bumbling mess in front of you. His adorable cheeks blush under his thick beard as he stands there, lovingly gazing into your eyes. You patiently wait for something—perhaps an offer—but the man remains stunned by your presence.

"Good day, Finan! Thank you for these. They're lovely." You wave the bunch of flowers to him and slowly step away, hoping he'll finally ask you out.

The morning drags on as Rumcofa takes on various tasks throughout the day. Before you know it. The evening rolls upon the town, and children are called back home for supper. Two boys, however, remain in the open field. One plays with his wooden sword, and the other holds up an illustrated book of sword fighting for the other one to follow.

"Boys!" You watch Cynlaef and Aethelstan immediately turn their heads when you call them.

"Do you know where Finan is?" You ask both of them as you fold a sheet of paper.

"Not this again!" Aethelstan complains, but Cynlaef nods affirmatively to your question.

You hand him the folded paper and instruct him to deliver it to Finan and to lead him back to your house if he accepts. Cynlaef nods and runs off while you lead Aethelstan to your house to prepare your supper.

Well, why didn't you ask her out?!" Uhtred exasperatedly responds to Finan after he exposes his dilemma to his best friends. "Maybe he got shy!" Sihtric pokes the Irishman's side, which earns him a smack to the shoulder. The sun was setting as the trio packed up from the pier in Rumcofa. Just then, Cynlaef's little feet patter against the boarded path, and he hands the letter to Finan, patiently waiting for him to finish reading. Once Finan looked up from the sheet, all colour seemed to have drained from his face.

"Do you accept, lord?" Cynlaef asks.

"Accept?!" Finan exclaims a little too loudly, almost scaring the boy. "Accept?! I will propose to her right now if she'd like! Take me to her!"

And this is how Finan finds himself spending his evening. Sitting in front of you, dinner all laid out on a wide table for four because the two orphan boys sit on each side. Conversation finally flows freely between the both of you, mostly because Finan is at the receiving end of Aethelstan's annoyed glaring and Cynlaef's teasing smiles. After the meal, Finan offers to help you clean up, and suddenly the both of you are reaching for the same plate, faces just an inch apart. It stays this way for quite a while, your eyes exploring his, your breath warming his reddened cheeks. You catch his eyes drifting to your lips, wondering how they would feel against his own. Slowly, he moves a little closer, closer, ever closer, and-

"Finan, didn't you say you were going to ask her to marry you?" Cynlaef interrupts the moment, and Aethelstan laughs heartily, also observing the two idiot adults in front of them.

Like opposing magnets, you pull away from each other upon remembering the two boys in the room. The plate crashes and hits the floor. Your faces are as red as tomatoes, avoiding each other's glances.

#finan x reader #finan the agile #finan #the last kingdom #tlk #the last kingdom x reader #the last kingdom fanfic

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fafnir19 · 6 months

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Sporting Incentive

I stood outside the charming London apartment, feeling an electric thrill in my bones. Six months in this enchanting city awaited me, and I was ready to embrace every adventure it had in store.

I simply swapped apartments with another student who was also studying abroad. The other student’s name was William, and his apartment was centrally located—a perfect find for me.

As I stepped inside, the interior was as impressive as the exterior. Clean and stylish, with a touch of sophistication that made me feel right at home. A letter from William sat on the dining table, welcoming me to his apartment and assuring me that a cleaning lady would come weekly. I grinned as I read the part about making use of William's sports equipment and clothing. The apartment was a treasure trove of athletic gear. It seemed William was quite the athlete, unlike myself. From the bike leaning against the wall to rows of equipment for various sports, I couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration and a pang of guilt for not being as sporty.

The day London's public transportation went on strike, I found myself in a on a dilemma. I needed to get to the university, and without hesitation, I decided to ride William's white racing bike.

It was a new experience, and at first, I struggled to find my balance. Alas, as I pedaled through the streets of London, a newfound exhilaration filled me. I was hooked. "Whoa!" I mumbled to myself, my heart racing and laughter bubbling up as I zipped through the streets, reveling in the freedom and speed of the bike. From that day on, I ditched public transportation for my trusty two-wheeled companion.

"Hey, Aiden, why don't you join us for a game of hockey?" The invitation came from a couple of guys at the university. I was hesitant at first, not being much of a hockey player, but eventually, I gave in to their pleas. Before I knew it, I was suiting up in William's hockey gear and taking to the nearby park.

The game turned out to be a surprising success. I found joy in the friendly competition, and soon enough, hockey became a regular hobby for me. "Aiden, have you ever tried rowing? Our club could use someone like you," a fellow hockey player asked one day, sparking my interest in a sport I hadn't considered before. I thought that since I was in London, I might as well try rowing—after all, it's typically English.

I took William's rowing suit and ventured to the rowing club.

The sense of unity and purpose I found there had me hooked from the very first stroke. Before long, I was waking up at the crack of dawn to row every morning before heading to the university, relishing the tranquility of the river and the rhythm of the oars. As days went on, I noticed a change in my physique due to all the sports. My own clothes no longer fit properly, so I began wearing William's refinde attire. It felt a bit odd at first, but soon, I grew to love the posh style. "Well, well, look who's turning into quite the athlete,"

a friend remarked, and I couldn't help but smile at the transformation I had undergone.

With a deep breath, I stepped into the familiar pub, the scent of ale and chatter filled the air.

William was waiting for me, a grin spreading across his face. "Aiden! I'm back earlier than expected. How's the apartment been treating you?" "It's been fantastic, William. I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here." "I'm glad you enjoyed it. By the way, you don't have to sleep on the sofa. It's not really my apartment, and I actually haven't been abroad," William confessed with a chuckle. "Wait, what do you mean it's not your apartment? What's going on?" I asked, feeling a knot of confusion forming in my stomach. "It's all part of an experiment for my master's thesis. The apartment is designed to influence your subconscious and turn you into an athlete. And I must say, it's been quite a success!" William's eyes danced with excitement. "You did what?" My voice rose in incredulity, but I found myself unable to muster anger toward William. There was an odd sense of acceptance and understanding that came over me. Before I could protest further, William dropped another bombshell. "And it seems my experiment turned out more successful than anticipated. I also tried to make you my best friend, and it looks like it worked!" I blinked, trying to process everything, but then something remarkable happened. A warmth settled in my chest, and I couldn't help but mirror William's grin.

"A world trip, you say? I've always wanted to travel with you, William." "I thought you'd say that! I've already booked the tickets. It's the perfect way to celebrate the success of my thesis," William said, excitement lacing his words. The thought of traveling the world with William filled me with an indescribable joy, and for the first time in a long while, I felt genuinely excited about something. As the days passed and the world trip drew closer, I found myself caught in a whirlwind of preparations and excitement. The sparkle in William's eyes was infectious, and I couldn't deny the thrill of experiencing the world with him. The first light of dawn illuminated the airport, casting a golden glow over the eager faces of the travelers. An array of emotions churned within me—anticipation, excitement, and a flicker of apprehension.

"Here's to new adventures, Aiden," William said, clinking his glass against mine as we waited for our flight. "To new adventures," I echoed, a genuine smile curving my lips. The world awaited us, brimming with possibilities, and for the first time, I was eager to embrace it all. As the plane soared into the boundless sky, I couldn't help but feel a semblance of freedom that I had never experienced before. Leaning back in my seat, I closed my eyes and let the hum of the aircraft lull me into a state of contemplation. What awaited me beyond the horizon?

"Hello, Josh. Yes, it's been quite an interesting experiment, and I believe it's time to put the cherry on top," William’s professor spoke into his phone, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Thank you for the generous financial support. Aiden has proven to be the ideal candidate for your law firm. He will change his subjects to law after returning from his world trip. I’ve influenced his subconscious so that he will become a dedicated and loyal employee." William’s professor said, his voice dripping with confidence.

"Oh, and I've taken up the suggestion of the HR department. Aiden will be pleased to contribute to the diversity charter as well. It seems he'll be a nice little addition to London’s gay community soon," William’s professor said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #straight to gay #athlete tf #musclegrowth #hypnosis #subconscious

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throneofsapphics · 5 months

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your writing is absolutely scrumptious and i wish i could give you all the flowers in the world for it!

i’ve had “home” by catie turner stuck in my head and i was wondering if you could write an angsty-fluffy drabble for any tog/acotar poly couple, azriel, or rhysand along the lines of the song?

footprints in the snow.

Cazriel x Reader

Summary: You, Cassian, and Azriel are in a long-distance relationship.

Warnings: light angst and fluff

A/N: aw you're so sweet, I appreciate you!! and thank you for introducing me to that song :)

The waiting wasn’t the worst part. That belonged to the stretches where you were left in the dark, unaware of when you’d see them again. Lost in a cycle.

Uncertainty. Anticipation. Joy. Dread.

You were each other's home. But … isn’t home supposed to be something familiar?

That’s what you wanted, for it to be familiar. It’s neither of your faults that you live in different courts, but you craved to come home to them each day, to fall asleep in their arms, to see them more than once or twice a month at most. Each time felt like you were re-acquainting yourself with their energy and presence.

“When will I see you again?” You asked, glancing at the clock. Thirty minutes until they’d fly out. You were surprised you lasted this long without questioning them.

“We don’t know,” Cassian looked apologetic. Trying your best to give him an understanding smile, you failed miserably - the tear gathering in the corner of your eyes betraying you. Of course, he noticed, and tugged you into his arms, into the warm embrace you craved so much. “I’m sorry,” he kissed your hair.

Letters could be intercepted, codes could be cracked, and if they were spotted with you too frequently, if word got to the wrong people - it would put a target on your back. Despite everything, they were worth it.

The familiar sound of footsteps crunching on the snow, and you flung the door open, the harsh winter breeze flying over you, snow pelting your skin - but you didn’t care. The dilemma of earlier was forgotten as two winged figures closed the distance, shielding you from the elements. Cassian slid his arms around your chest, lifting you off the ground and spinning you into the warmth.

Laughter bubbling, head spinning, you squeezed your arms tightly around his neck, pressing kisses wherever you could reach. He had to bend down as your feet hit solid ground. If he hadn’t held onto you, you probably would’ve fallen right on your ass.

Hands slid up your body to cup your face, and cold, slightly chapped lips pressed against your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, and were warm by the time they finally met yours. A few seconds passed, and shadows pushed the two of you apart.

“No patience,” you chided as Azriel slid between the two of you, wrapping his own arms around you - your feet thankfully on the ground.

Calmer, but he held you just as tightly, kissed you with the same sense of longing, before the standard lecture came. At this point, it was a routine - maybe even a ritual.

“We could’ve been anyone.”

“Intruders wouldn’t have been so obvious,” you countered, grinning.

Azriel glanced at the ceiling, like he was uttering a short prayer to the mother.

“Dramatic,” you muttered.

Reaching up to tilt his head back down, hazel eyes littered with amusement and exasperation stared back at you.

“He’s right,” Cassian added.

Azriel looked too smug, and maybe that’s why his shadows didn’t stop you from flicking his nose.

Ducking out of his arms, you sprinted towards the kitchen, hand gripping the doorframe to whirl yourself around the corner, lips pressed tightly to hide laughter at Cassian’s snort and teasing in the background.

Most likely, he let you past his defenses and out of his hold, but you’d take the win. Grabbing the small basket of muffins you’d bought in anticipation, having a good feeling about tonight, you slid them across the kitchen table.

Sneaking a glance at the clock, you debated asking how long it would be this time. Refocusing your attention on the doorway, you studied them as they walked through.

Relaxed shoulders, light in their eyes, and half smiles on their lips, you decided to hold off.

Ruining this momentary peace wouldn’t be worth it. If you leaned into it enough, lost yourself enough, you almost believed you could make it last forever.

#cazriel x reader #cazriel x y/n #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #acotar drabble #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x y/n x azriel #azriel x cassian x y/n #azriel x y/n x cassian #azriel x reader x cassian #cassian x azriel #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader x azriel #azriel x y/n #acotar imagine

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alottiegoingon · 9 days

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love letters part II

shauna shipman x fem!reader

summary: the one where reader finds the truth about shauna's feelings.

warnings: r dates jeff, jealousy, homoerotic friendship, shauna is reader's best friend, no crash, shauna doesn't know how to talk about her feelings, angsty first, short but with a happy ending cause i dont wanna get murdered, not proofread

this is the second part of a fic i wrote weeks ago that can be found here

you came to the conclusion that refraining yourself from speaking to shauna for a few days couldn't be so difficult. there were plenty of other people to talk in wiskayok high after all.

of course, these people weren't shauna. they didn't wear flannels or either would bring your favorite ice cream flavor after school to feast on while watching a dumb movie or to use it as a background for your incessant conversation.

you would be just fine. you had jeff, your boyfriend.

"you are doing much better without her, babe." jeff was impatiently waiting for you to grab your books from your locker to put his hands on you, as if you were a important prize to show others. you thought it was cute the first time it happened, when he was so anxious to have his dirty hands on your waist to show his new possession. now it just pissed you off.

"look. i know she was your friend," jeff stops walking, not satisfied with your silence and feeling even worse about you not agreeing with him. "but that chick was hella weird. we have classes together and to this day, i don't even know the sound of her voice." he seems to finds his own way of talking about your best friend amusing as he snorts to himself.

he's too entertained to notice you looking at him dead in the eyes. yes, shauna was quiet and she didn't talk much but because she was observant. loud and clear, shana had called you desperate for attention two days ago. if anyone had the right to talk shit about her, this someone was you.

"come on, don't be so serious. it was a joke!" jeff hurriedly defends himself as you storm off, the sound of the locker door slamming reverberating in the corridor. "are you still coming to the party tonight?" his voice draws attention from other students passing through the hallway.

your dilemma on how to ignore shauna was quickly resolved, though not exactly in the way you anticipated. escaping from jeff's presence, the world around you seemed to halt as you caught sight of Shauna walking in the opposite direction. clad in her signature flannels, her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail, her doe eyes were even more prominent.

meanwhile, as the world around you seemed to freeze in time, you thought about waving or greeting her with a faint smile. despite the exchange of heated words between you two, fueled by anger, you knew deep down none of it was genuine. none of that was real. she was still your best friend.

the time was up and you had to do something but she was faster and chose for the both of you. shauna did nothing. she ignored you. abruptly breaking the eye contact as fast as she could as if you were some kind of deathly disease.

things didn’t get any better after that.

you met her again when leaving the bathroom after lunch. getting out of the stall, you were petrified to see her right in front of you washing her hands. you knew she had seen you through the mirror thanks to the way she quickly looked away and never bothered to face the mirror again.

it took you a minute to realize that she wasn’t worried or upset. she was her casual self, calm and composed while you were overthinking every step of her. washing your hands by her side, you try to initiate at least a small interaction, facing her with the corner of your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice.

you see her drying her hands and getting ready to leave the bathroom, so you quickly wipe your wet hands on your pants to follow her.

“hi, shauna, can we-“ you mutter quietly as you reach for her wrist, but she’s quicker, and in an instant, she darts out, leaving the door to close in your face.

off to a good start.

[💌]

it wasn’t until when you saw yourself wearing more pink clothes than usual because jeff wanted you to look like the stereotypical feminine standard, or reading less because you spent too much time lost in your imagination, that you found out that shauna was right.

you had changed. and worse, for a guy.

you would never put your favorite book aside just because your boyfriend told you so or find new movies to like because the ones you liked were too “manly”.

you couldn't escape the vision of shauna laughing and jeering in your mind. she had tried to warn you, but your defensive response only made things worse, and the worry of ruining your friendship with her kept you up at night

[💌]

“no, babe, hear me out.” jeff has his arm around you hanging over your shoulder and mouth full of french fries with eyes glued on tv, barely making any sense out of his words. “you gotta get rid of it. it’s pointless to keep this, shauna doesn’t care anymore.”

you thought you liked jeff for many reasons. he was good with his words, even though the letters stopped coming, he was decent at football, treated you well, even if not paying attention to everything you said, and your parents liked him. but you didn’t like him for his empathy.

jeff had given you a ride after school and bought food for you. now, sitting in the couch, he was doing an awful job at pretending to listen to you talk about how badly you missed your best friend. you mentioned that shauna was the one who gave you an adorable stuffed bear for your birthday three years ago, the one you were always holding onto lately, when you were obsessed with watching nature documentaries.

“i can’t get rid of it, jeff. it’s cruel.” you roll your eyes, irritated at his idea of solving problems.

“it’s just a plushie for babies. i can give you a new one.”

disregarding the sound of your boyfriend's voice, now more irritating than ever, you dash from the couch with the stuffed bear in hands. finally emerging from his TV daze, he gazes up at you, his brows knit in confusion.

“you’re not liking the movie?” jeff asks, oblivious of the thing that was actually making you go crazy. you couldn’t care any less about the movie when shauna was mad.

“i’m going to shauna’s. i need to tell her that i’m sorry.”

“what? now? i just got here.” jeff eyes widen and you notice how he looks like he’s panicking over your words.

“great. so you know the way out, right?”

[💌]

when you knocked on the door, shauna's mom greeted you with a big smile and let you in. no questions asked. this made you think that shauna hadn't spoken to her parents yet and you didn't expect her to, anyway. she rarely shared her feelings with anyone who wasn't constantly reassuring her.

what truly caught you off guard was her absence. you'd understand if it were a friday night, but on a school day? what if she'd made new friends? found a new best friend? a boyfriend or girlfriend? it didn't matter to you. shauna wasn't yours to control. you weren't upset in the slightest. even if the physical pain in your chest, as if your heart was being crushed, was undeniably there.

you knew the way to the attic. her bedroom looked just as it always did. the large 'reality bites' poster still dominated the wall, a messy pile of books lay on her bed, and clothes were draped over the small armchair near her bed. the only noticeable difference was the stack of new notebooks on her shelf.

as you headed towards her bed to wait for her, you tripped over a cardboard box that clearly wasn't there before; you knew her room inside out. cursing under your breath, you dragged the box closer to the bed and sat down to see what was inside.

inside the box were numerous papers and envelopes. you plunged your hand into the mess and picked one out, curiosity piqued. your brow furrowed as you recognized the content from past letters you had received. you grabbed another, and then another. each was handwritten by shauna, with a space left blank for a signature.

jeff's signature.

panic sets in. your heart skips a beat. soon, shauna's bed was covered in a sea of letters that you've desperately read. everything clicked into place. jeff's name didn't match the rest of the handwriting because he wasn't the author. your best friend was.

"what are you doing?" shauna's familiar voice echoed in the room, pulling your gaze to her figure at the door. she didn't have the same unbothered demeanor as she did at school; now, she appeared frightened. her attempt at a low, threatening tone faltered, and all you could see was a scared looking kid in her eyes.

"what is this?" you countered, holding a piece of paper between your fingers as you rose from her bed. extending it toward shauna, you expected her to defend herself, but she remained unfazed. she didn't even need to look; she knew exactly what it was.

"It's nothing," she said sharply, swiping the letter from your fingers without bothering to look at it. "this is private. since when do you think it's okay to snoop through my belongings without asking?"

"since when it's okay for you to lie to me?" silence. she doesn't say a word.

"you acted so weirdly when i told you about jeff and i thought you were just jealous but you already knew about them cause you wrote all of this!"

"no, i..." her voice dwindled, grappling for words. you observed her eyes soften and become watery, yet somehow, there was still a lingering anger buried in there.

"what? you thought it would be fun to mock me? i thought we were friends!"

"we are! it's complicated you don't understand!"

"and whose fault is that?" your voice, previously charged with annoyance, gradually regains its usual composure as memories of the last heated argument flood back. you had come here to mend things, but how exactly were you supposed to do that now?

"jeff asked me to help him. he didn't know how to talk to you and we had a class in common and-"

"oh my god, shauna!" you groaned, hands instinctively rising to cover your eyes briefly in frustration. "and you just decided everything for me? like i was some type of character in your journal that you could decide its faith?"

"I had to! do you know how incredibly annoying it is to think about you every single day?" it was her turn to raise her voice now. her expression was a tumult of emotions—anger, sadness, desperation, fear. her face flushed with emotion, nostrils flared and cheeks tinged red. "maybe if you had a boyfriend, everything would stop!" she yelled, finally releasing her pent-up feelings.

her words brought you to a halt. there was nothing left to say. your expression of disappointment turned into an empty canvas, nothing but a void where words failed to form, and, for shauna, this was worse than seeing you sad. she couldn't read you.

"what do you mean?"

"you still don't get it, do you?" shauna's sigh was heavy as she approached, flinging the letter onto the bed. "why do you think i wrote all that? i couldn't stand the idea of jeff's disgusting hands all over you, but it was the only way i could make this horrible feeling to stop!" her voice cracked, a mix of whining and huskiness, tears trailing down her cheeks. it was hard to discern whether it was anger, sadness, or perhaps even relief.

"shauna..." your voice came out in a soft murmur, barely audible. "do you-"

"have feelings for you?" she cut in, taking a deep, shaky breath amidst her tears. "do you usually write love letters for your friends if you don't have feelings for them?"

with her words preempting any possible questions, a bunch of thoughts raced through your mind in the span of a single heartbeat. shauna had feelings for you and she wasn't the only one. the ache of separation even during just a week without talking, the tender and way too friendly gestures like legs entwined while watching movies, how she truly adored you, evident in the small details like bringing you your favorite ice cream even if she hated it, were insignificant to some but meant everything to you.

despite all odds and against shauna's every expectation, you seize her by the collar of her flannel shirt, drawing her closer until your foreheads touch. "don't you ever make me kiss jeff again just so you can hide your feelings and avoid me," you whisper, your gaze shifting between her dark eyes and rosy lips.

setting aside her initial shock, shauna's hands, shaky and unsure, eventually settle on your waist, holding you close as if afraid you might slip away. "it's a deal. was it that bad?" she giggles through tears and the quite silly and adorable view makes you smile.

with one hand firmly gripping her shirt to keep her close, you use the other to gently reach up to her face, wiping a tear from her cheek with your thumb. "you really have no idea," you chuckle softly before closing the gap between you entirely and pressing your lips against hers.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #im a jeff hater

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flowerandblood · 9 months

Text

The Impossible Choice

Correspondence between Aemond and Daeron

Letters exchanged between Daeron and Aemond from before his arrival in Storm's End to Aemond's letter asking him to come and join the war. This is an additional chapter to The Impossible Choice series. The timing is based on when Aemond received Daeron's letter and when he wrote his reply to him. Beware the spoilers.

Daeron Three days before Aemond arrived in Storm's End

Brother, thank you for your extensive letter. I would be happy to review the books you mentioned, and I will also send you some positions I read recently in the Citadel. They are very interesting musings by Maester Harwin Arryn on the origin and history of dragons. I understand your concerns and frustrations about choosing a future wife, however, I hope you will approach this matter gently. It is not your scars that may frighten these women, but your cool approach. Please convey to my nephews, siblings, mother and father my warm greetings and expressions of longing. Daeron −

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Aemond One day before he arrived in Storm's End

Brother, thank you for the books you sent me. Indeed, Maester Arryn's reflections on the origins of dragons are extremely interesting and throw new insights into the subject. I devoured this book in one day. As for your reflections on my future wife, as you know, to my frustration, Lord Borros' daughters have already shown me at the nuptials of Aegon and Helaena how little they have in their heads. They are desperate. And can there be anything worse than a desperate woman? In addition, Lord Borros hides his fifth daughter from me, or it is she who shows no interest in the fact that she could become the prince's wife. The choice between desperate women and a girl I am indifferent to seems demeaning and beneath my dignity. Nevertheless, I will do my duty. Aemond −

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Daeron Two days after Aemond arrived in Storm's End

Dear brother, I understand your dilemma and I guess that by the time my letter reaches you you will already be after your visit in Storm's End. I hope that everything goes well and I ask you to inform me of your decision. Daeron −

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Aemond Three days after he arrived in Storm's End

Brother, my visit in Storm's End was, how shall I put it, entertaining. Lord Borros thought he could pretend to me that he only had four daughters. I don't understand why he thought he would succeed in making a fool of me, but he has learned his lesson. I took from him his youngest child, his beloved treasure. She will become my wife. I guess you will want to understand my choice and what drove me, however, I am not sure I can explain it. Aemond −

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Daeron Week after Aemond arrived in Storm's End

Brother, Your words fill me with anxiety. Remember that whatever pain and grief fills your heart, this girl knows nothing about it. If you crush her, there will be nothing left of her. In King's Landing she will have no one but you. I would very much like your marriage to bring you joy, not disappointment. Always devoted to you, Daeron −

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Aemond Week after he arrived in Storm's End

Brother, I wish to reassure you. I have no intention of harming her, of course, if she shows me the devotion, respect and obedience due to me. I also have no intention of humiliating her. Our mother sent away the servants who warmed my bed with my consent. I do not wish her to think, as my wife, that her honour is unimportant to me. Our mother has decided that in a week's time my future wife will arrive in King's Landing to acclimatise. Also devoted to you Aemond −

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Daeron Two days before she arrived in Kings Landing

Brother, I welcome your words and our mother's decision with relief. I hope that your betrothed, upon her arrival in King's Landing, will meet all your expectations. Do not be overly strict with her. I am also sending you a list of books that I have recently read and think are worthy of recommendation: The Last Days of Maegor I the Cruel, Anonymous Gods of Old Valyria; Rites and beliefs, Maester Monas Always devoted to you, Daeron −

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Aemond Four days after she arrived in Kings Landing

Brother, thank you for recommending these books. I spent my afternoon in the library today reading The Last Days of Maegor I the Cruel. I met my betrothed there, who freezes at the sight of me. I have to admit that, despite her submissive nature, she is not what I assumed. She's direct and doesn't use the overbearing curtness that ladies of the court are famous for. I take this to be her virtue, as I don't have to guess what she has on her mind. Besides, in King's Landing, unlike the attire she was wearing when I first saw her, she wears gowns in cuts I haven't seen before, with buff sleeves with her chemise sticking out from underneath. I'm assuming it's a garment from her homeland, as she only wears the colours of the Baratheons. To my contentment, since arriving in the Red Keep she has begun combing her hair into exquisite braids, a pleasure to my eye and her wordless sign of respect for our heritage. I have noticed that she has befriended Helaena, however, she does not socialise with the other ladies of the court, which I recognise as an evidence of her wisdom. I sincerely hope you will be able to attend our nuptials. Aemond −

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Daeron Three days before nuptials in the Great Sept

Dear Brother, from the words you have included in your letter, it seems that so far you are satisfied with your choice, which pleases me very much. I hope that your future wife and you will slowly grow closer to each other and find an understanding. Unfortunately, duties in the Citadel will not allow me to come to your nuptials and I write of this with great pain. However, I know that you, my brother, know and understand best what duty is and that you will comprehend my difficult position. I hope that you will forgive me and that you will keep me informed about how the whole ceremony went. Daeron −

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Aemond Morning after nuptials in the Great Sept

Brother, Your absence filled my heart with sadness on the day of my nuptials. As you know, being in the eye of the crowds makes me feel frustration and uncertainty, which only intensified throughout the ceremony. My wife endured it better than I did. I feared that our wedding night would make her cry and despair, however, nothing of the sort happened. She showed me respect and trust, which I tried to reciprocate. The presence of a stranger in my bed is odd and troublesome, however, I suspect I will get used to the change. With the blessing of the gods, my wife will soon give me an offspring and extend my lineage. Always devoted to you Aemond −

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Daeron Five days after nuptials in the Great Sept

Brother, I also suffer from the fact that I was not able to be with you at your nuptials and meet your wife. However, I am very rejoiced by what you write about and my general feeling that your wife pleases you. Please tell our mother that in a few days she should receive a gift from me on the occasion of her name day, a beautiful prayer book made especially for her on my recommendation. Daeron −

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Aemond Six days after nuptials in the Great Sept

Brother, I must share with you an embarrassing anecdote concerning one of my wife's sisters. Before her family left, she came to my chamber in the evening, wanting to warm my bed. She was met with my violent response and I left it to my wife to decide what to do with her. My wife, however, took advantage of my condition and the fact that I had drunk several cups of wine. I allowed her to stay in my chamber for the night at her request, and she failed my trust by drawing words and reactions out of me for which I am ashamed. I decided to punish her by pushing her away until it become clear whether she is already expecting my child. In addition, our mother will, in a separate letter, convey her appreciation and thanks to you for your gift. The excellence of the workmanship and the illustrations and decorations of the prayer book are extremely beautiful and our mother is touched. Aemond −

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Daeron Two weeks after nuptials in the Great Sept

Brother, your words have worried me incredibly. I ask you not to act rashly. A wife's responsibility is to support her husband, and a husband should not separate himself from his wife with a wall. I hope and wish that you live to see your offspring as soon as possible. Daeron −

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Aemond Three weeks after nuptials in the Great Sept

Brother, I wish to reassure you. My wife and I have come to an agreement. On the advice of you, Ser Criston and my mother, I have decided to let my wife get closer to me. I decided that this would happen if she helped me with my daily routine instead of my servants. I expected her to feel humiliated by being put in such a role, but she seems content, so I have no reason to complain either. She carries out her tasks with a dedication and diligence I have not yet seen in any of my maids, nor does she pester me with conversation and gossip, so our time together is filled with peace and quiet. She has taken a special interest in the books you send me and has recently begun to read through a book on the Gods of Old Valyria. I notice in her a genuine interest in our heritage which pleases me. I am considering introducing her to the language of Old Valyria if she so wishes. Aemond −

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Daeron One week before Vaemond Velaryon arrived in Kings Landing

Brother, Your words fill me with joy. We both know how much you have suffered in the past and all I want is for you to find the peace and fulfilment in your marriage that you deserve. Forgive me for taking so long to reply, however, I have been unwell and have been in bed over the last few days, unable to move or think. I suspect that it is a simple fatigue, however, I ask that you do not worry our mother for the time being and do not tell her about this. Daeron −

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Aemond Five days before Vaemond Velaryon arrived in Kings Landing

Brother, the news of your condition has worried me greatly. However, I know that you are surrounded by the most outstanding maesters in the world and I believe that they are giving you the care that you need. Please keep me informed of your state of health. I must also inform you of an interesting piece of information that has reached the Red Keep. Namely, Vaemond Velaryon is challenging Luke's rights to inherit the Driftmark. Strong boy got into a little trouble. Our whore-sister and her family will be arriving in King's Landing with Vaemond within the next few days. Despite my attempts, I find it increasingly difficult to hide the darkness of my heart and my advancing madness from my wife. Aemond −

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Daeron One day before Vaemond Velaryon arrived in Kings Landing

Brother, I am recovering and getting back to strength. Your letter, however, has deeply disturbed me and I implore you to keep your anger and grief in control for the sake of our family and our mother, who cannot bear any more suffering, and also for the sake of your wife. Daeron −

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Aemond Two days after Vaemond Velaryon arrived in Kings Landing

Brother, I am writing to you this time at the request of our mother. Our father the King passed away two days ago in his sleep. According to our mother, his last will, which he confessed to her on his deathbed, was that our brother Aegon should sit on the Iron Throne. Yesterday he was crowned in front of me, my wife and the entire court in the Great Sept. Our brother wishes you to pay him tribute as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms as soon as possible and awaits your letter to that effect. Aemond −

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Daeron One day before Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, is this true? Has our father truly changed his mind? Does this mean war? I desire nothing more than to return to the Red Keep immediately to support you. Tell me, what should I do? Your devoted brother, Daeron −

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Aemond One day before Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, do not return to the Red Keep. Stay in the Citadel. Our brother is sending me to Harrenhal against my requests to crush the Lords' uprising there, and he won't let me take my wife with me. I fear he has completely lost his mind. Send all your letters to Harrenhal and do not share what you know with anyone. Aemond −

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Daeron Three days after Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, in accordance with your will, I am sending a letter to Harrenhal and hope it reaches your hands. Mother has written to me about the uprising and the fact that Lord Strong is dead. What will happen now? What do you intend to do? Daeron −

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Aemond Six days after Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, I'm afraid I'm sinking into increasing madness. The battles are prolonged, the warriors of the Northern Lords come out of the woods like rats at night, and no matter how many times I burn them, they return. Nor can I bear the thought that before my travel for Harrenhal I said words to my wife that I regret and am ashamed of. I left her a letter to which I received no reply. I fear that she has seen what I am and has lost hope that I can be saved. Without her by my side I collapse under the weight of my own darkness, the fire of Vhagar burning everything around me, including myself. I fight the recurring thought to beg her in a letter to come to Harrenhal in the middle of the war just to be by my side. It scares me how selfish I am, brother. Aemond −

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Daeron Ten days after Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, Your letter filled me with sadness and despair. I beg you not to give in to the darkness and doubt that surrounds your heart. I am sure that your wife understands your suffering and will certainly forgive you. However, is it wise to bring her to Harrenhal, will she be safe there? Please keep me informed of how things are progressing and remember that I am at your and my brother-king's every call. Daeron −

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Aemond Two weeks after Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, against your advice, in a gesture of despair, I sent a letter to my wife and she, to my relief, came and joined me. She fled the Red Keep for me. She forgave me. Now that I have her by my side again I feel that I have regained my senses and I hope that, with the blessing of the gods, the matter of the whole uprising will soon come to an end. Aemond −

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Aemond Two weeks after Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, I am not sure which time I am starting to write you this letter. I am ashamed because you warned me and I disobeyed you. The gods have finally punished me for my envy, selfishness and vanity. They punished me in the most cruel way, making me watch my uncle's dragon fire burn the body of my innocent wife. A small part of her body suffered, and I try to console myself with the thought. She was saved by the Witch of Harrenhal, who treated her wounds in time, however I know I will never get her affection or her warm gaze back. How would I live on without her gentle touch that soothed my nerves, brother? How would I live on without her soft body by my side, without her understanding gaze, without her reassuring words of comfort? I was dead before I married her, and I feel as if I should die again.

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Daeron Three weeks after Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, what happened? Uncle Daemon attacked Harrenhal? What is happening now? I beg you to calm down − I am sure that you and your wife will find comfort together in this terrible and distressing situation that has befallen her. I wait impatiently for your answer and your orders. Daeron −

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Aemond Three weeks after Aemond was sent to Harrenhal

Brother, join me in Harrenhal and support me. Aemond −

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problem-of-ros · 10 days

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im trying to pinpoint how mysterious lotus casebook gets to you because what happened to me was that i watched it in maybe 10 days and i thought i was fine. i thought for a full 24 hours after finishing it that it was a pretty enjoyable and well-made show with a poetic ending that nonetheless didn’t have a lasting impact on me. this was a month ago and ill probably never be normal again but my point is. not even watching it prepared me for how good it was. and i think it’s because mlc takes itself lightly, in a mid-budget sillyserious manner. it’s not wearing its prestige tv outfit, it’s wearing sweatpants and a graphic tshirt with a meme on it. but why is it that compelling then!!! and i think my answer is that mlc is an anti-story. to me!! this is not intended as meta im just journaling. walking up and down clutching my head and typing. so <<there are two quite different emotions: […] the heart-racking sense of the vanished […] ; and the other the more ‘ordinary’ emotion, triumph, pathos, tragedy of the characters […] forced on me by the fundamental literary dilemma: A story must be told or there will be no story, yet it is the untold stories that are the most moving.>> says old john ronald. this is the asylum they raised me in or whatever kids say nowdays. and here’s another one, a poem that is very very li lianhuacore but i have to translate it to english fml. the title is they say or people say. << i was born with knife in hand— / people say this is a poem. / surely the knife wasn’t enough, that’s why he grabbed the pen / [but] i was [simply] born human.” etc etc there is an insane dog motive line that’s sadly irrelevant to the point im trying to make etc last verse: “i am sealed by dirt [soil] and eroded [crumbled] by the sea— / people say i’ll die, / but I stay silent. / you hear all manner of things all the time.” thank you józsef attila sorry józsef attila. translating this took audacity. what i MEAN is that beyond the metanarrative pun that is a string of murder mysteries leading the detective to the realisation that his own death ten years earlier was actually a mysterious murder (which is already pretty elegant imo) . but beyond that, the complete plot and the whole show itself is a cover story for li lianhua’s private little suicide narrative that we know nothing about. and i want to be very clear llh isn’t fabricating the cover story purposefully, unreliable narrator style. he isn’t narrating shit. mlc doesn’t have a narrator. closest thing is actually fang duobing, as we the viewers are trying to get to know llh through him— except, unlike fdb, we have just enough additional information to understand that he is NOT getting any closer. he cannot. people smarter than me have said that llh is mother; he surely is unknowable like one. the closer you are to someone the worse the blind spots feel. if zhiji can be (as i understand) something like ‘knowing myself is knowing you’ then maybe having a mother is sometimes like ‘understanding myself is understanding you, but always a decade too late’. for me, fanghua is a synthesis of these two things. fdb either knows but doesn’t understand or understands but doesn’t know. same logic as the infamous masks. you stand on the shore with a letter adressed to you but not written for you and you know nothing, fang xiaobao. i haven’t fully seen GoT but this is how i imagine that line. but for someone with fdb’s brain and soul, not understanding is everything. let me rephrase, not understanding is sexy. in fact i’d argue that what makes lxy/llh irresistible for every tastehaver that ever fell for him is that he is shrouded in mystery. like a bride and like the dead. and ironically, dead brides with their shorter and prettier semi-transparent veils are but a frivolous subcategory of sheet ghost. goodbye

also not to quote contrapoints, but the lover(detective)-barrier(mystery)-beloved(truth) triangle. fanghua is all about yearning and anticipation and it’s a tension that never breaks. the resolution is beyond death (plot) beyond the end of the story (narrative) beyond the barrier — which is the story itself (metanarrative). it points us to an unanswerable question, and that is its depth. and that is what i love: cover stories that let me palpate something vanished and silent

#(teeth clattering) i need to read the book…#LONG POST #mlc

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muffinsin · 5 months

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Can you do Bela with a s/o thats very romantic but like theyre not gonna be like "only the best for my girl" with a rose between their teeth and a cheesy grin on their face but instead theyll do the cheesiest shit while bela js looks up half expecting the s/o to be js mocking her atp but theyre just.. deathly serious

(Sorry for my weird wording but i dont know how to use english grammar and im new on here)

Sure thing! Hoping I’ve understood it right! :)

Let’s get into it!

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Bela hasn’t experienced true romance before

Sure, there have been relationships in the past. As much is to be expected from a vampire-like being

Yet, romance itself is a strange and foreign concept to her, that mainly reminds her of her youngest sister’s choice of books

Every time she thinks of Daniela’s stories of princes sweeping their princesses off their feet, she rolls her eyes and mentally face palms herself

There is simply no place for romance in her life, she figures

That is, until she is with you

At first Bela is unsure whether you’re mocking her, or perhaps pulling her leg

Oftentimes she wakes up to notes on her bedside table from you, adorned with hearts and wishing her a good day, other times it’s poems or small lines. At other times again she finds the note containing praise and appreciation for her

She keeps all those notes, yet can’t help but feel as though you’re pulling her leg. What’s the meaning of the notes?

Then, sometimes, she finds herself staring at you in shock upon discovering you’ve drawn her a bath after a long day, yet out of the blue

She appreciates it a lot, and yet always stares at you wide eyed and in surprise at the dim light and candles set up in the bathroom

She especially loves it as you massage her in the bath. It feels so good

She can’t help but wonder why, though

At one point she is worried you’re dying- or perhaps assume that she is. The idea is silly to you, which makes her blush as you tell her so

Her golden eyes stare at you in disbelief when one day you walk up to her, out of the blue, and press a bouquet of flowers in her gloved, bloody hands

She looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights. Are you mocking her? No, yes, perhaps? She isn’t sure. Your behavior is so…odd. Yet it makes her chest flutter

Bela is left dumbfounded when you only peck her cheek lightly, stating that you had seen the roses at the Duke’s shop and thought their rich, red color reminded you of her

The day after she decides she must confront you. What are you doing?

…

Instead, the blonde finds herself blushing and tucked against your side as you read

She smiles whenever you turn the page and immediately remove one of your hands from the book to stroke her hair instead

It feels comforting and so lovely, Bela almost forgets her original plan

“Why are you doing all those things?”, she asks, perhaps a little too harsh judged by your wide eyes

She sighs. She didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Then, she tries again, calmer

“The flowers and notes and letters and baths and massages and breakfast in bed and taking me to the gardens- why?”

You stare at her, as if confused what she means

“What do you mean, why?”

Bela is caught off guard now. Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because I love you”, you add, then, as if sensing her dilemma

She frowns in confusion, and eyes you as you guide her back towards your chest, tucking her head just below yours

She hears your heartbeat, fast and loud. Excited, or perhaps nervous?

Her question is answered when you kiss the top of your head and explain your thoughts on romance to her. She listens, her fingers playing with a loose string of her sleeve

When you finish, you’re rewarded with a sweet, thankful kiss against your lips

Upon understanding, she feels foolish for believing you would mock and tease her

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village

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yanpotatowriter · 1 year

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Hi so csn you do yandere wednesday x gn reader please thank you

Wednesday is a heavy stalker and when she is occupied with something else she will send thing to stalk you instead, she wants to know anything and everything about her obsession even if it seems irrelevant or not important enough to remember. She also has a notebook that is full of discoveries she made off her obsession, like what their favourite colour is, how they react to their peers and stuff like that. She will torture her rivals without hesitation or mercy, she won’t allow anyone to stand in the way between her and her lover and finds anyone who thinks that they can do just that pathetic and a waste of air and space. She will openly admit to stalking her obsession when confronted with the fact but will also say that she won’t stop, she doesn’t get what is wrong with it.

Will kidnap her obsession eventually in order to make sure that they truly love her. Will force her obsession to come with her whenever she is investigating something, although she knows it is dangerous she also knows that trauma bonding can really help a relationship. If her obsession comes to her with a dilemma or mentions that people are harassing her, she will go after them with full force and no hesitation. She will kill for her obsession and she would be happy about it too. She tells her family about her obsession whenever she talks to them, or she sends them a letter with what her obsession has been up to since she last talked to her family, she will also say that her obsession is only hers to torture, kill and manipulate but that she would not mind if they decide to accept her as part of the family as she will marry her obsession later down the line even if her obsession doesn’t know it yet. She also does not care about her obsessions gender or sexuality (none of the yanderes do tbh, unless their sexuality makes them unable to date, but that's where Platonic yanderes kick in instead) and will respect her obsessions pronouns and all and will maim anyone who does not, a mistake she can forgive, ignorance she cannot.

#yandere wednesday #yandere wednesday addams #yandere wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams headcanons #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday characters x reader #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons

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cloudywriting05 · 5 months

Text

don’t delete the kisses

chapter one.

“Corroborating with the previous sources, it’s evident that the Capitol’s victory was necessary and the biggest step Panem has taken to a brighter future. Thank you.”

The class erupted into a weak applause. Clemensia smiled cunningly, swiftly gathering her notes from the pod, and strutting up to her seat in the second row. What a stupid girl, Coriolanus thought to himself while slowly clapping. Her conclusion was feeble and predictable, not stable enough for a convincing argument nor strong enough to get the point truly across. Times like these he is not surprised she begs him for academic assistance, with a little favour of course. The truth was there was not one person on the face of this earth that Coriolanus truly cared about, not a singular one. He did not believe that love was real and had more of a placebo theory. One convinces themselves that the person they find attractive for their outer appearance is the one for them. They spend months pining after them, creating ideas in their own head in the meanwhile, consuming media that depicts ‘love’ for hours, and media that tells them it exists; it just simply does not.

At least he has never felt it. He cared about people. He had attraction towards a few girls, fucking a lot of them, but never once truly felt love for them. It just simply wasn’t something he’d experienced in his eighteen years of life. Not once. Not ever. At one point, he believed something was wrong with him. He would finish in a girl’s mouth and send her home. She then would send him a letter reading ‘your amazing x’, and all Coriolanus would acknowledge is how she has a grammatical era; it’s you’re. If you’re going to spell it wrong, get rid of the kisses at the end and save yourself the embarrassment, he would think.

He sat there, twiddling with his pen lost in his own thoughts. The thoughts being what would he eat for dinner if he finishes all his lunch? Nothing. His dilemma abruptly interrupted by Dr Gaul announcing her presence from the back for the room. Startled, Coriolanus along with his other peers remain silent. Coriolanus often wondered if she was not a staff member, why she didn’t situate her laboratory elsewhere, somewhere far away from the Academy.

“Hello everyone, I take you are quite busy due to assignments, presentations and exams being due within the next couple of weeks,” she began, her frizzy hair almost moving along with her words, “I hope you’re taking your studies seriously. Average is simply not accepted. I am here to notify you we have a new student, someone of reputable background and new to the Capitol. Her IQ is recorded as one of the highest in the entirety of Panem within the last forty years, please treat her accordingly.”

Highest in the whole of Panem? Within the last forty years? This was including both Coriolanus and Sejanus’s fathers. All their fathers and mothers. Even before the dark days? A girl? This wasn’t possible, Coriolanus thought to himself. Already seething in his seat at the announcement of her arrival. Why was no one else’s announcement announced? What made this girl so different? Coriolanus pondered, his jealousy seeping. The entire class watched as Dr Gaul walked towards the door and opened it slightly, peeking her head outside and mumbling something.

“Here she is. Everyone, welcome her.” Dr Gaul urged. The entire class remained silent, waiting for her to walk through the door.

Coriolanus eagerly glared at the door. A girl entered the room, her head held high. The feeling of irritation instantly leaving his body, now replaced by astonishment. His body heat up, heartbeat raising at the mere sight of this girl. She stood self-assuredly at the top of the stairs, her smile was there for a moment, and then gone. Coriolanus looked around the room desperately, praying someone would make her smile again, anyone. He desperately wanted to see it again. She was a district girl before, who was now rich? And she looked the way she did? In the districts? How was it possible she got out alive without being kidnapped or harmed for being appealing as she was? Coriolanus questioned; bewildered.

Her hair was dark and curly, falling past her shoulders. Her skin was like what Coriolanus could only describe as a penny; bronze, warm, like she’d been outside actively. Nobody in the Capitol looked like that, nobody. Her smile was bright as well, not like other District pests. Her eyes were striking, alluring, dark. Coriolanus, abnormally nervous, observed as she scanned the room. Silently admitting to himself she was exasperatingly gorgeous. The uniform sat on her astonishingly well, it looked tailored, her figure seeping out of the unappealing pieces of cloth. Coriolanus snapped his head towards the sound of his male peers in the row ahead of him eagerly tapping each other’s elbows, indicating that he was not the only person taken aback by her appearance. Aggravating him vastly.

She spoke after standing for a while, “Hi, everyone. I feel as though Dr Gaul here has given me a great introduction, but I hope I don't have to remind anyone that my academic achievements don't define who I am as a person. What I love, or what I believe. So, there’s no need to be shy, talk to me. I’m not stuck up, I promise.”

With that Coriolanus was seething once again. She was more articulate than him although she grew up in the districts. How does it make any sense? She is prettier, smarter, and more confident than any he’d ever come across in the Capitol. Her voice was awfully delicate too, her accent was distinct. District 2? Coriolanus was bewildered by the situation, but still, he took the opportunity to stare at her for as long as he could, it was the only time he’d get away with doing so. He sat in his chair wondering how he could ever graduate on top if she was here.

She was gorgeous and intelligent with an aura that could make anyone weak. How could he land on top if she existed? He needed her out. Immediately.

#the hunger games #tbosas #coriolanus x oc #young coriolanus snow #ballads of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow

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bangsinc · 1 year

Text

🖤 Dot by Dot, Heart to Heart - Chapter One ⚪️

Hi everyone! So, this is my first fanfic. Ever, lol. I mean ever that I was confident enough to post. Credit to @trenchcoatbees for the wonderful idea! And thank you to @indago-snake for tagging me! So, this is going to be run by chapters, and I might upload it on Ao3. cool, right? Just gotta wait.

Enjoy! I hope the read more thing works

The Brooklyn streets came alive with the vibrant rhythm of the city, each step echoing with the pulse of a thousand stories aching to be told. Many stories had finished long ago, but not this one. His pace is quickened as he adjusts the misshapen, rather unfashionable hat atop his head.

A man walks through an empty alleyway in Brooklyn, a worn-down trenchcoat clinging to his misshapen figure. He was a man of many talents, but little features, the only discernible thing about him was the holes that lined his body, which was covered by blank, canvas like skin. He walks with no purpose, although he used to. He’s not the same man, not anymore at least. And nobody remembered who he once was.. not a soul who wandered the crooked, ever-changing streets of New York City cared to learn what happened to Dr. Jonathan Ohnn..

No.. not Jonathan Ohnn.

The spot.

He’d given that name up long ago, back when he had lost everything.

He walks the streets mindlessly, hoping to come across something that might help his dilemma. A man with a power he can’t even comprehend correctly, no friends, no family, no job.. not anymore. What was once everything he knew was nothing but an unfinished story, one that ended too early.

Spot steps on something, his foot quickly dragging away from it onto the pavement. He looks down, his orifice squinting to get a better view. The figure on this paper was oddly.. familiar. Perhaps it was something that could help him, although highly unlikely. He gave up looking for things such as that.

Things that.. who.. who is this?

He picks up the paper curiously, his opposing hand brushing the dust and attempting to straighten it to its former integrity. He wasn’t sure why this called to him so much.. it, it echoed to him almost. Like a distant memory, an old friend who was calling to him. A warm feeling he wished for, a feeling he hadn’t felt since the collider.. had..

Those who pass by might only see a man who’d found something of no interest. They pass with no curiosity or solicitousness, getting on with their lives as they always had. But The spot stayed there, his grip on the paper softening. It was a photo, more specifically of him. He’d know it from anywhere, from the idiotic, carefree smile he had to the hooked nose and unkempt hair. His fingers trace upon what once was, a tinge of envy settling in his new form.

But that wasn’t what truly had caught the enigmas attention. No, it was the words below his old photo. ‘MISSING’ was written in big, bold letters. The red font had faded with age, some of the text failing to be read, but he could understand the greater picture of the narritave, and it’s that someone was truly looking for him. Someone, out there, in the big bustling city of New York, missed him.

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