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#yandere self aware au
valeriele3 · 1 year
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I want to see a Genshin Sagau/self-aware au! Where the Reader/player is actually aware the game is self-aware
Usually self-aware fics are about the player being nice and everything which makes the characters fall in love or sometimes the characters hate the reader/player bc they’re treated badly or Reader insults them. (<- ex. Reader makes fun of Fischl bc of her chuunibyou personality which results in Fischl being hurt and less confident because even the “almighty creator” is making fun of her/hates her)
What if the player/reader acts nice towards their characters? They’re sooo nice you might mistake them for an angel..
So naturally the characters will fall in love with them and grow obsessed like how it always is but what they don’t know is that the player is aware the characters are self-aware and that everything they’ve been doing and saying is all an act
The player isn’t actually as kind as an angel. No. They’re “evil”..They knew that if they acted all nice in front of the characters they’ll be in love and obsessed with the player so they put on an act
Why did they act nice? So that in the rare chance they get transported into Teyvat they will have all of the playable characters wrapped around their finger..
The player could easily manipulate the characters around and the characters wouldn’t even question the weird orders/tasks
All they know is that if their beloved creator said that this person must die then that person deserves death because how could their lovely creator wish the death of someone innocent?
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yanderes-galore · 11 months
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heyyyyy,
so i really loved your self-aware ethan winters and was hoping you could write a scenario with ethan finding a way to leave the game and darling is just wondering why is a man in the middle of the room
sending all my good vibes so you have a great day <3
sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language
Ah, sure! I'll see what I have, I never thought of continuing it so I'll try 😊 Thanks for the good vibes, your english is fine 💜 May be a bit tame, struggled a bit but did what I could for Ethan's yandere behavior!
Self-Aware! Ethan Winters Concept
Real
Yandere! Self-Aware! Ethan Winters Scenario
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Self-Aware game character, Swearing, Breaking and entering (?), Delusional behavior, Forced relationship, Poessessive themes, Cutting mention, Wounds.
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When you woke up the first thing you smelt was mold. The thought puzzled you at first. Black mold... the type of mold that develops during events like water damage.
But you never had any water damage in your home.
That was the first incident that puzzled you. The next was when you walked towards the room you kept your game system/PC in... only to be met with something stranger. A man was on his hands and knees in your house, looking bewildered.
The musky smell of mold got stronger when you got closer. When you saw the man you stayed quiet and gazed at his clothes. They were dirty... familiar.
It was like those of a video game character... Resident Evil in particular. You decide to test your luck... this must be a dream, right? Why would any of this be real?
Maybe you were smelling mold in your sleep?
"Ethan?" You find yourself saying. There was no way it actually was him, dream or not. You're stunned into silence again when the man looks up.
"You... You know my name!"
The mysterious man's tone is less of a question and more excitement. His face reminds you of the rendered models you'd seen of Ethan Winters online. Were you scared... or just confused?
"Sir... that's really your name?" You ask with hesitance, moving your hand to the pocket that holds your phone. The man sits up on his knees with an intense gaze on you.
"E-Ethan Winters."
"Like the game character?" You narrow your gaze.
"Game...?" Ethan looks around and sees your copy of Resident Evil 7/8 on the desk. He stares at it blankly for a moment before slowly nodding. "I guess so...."
"Where did you come from? How did you get in my house?"
Ethan looks puzzled again before slowly standing up.
"Um..." He looks towards your TV/monitor. "Supposedly from there?"
You're both bewildered and confused at this point.
"Explain yourself or I'm calling the police."
"Wait, wait, wait! I've come too far for that!" Ethan holds up his hands. "This may sound weird... but I do think I came from your game. I've been trying really hard to come here-"
"The hell are you talking about!?"
"I-I've been the person you've been playing in your... game." Ethan starts, still new to the concept himself. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time since you're the player... and I found a way!"
"You're trying to say you're a game character...."
"Yes!"
"... and I'm supposed to accept this is not a dream?"
Ethan frowns at your response.
"... I can prove it to you."
"Really?"
Ethan pulls out the knife he always has in the game and presses it to his arm. You look away with a grimace when he cuts his arm... but there's no blood. Only mold... the same mold you've been smelling.
Ethan Winters... the GAME character... was inside your home....
"No shit...."
"Believe me?"
"How can I not after... that-"
"Great!" Ethan cheers, stepping a bit closer. "It's so nice to meet you...?" Ethan says, expecting a name to call you. You give him your name. Ethan smiles, saying it's nice on the tongue.
"What brings you... here?"
"Not sure how I did it... but I wanted to meet you since you're the only thing real in my 'life'."
"Only thing real?"
"My life is merely a game in your world..." Ethan sighs. "Don't you get it? Nothing I know is real except this place. No Mia... No Rose...."
You frown. Putting it that way is... really sad. You never thought of it like that. Then again... video game characters aren't supposed to be real.
"Damn...." You mutter. Ethan asks to sit on your couch and you comply.
"None of it matters... not when I'm here now, at least." Ethan gives a small smile. "Maybe I can make a new life here."
His gaze on you is unnatural. It feels synthetic... you know that he isn't entirely human, and that's not just because of the mold. However... you're still trying to understand the situation you've just been thrust into.
"Could you... show me around?"
---
Ethan already knew how to make connections between items in your world and his. After all, his world was modeled after yours. As a result... Ethan adapted quickly.
You, however, struggled to grasp the concept of Ethan in your home. You didn't think you could get used to it. You didn't even know what to tell people.
Ethan treats you like you're his savior. He praises you for opening his eyes. He thanks you for allowing him to stay. You only allowed it as you weren't sure what else to do...
You can't release him into the public.
Living with him was strange. Mold was a frequent smell that invaded your nose no matter what you did to cover it up. You also noticed Ethan doesn't eat... sometimes he doesn't even sleep.
He's unnatural... an anomaly.
You tried to treat him like a friend. If others asked... you said he was just a friend! Ethan appeared to enjoy it when you called him a friend....
If anything, Ethan just wants to incorporate himself into your life.
In his eyes... your fates have been intertwined since you first played that game of yours...
Why wouldn't he cling to you? You're like partners!
Partners... soon, Ethan starts to think you're better than Mia. Mia isn't even real... but you are, just like him! You wouldn't mind if he inched your relationship towards something more... intimate, would you?
After all, he technically was designed for your entertainment one way or another.
You notice Ethan become overly sweet towards you. He's always been sweet and respectful due to his character. Over time... it gets concerning.
Ethan vows to dedicate his whole existence to you, his player. He wouldn't be where he is right now without you! As a result... he doesn't want to leave your side.
Ethan feels he's your type anyways! You seemed to like the game he was a part of a lot... and you mentioned he's really sweet at times... surely he can make this work! Even if he's not fully real compared to you.
Ethan is more like a synthetic lifeform compared to you... still born of code rather than flesh and blood.
Ethan realizes this may cause problems. Yet... he's patient. After all, he isn't going anywhere. There's nowhere to go for him.
Even if he could go back to the game, he'd rather stay where's it's real.
Truthfully, Ethan believes fate will bring you two together in the end. Even if you don't reciprocate his gentle touches. Even if you ignore his words of praise and adoration... he's confident.
There has to be a reason you released him from the game. There must be a reason he's so drawn to you. You're partners... for everything!
Clearly Ethan will be here for you until the end...
If you can't get rid of him, why not choose him as your next and only partner instead of looking for someone else?
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roseapov · 6 months
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Twisted Wonderland: SELF AWARE AU [Masterlist]
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'The Player' and 'The Overseer' Differences
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yandere-daze · 4 months
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Helloooooo I saw this post talking abt the camera function in Enstars and like seeing as how you were also kinda?? Mentioned..I HAVE COME TO ASK ABT WHAT YOU THINK
https://www.tumblr.com/valeriele3/714412939822678016/because-of-the-yanderedaze-post-i-just <- The post lol
I personally never even KNEW there was a camera function. Like, what?? There was one???
I would love to randomly ramble abt it in your inbox but I’m at 2% so..I think I’ll just read your thoughts or rambles abt this topic instead ahakdhsknsks
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Hiya, welcome!! Oooh it´s actually been quite a while since I last wrote something for the self-aware Au.
I actually talked about the camera function before in this post!
I also still can´t believe that there´s a camera function in the game, it seems so out of pocket lmao.
gn reader
tw yandere, stalking, spying
But the idols in your phone count themselves lucky that it exists, otherwise it would be really hard to figure out what you look like. Of course, they will love you no matter what but they can´t help but be curious all the same. Their darling player must be the most wonderful looking person in existence!
So please just. give them permission to spy on you, okay? I mean if you hit accept when the game asks you for permission to use your camera then you´re kind of inviting them to take a look, aren´t you? They´re just so curious to see what you and your world look like. Maybe they´ll even catch a glimpse of some enstars merch in your room! They might just die from happiness if they saw you collecting their merch.
Please let them be part of your world!
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bbimharuuu · 1 year
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Hi y'all sorry for not posting in a while :') so here's an idea I've been thinking about because I got some inspos from an au called the self aware au!
Imagine reader wanting to watch HOTD because someone close to them was praising about how good the show is, so reader wanted to give it a shot even though they don't really know the lore nor the stories of said tv show.
After watching the first episode you got hooked. Already watching numerous videos explaining the lore from ASOIAF and maybe GOT because they've heard that it somewhat correlates to the show they're watching right now. You fell in love with the characters (reader can't really chose and they liked all of them), cheering them on and watching with interest as many events started to show.
Unknowns to you, the characters inside the show felt as if someone was watching their every move. At first it unnerved them, looking left to right when they sense someone near them; only to find no one there. But they gradually grew comfortable with it, not bothered at all if they've felt someone near them. For a few of them, it feels like a calming presence and not a harmful one.
Sometimes reader comments on the things they saw in the show. The characters definitely heard it a few times, the first time a voice commented on what they're doing they just jump in surprise. Reader obviously noticed it and questioned why it's as if the characters heard them. But just brushed it off as an editing mistake, only it's not.
After that the characters were almost waiting to hear your voice come back. It doesn't always happen, that's why they're acting almost rabid if they heard your voice again.
They sense your presence, they already heard your voice. They now wanted to see you, to touch you and tell you how important you are in their life. Sometimes reader will get spoilers, so they'll warn their favourite characters about certain events. You'll be very confused when talking to your friend about how the story you watched was sometimes different from them, but only in small details so you never really bothered to question it.
Thoughts ���� I've been reading lots of stories from a Yandere self aware au! A lot of them are from video games but a few of them are from tv shows instead, so that's why I was inspired
Let me know if y'all like this!
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belphiesreverie · 1 year
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Ok but your most recent post about your Azul pulls had me thinking about a yandere twst self aware au (if you don’t already have one) so could we have some hcs or just general thoughts about yan self aware Azul sabotaging your pulls for other characters? 🧸 anon
Aaa welcome 🧸 anon!! And I don’t have one yet, but if you guys wanna talk to me abt one then I’d certainly be happy! I love yandere self aware aus sm 😩💕
Azul is absolutely one of the first characters I think would become self aware and use it to his advantage tho! He’s super smart, so I just know he’d find some way to manipulate the game to increase his odds of coming home. If he manipulate the other characters, he can do it to the code too /hj
Whenever you pull on event banners where he has a card, you don’t have to wait very long before multiple copies of the card come home. And even if he’s not an event card, his dorm uniform card will find it’s way into your pulls
Not only does this help him be closer to you and increase the chances of you wanting to use his cards, but it also helps to stop other characters from coming home. After all, how can you get anyone else’s cards when every pull is one of his?
Maybe if he does this for long enough, you’ll just stop pulling for other characters cards entirely? Of course, this plan requires for him to be the only self aware character, or for the others to not be as adept at altering the game as he is
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2broschlininahotub · 2 years
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Here is an idea imagine if the creator made the world like a painting. Albedo would be very happy and ask the creator on how they created life
Here is the reference image the card is called weather painter rainbow
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Here is another alternative outfit for the idea
The card is called weather painter moonbow
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chococolte · 9 months
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☼ — pietas maris
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♱ : my take on sagau childe
including ☆! — him as a worshiper, and his reaction to being your lover ⛧
word count. 5.6k
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl. ୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. now time for me to disappear back into the aether for another 6 months
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The abyss is cold.
It is unfeeling, lacking warmth and passion. It is relentless, cruel, and unkind. It corrupts, ruins, and does so freely, without remorse or thought. It leaves you clinging to the hot blood in your veins, curled up and hidden in the dark reaches of its void.
Childe had always been versatile; quick to adapt, even at such a young age. He grew used to the emptiness, the swelling numbness, and the eventual gnawing loneliness left in his abdomen. They became a part of him as his lungs, as integral as air; to be without felt odd, foreign.
The glimmer of your existence kept Childe company. He did not know who you were, or how lucky he was— only that you brought him comfort, like an old lullaby, or a blanket worn from overuse. He reached for you when the darkness grew too much, too heavy a burden on his small shoulders.
He came to you with little offerings; small trinkets, tomes of unreadable text. Useless to him, but perhaps you would take pity on him in exchange, and let him take comfort in your presence for another day. Childe came to you with rubble shaped in hearts, the gentle breath of his voice as he spoke of his anxieties. He did not think of them as offerings then, merely gifts— pleadings for you to stay a little longer.
His hands, then unruined and soft, made you a makeshift altar crafted out of whatever he could find. He made sure to build it where he felt your whispers were strongest, where your light entirely overwhelmed the darkness overhead. Childe didn't think of it as an altar then, just a place to settle his findings, where he could pretend his sad, little effigy made of you was actually you.
The idol didn't look much like a person at all, and at the time, he didn't think of his behavior as odd. He desperately clung to you for survival, and with no other warm body besides his own, you were the only one he could talk too.
At times, he thought he was going insane. There was a pleasant buzzing in his ears whenever he neared your doll, as if it were calling him. Despite the fact that he had made it, proven by the tiny scars on his palms, he still felt as if it was yours.
In the darkness, Childe whispered to you. He said everything his mind could think, childishly exaggerated tales in hopes of impressing you. A foolish endeavor, considering you were a God— but he still hoped that maybe you'd think of him kindly, and let him bask in your protective glow for just one more moment.
He couldn't hear your words, but he could feel them. The twinkle of your laughter was like a soft whistle in his ears. When you were pleased, the air would lightly ruffle his hair. Despite how agonizing his loneliness was, at least he had you by his side.
Childe's innocence, as all things do, eventually withered away in that malevolent black.
He thought of you as his teacher; a guiding hand that trained him, molded him to fit against your palm. When he struggled against the abyssal beasts, he could feel you— a soft brush against his hand, a firm hold on his back, keeping him focused. You taught him when to still his blade and when to strike.
In the arches of his sword and polearm, in the taut and tense pull of his bow, in the whirlwind of his catalyst— you were there, shining from beyond the thin veil separating you.
When Childe was ripped out of the abyss, so was his connection to you. Like a thread snapping, he could no longer feel you; not in the darkness overhead, not in the grip of his blade, of the depths of his soul. You were gone, and he was once again nothing but a boy, lost and alone. Friends and family surround him, thankful for his return, but his mind is still reeling, still stuck in the abyss and the sudden emptiness left in your wake.
Despite himself, Childe had hoped you would have stayed, even once he was out. He thought he was done with being naïve, but that clearly wasn't the case.
He can’t feel you anymore. Where did you go? Why did you leave? What did he do wrong? Questions swirl in his head like whirlpools of thought. Childe feels like he's drowning, suffocating in the mess of his mind. His breaths come out short, quick and sharp. His throat squeezes, constricting his airways, as he realizes what's unfolded.
You left him.
He should've known better. On that first day, all you had done was take pity on him by letting him linger in your light. It was his fault for ever believing that he would never have to be alone again. That even if he had no one else, at least he had you.
This was the result of his own failure. If only he had proven himself worthy.
When his family found him, they found him gripping a small, rudimentary doll. Even when they reached their home, Childe was still clutching the thing as if possessed. When they tried tugging it out of his hands, saying it would help him eat better, he ripped it from their grasp, holding it to his chest.
Childe couldn't accept that you had left him so easily. At night, back in his warm bed, Childe tries to whisper to you again. The familiar warmth sinks into his pores, but it's nothing like yours. He nuzzles closer to the doll, ignoring how it tears into his skin.
"I'm here," he whispers.
Maybe you got confused. He knows you're a God, but even the Seven are not omniscient. When he was torn from the abyss, it was possible you hadn't meant to so cruelly cut the connection between you. Maybe you couldn't find him, and so he just has to tell you where he is.
So he whispers to you in the dark, just as he has so many times before.
Only this time, he's met with silence.
In the years that pass, you linger at the forefront of his mind, haunting him like a wraith. Childe can't bring himself to be rid of you, despite how it hurts every time he thinks about you for a little too long. He's still stuck, perpetually waiting for your return, despite how he knows you've long given him up.
Childe becomes Tartaglia, the 11th Harbinger under the Tsaritsa. He takes a new name, a new mask— he executes her orders dutifully, and he does his role perfectly. He acts as if she's you, despite how desperately he wants to believe otherwise. If he closes his eyes for long enough, he can pretend that the cold that seeps into his bones in her presence is yours.
But no matter how many names and identities he takes, he'll always just be your Ajax; the boy who still misses you, despite how short your time together was. And that fact is what burns him the most.
Maybe he should be angry. He knows he has every right to be. Angry that you left him, that you discarded him as if he was nothing. Maybe he should hate you— hate you for leaving him alone, as if you weren't the only thing keeping him sane. Hate you for leaving as if his love didn't matter to you.
He comforts himself by thinking of the time dilation he experienced in the abyss. You cared for him so much that you spun three days into three months. He likes to believe he meant something to you; he must've, because why else would you lengthen your time spent together?
Childe knows it isn't true. He didn't matter enough for you to stay, after all.
At night, Childe finds himself listlessly thinking of you. It's a silent mourning. Quiet tears fall down his cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath his head. He chokes down every heaving sob that threatens to break from his throat; clenches his jaw when they claw too close to his lips. He slaps a hand over his mouth when he's too loud, biting his fingers until they're bloody and marred by his teeth. What would you think if you saw him this weak? Saw the boy you built up crumble, all because he can't feel even the softest traces of your presence anymore?
You would find him pathetic. All he's done is prove that you were right in abandoning him.
When the memory of you is too much to bear, he clutches the effigy in his arms, squeezing it against his chest until it's sharp edges dig into his skin. Even after all these years, he's still kept it close. He tries to feel the visage of you that was once attached to its bearings, whispering for you under the night sky, hoping it'll remind you of your time in the abyss— hoping that tonight he will feel you again, ruffling his hair with tendrils of wind.
He never does.
Childe barely sleeps, but when he does, he dreams of you. You have no body, no face— he can't even begin to imagine what you look like, and he doesn't dare too, even when he knows he has nothing to lose.
He's back in the dark, but you're still there with him, providing him light and comfort. If he knew that leaving would entail being without you, he never would have left at all. Better to be with you than to die without.
Sometimes, he dreams of you staying with him even after he escapes. Your warmth is ever-present. He gifts you riches, now. You have a voice in his dreams, and he can hear you speaking to him. You're kind, and gentle, and he wants for nothing. He has you, and there is nothing more to want.
He dreams he never lost you at all. It makes reality all the more painful.
In a way he knows is pathetic, Childe hopes you at least found him fun. He hopes you found him entertaining, despite how the thought twists his heart and guts into little knots, until he feels vaguely nauseous at the notion. At least then you would have reason to remember him. At least he could say he meant something to you.
In a hidden corner of his room, there sits an altar for you. His wealth as a Harbinger means he has no lack of resources, and so he bejewels the altar until it glimmers even without light. It's obnoxious and opulent to the point of vanity, but he figures that if you like it, he'll earn another whisper of warmth from you— in the vain hope that you hear him at all anymore.
With his hands, now calloused and worn, he carves sigils into whalebone. He doesn't know what they mean, but they were numerous in the abyss; and so he etches them into bone, hoping that whatever they mean, it reaches you.
Childe pushes himself more than he should. His back aches from all the weight he carries on his shoulders, but he trudges forward despite how it hurts. He is more fervent in conflicts, and spectacular scenes of blood and viscera follow him every time he walks onto a battlefield.
His tongue forms words of devotion for the Tsaritsa as he slays another enemy, blood staining his fingers, but in his heart, he only ever speaks of you.
When he fights, Childe can lose himself. He can focus entirely on the movement of his feet, the precision of his blade. He can ignore how badly he misses you, and how in the back of his mind, he desperately hopes that the more blood he sheds with your teachings, you'll find him satisfactory.
Adrenaline rushes through his veins, and once again he lets himself be drowned by the rush, letting himself forget all of his pain.
Childe is proud of the way that no one can recognize his style of fighting. It is exact and sharp— every strike hitting its target with ease, filled with vigor and intensity. He enjoys the gazes of jealousy, but remains silent when asked. My teacher taught me, he says. He sheds no further light on the matter, and any instance someone shows interest in learning from him, he instantly refuses. Childe wishes to keep you close to his chest, a guarded secret known only to him.
Childish, perhaps. He knows it is. But if he can't have you, then he will have the knowledge of you. He will keep it to himself, and there it will stay, safe in his tight grip. 
It drives him insane, the way sees you in everything. When night falls, covering the sky in a blanket of stars, he wonders if you're staring at him from above. When the tides of the sea brush against the shore, he finds himself thinking of you as the moon— you are what anchors him, despite the fact that he hasn't felt you in so long. In his eyes, there is nothing you could not be, and with every breath, he only ever misses you more.
It's during his mission in Liyue that he feels you again. Childe is unable to breathe when he meets the Traveler, sensing you watching from their eyes. His heart thunders in his chest, tempestuous as a storm over the sea.
For a moment, he's happy. You're finally back. He wants nothing more than to run to you, to ask you why you left for so long, to ask how he can make you stay, but then he feels you— a familiar pressure bearing down on him, forcing him to say anything but what he wants to.
Childe watches the Traveler's back fade as it finally clicks for him.
You abandoned him for someone else. You left him... for this. The thought sends him reeling. You left him, just to go spend time with someone else— to give them the same company you gave him, to give them the same guidance you gave him— was he merely replaceable to you?
Was he just a test for you?
He should be angry. And he is, but the heartbreak overwhelms him. He's left choking, battling for air. The agony of having been tossed to the side, of having it be affirmed in front of his eyes. He wants to scream and cry, beg for you to return; but his throat squeezes every time he meets the Traveler, and the words die on his tongue.
You don't want him to speak. He's meant to play along.
Childe had waited for you for so long. Even after all this time, he couldn't get rid of the painful hope that you'd return. He had done his best to bottle his emotions, to keep them shut and locked inside, so that you wouldn't be disappointed in him upon your arrival. Proud that he never doubted you for a moment.
But he had. He had doubted you, cried at the lack of your comfort. Afraid of what it meant to be without you. Fearful of living, never getting to gleam your existence for a second time— and now you want him to pretend as if he never knew you.
As if he can't see the slight smugness in the Traveler's eyes.
His fight with the Traveler is personal. He bares his teeth, snarling like a rabid dog. His every strike is fast, precise with the intent to kill and maim. Childe hopes his emotions reach you, that you know of his bitterness and acrimony. That you know of how long he wished for you, how long he yearned for you to come back— how his frustration has twisted into pure rage, turned into a fine point. 
He just has to simply show you how he's better. He has to show you that he's superior in every way to your choice. That you should've chosen him over them. 
They are undeserving; watch how he rips through them like they are nothing, slicing through them like they are mist over sea. They are unworthy; see how easily he beats them into submission, how easily they crumble at his feet. The matter of the Gnosis is nothing to him, now— only whether you see how he should be the one you prefer. 
It's then that he feels it. Your rage. Your anger at having been battered and bruised. The Traveler stands back up, but something is different now. Their strikes are fluid, prowess and skill increased by an outside force. 
You. 
Do you hate him that badly? Detest him so much, to go so far as to bless another with your strength so they can prove themselves to be his better? Even in his Foul Legacy form, Childe is forced to retreat; forced to bow his head in defeat, weakened by the burden of his transformation.
The realization leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He's done the exact opposite of what he set out to do. All he's proven is that your right.
Childe feels your crushing weight bearing down on him. He spits the words out, calls them 'friend' through clenched teeth. He dances to your whims, just as he had previously. Unnatural, stiff movements and words that speak the opposite of what he means. 
And then you're gone, left along with them. He stares at their fading back. He can almost imagine you beside them, walking by their side just as you once did his. 
It hurts.
The next time he feels you, there is no sign of the Traveler. Only a tight pulling in his chest. 
He doesn't know what it means, or what it entails. But he follows, sensing you at the end, waiting for him. Childe doesn't allow himself to hope; that maybe, you have come around. That maybe you do care. That maybe, you never hated him— not truly. That you missed him just as he missed you. 
Maybe he meant something, after all.
When he reaches you, he feels it. You're happy. You're happy with him. He feels you reaching out, tickling him with strands of your will. You brush against his skin, burrow deep inside. Childe lets you, still unable to breathe.
He wonders if this is really happening. Have you come back to him, truly? Have you finally realized how much better he is? He feels you graze his soul, reaching deep within. Childe feels you envelop him, swathing him in warmth and comfort. 
You're home, you whisper. 
He only hears the ghost of your voice, a chime in the wind; but he hears the intent, the meaning behind your unintelligible words, even though he can't understand them. 
Childe breaks. 
SANGUINE NATUS ; first meeting/as a worshiper
If even just your breath could leave him weak, then seeing you for the first time makes his knees give out underneath him.
It's a foolishly embarrassing display, but Childe can't find it in himself to care. He falls to his knees quicker than his mind can catch up, unconsciously posturing himself to make himself seem as small and harmless as possible— anything to make you stay, even if it means sabotaging his image.
He tucks his shoulders inward, struggling between looking at you until his eyes burn and your image is seared into the back of his eyelids, or averting his gaze because just touching you with them feels like he's sullying you somehow.
His breath comes out short and sharp, his entire chest heaving with each shuddering, raspy exhale. Before he can even manage a sound, he's sobbing, crumpling to the floor— there's no care taken to your perception of him now, only the wailful cries of one lost in the weight of your eyes. Childe knows he's being pathetic, a mess of airy desperation and red eyes; everything he was when he felt the ghost of you leave him, and everything he wished you'd never see. But it's you, and for the first time, he can truly feel your eyes on him.
It's all too much to bear.
"I-It's you, it's you—!" Childe manages to choke, wet tears caking the apples of his face. His eyes strain, burning to see the visage of you through the blur of his vision. Nausea bites at him, his abdomen a sudden storm from the tears that lick at his cheeks.
Childe has always been austere in his worship; strict, solemn in how he acts out every religious rite. There is an icy silence unlike him as he moves, particularly whenever your sanctity is involved. His fingers still tremble despite his stiffness, the desperation loud in every twitch of his limbs. The desire to see you, after all is said and done.
Seeing you for the first time feels as though a wave has overtaken him, drowning him in brine and the cerulean of muddy waters. There is no hiding what he could barely contain before— jerky movements filled with need and the dolor of one disappointed before.
Childe no longer finds himself able to veil it by lies and rushing fights of adrenaline; now, it lies bare, and there's no burning ache to keep it hidden.
His fervor is relentless; a feverish desire to please you coalescing until it's unbearable for his skin. Your reaction to his cries could have been cruel or kind, and it wouldn't have bothered him; all that matters is whether he has finally proven himself worthy of standing by your side.
His worship is eager words spilling from his lips at night, the echo of your name a murmur from his mouth like the sigh of the ocean's waves-- his blades stained red, limp at his sides-- the burning in the back of his throat that comes from years of pleading.
You're here now, even if he can't be with you at all times; and that knowledge leaves him whispering to you, uttering every thought without a moment of reconsideration. It is a ceaseless endeavor, as every word is listless praise and endless adoration. There isn't a moment where he isn't thinking of you in some way, and the mere thought of the opposite leaves him feeling vaguely sick.
He wants to think of you all the time. Though it's such a small thing, in his mind, he has you all to himself— in the sense that there is no one else to take your eyes off of him— there, he can make you happy; there, he can make you proud of him. In that world, you have no reason to be rid of him.
Childe's always kept his habit of crafting you makeshift gifts. They're rugged, imperfect things, but laden with his fingerprints and the palms of his hands. Before, he could only set them still on his altar for you, and hope that it pleased you somehow. He was only ever met with silence, but he could pretend you were happy with him, and the idea alone was enough.
When he catches sight of a sea conch, its pale marks swirled across its smooth surface, he can only think of handing it to you. It's a beautiful thing, and so simple and crude a gift; but maybe you will find worth in such a thing, the simplicity of its nature, and praise him for it.
He gives them to you physically now, unable to shake the urge to do so. His hands always tremble when he hands them over, his knees threatening to buckle underneath him whenever your fingers brush against his. He will never fail to drown in the sensation, allowing everything that he is to become thoughts of you.
Childe has always worshiped you in bloodshed. In the past, he hoped it would leave you satisfied enough to come back; now, it's to prove how much better he is than everyone else. His fear runs deep, like cracks in the earth far below the water's surface, and the sickening feeling of dread whenever you praise someone else suffocates him.
It's unreasonable, he knows, and he has no reason to fear, not anymore— but his heart still quickens at the thought, and his stomach still twists.
It's an all too familiar feeling. When he was first torn from you, he felt as though his heart had been ripped right out of him; and the panic he feels only reminds him of it.
When he's inevitably forced away from you on another mission, he deals with it as quickly as possible, no matter how bloodied or bruised he leaves it. He is brutally unkind in his workings, his words always terse and clipped; a slight edge that never really seems to go away until he knows you're somewhere nearby.
It's when he's forced to stay away from you for a longer period of time that he breaks completely. Upon his return, he is instantly back at your side, heaving sobs and ugly tears running down his face. He can barely think, and a flurry of slurred words leaves his lips— begging to never leave your side again.
Childe knows better than to think he is deserving of your kindness, but he’s desperate to at least stay in your shadow. There, he could stay near you, even if he was swathed in black— even if his only glimpse of you was your back, he would be in bliss. To be near you in some form is all he could ever ask of you.
For all of the power you have granted him, it's only right that he use it for you. A mere word from anyone that isn't pure praise has his grip on his weapon tightening, the tendons on his hand taut and his knuckles pale. He remains entirely oblivious to any moral ambiguity in your actions— whatever you do is right and just; as you are the only one worthy of judging yourself, he does not dare too.
Instead, Childe draws his blade in judgement of others— he will act as your hand and executioner, the arbiter of your faith; it's with only vigor that he hands out punishment, a ferocity bold and true.
AMANS IN SPINIS IACET ; as your lover
Childe's dreams have begun to take a sudden turn.
It's not anything he can control, despite how hard he tries too. They pleased him at first, even though he still couldn't help the way his heart tightened at the idea of you somehow knowing. At that time, they weren't occurring enough for him to be worried, and the content themselves were innocent enough for him to think nothing of it.
You held him close to you, pressing benign kisses across his freckled cheeks, playing with his hair with soft fingers; little things that he could believe meant nothing at all, just a desire to feel your affection in the only way his mortal heart knew how.
The dreams turn nightly, and Childe finally realizes it's much more than that.
It begins at signs of your favoritism. Glances that last more than they should, summoning him to your chambers more frequently; Childe does not deny you, and he can't help the faint giddiness that clouds his mind every time he feels your gaze linger on him. It's a euphoric sensation to know that he is the one you are looking at; no one else. Only barely does he manage to rein in his emotions every time.
You speak much softer to him, and your touch is more affectionate. He turns drunk on your approval, willingly dancing to your whims if it meant having your fingers coiled in his hair for another moment. Before he can stop himself for even daring to think it, Childe lets himself believe he's special to you— and that is where the problem arises.
The thoughts don't stop. Even if he screams to drown out the noise, they still manage to be so loud. The dreams are relentless, more loving, more vivid. He can feel the warmth of your palms as you caress his cheeks, the weight of your breath when you draw your head near; they feel so real, that for a moment, he thinks you're the one sending them to him.
He feels as though he's dirtying you in some form, as if he is the one committing an unforgivable sin against you; somehow managing to desecrate you with just his thoughts alone. The idea sends him into a panic-induced frenzy, kneeling before his altar with rushed, unintelligible apologies on his lips.
Despite his self-hatred, whenever he wakes from one, Childe is left blissfully dazed, nuzzling into his pillow with hazy clarity— pretending that it's you, instead. He wonders what it would be like if his dreams were real, if he could really be so special to you in such a way; entirely irreplaceable, entirely yours.
It doesn't take long for his will to be eroded by his desperation. His desire to resist was already hanging by a thread, and as the dreams persist, any resistance on his end is lost. He falls ever deeper into an abyss of his own making, allowing himself to be undone by his own creation.
Childe has always been needy, but as his feelings rear their ugly head, it only grows worse. He has always loved you— and he had been struggling to choke his own feelings down for as long as he could, fooling himself into believing that they didn't exist in the first place. In his eyes, it's only right that you be the one to shake the foundation he lay; making him crumble until every dark part of himself is laid bare in front of you, only for your eyes.
There's a drastic increase in his desperation to be near you, and any lack of refusal on your part only exacerbates it. He neglects his duties entirely in favor of staying by you in some way or another, be it either by your side, or following you from a distance like a lost puppy.
Your admittance of feelings only makes Childe more fervent. He can barely hear himself speak, his heart fluttering against his ribcage like a caged canary. He can barely believe anything you're saying, and for a moment, he wonders if he's lost in another dream of his.
At your assurance, Childe doesn't dare to doubt you any longer. He falls entirely into you, allowing you to consume his every thought. He doesn't think to fight back, letting you envelop him until his every breath is coated in your name. He is yours, and he has no desire for anything more.
His desire for your approval now emboldens him. Childe's always acted out of an interest in garnering your attention, and though he now knows of your feelings, it does nothing to satiate him; instead, it leaves him hungrier, greedy with an eagerness to please.
He doesn't take from you without asking, but he asks enough for it to be a nuisance. Your affection is everything to him, and he can't bear to go a moment without it. He asks to lay his head in your lap, for you to play with his hair— the loss of your touch is the loss of himself, and sends him reeling back to memories of when he was without you.
The first time you kiss him, his legs instantly give out underneath him, a small groan leaving his lips. Childe doesn't bother to dull his reactions; you deserve to know how easily weakened he is by your touch, with even a brush of your fingers enough to leave him breathless and wanting.
As your favorite, Childe is quick to be rid of any competition. Whether or not you see them as possible suitors doesn't even cross his mind— the fear that snakes around his heart is ever-present, and if they're better than him in some form, it only grows in persistence. He doesn't hurt them, because surely that would upset you, and any devotee of you is worthy of respect— but he is quick to showcase his superiority, and to do so broadly without shame.
Childe grows used to his new status, and uses it to stay by your side constantly. Any attention you give to others is met with instant jealousy, seething glares sent to whoever stole your gaze, even if they only preoccupied a second of your mind.
He could never be mad at you, as clearly the fault lies within himself.
Any signs of your likes and dislikes are instantly noted. If you compliment someone for their behavior, he begins to emulate it, or at least he tries too. If you like Zhongli for how well he executes your orders, then Childe will be the same; only he will do it better, quicker, and prove himself still deserving of your love.
If he were perfect, then you would have no need for anyone else. If he were perfect, he would never have to worry about whether you'll grow bored of him the moment he stops being entertaining enough.
The thought of you with another leaves Childe sick without fail. He knows he has no control over you, and that if you wished to be rid of him, he would willingly walk into whatever punishment awaited him— but now that he has tasted what it feels like to be so utterly yours, he can't bear to imagine another sharing the same treatment.
You kissing another, holding another, letting someone else lay against you; all of it only serves to further blur his vision. Even if it is sinful of him to feel, he can't stop the emotions from swirling in his chest.
You are everything; the earth laid beneath his feet, the foundation of which he relies on. To be without you is to fall, to be without you means death; and if he must carve his skin and bone to fit the picture you want him to be, then he shall.
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weirdthinkingdragon · 4 months
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(Big neuvillette spoiler)
What if with the genshin SAGAU, you do get targeted as a fake by most, EXCEPT Nahida, the enemies, and the sovereign dragons. And Nahida helps you get to Fontaine, where you'd likely be the safest for the time being.
Neuvillette instantly senses and knows who you are, and is even more pissed at the archons from all the injuries you have, how you're terrified of everyone and everything, and how you scarfed down whatever food was laid upon you no matter how great or small. As if you had to bolt at anytime and unsure when you'd be able to eat again.
His protectiveness gets cranked up to a 12+ with being around you. He becomes your shadow and isn't afraid to shut anyone down or hurt anyone that even TRIES to hurt you. The only ones allowed near you is Furina and Wriothesley. They were given a... rather strict warning. Especially Wriothesley.
Good luck even going to the bathroom or sleeping alone. At the bare minimum he lets you sleep at the end of the same bedroom. You also are forced to go with him everywhere (yes, even to the bathroom as well. It's very awkward to you)
He acts like at any moment any of the archons are going to try to come for you, and you wouldn't doubt he'd willingly die fighting them off if it came down to it.
Even when it eventually all blows over, his glare is darker and harsher than the abyss when the archons even try to come near you to apologize.
It becomes very suffocating, but you never get far from him having the Fontaine people on his side, and a much faster swimmer than you could ever be. He's also the fucking reincarnated sovereign of water. No way are you escaping that without some serious powers.
Besides, a part of you doesn't really want to, still traumatized how you were nearly murdered how many times? You lost count after the 600th attempt. A deep, rooted fear of them changing their mind and try to kill you again forms, making you latch more willingly onto Neuvillette and oddly enough Wriothesley.
Even when you see the disheartened glances from the archons and some of their people (such as Diluc and even Ninguang), you hide more behind Neuvillette from mistaking it as more hatred.
Neuvillette may be strict, but at least he does let you talk to some people. At least he doesn't fully lock you up. He also makes sure you get some sunlight.
...why does it still pour sometimes when he looks at your scars?
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flokali · 4 months
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Argenti who believes you (player) are Idrila… the being who’d saved him countless of times, the one who protects him in times of peril. The reason he only meets you in near death situation is due to how the universe works, determined to only let you meet those who adore you once they’re at their weakest and need your help to return to their true form. Every time a new soul comes to you, arriving at the Express’ doors, you welcome them and work tirelessly to give them strength unattainable through other means.
Albeit not knowing how you truly look like, he can see your silhouette in his mind’s eye. He knows the broad brush strokes that compose your face, even your eye color and hair texture immortalized in his memory. He knows deep down that there will never be any being that can rival the beauty of his Lord.
Argenti, who once finally home with you, can finally rest easy knowing that you are with him – watching over him and giving him strength in your own way. However, he still cannot touch you, he hasn’t been able to clearly see your face yet. His journey isn’t done, now he must find a way to bring you to him so he can spread the word of your arrival and power while adoring you in his arms.
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mondaymelon · 5 months
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₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! | sagau lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: theme of obsessiveness, yandere (big surprise!!) lyney + wrio's part mentions past abuse, all the stuff that comes as a side to this au !! ngl neuvillette's part is pretty tame he's literally. just a guy (otter)
⤷ [ you, the heavenly being who created celestia itself, has descended upon teyvat in an earthly form. a god, or at least, theirs. ]
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— sagau!lyney has always lived to be beheld by the eye.
Displays of extravagance, bouquets of flowers and pairs of white doves fluttering from his finger tips. Yes, that was where he belonged, standing on his place at the center of the stage, bright lights fixed on his form as he swept in his arm in a wide bow towards his beloved audience. Listening to their adoring cheers and drinking it all in - their support, the fame, their fanatic attention.
Attention was always something he had yearned for. Cold days exist in his memory, where he wandered the street aimlessly, pale skin littered with growing purple bruises, his only refuge the light tug of Lynette's soot-stained hands clinging onto what rags he wore. In those times, he remembers, a faint voice from above, angelic and holy, soft and compassionate.
A voice that was, in fact, yours. You had stared with wide eyes at your device as the cutscene began, instantly overcome with emotion. "Lyney, Lynette... was this how you had been living? Goddamn, I know every character in this game has a tragic backstory, but look at them!! They're... they're precious!! Wahhh, I want to take you in... Lyney, you better come home..." They were merely throwaway comments that you had blurted out in the shelter of your room, absolutely fixated on their pretty character designs and the dwindling number of primogems your inventory held. Not only had you lost the 50/50 to Qiqi herself, you were now nearing hard pity, and the charming magician was still nowhere in sight. You shut your eyes "Ah... Lyney, how come you-"
Light flickered before your closed eyelids, and you felt the wind tug at your body. Your stomach lurched, oh shit, were you falling..?
"-won't..."
Someone caught you with ease, swift and capable arms holding you, one supporting your back and the other hefting both your legs. Twinkling purple eyes met yours. "Ah, are you alright?" You quickly shook your head, too shaken to speak words at the moment. Surveying your surroundings only brought another wave of confusion - strange buildings, glittering blue lakes and trees, an unfamiliar landscape... Your gaze shifted, and you caught the sight of uncanny ash blond hair, and the hat that sat atop it. Lyney?
He hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you've just fallen from the sky." There was no way in mistaking his voice. "Is there an explanation behind that, or...?"
"I...I- I don't know why I'm here...!" You stuttered, and he visibly flinched at your voice, eyes widening. Shit, had you done something wrong? You trembled in his arms, attempting to stand by yourself, but he wouldn't let you move from his grasp.
"I see." His voice was quiet, now, and came in a single breath. His pupils shook as he closed his eyes in a smile. "Then, shall I bring you somewhere where you'll be safe?"
His heart was racing, pounding against his chest, and he could hardly breath, instead taking in short, desperate little gasps that did little to keep him standing. You.
It was a voice he swore he'd never let escape his recollection, and now there was a face, and touch to pair it with. He smile widened, and his eyes shined with pure ecstasy. It was you, in the flesh, his archon, his god, the highest being. Your body was holy, and he longed to praise it, his dark heart being cleansed just by bathing in your presence. Yet you seemed so fragile in his arms, how cute... it wouldn't be fair to keep you to himself, but being selfish is what allowed him to get this far. Like a songbird in a cage, he'd trap you, admire you, worship you.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you could feel his smile's sweet grow more sickening every beat of silence that passed. "No, What? I-"
His hand struck the back of your neck. Your voice died as your eyes fluttered shut. And in that moment Lyney pressed a kiss to both of your closed lids, a tender touch that one might describe as "loving", but what truly lie beneath it was far more twisted. His heart beat only for you, and red flushed across his cheeks.
"There's no need to worry, my eminence. I'll put on a show, just for your delight." ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!neuvillette has always yearned for warmth.
A warmth is not present in the courts of Fontaine. There, it is cold, sharp, the biting frigidness numbing the hearts of people - those who stand before him in trial, and those who watch with glee in the crowd, awaiting his final verdict with bated breaths.
Neuvillette was most renowned for his judgement. But it was his own that was a critical flaw. For what truly was judgement? Had he been justified in casting a murderer, in some eyes, but a hero in others, into the Fortress of Meropide? A mere child, who just sought for warmth, just as he had? He fears his heart has also grown cold and indifferent to the world, and he despises himself for it.
Was it not your warm hand that stroked him lovingly so back then, a quiet, soothing touch that swept away the tears and the salt that clung to his cheeks? Was it not your voice who called out to him on those ever so lonely nights, humming an otherworldly tune as your ghostly visage wiped the sorrow that flowed his downcast eyes? Yes, truly. It was your warmth that caused his eyes to glow anew, your warmth that allowed his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears to flush with contentment.
"Oh, wise ludex! This man is a murder! He stole not only my mother's assets, but my mother's life!" The crowd gasped at the dramatic declaration, their gazes shifting back and forth, from the perpetrator to the "witness." "I will dearly miss her... this man, no, this monster, took my mother away by hitting her over the head with none other than a bludgeon!"
Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Mr... Lucas."
"Y-Yes, ludex?"
"It was never disclosed to the public of what weapon the killer used."
The crowd erupted into a series of sharp inhales, surprised noises muffled by a hand over the mouth, round eyes as large as dinner plates, and frantic head turning. Journalists scribbled frantically in their notebooks, sweat pouring from their faces as they stumbled upon their newest cash cow.
"The verdict. Mr. Lucas is found to be guilty."
And they cheered. For what? Neuvillette narrowed his eyes just a fraction, his displeasure rising. They knew nothing. They were just mindless puppets, willing themselves to follow the sway of the crowd, praising and applauding something that naught needed its praise.
A sensation came over him, like the soft caress and flutter of an angel's wings or a soft, sweet sigh escaping from pouting, half-opened lips. The man snapped his head up, hearing the glass behind him shatter and plummet downwards like crystal raindrops, but what verily sent his heart apounding was the sight of a figure, dressed in heavenly silks, bathed in golden light, and descending into the courtroom. He drank it all in with a bated breath, hearing that for once, the crowd was silence.
You landed in his arms. Beautiful. He almost didn't dare move with you in his arms, in fear of his legs giving way underneath him. Your head lulled into his chest, eyes shut, and your pure, unbridled warmth finally met him, finally doused him in its prescence.
"Your... your eminence..." His voice was a mere echo, quiet, containing little sound at all. "I..."
"To you who has granted me such the blessing of warmth, I shall repay with all of my heart." ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!wriothesley has always wanted... someone to hold him.
It's a selfish thing to long for, and a silent one. Who would pay any heed to a duke's ramblings? Love's a thought that he's never quite fully digested, almost as if he can't truly believe it exists. Of course, he's seen Fontaine's couples, strolling up and down the street, hand-in-hand, yet questions himself in what makes them able to love each other. Perhaps it wasn't his problem with them, but more so a problem with himself.
Ah, that was it.
His heart already belonged to someone, someone he had heard once and never witnessed again. Like the softest breath of the wind, or a joyful child's laughter, it brushed through his soul and soothed it, held it in its arms, and fussed over his messy hair and bruised skin. At times, Wriothesley wondered if it was all a dream, for only something that angelic, mesmerizing could not stem from reality. However, as young as he was in those years, he cannot deny the fact that in his dark days - it was your mysterious voice that carried him into the life, your presence that gave him the wings to continue living.
Yes, since that day, his every breath, every flutter of his eyes and every pump of blood that rushed anew into his veins from his heart was solely for the purpose of meeting you once more.
Another typical day at the Fortress of Meropide - paperwork strewn all over his once-organized desk, a cooled cup of tea sitting next to where his hand lie, the other furiously writing away on the said paper. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling into his palm as he briefly shut his eyes... only to shoot them back upon in a start as he heard the sound of something crashing against the walls, and the sound of paper, flying everywhere akin to a bird.
There was someone, lying, or rather, sprawled across his desk. Dizzy-eyed and muttering something intelligible, a growing red spot on their forehead gradually becoming increasingly more visible. "How did you get in here?" He's immediately put up his defenses, readying his gloves as he steps over - with quiet remorse - the papers that now blanket the ground.
"...Wh...Where am I?"
That. That voice.
Has he stopped breathing? He can feel all the blood rush to his head, and he can hardly think a single coherent thought, only focusing on the rush in his ears, the shaking of his hands, and the sight of you before him, dressed simply in sleepware and glancing around frantically. Gorgeous. Ethereal. The mere sight of you before him had spurred his heart into an erratic, fanatic pace, beating within his body like he'd die if it slowed down.
"Is... Is something wrong?" He was taken aback at the hand waving over his eyes, before settling back into position, realizing that you had been trying to speak with him for the past half-minute in his zoned-out state. Could you see it? The sin that was clearly displayed in his every breath, in his every inch of being?
"No, nothing's wrong." You seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and while your eyes were still filled with confusion, you tilted your head at his words. How come he was smiling...?
"Ah, then about that question-"
"Home. You're home. And this is where you'll be staying, forever." ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) ugh i swear to god i hate every single thing ive ever written for wriothesley he seems so yucky and out of character WJODJKFLJDSMF>
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
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valeriele3 · 1 year
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I have an idea for this post and this post
Y’know how sometimes your game will glitch like the posts above?
What if it’s the characters messing with the code?
In the main story Eichi glitched and he was just there talking even if it wasn’t his turn. The same thing happened yesterday night with Rinne (I can’t exactly explain so please go check out the two links)
I personally don’t put those characters(Eichi and Rinne) in my screen or office unless it’s their birthday or they’re part of the characters that can interact with the birthday cake of the bday boy (Ex. Mika’s birthday. There can be an interaction of Mika receiving a gift from Rinne)
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Imagine a player(you) who doesn’t read the main story unless they’re bored. And skipped through all of them for the diamonds then..
They saw that you finally decided to continue the main story! They were sooo happy!
So obviously they have to take advantage of this rare chance, right? After messing with the code a bit they can finally talk to you!
Unfortunately, it only looks like they’re glitching and talking but the only voice you can hear is the recorded lines..You can’t hear what Eichi and Rinne is saying
But of course they don’t know that..They keep on talking and talking the whole episode without knowing that you can’t actually hear them
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yanderes-galore · 10 months
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I have a request. A scenario where romantic yandere Master Chief becomes self aware and realizes he's in an video game. Though now he desperately wants to be with the reader.
Sure! This fic has two parts so this part will be a bit of a set up to the actual yandere behavior of Chief in part 2 (Hopefully).
I tried to make it make sense yet I still struggle with Self-Aware characters, lol 😅
Bigger Picture - Part 1
Yandere! Self-Aware! Master Chief Scenario
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Self-Aware game character, This is mostly set up, Slight obsession at first sight, Dubious relationship, Slight possessive themes implied, Possible OOC Master Chief.
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The Master Chief has always been the best of the best of the best. People assumed he became who he is through hard effort and training. John was just naturally great.
But humanity's greatest hero had gotten help.
Was it Cortana who helped him through it all? Perhaps Blue Team? Maybe even the Arbiter, Thel?
While they have helped his journey, that was not the only help he got.
Master Chief, John, had gotten outside help. Help beyond his comprehension. This help was not Forerunner in nature, they were human.
They were you.
The Master Chief had been guided by you through his journey. He had fought through the Covenant, The Flood, and the Prometheans all with you. You were a presence who was meant to be Chief's other half.
You were also how John had realized his life was a lot smaller than he thought.
You see, like an AI, John's life is fabricated. All of these missions, all these lives he sought to protect, it all felt real. To him, it felt very real and important.
Then when he defeated the Didact and Cortana warped him to a new plane, Chief saw something. Before he saw Cortana again, he was a screen. He saw you, a device in hand.
Originally these images confused John. Who was it that he saw? Why did he feel... comfort.
When asking Cortana or any other part of the UNSC about it, they assumed he had brain damage. His scans showed he was fine, however. No one else knew about the figure he saw.
It would take a long time before Chief understood. To him it felt like forever, it was probably nothing to you. It was then he knew the truth...
He's fake. It's all fake. His life is only able to exist because of one presence, yours.
You were the only thing that made him relevant. Not only did you guide him, you controlled him. It took Cortana saving him after the Didact for him to understand.
This information cursed his mind.
John was no more a construct than Cortana, was he? He feels like he wasn't supposed to know this. He wasn't supposed to know about you.
Now John wanted to know more. For now he'd focus on his missions, yet he was always looking for a way to see you again. He wasn't sure what exactly made him want to free himself of your control, but it was a new goal.
John began to find himself fascinated by Forerunner technology much more than before. He wonders if this way he can find a way to you. The thought of learning the truth about you is what now drove him.
While you were simply playing your favorite game, you had no idea of what was going on. You had no idea that John was sentient. You had no clue what went on when the game was off
You were completely oblivious to John's desperate scour for the truth of his existence.
In fact you would have no idea what was going on until it's too late.
John began to fall for the idea of meeting you. Romantic attraction didn't occur in his mind, in fact it wouldn't until much later. All he knew was he needed to find a way to meet you. Even if it went against the mission.
The closest John got to seeing you was small glimpses. Occasionally he'd "hallucinate" and see you again in front of a screen. He began to grow attached to your guiding presence, yearning to learn more.
He didn't know your name, why he was seeing you, and why he needed to know this all now. Was there a reason? Did YOU choose for him to know?
Was he meant to see any of this?
John's search for information began to degrade his mind. He wasn't meant to know any of this. It wasn't in his code.
But as he continued, soon he became more than an avatar for some code in a game. Soon, he became more and more real as he grew more sentient. It builds up and up... until...
He finds a way.
By what appears to be by accident, Chief stumbles through a wall.
It was unintentional, it even scares the unshakable Master Chief for a moment. He... was in an entirely new place. One that look very green and... binary.
It was like looking inside of an AI. The scenery unnerved John as he explored. Was this also something he was meant to discover?
Then he finds it.
Amidst the darkness surrounded by green lights, he sees a screen. A screen that shows the person he's been looking for. He feels... relieved.
It's you.
That controller-like device of yours sits down on on a desk. Meanwhile you're looking through a bookcase. John doesn't realize he's drifted closer, reaching his hand out.
You looked so peaceful. A human who's not surrounded by intergalactic war. It's a feeling he's not very used to.
He stretches his arm out to the screen towards you. You've been tormenting his mind for so long. Now... he can finally know the truth.
When he sees you... his mind thinks of one thing.
You're his guardian... his guide... you're his.
He presses against the screen, visor not looking away from you... and he falls through.
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Hi!! I really love your writting🥰 i would like to request for the self-aware au, Reader hiding behind them after being chased by some particularly pushy NPCs with Rook, Trey, and Jack please❤️
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, description of violence, blood, obsession, stalking
Trey Clover/Jack Howl/Rook Hunt-Hiding behind them
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Ah, what a nice day. In fact, it is perfect for trying out that recipe with that dough that needed to rest for a while
Or rather, that was his plan for the day until he suddenly heard two pairs of footsteps rushing into the dorm kitchen
And no, it was not the kind of footsteps that spoke of joy like the ones of his siblings did. from time to time, it sounded panicked
Just a second later you entered the kitchen with an octavinelle student, the latter one trying to catch up to you
Before the baker could figure out what was going on, you were suddenly behind him, using his body as a shield
Oh… oh!
Was this guy harassing you?
How dare he? How dare-
Deep breaths. Very deep breaths - would be something he would have said to himself if he wasn't this angry
By some miracle, he was able to hold himself together
He was this close to loose his reputation as "that nice hat wearing baker"
A strict look towards the student and you were finally alone with him
For you the whole thing was over but for that student?
Suddenly the poor lad fell ill, claiming that he had stomach problems
Heck, he couldn't even keep his food down
Such a shame... Trey surely hoped he would survive
Who else could he secretly gift those cakes? You? Oh no... It's just that he experiments with some new recipes...
Ignore that bottle in the cupboard
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Jack is someone who keeps his friends very close and is not afraid to stand up for them
Only that he saw you as someone more precious than a friend
So when he saw you running away from a student and slipping behind him he saw the world just a tiny bit tinted red
The young wolf beastman isn't someone who uses violence just because he can do or feel like using it
(Honestly, at this point he is more like your little dog than some fearsome wolf)
Just because he didn't turn the student into very biological and mushy fertiliser for the flowers then and there doesn't mean he was calm though
Grabbing the not so nice company of yours, he told you to not worry and leave your little problem to him
Ah yes, Jack Howl, that kind acquaintance of yours
How nice of him
But you know, there are also tales about wolves acting as if they are kind just to devour you
Of course Jack didn't do that
Does not mean that things went as peaceful as you thought they did after you left
Jack usually keeps his instincts under control but on that evening he had to cut his nails very short and scrub his hands
Anyone would be horrified after the sensation of calcium breaking under their hand, splintering like old, dried out wood under a saw
He should feel guilty but... it was hard to do so
Which brings us back to a sink being used by a certain beastman
Geez, some things are so hard to get off of skin once it dries, wouldn't you agree?
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First of all, it's a wonder the hunter wasn't watching you from a tree (or something like that... who knew bushes could walk in this world)
If he had he would have immediately revealed himself by slithering in between you and that oh so foolish first year
But alas, apparently a miracle happened and this time it was you seeking out him
When Rook heart the certain sound of your shoes hitting the ground he was swivelling around, a poem about his devotion towards you already on his tongue...
And them you hid behind his arm curtains (you know, their dorm uniforms sleves)
Did hiw beloved Overseer, perfection and liberatir in person finally choose him as their most favorite- no? Ok that's cool too
If this was any other situation he would have started a speech in his wannabe French, stating how short he was by your rejection
But right now he had to deal with your little stalker (don't try to act all innocent, Rook, you did the same many more times than they ever could without being noticed)
Trying to calm you down the hunter brought you to Pomfiore
And nothing weir happened
No I am not joking, Rook was his usual normal self (if we want to call at best flirtatious remarks and at worst frantic devoted ramblings normal)
From then on you were much closer to the hunter
Especially after a body was found
And oh, how grateful Rook was for not having the time to get rid of the body on that day
Of course, he had noticed how ce fou followed you two to the dorm
How trusting you were when he told you that he wanted to get you two something to drink...
And there the parasite still was, lingering around the entrance of his dorm
The only regret Rook had was finishing his job so quickly
It was always such a bore whenever his prey wouldn't squirm
Well, at least you were now close to him
Just be careful, the hunter was also back then the one bringing her highness a false heart. Who knows how much he would lie to get you all to himself?
Uh and… maybe don't open that box he has in his room in a cooler. He told you he keeps some sort of trophy in there and I think that is all we need to know
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yandere-daze · 1 year
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Congrats on reaching 2k! You absolutley deserve it :D
Could I request a Shu and Mika headcanon on how they would try and make the reader forgive them in the imposter self aware au?
Thank you! I assume you probably just made a typo and put 2 instead of 3 there jfsn
And yes, I´m always happy to write for Valkyire, you know me too well ☺️
gn reader
tw yandere, obsession, mention of bad previous treatment of the reader, mention of murder, self-deprecation ( Mika), self-dollification ( Mika), mention of verbal abuse, unhealthy mindsets ( both), overworking ( Shu)
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How would Mika try to make the player forgive him in the imposter self-aware AU?
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With how far Mika is willing to go for the people he loves, he was probably pretty nasty to you when you first were transported into the game and everyone thought that you were responsible for the disappearance of their beloved player.
Mika gets attached so easily to the point that it´s kind of scary so that obviously means he´s also super obsessed with the player, who spends so much time taking care of him and looking out for him. He´s so starved for love that he soaked up every little bit of attention he was getting from the player, even if he didn´t feel worthy of it
But then one day, the player simply left him and you appeared instead? Mika wouldn´t call himself the smartest person out there but he can figure out just fine that you must be responsible and it´s an understatement when I say that he isn´t very pleased
Honestly? Good for you for even surviving because there´s no doubt in my mind that Mika would resort to killing you out of anger and desperation because you´re the “reason” the player left him
Other than that very extreme scenario he also isn´t all that nice to you, which is kind of rare to see from him. But how can he be nice to someone like you that took away the most important person in his life? How dare you?!
Which is exactly why he´s shell-shocked when he finally finds out that you actually are the player and he´s been so cruel to you all this time. Immediately gets on his knees and bows his head while breaking out into sobs, apologizing profusely for treating you so cruelly and saying all of these mean things as he clings to your legs
He truly is so sorry! How can he ever make up for this grave mistake?
Honestly almost throws in the towel at first as he doesn´t think that there is any way to make up for what he did. From the very beginning, he already believed that he wasn´t worthy of being in your presence, of receiving your kindness and warmth. He was dirty and would only taint your saintly body
But now? Oh, it´s simply hopeless! How dare someone like him, who is completely beneath you, treat you like this? He truly has done something completely unacceptable and he´s unsure of what to do, he just knows that he has to atone for his sins somehow
Mika is so scared that you´re going to abandon him now, throwing him away like the piece of trash he is. And he understands why you would, he really does, which is why he´s all the more desperate now. He feels that he has to prove to you that he still has his uses, that he´s your pliable doll completely devoted to you and willing to do anything you ask of him
So his way of making it up to you is basically becoming your servant, willing to complete whatever task you ask of him because he thinks that if he proves to be useful, you might find it in your heart to at least tolerate his presence, even if you can´t forgive him.
And as long as he gets to stay by your side, Mika is more than happy to let you control him as you please, all while obsessively thanking you for granting him mercy
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How would Shu try to make the player forgive him in the imposter self-aware AU?
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While not physically violent or downright murderous like Mika, Shu definitely wasn´t kind to you either, to say the least. He´s already pretty rude and snappish to the other idols he holds no grudge for so just imagine the amount of verbal abuse you must have suffered at his hands when he saw you as the reason why his muse left him behind
At first, Shu might have assumed that the reason you left was that his efforts weren´t enough to impress you, which led to him throwing himself back into work to try and make something new that would please you, but the more time passes, the more he thinks that it´s strangely convenient timing for you to appear right around the time the player disappeared
While he was gruff to you before, now he outright takes some sort of pleasure in talking you down as it only seems fitting for what you have caused. And he just gets worse the more you try to be friendly to him, asking you how you dare show your face in front of him. How he finds you reprehensible
Naturally, there´s a nagging feeling of guilt hidden deep within him when the truth finally comes to light and he realizes that he´s done you a great disservice. All this time, you were his muse, the light of his life, and yet he chased you away when you had greeted him with open arms of your own volition. Oh, how he wished to slap his past self now!
You were the most divine creature walking this earth, blessed by the heavens itself, and yet he said all these horrible things to you
He wants to make it up to you to get back in your good graces but he doesn´t really know how to proceed. Shu has a lot of difficulties with being honest and conveying his true feelings to someone because deep down he is still scarred by his childhood and the rejection he felt due to his family never supporting him in his passions. He has long since closed off his heart and so only with a great deal of effort from both sides is he able to open up
But now that you most likely despise you for treating you so horribly, Shu is all the more reluctant to approach you, fearing that you might flinch away as soon as he extends a hand towards you.
He has many discussions with Mademoiselle where he spills all of his worries to her and she tries her best to comfort him all while giving him some advice. She had always been there for him and that´s also true now.
Mademoiselle tells Shu that she´s more than happy to talk to you on his behalf if he doesn´t feel ready to do so just yet. She reasons that it might help break down the barriers that he had created between you. She´s also just very excited to have a proper chat with you!
Meanwhile, Shu goes back to what he knows best to try and make you forgive him: creating wonderful and awe-inspiring outfits.
Though he´s horrible with words, Shu hopes that his feelings will get through to you with this outfit he´s making just for you. He spends days upon days working on the outfit until the late night hours when it´s already gotten dark outside. He´s barely even taking care of himself, instead tirelessly working as if his life depended on it
And well, to him it did. Having his darling forgive him is the only thing he wants. He truly doesn´t know what he would do if you would still reject him after all of this
Maybe this is why he´s even more of a perfectionist than he usually is, nearly ripping out his own hair when he sees even the slightest imperfection that no one else aside from him would even notice. No, this has to be absolutely perfect for you and he won´t rest until it is!
It´s like he´s possessed, never even giving himself a break until he is finally satisfied with the final outcome
Of course, the outfit fits you absolutely perfectly in the end and you can´t help but wonder wherever Shu got your exact measurements from
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bbimharuuu · 1 year
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i loooove the self aware concept, would definitely be fun to see more of. but now u got me paranoid💀
Honestly for me it's more scary if it's a game, like Doki Doki Literature Club. That game scared the shit out of me because of the subtle way they broke the fourth wall maybe by dialogue or actions.
But if it's a tv show they can't really see you (or can they 👀). Like I've said before, the characters are more inclined to hear your comments here and there but they can't really see you. Maybe you'll notice how the characters will stop their conversation just because you've commented at certain things.
It's a fun concept to imagine but it's scary if you do experience it in real life. Like imagine you're just watching HOTD when that scene where the characters are fighting because Aemond just lost his eye and you comment something like how it's basically a bad reality tv show set in the medieval times only to find the characters just...silent.
As if they just heard you.
Yeah after that you'll probably keep quiet and mumble the comments here and there so the characters don't do that shit again 😭
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