#also the next chapter is already written and...👀

[wolfsbanesparks]

Hey y'all! Chapter 21 of Pretty Little Thing is out! And this week Clark is investigating the docks as part of his search for Billy!

Lots of things are falling into place and you get a glimpse of what's to come in the JL side of the story!

[kooklovee]

Yours for a year - JJK

PROLOGUE

One year, one contract, one fake marriage. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

Pairing - Ceo!Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, grumpy x sunshine, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut (MDNI)

Warnings - family pressure for marriage, inner thoughts, different perceptions of love👀, tae is a mutual friend, reader is a uni professor

Wc - 1.8k words

a/n - as mentioned, this is just the prologue- just so yk the bg )) I'm thinking of doing 5/6 chapters max bt those are not even close to finishing.. just bits and pieces🫠 so final update will be only when I've finished AND satisfied with what I've written :) pls be patient <3

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

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Jeon Jungkook believed in a lot of things. But love wasn’t one of them.

Because it wasn’t a necessity in Jungkook’s life.

Love? That four-letter word people threw around like it held the universe together? He didn’t get it. Never had. Never wanted to.

He doesn’t believe in love. Not in the way movies or books paint it. Love is just a concept people cling to.

People made it sound like some grand, life-altering miracle. Like one person could walk in and suddenly your world shifted on its axis. Jungkook never understood how that worked. Why people gave up sleep and sanity and sometimes, even logic, for something so unpredictable.

He never saw the point.

What he did understand? Stability. Purpose. Building something that lasted—not based on feelings, but on facts. Work gave him that. Running Jeon & Co gave him that. He liked being in control. Liked knowing the next step.

And to be fair, his life was good. Great, even.

He had everything he wanted. His career, his family, and his dog- Bam curled up by his feet at the end of every day.

He didn’t need dinners for two. He didn’t need someone to hold. He didn’t need to wake up next to someone who snored or stole his covers or left their shampoo bottles next to his.

He liked the quiet.

He’d seen people fall in love, watched it bloom around him like a damn rom-com montage. Everyone around him seemed to be in on this big- clued into this big magical concept that just didn’t land for him. Like they’d all read a manual he somehow missed.

Love, to him, wasn’t something worth chasing.

So no, he doesn't dream of it.

His older brother, Seojun, was the one originally set to take over Jeon & Co. But somewhere in university, he got an interest in cameras, film reels. So he changed paths, started his own production house- something he was passionate about, something the family supported. Jeon Seojun, now happily married to the love of his life, Harin, and later blessed with a cute little bundle of joy—Rae.

Then there was his sister, Aera—also married, already a successful fashion designer, living abroad with her artist husband and sending aesthetic postcards from every continent.

That left Jungkook. The youngest. The one who was good at everything.

The golden boy. The straight-A student, top of his class, excelled in everything he touched.

So he took the reins. Quietly. No complaints. Took the company to even greater heights. Built Jeon & Co into one of the most respected names in the industry.

He didn’t need anything else.

His life was simple, structured, successful. And he liked it that way.

But now, the gentle nudges from his family started turning into obvious conversations- about marriage.

Even his grandmother had joined the marriage cheer squad, talking about how nice it would be to see him settled, how much she wants to see her youngest grandson married while she’s still around.

They’d been patient for years. But lately, it was like everyone in the Jeon family had decided enough was enough.

So when his mother casually mentioned over dinner that they’d been talking to a friend about a potential match—a lovely girl, smart, already familiar with the family- something in Jungkook snapped.

He didn’t even want to get married—least of all to someone he didn’t know. Not a life partner chosen by someone else. Not a stranger who’ll live with him, sleep beside him, and share the parts of him he doesn’t even know how to share.

So he did the only thing that made sense in that moment.

“I already have a girlfriend.”

The room had gone silent.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him.

And now, here he is, wondering what kind of fucking mess he’s dragged himself into just to avoid being shackled into a marriage with a stranger.

But Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t let anyone dictate what he did with his life.

Especially not when it came to his heart.

Love, was a chaos.

And chaos had no place in his life.

Later that night, he called Taehyung,—the one person who’s been there since their school days, unsure of whether he needed a plan or just someone to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind.

Taehyung, in fact, didn’t think it was that bad of a situation at all. At least not one without a potential fix.

That’s when the idea came up—something so bizarre and impractical. Jungkook couldn’t believe he was actually considering it,

A fake marriage.

Taehyung had suggested like it was the most logical solution. Just a year. One year of pretending to be in love and married. Long enough to satisfy his family, long enough for everyone to believe it had been real. And then—well, things wouldn’t work out. They’d “divorce,” separate, move on with their lives.

At first, Jungkook dismissed it outright.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of someone sharing his space. His home was the only part of his life untouched by the outside world. His world ran on precision and privacy. Letting someone into that world- even under a fake arrangement, felt like crossing a line he’d drawn years ago.

And besides, it couldn’t be just anyone. His family wasn’t stupid. If he suddenly showed up with a complete stranger, they’d see through it in a second.

That’s when Taehyung said he might know someone—that he trusted, that she was dependable. She wasn’t from Jungkook’s world, which might actually work in their favor.

Taehyung promised to talk to her first, see if she’d even be willing to consider something this ridiculous.

The entire idea of a fake marriage felt childish. But the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. At least this way, he’d have control over who entered his life, buy him a year of peace—freedom from the constant “marriage talk”.

Just one year, after all.

"It’s the third time I’m saying no, Taehyung. Don’t you get it?"

You huffed into the phone, flopping down into your office chair. Your cardigan sleeves were already pushed up from the two-hour lecture you'd just delivered, your notes still a mess on your desk.

You had barely gotten a sip of water before your phone buzzed, and of course—of course, it was Taehyung.

“I’m not asking you to marry a serial killer,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “The CEO Jeon Jungkook. Not exactly someone I see fake marrying for any reason.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout as you turned away from the glass pane in your office door.

You’d never met Jeon Jungkook before. Not even once. Just heard about him in passing from Taehyung. "My best friend from school," he’d always say, tossing the name around like it was no big deal.

Like Jeon Jungkook wasn’t this corporate enigma. A hot prodigy in business, son of a chaebol family, making a name for himself in the most unnervingly silent way.

You remembered the buzz when it had happened—articles, interviews, headlines, the ‘mystery heir’ who never spoke unless he had to. He disappeared from the public eye just as quickly, and that was that.

Until Taehyung showed up at your door yesterday, looking far too excited for someone about to propose a fake marriage arrangement.

It had sounded insane at first. Because it was insane.

Taehyung had explained you the situation Jungkook got himself into, with the same energy someone might use to pitch a movie script.

And what was his solution?

You.

“It’s just a year,” he said now, voice sliding back into persuasion-mode. “One year. So it looks real. You two live together. Make it convincing enough so his family backs off. Then you divorce, like fake divorce whatever, and it’s over! No harm done. It's not like you're actually getting married.”

You stared at the ceiling, “Tae. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

He snorted. “Neither is rent in Seoul. Come on. You told me your roommate left, you’ve been searching for a new place. This solves that plus you get paid too! A logical person would never say no to this, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend in front of the whole world. Just his family. Think of it like a job.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by how tempting that actually sounded. You were indeed searching for a new place ever since your roommate had gotten transferred across the country. You hadn’t realized how ridiculously unaffordable rent was until you’d started living alone. And this offer, as ridiculous as it sounded, came with a house and money.

Still. A fake marriage?

You weren’t exactly the fake-it kind of girl. You'd always held this quiet belief in old-school romance. The kind that was built slowly, like a soft song that stayed. But you’d also lived long enough to know life wasn’t a movie.

Back in your student days, you’d buried yourself in textbooks, not people. Relationships weren’t something that you felt urgent back then.

Then life happened. Work took over. The days got busy, and dating just… never found its way in.

Love, to you, was about ease.

About finding someone naturally, in moments that didn't feel curated.

But you'd still tried some years back- a few blind dates your friends sent you on, awkward setups, the usual.

But nothing ever felt right. Nothing ever felt real.

Romance was something you assumed would fall into place eventually.

You wanted something that just... happened.

When it was meant to.

And now, after years of quietly waiting for something real, you were being considered for the role of a fake wife.

You almost scoffed at the absurdity.

“He doesn’t even know me,” you sighed.

“He knows I trust you. That’s enough for him. So technically he won't be letting a complete stranger moving into his house,” Taehyung said, like that explained everything.

You blinked. “So I’m just... the least suspicious option?”

“That's just a bonus,” Taehyung laughed. "But no, really, just think about it."

“What if his family hates me? And his mom throws a Birkin at my head?”

He groaned. “You’re being dramatic. They’re nice people, Y/N. No one's gonna throw anything at you, I promise.”

“I mean, come on,” Taehyung added playfully. “I just know you’re gonna be a really good actor.”

You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary buttering he was doing.

You could’ve actually considered this whole fake marriage drama. Because as much as it sounded stupid, sure, but it also sounded fun to you.

But again, he wasn’t just any man.

You were just a regular girl with a regular job and a "not-so-glamorous" life. But you enjoy it, being a university professor with a cluttered desk, a habit of losing your pens at least three times a day and considered laundry a full-body workout. You liked your little routines.

But you were also someone who definitely didn't live in the same world as his.

So the idea of faking a marriage- especially to someone like Jeon Jungkook, a man who basically belonged in the pages of Forbes—felt so far out of your league it was laughable.

Even thinking about being tangled in something like this with someone like him felt strange.

But maybe...

it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

It was almost New Year’s. And People made wild resolutions all the time, right?

Maybe this was a little main character arc you never saw coming.

It’s not like you had wild plans for New Year’s anyway.

Just one year, after all.

What worse could happen?

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[shegoesbyjoy]

It smells like the lazy mornings they so rarely experience but infinitely cherish, arms wrapped around each other as the sun’s rays filter in through his blinds. It smells like the two of them huddled impossibly close inside a storage closet, hearts beating wildly as they listen to the sound of boots clambering past on the other side of the door. It smells like the comfort of Harry’s shoulder, a sure and solid presence underneath Kim’s head as the drone of the bus engine behind them lulls his tired body to sleep. It smells like Harry’s side of the bed, on the days Kim wakes up alone and flips over to it to enjoy the last of Harry’s warmth as he gets ready for an early morning run.  It smells like home.

100% used this chapter's prompt as an excuse to put Kim in Harry's shirt >:) chapter 3, based on smell, is out now!

-> chapter 1: hearing -> chapter 2: sight -> chapter 3: smell ⏳ chapter 4: touch ⏳ chapter 5: taste

A lilting tune makes itself known as he slowly opens the door and ventures into the living room. Kim remembers the first time he heard something similar—an impromptu song accented by the distant calls of seagulls as he sat waiting on one side of a rusty swing set, steadily observing the slow reveal of a sunken motor carriage held hostage by slabs of cracked ice and seawater. A merry little melody in defiance of surroundings that were not only bleak, but hid a terrible truth soon to be discovered by the man sitting on the swing next to him. Stopping short of the balcony door that had been left ajar, Kim takes a moment to observe Harry through the glass and lets the melodic trill wash over his eardrums. It’s quite a reversal—the two of them now in a comfortable, cozy environment they both call home, while a deeply melancholic tune flows out from between Harry’s pursed lips.

"life gets hard—but we go on," klaasje once said. so here's my way of going on at the moment: writing a tender harrykim fic :)

trying something fun with this one! there's no real plot to this, i'm simply using each of the 5 senses as prompts for writing various moments of their lives together. the first chapter based on hearing is out now, i hope you enjoy! (and as always, if you have read, shared, and/or left kudos & comments on any of my fics...thank you so so much <3)

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (05/10)

The Challenge

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: new sensations envelop you when you are with Aemond, especially when you learn more details about his relationship with Alys and an unexpected news fills you with nerves.

word count: 6.6k

previous part • series masterlist

new chapter finally!

probably won't be as exciting as the other chapters, however...there is something here going on and I want you guys to figure it out in the comments and we'll see if you are catching what I am👀

the next chapter will be full of drama, believe me, so expect it to come very soon as I'm focusing on finishing writing this story without making new ones and considering I have no more fics pending, just this one🤗

now yes beautiful people, enjoy!

warnings: cursing, language, mentions of cheating.

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen

The sound of birds in the distance reaches your ears.

Today the sky is cloudy, with no chance of rain, the temperature is pleasant and you are thankful that there are no intense sun rays burning your skin when you are outdoors.

You find yourself immersed in your physics homework, sitting on the bleachers of the sports field, where you can only hear the sound of the birds and also faintly the sound of the soccer team training.

You sit in tranquility, undisturbed and unobserved by anyone, when suddenly the sound of footsteps stepping on the metal bleachers pulls you out of your concentration.

You look up and see Aemond approaching, a small smile on his face. You return his greeting with a shy smile and make a small space beside you for him to take a seat.

Aemond plops down nonchalantly next to you, letting out a sigh, then curiously observes what you're doing on your lap.

"What are you doing?"

You deliberately ignore his question and instead, take a loose leaf you had tucked away among your folder, pick it up and hold it out to him, with a gentle yet expectant look.

Aemond takes it and frowns, reading what you've written on it, only getting more confused.

'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen.

'Romeo and Juliet' by William Shakespeare.

"And what is this?"

"Have you already forgotten my conditions of the contract?" you tell him amused, "For every party I go with you to, you have to read one of my favorite books or watch one of my favorite movies or shows," you remind him, "So now, you have to pick one of these two of my favorite books."

Aemond rolls his eye with amusement.

"And why exactly do I have to pick one of these two? Don't they seem... repetitive and so usual?"

"That's what people always say, obviously they know these books by the title and their authors, but how many people actually read these books?" you look at him with your tone full of expectation, "I'm sure you haven't read either of them."

He shrugs indifferently, with his nonchalant air.

"So? There are movies," he says confused, "I haven't seen them either, but I know how they both end. In the end they both get married," he points to the title of 'Pride and Prejudice', "And here they both die together and their families stop being rivals," he points to 'Romeo and Juliet'.

You let out a small chuckle at his witty response, but you are not intimidated.

"Yes but there are a lot of things that in the movies they don't show, so... what will be your choice, Mr. Aemond?"

He lets out a laugh.

"Well, we'll see how this 'Romeo and Juliet' is," he decides.

"Perfect."

And when he least expects it, from your backpack you take the book, handing it to him with your clear satisfaction and he still confused but amused examines the book in his hands.

"Good, then give me the other one at once, because there's a new party on Saturday," he tells you, completely grabbing your attention.

You open your eyes wide and stare at him in disbelief and surprise.

"What? So soon?" you ask with clear irritation and disappointment in your look and tone.

"Why are you so disappointed? After all you come out on top too since I'm going to read two of your shitty boring books," he says as he raises them slightly in the air.

"My books aren't shitty and they aren't boring!" you exclaim indignantly giving him a gentle tap on the shoulder, "And it's okay, I just didn't think it would be so soon."

"We'll just go for a little while. Then we can both go get some dinner and I'll drop you off at your house early. Sound good?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

And as soon as you say that, you also hand him the second book with a good forced look, making Aemond laugh and take that book too.

"As much as I like seeing you with a wrinkled nose, take it off or it's going to stay that way," he says amused, crinkling it between his fingers briefly, making you laugh and you immediately move his hand away from your face.

Then he says goodbye to you, before getting up and heading off to his next class. And also not before telling you that he'll see you at lunch.

And as you watch him walk away, you tell yourself that these little interactions are part of pretending, since after all, the guys on the soccer team can see them clearly from this distance.

However, that slight fear returns to yourself that things may get more complicated than you expect.

Fortunately, the rest of the week goes smoothly, the teachers seem to be in a good mood and the homework is not heavy.

And you clearly continue to pretend along with Aemond.

Both he and you continue to act as usual, he is attentive and affectionate when you are together in full view of everyone at school. His gestures and looks full of complicity make you feel special, but at the same time remind you that it's all part of a game.

You also keep your word with Helaena, taking time to sit together for lunch at break time and occasionally Alysanne joins in as well, where you gradually start telling her about Cregan.

Until the day of the party arrives.

You tell your dad that you're going to a birthday celebration for a class friend, nothing big and everything quiet.

Then you opt for a pair of black pants, low-heeled ankle boots, a strappy blouse in a vibrant shade of cherry and a jacket to complement the outfit. And once you look in the mirror, you feel ready, although the nerves begin to settle in your stomach.

And of course, Aemond arrives promptly at your house.

His relaxed expression and smile greet you before you even get into the car. And driving to the party, the atmosphere is comfortable and calm.

And when you both arrive at the house where the party is, it's not a big, loud party like the previous one. But the atmosphere is full of energy, there is music, people dancing, drinks and cigarettes.

And you together with Aemond follow the same procedure to pretend to be a couple in love.

This time, you both decide to be more present with Aemond's friends. You sit between Trevor and Aemond, who immediately puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him, starting to make conversation with his friends.

And as always, he makes sure you're always included, just like during lunch in the cafeteria.

And while everyone is talking, the guys and Aemond make you laugh, feeling more and more comfortable with them. And as the night goes on, you realize how natural it feels to be next to Aemond, as if you fit perfectly into his world, at least for tonight.

When he at your side looks at you attentively and with some curiosity.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you nod nonchalantly, "Why?"

"Just asking," he shrugs, then lifts his hand and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, "Can I get you something to drink?"

You shake your head.

"I don't want to drink beer or anything like that."

"Then a soda? Or water?"

You let out a small laugh.

"Okay, soda's fine."

"Alright. I'll be back soon," he says then leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and gets up to head towards the kitchen.

He leaves for a moment and you are left talking to his friends, who are a lot of fun and in fact, because of them and Aemond, you begin to understand lacrosse as such, since that's all they talk about, besides their nonsense.

And also about some of the girls they like.

And also in that small moment that Aemond leaves, as you briefly observe the party around you, you see Alys with her group of friends in another corner.

You just casually watch them, you don't plan to give them any attention, but just as your eyes watch Alys, she watches you back.

And you are struck by how she says something to her friends with a smirk of superiority without taking her eyes off you and then everyone in her group watches you and laughs too.

You snort as you look away, as if you really care.

Aemond returns with your soda and only a glass of beer for himself, resuming conversation with both you and his friends, having a good time together.

Time passes and you feel the need to go to the bathroom, so you leave your now empty glass on the small table in the center.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," you announce, catching his attention, starting to stretch a bit to get up.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asks you thoughtfully, "I mean, wait for you outside."

"No need, don't worry. I'll be back soon," you assure him, standing up.

"Okay," he nods at you with a small smile.

With a nod, you walk away towards the second floor bathroom, where you'll mostly take a moment to recharge your batteries before heading back to the party.

Luckily the bathroom is empty and you do everything you need to do without pressure.

Then you take a deep breath, allow yourself a brief moment of calm before returning to the party, wash your hands and mentally go over how you should behave around Aemond in front of everyone.

As you exit the bathroom, just down the hall, you notice Alys' presence in the area near the stairs.

You think about just ignoring her and walking past her, but when her eyes watch you, as if she is waiting for you, a mischievous smile curves her lips and she turns fully towards you, giving you her full attention.

"What do we have here," she mutters sarcastically, moving towards you while holding a red plastic cup in her hand.

You watch her completely unconcerned and walk past her, as you don't plan on dealing with her right now or ever.

"How does it feel to be Aemond's new pet?" she asks with a mocking laugh, planting herself in front of you, stopping your steps, "Or did you just think you could replace me so easily?"

Your heart begins to pound in your chest, but you stand your ground, reminding yourself that you will not let his words affect you, as his expression is filled with disdain.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you reply calmly, trying not to give her the pleasure of seeing you affected by her comments.

She glares at you, before a sly smile spreads across her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says with false sympathy, "I really thought you knew."

You frown.

"He's always done this, ever since we started dating," she says, "When we'd break up, he'd date the first girl in front of him as a pathetic attempt to replace me and make me jealous, so you're not the first and won't be the last, sweetie," she tells you with a fake pout, feigning pity for you.

You fix your gaze on Alys, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration coursing through your body. Who does she think she is to talk to you like that?

"I don't need your false sympathy," you reply with determination, your voice resonating louder than you expected, "What Aemond and I have has nothing to do with you."

Alys rolls her eyes in exasperation, as if your words are irrelevant to her.

"Oh, please," she replies dismissively, "Don't lie to yourself. He's always been like that, he's just looking to distract himself and you're just the last in line," she points out to you irrelevantly, "When we broke up, he was crying like a baby for me, begging me to get back together."

Your heart clenches at her words, with a surge of emotions surging through your chest.

For a moment, doubt takes hold of you.

Did Aemond really do that? Was he so affected by their breakup?

You tell yourself that maybe if he hadn't, he would never have asked you to do this. But this was mostly so that Alys would stop making a fool of him at school by cheating on him, not to get his attention and make her jealous... right?

"I'm not surprised you don't know," she continues to tell you dismissively, "But do you really think he loves you? Please," she snorts derisively, "He'll dump you in a few weeks when I give him the slightest hope because he's still crazy about me," she says superiorly, "Look at you and look at me. I know what he's into and that's definitely not you, especially you."

You try to ignore the stinging pain and keep your composure, clenching your jaw.

"I don't care what happened between you," you reply bravely, even if your voice shakes a little, "Ours is different."

She lets out a mocking laugh.

"Oh you poor little thing, you're so naive."

"If that's all, thank you so much for that vital information for my life," you tell her just as mockingly, walking past her, determined to leave her behind.

But just as you pass by her side, Alys moves along with you and purposefully slams your shoulder and arm with brutality, causing the beer in her hand to spill in a dull motion onto your chest and clothes.

The cold, sticky liquid slides down your blouse and pants, leaving you drenched and shocked by the suddenness of the moment.

You feel the liquid soak through your clothes and a shiver runs down your back. And you look down, watching in disbelief as the drink spreads through your clothes.

Then you look back at Alys, who has a mocking, amused look on her face.

"Oh, gosh, how clumsy of me," Alys scoffs, her tone of voice full of fake concern, "I'm really sorry, it was an accident."

You take a deep breath to contain your frustration, but her words spark a small spark of anger inside you. How can she be so brazen?

"An accident?" you repeat, disbelief in your voice as you stare at her with a frown.

Alys just smiles mischievously, enjoying your discomfort and what she just did to you.

"Enjoy the party, honey. But first, maybe you should clean yourself up," she says before turning away, leaving you soaking wet and clearly feeling very proud.

You don't even know what to do, feeling this way leaves you paralyzed for a moment, until you finally make your way back to the bathroom.

At the sink you further wet your clothes with water, which looks worse, but at least you won't stink of beer.

Drops of beer also splashed into your hair, so you wipe that off as well, feeling the humiliation wash over you and you don't even know exactly why.

But you do.

You look down at your ruined booties too, soaked from the front with beer and water.

The skin on your chest and collarbone feels chuckling from the beer, so you wipe it off too, when suddenly, there's a knock on the door.

"One moment!" you exclaim grumpily, still cleaning yourself.

"Y/N?"

You hear Aemond's worried voice outside.

"Fuck," you curse in a whisper.

"Are you okay?"

You bite the inside of your cheek and let out a long breath, already having the idea that you won't be able to hide this from him.

You were only supposed to come to the bathroom and you've already been late, of course he must have sensed something was wrong and come looking for you.

You leave the wet towel in the sink and open the door, where Aemond instantly notices you and opens his eye wide, seeing your clothes and some of your soaked hair.

"What happened?" he asks worriedly, moving quickly towards you, examining you.

You struggle to keep your composure, but can't, a bad mood overcomes you and you make your displeasure clear.

"Alys threw her drink on me," you finally say, stepping aside to let him go into the bathroom with you, reaching back for the damp towel to clean your skin.

Surprise crosses your face before it morphs into an expression of restrained fury and disbelief.

"What?"

You hiss, looking in the mirror at yourself as you wipe your sticky skin.

"Did she say something to you?" he asks, his voice serious but full of concern.

You let out a gesture of disbelief.

"She said things many things," you say seriously, not watching him for a moment, trying to dry your hair with the towel.

Aemond frowns, clearly annoyed.

He walks over to you and takes the towel from your hands, stopping your attempt to dry your hair. His gaze meets yours through the mirror, searching for answers.

"What things did dhe say?"

You sigh, feeling the weight of the situation on your shoulders.

"It doesn't matter, she just said bullshit," you reply evasively, looking away.

Aemond watches your face, urgently wanting you to look him in the eye, but you don't, you avoid his gaze and are obviously annoyed with the situation, which he doesn't blame you for.

He's annoyed too, because he knew he should have been near you to protect you if Alys is in the same place as the two of you.

He sighs in frustration, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, watching your soaked clothes and how you continue to clean yourself.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs sincerely, his voice full of regret, "You shouldn't have gone through this. She's totally out of her mind."

You remain silent for a moment, fighting the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. As he looks at you with anguish and regret for not protecting you from Alys' comments and actions.

"It's not your fault," you finally say in a serious voice, still not looking at him, then set the damp towel down on the sink and inhale softly, "Can you take me home?"

Aemond nods, feeling guilty.

"Sure," he murmurs, "But first... you can put on my jacket," he says as he starts to take it off, "I'll be waiting outside."

He takes it off and gently hands it to you, his hand brushing against yours with a gesture of tenderness.

"Thanks," you murmur.

He exits the bathroom, closes the door and you remove your blouse and soaked jacket, leaving your bra down and immediately wrap his jacket around you, zipping it up almost to your throat.

With your clothes in your hands, you walk out of the bathroom and Aemond watches you silently, attentive and concerned, with a sadness and frustration in his eye that he can't hide.

He hates your distance.

A few moments ago the two of you were having a good time and now that Alys has done this... he hates that you are apart from him.

You both return to the party and Aemond doesn't even say goodbye to his friends, thinking he'll text them later, grabbing your shoulder and walking out of the house with you.

Together, you walk to his car in silence, where he doesn't dare to say a single word to you and you don't really want to talk either.

And all the way to your house, that nagging feeling doesn't leave your system.

But is it specifically because Alys spilled her drink on you or is it the interesting information she shared with you about Aemond?

You don't.

But you do.

Aemond tried to talk to you about what happened but you wouldn't let him.

You feel it's something you shouldn't make a big deal about. After all, he and you are not really 'dating'. So before he dropped you off at your house, you just reassured him that everything was fine and nothing more.

Now it's your father who drops you off at school on this day and you head towards your locker, immersed for a moment in thought.

You carelessly take your backpack off your shoulders to open it at the same time you open your locker, but as you do so, a polaroid falls to the floor.

You frown and bend down to pick it up, confused, since it's not yours.

And as you look at it, your heart begins to beat too hard in your chest as you see a picture of Aemond and Alys as if at a school dance or a party, both of them hugging.

But that's not what catches your attention, what does is seeing how there's is a picture of your face overlaid over where Alys' face should be, indicating just that, her replacement, a second place or temporary substitute.

But the thing about you and Aemond is not real.

So... why are you so affected by something you know isn't real?

It's a question that haunts your mind as you struggle to maintain your composure, beginning to tremble and feel your breathing heavy.

You swallow hard and press your lips together, when just then, you hear it...the giggles.

You raise your gaze and in the distance, you see Alys with her friends watching in your direction and laughing, clearly mocking you.

Although your relationship with Aemond is fake, the pain you feel at this moment is real.

And before you can react, Aemond's voice is suddenly heard.

"Hey, I was—

You turn your head towards him instantly and your eyes meet his, but his words hang in the air the moment he sees what you hold in your hands.

His soft expression slowly transforms from confusion to fury as he sees the picture. His whole face hardens completely and he purses his lips.

And sure enough, it's a matter of him realizing what's happening, as he hears Alys and her friends' laughter and looks in their direction, hardening his gaze even more.

"Aemond—

You try to speak but he instantly walks over to where Alys is standing without saying a word to you, taking the picture from your hands.

Your heart beats harder, opening your eyes wide and you want to walk towards him, to stop him, but somehow, you are paralyzed and you don't know exactly why.

Tension begins to feel in the air and you feel like your heart will burst out of your chest at any moment.

Aemond arrives in front of Alys with a determined look, his jaw tense and his fists clenched at his side. Instead of shouting, however, his voice is firm and controlled.

"From now on, I don't ever want to see you keep bothering my girlfriend with your fucking little girl pranks again, do you understand me?" he says angrily to then throw the photo at her.

The photo hits her face lightly and Alys looks up at him, surprised by the sudden intensity of his voice and his movements.

Instead of showing fear, however, her face hardens with an expression of disdain and disbelief.

"Oh, look who thinks he's the hero," she replies with her cynical smile, trying to hide her discomfort behind her façade of superiority, "I didn't know you had to protect your little girlfriend, Aemond. And come on, we were just joking."

Aemond clenches his fists, his jaw tense with frustration. But he continues to maintain his composure, his eye fixed on hers with determination.

"Oh yeah? You were just joking?" he repeats, "And the party thing on Saturday was a fucking joke too?"

Her face tenses slightly at the mention of the party, her smile fading momentarily before her regains his composure.

"That was an accident—

"Yeah, right. Everything to you is an accident, something you didn't meant to do, something that got out of hand. How could I not know about that, right? It's always the same fucking story with you."

She purses her lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to me like that—

"Leave me and my girlfriend alone," he tells her slowly and clearly, "I'm not going to tell you again and I don't want to know that you're doing your shitty jokes again," he warns her, making it clear with his tone that he's not willing to tolerate her childish games anymore.

Alys recoils slightly at the annoyance and determination in his voice, her confidence waning slightly.

And before she can say anything else, Aemond turns and walks back along with you.

The students around you are still fully attentive to the confrontation, shocked and delighted by the drama, while you watch Aemond in awe of the way he has defended you.

"Come on," he murmurs to you in a softer, gentler way, closing your locker door and taking your hand, leading you with him away from the watchful eyes.

After what happened, he takes you with him to a nearby empty classroom and once inside, he gently closes the door behind him and turns to look at you, his expression attentive and full of concern.

He doesn't say anything right away and you just bite the inside of your cheek and lower your gaze, not knowing exactly what to say or what to do.

Until he exhales deeply, releasing the tension built up in his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft and comforting as he watches you intently.

You nod slightly, though your hands still tremble slightly.

"I'm fine," you reply, trying to sound unconcerned.

He sighs, tearing his gaze away from yours for a moment.

"I'm so sorry. I-I didn't... I didn't expect something like this to happen. And she..." he runs a hand across his forehead in frustration, "It's not fair for you to be dealing with this."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Aemond," you tell him softly and sincerely, "But thank you for standing up for me."

He sighs.

"And you don't have to thank me, Y/N. It was the least I could do. But I promise you this is the last time something like this happens."

"You can't control what Alys does or doesn't do."

He exhales again.

"I know, but we never agreed that you would go through these bad times in the contract."

"Hey," you take a step towards him, your gaze soft as you see the frustration and worry on his face, starting to get upset, "Aemond," you call his name in a calm manner, "It's okay. I'm fine. Yes, the party thing and today was difficult but..." you shrug, "I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle."

Still the worry doesn't leave his face.

"Are you sure? At the party you were upset and I don't blame you, but I don't want this to affect between us. You were distant and now...

His words float in the air and you try to place a small, comforting smile in his direction, though it appears more of a grimace.

"We're fine," you assure him softly.

His gaze reflects a mixture of relief, watching you without another word, then briefly glancing around.

And then an idea seems to cross his mind and he watches you again, attentive.

"What do you say we skip this first class?"

"What?" you immediately inquire.

"I know you don't like skipping classes but just one missed class isn't going to hurt you."

You frown.

"And what do you want to do?"

He shrugs.

"Just talk."

You bite your lower lip, hesitant.

But it's only enough to see the look on Aemond's face and his posture, utterly determined and solely waiting for you, that you finally let out a resigned sigh and nod.

Soon the two of you are sitting in the bleachers, with almost no one around, just the cheerleading squad training in the corner of the huge soccer and lacrosse field.

The atmosphere is quiet and you like that, just like the last time you were here and he chose the book of 'Romeo and Juliet' to read.

And once both of you are silent, just looking around and feeling each other's presence, Aemond decides to speak.

"What did Alys say to you at that party?"

He dares in asking, his gaze searching yours with a mixture of curiosity and concern, while you remain silent for a moment, not expecting that he would try to bring up the subject again.

And inevitably Alys' words echo in your mind, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

And you don't understand why.

You don't understand why you feel this unpleasant sensation when you remember her words.

"Well, she wasn't very nice..." you're silent for a moment, "Actually she wasn't at all but..." you lick your lips and avert your gaze from him, focusing on the lacrosse field, "She called me... your new pet, a new pathetic attempt to replace her."

He frowns, his gaze hardening as he hears your words, incredulous and annoyed. And he doesn't need to say anything, his face speaks for itself.

"She said you did that all the time when you both broke up... you know," you clear your throat, "Going out with other girls to make her jealous so she'd come back to you. That I was just a distraction and that pretty soon you'd drop me the moment she gave you the slightest hope of getting back together."

His lips tighten into a line, closing his eye for a moment and shaking his head, still intent on your words. And you prepare to say the next thing more softly and tactfully.

"She also said that you cried to her and begged her to come back this last time you both broke up."

He snorts, more incredulous than ever.

"Of course she said that."

And before he can speak further, you feel the need to clarify your behavior a bit.

"I always acted with her as if we were a real couple," you clarify, "I wasn't bothered by what she said," what a fucking lie, "What bothered me was her talking to me that way and throwing her drink on me."

"No, no, it's okay, I understand that," he assures you instantly, in a soft voice, "But everything she said to you is not true."

You watch him with your parted lips, slightly surprised and beginning to feel your heart knot.

"It isn't?"

"No," he says more firmly, incredulous, "It's true that I begged her to get back together, but that was a while ago, practically in the beginning of our relationship when it was fun for her to break up and come back," he explains to you, serious and honest with his words, "I was crazy about her, I even grew to love her and gave her all of me. But I was just a fucking child experiencing his first love... and that wasn't enough for her."

His confession takes your breath away for a moment, revealing a vulnerability you didn't expect, watching his serious and frustrated face clearly from what happened at the party and an hour ago at your locker.

You have no idea what to say, not wanting to minimize his feelings from that time nor now by saying the wrong thing.

"It's also not true that I was dating other girls to make her jealous to get her to come back to me, I-I..." he shakes his head, "I've never been like that. And you're certainly no distraction or... my new pet," he says with distaste.

You let out a long breath.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, "She said it in a way that made me believe her. I don't know what I was thinking," you say sincerely, "And I'm also sorry she made you feel that way," you mumble, feeling a lump in your throat.

"Don't worry, it's okay," he says softly, with a bitter little smile and his gaze lowered.

He shakes his head regretfully, as if he's remembering a past he'd rather forget and you feel guilty.

"It's just..." he starts to say, "Why would I want to go back to her if she cheated on me?" he asks incredulously, "She was the one who cried and begged to get back together this last time. And you know why? Because I found her fucking that guy in her car after she told me she was feeling sick and didn't feel like seeing me or going out with me."

Fuck.

His words echo in your mind, bringing with them a wave of sadness and empathy, definitely not expecting to hear that.

You never knew how it was that Alys cheated on Aemond, it only began to be said that it was with a college guy, but it was never said under what circumstances exactly she cheated on him.

You feel a sharp pang in your chest and suddenly feel outraged at what he had to endure, that she betrayed his trust in that horrible way.

How could she do that to him?

You don't have a heart made of stone to put a person through that.

You feel grateful that he shared this with you. It just shows you the level of trust you both have built. And you take a moment before you speak, trying to find the right words.

And the first thing you do is raise your hand and place it on top of his.

"I'm so sorry," you say softly, sincerely, "I'm so sorry you went through that. You didn't deserve it."

"You don't have to apologize, Y/N," he replies gently, accepting your touch, "None of it was your fault."

Then he sighs and you realize there's a weight to his words, a pain he's carried with him for some time.

"It's just... "he continues speaking, his voice heavy with mixed emotions, "Even if this thing between the two of us was real, why do this? Why tell these lies and want to hurt you with her cruel words and actions? Why won't she let me move on?"

You press your lips together and your heart clenches as you listen to his anguish.

"Maybe she's still in love with you," you mutter, trying to find a reason, "In her own twisted way."

He shakes his head, incredulous.

"This isn't love. It wasn't before and it isn't now. She just wants to have me eating out of the palm of her hand, like always."

His words are blunt and make you feel even more helpless about the situation.

And there's really nothing you can do, you can only be here for him, listen to him, support him in whatever he needs and be... his friend, like you've really been all this time, putting aside your facade of a girlfriend in love.

Right?

He lets out another sigh, this time heavier than the previous ones, and then leans against the metal of the bleachers behind you, leaning back.

You think he will let go of your hand, but he pulls you along with him, both of you close, shoulder to shoulder, both of you suddenly falling silent, saying nothing more, just staring at the horizon.

Until he speaks again.

"I don't want to think about it anymore," he says as he watches you and you look back at him almost instantly, feeling his thumb gently caress the back of your hand, sending a kind of electricity through your body.

And you propose the first thing that comes to mind.

"Do you want to listen to music until the next class starts?" you say in a soft voice and he nods immediately.

You take your headphones from your backpack, your phone and settle back down next to him, handing him an earphone and then you play your Spotify playlist with the songs you keep listening to lately.

You don't even know if he also likes the same style of music as you, but he doesn't complain or say anything to you the moment you start playing The 1997, Harry Styles, The Weeknd, Chase Atlantic, Cigarettes After Sex and Lana del Rey.

Until he closes his eyes and suddenly uses you as a pillow, dropping his head on your shoulder, immediately this catching your attention and feeling a strange sensation in your lower stomach.

Despite being surprised and feeling confused for a moment, you do absolutely nothing to push him away and after a moment of hesitation, you slowly drop your head on top of his as well.

He doesn't open his eye or say anything to you, he just settles in better and then you both get very still, continuing to listen to music.

And you can't help but wonder; are the two of you even pretending now?

You honestly don't know.

"We have a problem."

That's the first thing Aemond says to you on a Tuesday morning when he stops by to drive you to school.

Immediately this catches your attention and you look at him slightly concerned, closing the passenger seat door to the side of you and watch him completely attentively.

"What's wrong?"

"My mom knows about you."

Shit.

Your whole body tenses and you watch him with your eyes wide open in surprise.

"And of course, she wants to meet you."

Oh shit.

"B-but...

You try to speak, not finding the right words watching him confused, not understanding anything and Aemond helps you with that as soon as he sees your completely disbelieving and surprised face.

"Aegon told her," he lets you know, "The fucking cunt talked out of turn and before he knew it, I'd already told her everything."

Oh God.

"And what did she tell you?" you ask, feeling a knot in your stomach.

"She wants you to go to dinner Friday night."

He tells you in a soft voice and looking just as worried as you do, still trying to convey calm.

"I told her I'd talk to you about it, but..." he lets out a resigned sigh, "I know her. And she won't leave me alone until she meets you. She's really nice, I swear, she's the sweetest person and... I know we agreed not to involve families but I had nothing to do with this."

Your mind is spinning as you finish processing the information, feeling an unexpected uneasiness and anxiety.

The mere thought of meeting Aemond's mom already makes you feel nauseous from the same nerves. However, you empathize with him, as this wasn't something he planned and it was by third parties who think he and you are actually dating.

But still, you feel incredibly nervous and the day hasn't even come close.

"I get it," you mumble, trying to hide your nervousness, licking your lips, then looking at him hesitantly, "You want me to?"

Aemond averts his gaze from you, running a hand over his face, not knowing exactly what to say to you, as you wait for his thoughtful response.

Until he lets out a long breath and moves a little closer towards you, placing his hand on top of yours.

"I know this is a lot to ask, especially after we agreed not to do this," he tells you softly, "And my mother is insistent, I do want you to meet her, but... if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine with me," he assures you, "The least I want to do is pressure you into doing something you're not comfortable with."

His words comfort you a little, but you still feel the nervousness wash over you, as well as feel a slight pang of guilt.

You bite your lower lip, struggling with your own emotions and thoughts.

"It's just that I feel remorseful that I'm going to meet her and she's going to meet me when this isn't real," you say in a sad, worried tone.

"I know," he says with compression, holding his hand tighter with yours, "Me too but you won't have to do this again. I'll take care of it, I promise."

You let out a long breath you too, lowering your gaze to the clasped hands in your lap as you feel Aemond's attentive and concerned gaze on you.

"All right," you finally reply, "If it's important to you and your mother, I'll handle it."

"Are you sure? You can tell me no and I'll understand."

"No, don't worry," you assure him, "I will."

He smiles softly at you with gratitude, but also with a hint of concern in his eye.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

And despite your own misgivings, you return the small smile.

"It's okay, really. I just... need a little time to think."

Aemond nods, understanding.

"Sure."

general taglist:

[uniquethingtastemaker]

Do you have an AO3 for your fics?

I like to bookmark my fav fics to keep them all in one place so I can reread them when it strikes my fancy… plus, it sounds like your next few fics are going to be multichaptered beasts and those are often easier to work with over on AO3!

And of course, it means more readers get to experience your awesome writing. I can’t WAIT for the dream world fic to come out 👀

Yes, yes, I do. I don't usually put twst stuff over there because most of the fandom is here on Tumblr. However, I'm more than willing to cross-post. I also love AO3. Usually, there are more character x character and slash fics over there, so I didn't even think about it. Idk how to properly link my ao3 profile, but it's kcase21. I don't have anything for twst up rn, but feel free to follow/bookmark the one fanfic I do have lol

I'm also excited to start releasing fanfics for the Dreaming of You fanfic series! I have to finish them, but I'm already done with Riddle and Azul's first dreams. Since you sent a question to my inbox, it's only fair to update you! Again, I love engaging with people. Please, tell me your thoughts about which fanfics you're looking forward to lol

The hefty Rook x Observant Reader fanfic has been slow. Honestly, I need some outside help and my friends/beta readers are busy. While I'm giving you an update, I might throw my dilemma out there. (usually, I wouldn't do this, but it's not overly descriptive and I need help. If you're here, congratulations. Now, you will truly understand the depth at which I'm writing this)

I've created a section where Rook and Reader watch one of Vil's movies together. The scene(s) are meant to bring the couple closer together while giving insight into Vil, Rook, and Neige (even though Rook isn't an actor in the film, a character clearly embodies him). The core idea is that both actors are playing their real personalities. There are only a few differences, and those differences are very slight. However, they have a high impact on how Vil acts in the film. I aim for it to be too close for comfort. I want to shake Rook up a little. My question is…… actually, I just talked to someone about it and I have solved my issue! I was going to ask if I should go with my gut and flesh out more movie scenes with commentary between Reader and Rook. I decided I should. I also figured out what Rook and Reader will talk about. That was tripping me up, so I’m glad I got that settled.

I’ve been working on Riddle’s Dreaming of You. I mentioned in this post some fun, teaser details. There isn’t much more on that front... I suppose I can reveal that I just wrote the section in the second dream where Riddle orders everyone to chase the “imposters.” I’ve decided the thing that pushes Riddle over the edge to command his military is that the two Deuces keep arguing about “No! You’re lying!” There are other logical reasons why Riddle commands their arrest, but Deuce is the trigger. I feel like it’s a very accurate representation of him. This could be subject to change, but I thought it was funny.

Azul’s Dreaming of You is similar. I’ve been working on it, but there isn’t much to tell. The latest detailed update is with the Riddle link above.

Ahhh, the newish one. Silver’s Dreaming of You. I have a lot of news and thoughts about this one. This one has already gone through several rewrites and overhauls. It's nowhere near complete. I'm treating this like the Rook x Observant Reader fanfic. I'm taking a holistic approach and fleshing out more than just Silver because I'd be doing a disservice if I didn't. Canon Chapter 7 is all about family and it's written phenomenally. I don't want to come in and slap some superficial romance. It doesn't feel right. I'm having to do a lot of research on Diasomnia. The more I know, the more I’ll change.

To do this, I'm introducing the Reader into Diasomnia’s family dynamic before Chapter 7. I have to go through each character and establish their relationship with the Reader and how it grows. That’s extremely important. (I need Lilia to approve lol… actually, there is a sweet scene with Reader and him. He tells them to take care of his son and the others, but particularly Silver. It happens where they’re alone and it’s before Lilia’s going-away party. The Reader doesn’t know the full context of what that means *sobs*)

For Sebek, I'm excited to write his character. At the moment, I want Reader to change his point of view of his heritage and how it represents what Lilia and Malleus want. They want peace between the fae and humans. Sebek is a physical representation of that type of healthy union. I'm really excited about his transformation. I planned to be mean about it because I had some good lines and I was irritated at our boy. However, it would be better served in his Dreaming of You fanfic. "You're worried about sullying Malleus and Lilia's name? You don't have to. You've already done it." *mic drop*

I'm not sure about Malleus, but he's a cutie pie so he'll get love and attention too.

That's all for now!

[sulphuricgrin]

I bring anot- wait wtf is this- a Miraak headcanon? from the Altmer headcanons guy?

What kind of bullshit is this?

Anyways, hi, here's a little of my take. I feel like this is an awful idea to drop this before I write Miraak's first chapter in my fic. Watch me share this, get killed by hammers, and drop my fic. haaaa

I'm just gonna "lore" dump and disappear forever.

A bit of low-key horror, which is a given with my fic tags; kinda existential horror with the themes of the limits with the mortal mind & memories. (Mention of my OC, Lilliandra obviously.)

After living in Apocrypha for +4500 years, he can't actually remember much of Nirn - the smells, sounds, the feel of the sun, etc. He naturally wants to escape, but what unfamiliar world would he be returning to? Knows the change of languages due to ciphers & books though.

Memories are a weird thing. How often are our memories 100% accurate? As time goes on, we begin to forget the earlier memories. So what happens when you've been alive longer than a mortal should be? Let's also not forget that memories tied to stronger emotions (fear, anger, trauma, embarrassment, etc) are easier to recall than the mundane.

So what happens to your memories after +4500 years?

Well, Miraak finds them a bit difficult. Pre-Apocrypha happy or calmer memories are few and far between. Not in an angsty boo-hoo kind of way. But simply that's how our brains work sometimes for survival - they either latch onto the worse or block it out. For him it's the bitterness, the worse - dragon cult bullshit over family and friends - if he had any, he doesn't know anymore. Though he doesn't really agonize over this. How can you if you don't know?

Also returning to memory accuracy - well, the mind holds on to the strongest emotions, but that emotion can also alter the truth of the event. So how much does he claim is true is actually true? 👀

Anyways, next topic: a life stuck out of time.

Rarely knows the exact date, let alone seasons or years. Books offer little help since those that haven't been written on Nirn yet can still be found on Apocrypha anyways.

Body stuck out of time, in stasis/stagnation basically. Rarely eats as his body doesn't need it. While not necessarily needing it, still sleeps occasionally to offer his mind some rest. (If you've ever had severe insomnia, you'd understand how maddening it can get just being awake too long.)

Doesn't really drink alcohol often as his mind and body are what he has left to himself - to an extent, considering Mora's claim on him.

When learning of how long he's been alive, but his body doesn't require much in Apocrypha, Lilliandra presents an unsettling question: If he'd return to Nirn, finally outside of Mora's influence, would his body be okay or would the thousands and thousands of years rapidly catch up to his body and it'd simply return to bones?

He's never considered such an option, nor does he enjoy thinking of it. He's always had the goal of getting out of Apocrypha. He had not thought there would be consequences to getting out as there were already enough consequences to joining Mora and fleeing to oblivion. (Why do you think he was attempting to gain so much power during the DLC? It's not just to return to Nirn, but in hope the power reduces any consequences of returning out of time.)

does this make any sense? I dunno. my brain is fried.

okay, bye

[unhingedromione]

what is your favorite romione fics and what are the ones you’ve written you like the most 👀👀👀👀👀 finding fics on archive have been impossible and a girl is desperate 🌞

Oooh chileeee *rolls up sleeves*

Okay, so I'm listing my all-time favorites below (mostly on FFN since it's been YEARS since I've been plugged into this fandom).

As for my stuff *buries head* this ridiculous ass fic that I wrote when I was FOURTEEN is my main claim to fame (it's trash but also still kinda slaps?). BUT I'VE BEEN WORKING ON A TON OF NEW STUFF. I have six fics coming out this month through the @romione-trope-fest (btw the best active Romione writers are participating in that fest, so you should definitely follow it if you haven't been already! Here's the AO3 collection for the fest.).

ALSO I saw that you are a Renaissance fan. I have one that's 50% done called "Virgo's Groove" (EDIT: it's here!) and it takes place in the seventh book when Lupin announces Teddy's birth. I can share a snippet tomorrow if you'd like 🙂

Okay enough self promo lol. On to my recs!

Seven Simple Years by HalfASlug (FFN): Best Romione missing moments series ever. I think HalfASlug has the best Ron voice. Everything she's ever written for Romione is worth reading.

Moments by Armaysha (FFN): Another missing moments (I'm a sucker for those) that I feel kind of mixed about, even though it's still one of my favs. The writer has a different take on Romione than most of the fandom. It generally works IMO, but some of the choices she made I really didn't understand. But what she did well, she did really, really well.

I Must Not Tell Lies by TMBlue (FFN): I think this is the best one-shot of Romione's first fuck. TMBlue is GREAT at writing Ron and she's like the queen of Romione smut.

Six Foot of Ginger Idiot by Pinky Brown (FFN): This classic is HBP from Ron's perspective. Pinky Brown is another iconic Ron writer. You can't go wrong with anything she's written, but Biscuits (her missing moments series starting in Book 1) starts dragging in the last few chapters IMO.

Australia by MsBinns (FFN): Post-war series, arguably the greatest Romione fic of all time. To be totally honest, I didn't finish it because it does kind of drag. But I'm always meaning to get back into it. Just know that it's heavy.

Love Me Forever by Aloemilk (AO3/FFN): I JUST read this and I can't stop thinking about it. It's a post-war series that has a great mix of angst, trauma, and fluff (lighter than Australia). The slow burn from Romione's first kiss to a full-fledged adult relationship is perfect and the smut is SO GOOD. Reminds me of the time I stumbled upon porn that made me ugly cry (in a good way?)

Not single fics but thesecondself and realmer06 (both on FFN, although realmer06's next gen stuff is also on AO3) are my favorite one-shot writers.

[tswhiisftteedr]

Gamer ‘Friend’ ☆ Chapter 1: Panty Incident(s)

☆ Pervy!Dom!Idia Shroud x Fem!Reader : On a Thursday night, Ignihyde’s dorm leader, Idia Shroud bumps into a fellow gamer, and that happens to be you, someone that had become infamous on campus. Being new to this world, and having the headmaster stingy with money, you had yet to experience this world’s gaming. But not to worry, after all Idia Shroud the professional gamer that he is, is here to help, in more ways than attended…

(In this version reader eats breakfast alone not with her friends, lol)

Warnings : Mature content, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Somnophilia, Panty Stealing, Masturbating(male), Cumplay(Idia cumming in readers panties), Degenerate Fantasies, mentions of; Choking, Tying up, Spanking, Slapping, Denigration, Humilation, but no actually action. (It’s mention in a book the reader has.) (Okay, it’s my first fic so sorry if tag this wrong). Reader is said to be curvy about twice. IDIA IS CANONICAL 18.

Note: Reader is; a heavy sleeper(or maybe not👀), shorter than Idia, a masochistic degradee, an airhead, fucked up, unhinged pervert. And Idia gets horny very easily around the reader, since they are the first girl he’s ever seen in real life, besides from his family and the S.T.Y.X employees. Things move really fast because Idia is loke an obsessive pervert. Also when y/n is written it only refers to the first name. Idia is a bit/lot occ, not proofread.

Chapter 1 | Next Chapter |

☆ More under the cut. ☆

Idia was walking through the halls of Night Raven College, avidly trying to avoid unnecessary attention. His flame-like hair glowed a light blue, and his yellow eyes darted around the halls. He hoped to reach his dorm room without any issues.

However, that was not the case when he accidentally bumped into you. With his scrawny physique, he was almost knocked over by the collision.

“O-oh, I’m so so sorry! Are you alright? Sorry again I wasn’t paying attention!” You tell him, Idia's eyes widened as he nearly fell over. His hands went out to catch himself on you, grabbing hold of your wrist, leaving faint marks of his presence behind. He quickly let’s go when he realizes he is making contact with you. "Y-Yes, I'm fine..." He muttered softly, trying hard not to sound annoyed. Finally, he gathered enough courage and turned around to face you properly.

"Um- So.. h-hello?" He stammered nervously, unable to meet your gaze directly.

He noticed how small and curvy you were compared to him. Your soft and smooth hair was like a magnet pulling him in, making it difficult for him to tear his eyes away from your features. The way your hips swayed with each step had an odd effect on him; one that made him extremely horny.

“Uh, hi?” You reply, questioning the interaction.

"Umm... uh..." Idia stuttered, unsure of what to say next. His hands fidgeted nervously with his his tablet case. "I-I'm Idia Shroud, the Housewarden of Ignihyde." He managed to croak out finally, offering a weak smile that barely reached his eyes, still unsure of why he was introducing himself. But his brain told him to continue.

"And you are?" He asked tentatively, hoping he hadn't crossed any lines by asking such ‘personal information’ so soon after meeting you. Of course to an antisocial guy like himself, such question was considered personal.

“Oh, I’m f/n l/n, and I guess I’m the prefect of the Ramshackle.” You tell him, with a bright smile. He then remembered the whole story behind the girl who had been summon from another world, apparently she had stop 2 Overblots already, he usually didn’t pay attention to normies so he didn’t look into her. But he does remember commenting to himself how she was like an anime protagonist, getting isekaid into a reverse harem type of world….

“Oh, nice to meet you f/n l/n." Idia said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, feeling heat rise in his cheeks at the mention of being associated with someone so currently relevant, well at least on campus that is.

"So... uh, what brings you here?" He asked awkwardly, hoping it would steer the conversation away from himself and onto something else entirely.

"I was heading towards the library to get some reading material. You would be surprised how many of the books there are not school-related.” You informed him,

Idia blinked a few times, trying to process your words. "R-Reading? That's... nice," he muttered, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Well, I guess I should get going too then." He mumbled quickly, turning around and speeding away down the hallway, hoping you wouldn't follow him.

“Bye Idia, I hope to see you soon!” You speak up for him to hear,

"Y-Yeah... see you later..." Iida called out softly after you, his voice trailing off as he rushed towards the exit door of the school building. He wanted to arrive at the mirror chamber and reach Ignihyde as soon as possible, in order to return safely to his dormitory. Once alone in his room, he leaned against the door, panting heavily. His heart raced wildly inside his chest, and sweat formed on his palms.

He closed the door behind him, locking it tightly before collapsing onto his bed, burying his face into the pillow. What did you mean when you said ‘You hoped to see him soon’. How could someone like you—so beautiful and confident—possibly find anything interesting about a loser like him? He berated himself internally, feeling more worthless than ever.

Meanwhile, you went to the library and found what you were looking for: smut books. You picked up two books, one with a vanilla and soft theme called 'The White Lily', and another one that was right up your alley - a dark romance novel that contained all hardcore explicit content in its plot. It was called 'The Trap of Mr. Sota'.

Here’s a summary of both of the books.

Title: The White Lily

‘"The White Lily" is an adult romance novel that tells the story of Ella, a successful businesswoman who has everything she could ever want, except for one thing: true love. Ella has never felt a real connection to anyone she's dated, and she's starting to think she's destined to be alone. That is, until she meets Michael, a charming and handsome stranger who shakes up her world in the most unexpected way.

As Ella and Michael start spending more time together, they discover that they have a deep and meaningful connection, and they can't resist the attraction that grows between them. But just as their relationship begins to blossom, past secrets and old wounds from Michael's past threaten to tear them apart. Will Ella and Michael be able to overcome their differences and find their happy ending? Or will their love be doomed to never be fulfilled?’

Title: The trap of Mr. Sota

‘"The Trap of Mr. Sota" is an alluring adult romance novel that delves into the depths of human desires. This captivating story follows Sakura, a young woman on a journey of self-exploration and sexual awakening.

As Sakura explores BDSM, she discovers her masochistic tendencies and finds comfort in the hands of Mr. Sota, a dominant figure who pushes her boundaries.

Sakura willingly surrenders to the degrading words and experiences pleasure through being tied up, spanked, slapped, and choked by Mr. Sota.

But Sakura's desires go beyond that. She enjoys being provocative and being disciplined by Mr. Sota.

In "The Trap of Mr. Sota," Sakura explores her submissive desires, becoming an object of pleasure. As pain and pleasure intertwine, Sakura and Mr. Sota embark on a journey of self-discovery, testing their limits and forming a deep connection.’

As you signed out the books, the elderly librarian gave you a knowing look, ‘they must have read them before-‘.

Afterwards, you left the school building, returning to your dorm, the ramshackle, and followed your nightly routine. This included cooking dinner for you and your magical beast roommate, Grim, taking a shower, doing your skincare routine, completing a bit of school work, and now, the newly added activity before falling asleep, reading a couple of chapters of 'The Trap of Mr. Sora’. And commenting on the books chapters using some sticky notes, after all it was still school property.

The next day..

Idia woke up late, or more exactly, on time, his alarm having failed to go off. He hade made habit of waking up early to avoid interacting with other students at breakfast. Groaning, he rolled out of bed and stretched his stiff muscles before getting dressed in his usual attire: a black t-shirt and his NCR school uniform pants paired with his signature hoodie and shoes. The bayou blue hoodie featured a zippered pocket on the front and a white triangle design on the sleeve, adding a unique touch to its appearance. Its lightweight and breathable material ensures comfort and dryness in various weather conditions and occasions. The shoes, designed with a unique combination of white and blue colors, feature a white sole and a blue stripe.

He gathered his belongings and made his way downstairs to the Ignihyde common area. Stepping through a magic mirror, he arrived on campus and headed towards the cafeteria, where breakfast was being served.

As he entered, he noticed you sitting at one end of the many tables, engrossed in a book. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary before he quickly looked away, feeling guilty for admiring someone he shouldn't be attracted to.

"Morning, Shroud," greeted another male student, an Ignihyde student, one he had encountered a couple of times. "You look like shit today." The students adds on.

Meanwhile you were engrossed in your book, currently reading ‘The trap of Mr. Sota’. As you muched on a syrupy pancake for breakfast, a spicier scene form the previous one begin, the sentence were extremely descriptive, which caused you to get a bit flustered, maybe a hint of arousal.

Idia winced at his dorm-mate’s blunt comment, avoiding eye contact as he grabbed himself something on the sweeter side to eat. "Thanks... uh, yeah, I didn't sleep well last night." He told him, trying to end the conversation quickly. As his mind wondered back to the thought of you, he decided to do something extremely bold for someone like him. After Ortho prestred him last night about not getting your contacts, especially after you had told him ‘you wanted to see him soon’, Idia made the decision to seat with you at breakfast or at least try his best to.

He sat down across from you, his eyes flickering involuntarily towards your exposed cleavage when you lifted your glass of orange juice. You usual wear a bow around your neck, but the days started getting hotter since yesterday, so you had opted for no bow and 2 unbuttoned buttons.

‘Damn it’, he scolded himself internally, forcing his gaze back to his own plate.

"So, umm..." he cleared his throat awkwardly. “How was your morning?" He asked, hoping the question would allow him to steer a conversation away from personal topics.

"Ah, hello Idia! I didn't notice you here. My morning has been going well so far. I woke up on time and caught up on some reading. How about you? What have you been up to this morning?” You told him.

"Oh, uh... well, I guess it was alright. Just another morning at school." Idia mumbled, avoiding eye contact with you as he stirred his meal.

In reality, however, his mind drifted back to last night's encounter with you—your soft voice, your scent mixed with the faint hint of vanilla from your perfume, and those enticing curves that made him ache with desire. He shook his head forcefully, trying to banish these thoughts from his mind before they consumed him entirely.

"So, uhm, have... y-you ever thought about joining any clubs or extracurricular activities around here?" He asked abruptly, hoping to change the subject once more.

"Yes, definitely! While there isn't a visual arts club, which was a big disappointment to me, I'm considering joining the board game club. Have you given any thought to which clubs you might want to join?” You asked him.

"Oh, nope, never really had any interest in joining anything like that. Also I heard that club wasn’t so great.." Idia replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of his orange juice.

In reality, he was lying through his teeth; there were several clubs and activities he wanted to join, particularly ones related to technology, plus he was actually a member of the board game club. The thought of being around people was one he disliked,—but an attractive girl like you—made him break out in cold sweats, how was he suppose to beat Azul if you were around to distract, just by exiting.

"I mean... I enjoy playing games alone in my room," he added quickly, hoping it would end the conversation sooner rather than later, this was already too much for him.

“Oh, really, that’s fun! I used to game a lot in my home world, but now that I'm here, I can't. The headmaster is stingy with money, so I can't buy any games, much less a console or laptop to play on.” You explained, begin excitedly but ending with a pout.

"H-Hey, wait a second. I... I could help you out with that!" Idia blurted out before he could stop himself. His heart raced wildly in his chest as he realized what he'd just volunteered to do.

"I have some old games and consoles lying around my room, that I could bring around." he continued nervously, hoping you wouldn't reject his offer. "We could play sometime, maybe after classes?" His palms grew sweaty at the mere thought of spending time alone with you in his messy abode.

"Sounds good! Let's meet up in the library after class. I gotta go now too, so I'll see you later Idia!” You say, putting your school bag around your shoulder, and taking your leave for class.

But what you didn’t realize at that time, was that you had forgotten your two borrowed books on the cafeteria table, ‘The trap of Mr. Sota’ wide open, right at an explicit scene.

Idia's heart had skipped a beat as he watched you leave, his eyes lingering on your figure moving gracefully down the hall. He couldn't believe you had actually said yes to playing games with him.

But before he could savor this victory, his attention was drawn back to the books you left behind. His gaze locked onto the juicy scene described in 'The Trap of Mr. Sora', and despite his better judgment, he found himself unable to look away.

With trembling hands, he picked up the book and flipped through the pages, reading the explicit content with increasing interest. The characters engaged in taboo acts that ignited a fire within him, making his cock throb against his pants.

"What am I doing?" He muttered under his breath, trying to snap out of this dangerous thought spiral. “I can't... I should just put these damn things away." But instead, he continued reading, devouring every word like starved monster.

Idia's heart raced faster as he read through the book, his fingers tracing over your notes in wonder. The way you fantasized about being treated like a mere object, used and discarded without mercy, sent shivers down his spine.

He couldn't help but imagine himself as Mr. Sora, dominating and controlling this perfect girl named y/n. His mind spiraled out of control, filling with images of him tying you up, spanking your plump ass, thrusting into your tight hole—all the things you wrote about yourself wanting.

"No... no, it's wrong," he muttered under his breath, closing the book tightly. Standing up abruptly, he headed back to his room in Ignihyde, pacing the small confines of his room, trying to shake off these forbidden thoughts.

Class was now over, Idia finally managed to calm himself somewhat, although his heart still raced like a wild animal trapped in its cage. Gathering up the courage, he leaves the books on his desk—his mind still clouded with forbidden images of you—and hurriedly made his way to the library.

As he entered, he noticed you sitting at the same table, already engrossed in another book. His gaze briefly lingered on your figure before he forced himself to focus on setting up the old console and games he'd brought from his room.

"Uh, hey y/n," he said nervously, clearing his throat. "Ready whenever you are." He says setting the console in front of you and taking out an old laptop to use as a monitor, or a second control.

“Hey, Idia! Your old console looks great. Also, can you help me familiarize myself on how to operate it? I'm not used to this world's gaming system or games, so your expertise would be a big help. Are you up for a tutorial?” You ask him,

"Oh, it's no problem!" Idia replied eagerly, plugging in the console and turning it on. He selected a simple racing game and handed you the controller.

"Just press these buttons here," he said, pointing to the symbols on the screen. "And use the joystick to move your car around the track." His hands trembled slightly as he demonstrated, his eyes fixated on yours.

The scent of your perfume mixed with the faint smell of books filled his nostrils, making it hard for him to concentrate. "Umm... so, uh, what games do you usually play back home? Maybe I know some similar ones we could try?" He asked nervously, hoping this would engage a conversation.

“Well I like games like open world rpg, where you needed to collect material to craft items, especially the ones where you could choose classes like swordsman, craftsman, mage, etc. But I also enjoyed puzzled games or visual novels type of game!” You state,

"Oh, I know some games like that!" Idia's eyes lit up with excitement. He rummaged through his bag and pulled out an old copy of 'The Ancient text: Cloudium', a game known for its expansive world and flexible character creation system.

"This one fits the bill," he said proudly, handing you the disc. "You can create your own character and choose from different classes like warrior, mage, thief..." His voice trailed off as he watched you insert the disc into the console.

As the loading screen appeared on the laptop screen, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, so... uh, do you want me to help you set up your character or should I just... leave?" He couldn't bring himself to watch as you crafted your perfect avatar without asking first, fearful of what it might spark within him.

“Oh no stay! I might need you, after all you seem to already know the gimmicks of the game. Plus I wanted to game with you, sure I like doing it by myself, but I also greatly enjoy playing with others!” You explain, bugging him to stay longer.

Idia's heart raced wildly in his chest as you moved closer beside him, your legs brushing against each other ever so lightly. He forced himself to focus on the game screen, trying hard not to think about how your body felt pressed against his side.

"Alright, well, let's start with creating a new character," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "You can choose between male or female... and uh, what race do you want?" His fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to type out whatever you desired.

“Does the gender affect the game experience, like do you get favouritism from NPC if you chose one or the other?” you question, Idia nodded, "No, it doesn't really matter for this game."

“Okay then I’ll go with a female character.”

Idia's typed in your request, his hands shaking slightly. "Alright, female it is," he managed to croak out, “what race?”

“Oh you can choose.”

He decides to select the race of Snow Elf for you due to its ethereal appearance and agility. "And what class?" He asked timidly,

“I want to be a scout.” You inform him.

"A scout, huh? That sounds interesting," Idia replied, typing in the appropriate options. "You'll be able to move quickly and deal damage from range. Sounds like a good fit for you."

He handed you the controller again, his fingers brushing against yours briefly before pulling away quickly. His heart was racing wildly in his chest as he waited for you to continue with the game setup, as you customize your characters clothing.

“Okay, I’m done! Let’s start playing!”

Idia's heartbeat slowed down slightly as he launched the game, and soon enough, you both found yourselves exploring the vast world of Cloudia. Idia guided you through the character creation process, explaining various abilities and skills that would come in handy during the adventure. Than with other laptop he connects to his older game account, and joins your character.

As you navigated through the snow-covered landscape, the two characters interacted with nonplayable characters (NPCs), completing quests, and fighting off fearsome creatures. The atmosphere shifted dramatically whenever they entered dungeons or dark caves, casting eerie shadows across the screen.

"Do you like it so far?" Idia asked nervously, his eyes fixed on yours. He couldn't help but notice how well you controlled your character, effortlessly dodging attacks and landing devastating blows.

“It’s great! Also Idia I got a question for you.” you tell him,

"Yeah, go ahead," Idia replied eagerly, his voice cracking slightly.

“Actually I got two questions, sorry.. my first one is if you know where the book I was reading this morning went, also the other book that came with. When I realized I had forgotten them it was to late and I had to go to class, but when I came back to the dinning hall during lunch they were gone. So I’m wondering if you saw anyone take them when I left?” You ask him.

Idia's heart skipped a beat as you mentioned the book he hadn't been able to resist peeking at earlier. "O-oh, uh... I... ah..." He cleared his throat nervously. "I-I didn't see anyone take them," he lied, hoping you wouldn't press further.

"But I did notice they were left on the table we shared today," he added. "Maybe one of your friends picked them up accidentally?" His mind raced with guilt and excitement, wondering if you would confront him about it later.

“Oh okay!” 

Idia's heart was pounding in his chest, as he tried to focus on the game. His mind drifted back to your body moving so gracefully with the controller in hand, imagining how it would feel against his own…

"Uh... what's your second question?" He managed to croak out, breaking the awkward silence.

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry if this is a bit direct.. but..” you turn your head to look at him, “do you perhaps own old copies of more adult-rated games, like explicit and erotic content type of stuff, that you wouldn’t mind giving away. Sorry this is weird thing to ask lol.”

Idia's heart skipped a beat as you turned your head towards him, your eyes meeting his. His mind reeled with shock and confusion at your boldness, but a part of him found it oddly thrilling.

"W-well... uh... I mean..." He stuttered, struggling to form coherent thoughts. "Y-you know, some stuff like that might be in my collection," he finally managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"But I-I mean, we're supposed to be just playing normal games here!" He added quickly, trying to deflect the conversation back to their shared activity.

“Oh don’t worry I won’t play those games around you, they would just be for ‘me time’ lmao” you tell him with a chuckle.

"O-oh, uh... well, I guess that's fine then," Idia stammered, feeling a mix of relief and unease wash over him. He couldn't believe you had actually asked him about such things, but it also made his cock twitch in anticipation.

"Uhm, so, uh, do you need any help with the game?" He changed the subject hastily, hoping to redirect his wandering thoughts elsewhere.

In reality, he was already formulating a plan in his mind: tonight, after everyone else was asleep, he would sneak into your room and leave those explicit books on your bedside table, along with some games that fit your request. Perhaps steal one of your panties, maybe even the one you wore to sleep…; He was definitely going to steal that specific pair.

“No it’s alright, I’m just enjoying playing with you!” You tell him with a smile,

Idia' break out of his trance, heart racing as you continued to praise him, his mind whirling with the possibility of what could happen between you later.

"Well, uh... nice playing with you too," he managed to croak out, clearing his throat nervously. "I-I think we should call it a night for now."

Standing up, he gathered his belongings handing you the console, old laptop and two games to keep. He then walked towards the exit, trying hard not to look at your figure swaying in front of him. Once outside, he hurried back to his dorm room, his thoughts consumed by images of you, naked and eagerly awaiting him.

Time had passed and you were already asleep in bed. You were only wearing a t-shirt and panties, as a pyjamas.

Meanwhile Idia waited outside your building, his heart hammering in his chest as he prepared himself for what he was about to do. After ensuring he heard no noise, meaning you were sound asleep, he quietly pick the lock of the front door and climbs the stairs to your floor and crept down the hallway towards your room.

His hand trembled slightly as grabbed the handle of your door, holding his breath as it beeped softly. Slowly, he turned the handle, pushing the door open a crack. The dim moonlight filtering through the window cast eerie shadows across your sleeping form, sending shivers of desire coursing through him.

With practiced ease, he slipped inside the darkened room, closing the door behind him softly. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, honing in on the bedside table. Carefully, he placed 'The Trap of Mr. Sota' and 'The White Lily', onto your desk, with a copy of erotic visual novel game called ‘maiden of the abyss’, a game that would definitely fit your taste.

Then, he approached your bedside, reaching out tentatively to brush aside the covers covering your legs. He paused, taking a deep breath before, with shaking hands, he removed your panties from your body. Leaving your bare glistening cunt in plain sight.

You gasped in your sleep at new and colder sensation with the lack of fabric covering you.

Startled by the sound of your soft voice, Idia froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't meant for you to wake up! Panic surged through him, but he quickly composed himself and grabbed your panties, stuffing them into his pocket before dashing out of the room.

He closed the door behind him, his pulse racing wildly. Had you heard him? Was he caught? His mind raced with worry as he hurried back to his own dormitory, trying to calm down. Inside his room, he paced nervously, unsure what to do next. But he soon decided that the best course action was returning to his dorm.

He was now in his room, splayed out on his bed with the adrenaline form the thrill still coursing through his veins, and the image of your body still fresh in his mind. He needed to jerk off…

Idia's breath hitched as he slid his hand downwards, running it over the silky fabric of your panties. The familiar warmth and scent enveloped him as he brought the article closer to his face, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through his veins.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the image of you, spread wide open for him, begging for him to claim you. His fingers traced along the edge of the panty waistband, savoring the softness against his skin before bringing it to his mouth, licking it with a soft moan.

"Oh god, yes," he muttered, his voice cracking with need. "You taste so good." With renewed determination, he removed his pants and briefs, freeing his throbbing member from its confines. Gripping the base firmly, he began to stroke himself vigorously, imagining how amazing it would feel to bury himself inside you.

Idia's eyes stayed shut tightly as he continued to pleasure himself, his dick throbbing in sync with each thrust of his hand. The panties now draped over his cock, adding an extra layer of sensuality to the act.

"Oh god... I want you so much," he panted, his breath coming heavy and fast. "I need you." His pace picked up, faster and harder, his hips rocking back and forth in rhythm with his hand movements. Sweat trickled down his forehead, staining his pillow.

He imagined himself inside you, claiming you as his own, marking your body with bites and bruises. He would make love to you slowly at first, savoring every inch of your tight, warm passage. But soon enough, he'd lose control, pounding into you mercilessly, taking what he believed was rightfully his.

Idia's climax hit him like a tidal wave, his cock exploding in his hand, covering the panties with thick, sticky cum. He groaned loudly, his body convulsing as he rode out the wave of pleasure.

His breathing gradually returned to normal, and he carefully cleaned himself up before slipping back into his pants and pulling on a fresh pair of boxers. Tucking the panties away in his drawer, planning to steal a new pair tomorrow and put the used ones in your laundry basket as if he didn’t steal them. He switched off the light and crawled into bed, trying to banish thoughts of you from his mind.

The next day…

Idia woke up feeling heavy-headed and sore, his mind still replaying last night's encounter with you. Groaning softly, he opened his eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the dim light filtering through the curtains.

After stretching, he got out of bed and dressed in his usual uniform, avoiding eye contact with anyone who crossed paths. He knew he had to face the day ahead, hoping nobody would notice anything amiss about him.

As he descended the stairs, he couldn't help but wonder if today would be the day you confronted him about what happened yesterday. His heart raced at the thought, both dread and anticipation warring within him.

Idia's heart skipped a beat as he entered the dining hall and saw you sitting at your usual table, engrossed in 'The Trap of Mr. Sora'. You we’re already there, even though had returned to his early morning schedule. His gaze lingered on your figure for a moment too long before quickly looking away, his face flushing crimson with embarrassment.

"Good morning, y/n," he managed to croak out, trying to sound casual. "Uhm, er... uh... did you sleep well?" He cleared his throat awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah it was alright. Also you know what, when I woke up this morning I found both of my books placed on my desk!”

Idia's falters as you mentioned the books, his eyes darting nervously around the empty cafeteria. "Oh, uh... I-I see," he stammered, trying to sound contrite. "I thought they went missing... er, but I guess they just reappeared, maybe some type of spell..." he lied knowing full well he had broken into your dorm the previous night and put them on your desk for you to find.

His voice trailed off, and he quickly shifted the conversation towards safer territory. "So, uhm, how about we continue our game later today? Maybe after classes?" He cleared his throat again, hoping his proposal would diffuse the awkwardness between them.

“Yeah definitely!.. But there’s also something else that happens to me last night..” you tell him softly.

Idia's heart dropped into his stomach as you continued speaking, his eyes wide with fear. "What happened?" He managed to choke out, his voice cracking slightly.

"I... I think someone stole my panties last night," you begin, getting closer to his ear, lifting off your chair a bit, and whispered to him matter-of-factly, with your lips curving into a sly smile. "They were missing from my body when I woke up. Plus there also was a copy of an erotic game on my desk." You sit back down normally, with a small confused pout on my lips, wondering who was the panty thief.

Idia's heart raced wildly in his chest, feeling a mix of terror and excitement course through him. He forced himself to remain composed, placing a placating hand on yours reassuringly. "I-I... I... well, I-I don't know anything about that," he stuttered, his voice cracking slightly.

"Someone else must have taken them," he insisted, though his mind was racing with the possibility that you had caught him red-handed. "Maybe someone wanted them as souvenirs?" His fingers trembled slightly as he tried to steady them on his coffee cup.

“Chill out, I never said it you lol. Plus.. as weird as it sound I find it kind of cute for someone to do that, it’s like having a secret admirer. But in this case they steal your underwear off of you when you sleep, instead of sending anonymous gifts, we’ll I guess the erotic game counts as one lmao.” You say in an unhinge like some crazy pervert.

Idia's heartbeat calmed slightly, though it was still racing faster than usual. "Well, I... uh... thank you," he managed to croak out, his face turning even paler than its natural hue, when he realized what came out of his mouth.

"I mean, that's... nice of you to say, it’s not like I was that pervert that did that to you!" he added, lying, then clearing his throat awkwardly. “So, about our game... after classes, yeah, let's meet up at the library again." With that, he stood up abruptly, grabbing his tray and carrying it away swiftly, leaving you alone at the table.

As he walked away, his mind raced with conflicting emotions: terror, shame, and an unwelcome desire that threatened to consume him. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would like him if she found out he was the pervert who did that to her. Would she like him to touch her while she was asleep? Would she be aroused if she found herself covered in his cum when she woke up in the morning?

Idia hurriedly moved towards his class, trying hard to calm down and focus on his studies. However, the image of your exposed body and the thought of touching you while you were asleep played like a looped video in his head.

As the day progressed, he struggled to concentrate on anything else but you. During breaks between classes, he finally, in a moment of desperation, he decided to take matters into his own hands (literally). Grabbing his phone, he searched online for tips on how to calm down aroused individuals without resorting to masturbation….

Finally, it was finally time for their scheduled gaming session at the library. He gathered his things and headed over, hoping you wouldn’t mention last night's events again.

“Hey Idia!” You call him out,

Idia's heart fluttered a beat as he entered the library and saw you sitting at your usual table, already booted up for their gaming session. "Hello y/n," he managed to croak out, his voice cracking slightly.

He set down his bag on the empty seat beside yours and pulled out his laptop, trying hard not to stare at your exposed cleavage peeking out from your unbuttoned top. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he opened Cloudium and began loading the game settings. "So, uh, ready to continue our adventure?" He tried to change the subject, hoping to divert his thoughts away from last night's escapade.

“Yeah! Also I got something for you,” you reach into your bag, pulling out a small bag of a double dozen homemade cookies. “I don’t know if you like sweets but I went back to my dorm during lunch, for us to munch on while we game!”

Idia's eyes lit up at the sight of the cookies, his mouth watering in anticipation. “Oh, thanks!"

Placing the bag on the table between you, he took one of the treats, biting into it slowly, savoring the flavors melting on his tongue.

"These are great," he complimented between chews, glancing sideways at you, taking in your beauty once more. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for another cookie, unable to tear his gaze away from yours.

He continued setting up their characters in the game. "So, where do you want to start today? Any particular location or quest?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him.

“Thanks, it was no problem, really! And no, there isn’t any thing I wanna start with in particular today. You choose, I’ll just follow your lead!”

Idia nodded, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you. "Alright then," he said, selecting a random location on the map. "Let's head to Greyjog. We need to speak with James Berkeley about joining the Tornadocloths or the Imperials."

As your started their journey in game, Idia's mind drifted back to last night's events. He couldn't shake the image of your bare glistening pussy, and wiggling hips as he stole your panties off of you. His cock twitched in his pants, growing harder against the fabric.

“You okay Idia?” You turn to him, “You look red,” you put one of your hands on his forehead and then your own forehead on the backside of said hand, measuring a possible difference in temperature. Your face inches away from his. “well you don’t feel hot to me, doesn’t seem like you have a fever.” You say then pull back, taking your hand and head away from his.

Idia's heart hammered in his chest, his body on fire with desire. "I-I'm fine," he managed to choke out, clearing his throat nervously. "Just a little tired, I guess."

As they continued playing the game, Idia tried to focus on their surroundings, but his mind kept drifting back to you. He wondered if you noticed how hard it was for him to concentrate today. Would you tease him about it? Or maybe... he shook his head violently, dismissing the filthy thought. No, he couldn't think like that. Not here, not now.

After hours of adventuring and battling monsters together, they finally reached Greyjog. Idia led them inside the castle, trying hard not to steal glances at the contour of your form as you played, making your character followed closely behind his.

“It’s already 7 p.m., let’s save our progress, and return to the game tomorrow. Since tomorrow is the weekend maybe we could game at my dorm or yours! Well, only if you’re down to do so, it’s totally your choice.” You tell him,

Idia nodded, relief washing over him as you suggested calling it a day. "Sounds good to me,"  he agreed, saving the game before closing the lid of his laptop. Standing up, he gathered their belongings, careful not to let his bag brush against your leg accidentally, savoring the feel of your warmth radiating through the thin fabric of your skirt.

"Thanks for today, y/n," he muttered, his voice low and husky with exhaustion and desire mixed together. "Have a good night." With that said, he turned away briskly, walking out of the library, leaving behind the intoxicating scent vanilla perfume and books lingering in the air.

You headed to your dorm, cooked dinner for Grim and yourself, ate, took a shower and did some skincare, reviewed some schoolwork, read a bit more of ‘The trap of Mr.Sora’. Then headed to bed in your usual sleepwear, a t-shirt and panties, no bra.

Idia returned to his own dormitory, his mind still racing with thoughts of you. Once inside his empty room, he locked the door behind him and collapsed onto his bed, removing his uniform piece by piece as he did so. His body ached from hours of sitting in one position, but that wasn't the only thing that needed relief.

Reaching into his nightstand drawer, he pulled out the used panties from last night, admiring the mix of your sweet perfume and his own musky scent on them. A smirk spread across his lips as he imagined how they belonged to such a perfect angel like you.

Later that night…

Idia waited patiently outside the Ramshackle dormitory, his heart thumping in anticipation. After ensuring you had retired for the night, he silently unlocked the door by picking at it just like he had done the previous day, and tiptoed down the hallway, up your stairs, towards your room. Carefully, he opened the door, peeking inside to ensure you were asleep before creeping closer.

His hands trembled as he reached out, grasping the edge of your blanket to lift it slightly. His eyes locked onto your exposed thighs, ached with desire as he slid his hand underneath your panties, tracing along your smooth, silky-soft skin. Reluctantly, he pulled them downwards, exposing your beautiful pussy to his hungry gaze. He was so entranced by it. The accumulation of his horniness and the fact you had admitted to enjoying the perverted acts he had committed. His mind went haywire and he decided to do something bold; He was going to jerk off using the fresh pair of underwear, while looking at you.

Slowly, he lowered himself onto the bed beside me, positioning himself between my spread legs. He wrapped the newly acquired panties around his cock, and started jerking off while observing you.

As Idia waited for any sign of movement, his heart raced wildly in anticipation. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he heard a soft moan escape your lips. His eyes widened in delight and terror as you shifted slightly, unknowingly grinding your body against the bedsheet.

Pushing aside all rational thoughts, he continued to stroke himself faster and harder, groaning softly as he watched your perfect breasts rise and fall with each breath. Each thrust of his hand matched the rhythmic motion of his cock sliding in and out of the panties. He could feel his orgasm building up inside him, reaching its peak.

Without warning, he erupted, coating the fresh pair of panties with his seed.

He then decided to do something crazier, something even more fucked up then the ones he had done before. Slowly unwrapping the cum covered panties from his cock, he then lifted your hips and legs, sliding the underwear pair back on, slightly higher than intended, causing the fabric to dig into your folds. He observes with a shaky breath how his hot semen made contact with your cunt.

His heart raced as he watched idly, his breathing heavy and labored. He had gone too far this time. Could you ever forgive him? Would he lose everything he held dear because of his perverse desires?

Without giving himself time to think, he hurriedly got dressed, he quickly throws takes out the panty pair he stole yesterday from his pocket and throws them in the laundry basket in the corner of your room. Carefully, he tiptoed out of your room, closing the door quietly behind him. As he headed back to his own dormitory, he wondered if today was finally the day he complete lost his sanity and any sort of moral compass he previously had.

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

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[ckret2]

So, uh...

How far are we from the next angst chapter? And how many chpaters/seasons do you plan on making (give or take)?

Asking for a friend.. 👀

Next angst chapter is... not far. :)

I can't answer the second question. Let me illustrate the problem.

Don't bother counting the blocks/color chunks, I didn't, this is just to illustrate the concept.

The chapters I've written, I've written. I know how many of those there are.

The chapters I've plotted, I have detailed outlines for. I know exactly what will happen in them and what order they happen in, and I might be able to guesstimate how many chapters they'll be.

The plots I've heavily developed are "episodes" where I have a really good idea what happens in them and a preeetty good idea what order they happen in, but I do NOT have a detailed outline, which means A LOT could change.

The FOG OF WAR (undeveloped plots) contains all the "episode" ideas I've had that I know I want to write, but I have NOT developed them in detail, I DON'T know what order they're in, AND MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF THEM might change. I have a few developed plots or plotted chapters that are floating in the fog of war because I don't know when they'll happen yet. I do not even know how many episodes are currently hidden in the fog of war. It's possible I haven't even thought up all of the episodes I'll put in this fic—I have several character development goals that I don't currently have an associated plotline for them to happen in. It's also possible I'll cut or combine some of the episodes I've already thought of.

I do not know how big the fog of war is. It's possible that it's about the size I've drawn it above. It's also possible that it's...

... like this.

What I do know is we're gonna be here a while.

As for "seasons," I'm only able to divide up a season 1 from a season 2 because there's part of the story with an EXTREMELY STRONG "season finale"-tier plotline, before and after which the story and its possibilities change drastically. The "season" division isn't a measure of length, but of plot stakes. There's a possibility there won't be a similar shift from a season 2 to a season 3+. The seasons could have any length relative to each other.

[kyleoreillylover]

Chapter 3- Time

Series Summary/Masterlist

word count: 13,537

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant @raya-hunter01

warnings: wrestling related violence, manipulation, mentions of cheating.

Chapter Summary: It's time for your test. You have a choice to make. Will you finally get your revenge on Becky and take what's rightfully yours, that title? Will you choose your best friends for over 20 years over Roman, or will you finally be selfish and choose yourself for once? Will you finally put away your kind heartedness in favor for retribution? Only time will tell.

a/n: This chapter is my favorite one that I have written, so I hope you guys enjoy! Also there will be a big time jump in the next chapter from 2020 to 2022, so be prepared for that lol. Love you guys and thank you for reading my silly little stories <3

liked by uceyjucey, trinityfatu, beckylynch, jimmyuso and 600,00 others

y/n: bleeding out red and gonna be dripping out in gold 💋 #eliminationchamber #rawwomenschampionship

view all comments:

user: mother looks so freaking good!!!

user: red hair era makes me go feral

samizaynwwe: wishing you the best of luck <3

↳user: omg this is so cute!! I miss their friendship 😩😭

↳user: more like relationship 😭 friends do not look at each other like the way they used to look at one another 😭

↳y/n: you already know that, you picked out the gear for me 

user: the fact that ur still competing when ur bestie has a whole broken arm

↳user: and what do u want her to do? forfeit her title match cause becky got attacked by some rando? pls exit this comment section and never return

user: why all the red suddenly... 👀

↳user: why question it when she looks so good in red 🥰

Beckylynchwwe: may the best women win. 🤝 Love you <3

↳y/n: may the best women win 🤝 Lyt <3

user: you better win!!! 

uceyjucey: red looks good on you 🩸

↳y/n: you already know that, you picked out the gear for me 😒♥️

↳uceyjucey: that just means I got good taste ;)

↳user: what's going on here???

↳user: idk but i’m loving it

"Becky, are you sure you should be competing in this type of match like this?"

Your concerned voice rang out in the locker room as you leaned against the wall, looking at Becky who was wrapping her injured arm with a supportive bandage. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders as she glanced up, meeting your eyes with a determined look.

"I have no other choice," Becky replied, a steely resolve evident in her tone.  She continued wrapping up her injured arm, securing it carefully. You stared at it with a unreadable expression on your face, your worries etched in the furrow of your brow. Becky noticed your concern and paused, meeting your gaze once more.

"You always have a choice." You retorted sharply, expressing your concern for her well being.

Becky sighed, a mixture of frustration and determination evident in her eyes. "I know Y/N," Becky said softly, her voice tinged with both determination and a hint of vulnerability. "But I can't back down from this. I've worked too hard to get here, and I won't let anything—no injury, no setback, no attacker—stop me."

You nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "I get it, Becky. I just don't want to see you hurt any further. This match is brutal, and with your arm—"

Becky cut you off gently, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and determination. "I appreciate your concern, I truly do. But I've made up my mind. I'm stepping into that ring, and I'm going to give it my all."

There was a moment of silence as you both exchanged looks filled with unspoken understanding. Despite your worries, you knew Becky's determination was unshakeable, and you knew that no matter what you said, she wouldn't change her decision.

With a a sigh, you relented, realizing that your words might not dissuade her from her chosen path.

"Alright, Becky. I'll be right there, rooting for you," you said, offering your support despite your reservations. "May the best women win." You offered her your hand, giving her a firm shake before offering a supportive hug. Becky reciprocated the hug, her fiery spirit burning even in the face of adversity.

"Maybe the best women win." Becky mumbled into your jacket, tightening her grip on you like you were all she had before letting go. You gave her a smile that was wiped away when you left the room. The cameras that were waiting for you caught it, and Kayla Braxton, who looked eager to see you before the match, rushed forward, holding a microphone.

"Y/N, could we have a moment of your time before the Elimination Chamber match?" Kayla's voice carried a sense of urgency as she positioned herself to get the best shot for the viewers tuning in.

You offered a quick nod, acknowledging Kayla's request before making your way down the corridor, cameras trailing behind. The anticipation for your upcoming match was palpable in the air, the buzzing energy of the arena adding to the already charged atmosphere.

Kayla posed her first question, her voice projecting professionalism despite the evident excitement. "Y/N, you're about to enter the Elimination Chamber match for the Raw Women's Championship. With Becky Lynch injured and the odds against you, how do you plan to approach this match?"

Your expression shifted to one of confusion and determination, a resolve etched on your face. "Odds stacked against me? Kayla, you clearly didn't do your research before coming to me. I am the "odds." The word rolled off your tongue with a confident smirk.

 "Those other competitors are probably hoping for me to be the last one released from the pod so they have a better chance. But guess what? I thrive in this kind of environment. I have fun in this kind of enviornment." Your voice turned cold yet fiery at the same time as  you continued, your eyes focused on the camera.

"Shayna, Natalya, Becky, Nia, and Auska wanna act like they have the upper hand? Newsflash, I beat Shayna and Natalya last week, and they showed me that they are nothing but speed bumps on my road to victory. As for the others, I will happily stomp on them on my way to the top. Let's not forget I am the woman that broke Ronda Rousey so badly she had to go take another vacation cause she couldn't handle taking that title from me, and she's the one that won!" 

You giggled at Kayla, the fervor in your voice matching the intensity of the situation. "So, in case anyone's forgotten, I am the Princess of Pain." You paused for a moment, a sly grin crossing your face. "And I plan to remind everyone why that's the case when I walk out with that Raw Women's Championship tonight."

Kayla gulped at the intense proclamation, her eyes widening as she attempted to maintain her professional composure. Your demeanor was not your normal one; it was a blend of anger, determination, and a hint of ferocity that spoke volumes about your mindset entering the match.

The aura you exuded was one of someone willing to destroy themselves to destroy their opponents,  channeling a potent mix of confidence and aggression that was unlike you to have before you get in the ring.

"And I have to ask, do you feel guilty going into this match knowing you might have to hurt an injured Becky to secure the title?" Kayla's question hung in the air, her gaze expectant as she awaited your response.

Your expression shifted, the fire in your eyes dimming slightly as you considered the weight of Kayla's inquiry. "Kayla, let's get something straight," you began, your tone calmer yet laced with determination. "This isn't about hurting Becky. This is about competition, about proving myself in that ring. Becky and I have mutual respect, and if she's stepping into that Chamber, she knows what's at stake just as much as I do."

You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "If she wants to go into this match injured, then she needs to be prepared for the consequences. I won't hold back, not because I want to hurt her, but because in that ring, we're all fighting for the same thing—the championship. Becky knows that as much as anyone else in that Chamber. It's every women for herself, and there are no friends once that bell rings. I respect Becky, but I won't let sentimentality cloud my goal—becoming the Raw Women's Champion."

Kayla nodded understandingly, her demeanor maintaining its professional facade despite the charged nature of your response. "And my last question, how do you respond to claims made by a now injured Seth Rollins- who was taken out of his match- that you were the one who attacked Becky?"

You internally smiled at the mention of Seth being injured, but your expression remained serious and composed. "Seth's accusations are baseless and unfounded. I have no reason to attack Becky, especially not before a match of this magnitude. As much as Seth may want to stir controversy, I'm solely focused on this Elimination Chamber match and claiming what I rightfully deserve—the Raw Women's Championship."

Kayla nodded, giving you a bright smile. "Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Y/N. Best of luck in the match tonight."

You nodded in acknowledgment, offering a quick, determined smile before the cameras panned away and the backstage scene transitioned into the electrifying arena. 

It was almost time.

All you felt was red hot anger as you were putting on your gear. Your skin was on fire, your thoughts were racing at a million miles per hour, and the sensation of frustration coursed through your veins like a wildfire.

 All you could think of was finally getting your hands on Becky and hurting her like she hurt you. Slamming her into the steel. Throwing her into the glass pod and reveling in her agony. Sticking that knife into her back like she had done to you and making her feel what you felt. All of those thoughts made your skin feel even hotter, and you barely registered the voice calling out for you from outside the bathroom.

"Y/N, pretty girl, you finished yet? Match starts in 10 and I wanna see you in your pretty gear." Knocking accompanied Jey's  expectant yet concerned tone, and you jumped at the sudden interruption, momentarily pulling you out of the dark thoughts swirling in your mind. Your breathing was ragged, your hands slightly trembling as you tried to compose yourself. 

"Yeah, gimme a sec." You   replied, your voice low and cold, trying to mask the turmoil brewing within. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady your emotions, knowing you couldn't afford to let this rage control you before the match.

Quickly finishing up, you emerged from the bathroom, wearing your wrestling gear—a crimson ensemble that matched the intensity of your emotions, and opened the locker room door.

Jey was waiting, and any words he was gonna say were quickly forgotten as he took in your beauty. Your beautiful crimson gear hugging your body perfectly, red makeup accentuating your fierce expression, your sun-kissed brown skin on display making Jey's mouth water. It took everything in him to not kiss you right then and there.

"Damn." Jey whispered out, eyes darkening at the sight of you and trying to not look down at your gear and instead maintain eye contact. "You look incredible, Y/N."

You forced a small smile, though your eyes still held a hint of the lingering anger. "Thanks, Jey." You appreciated his compliment, but your mind was preoccupied with the upcoming match and the intense emotions swirling within you. 

"You don't look too bad yourself." Not too bad was an understandment, Jey looked like a greek god; sporting his gold chain and his abs on full display since he was shirtless underneath his black jacket that showed off his muscles. The tension between the two of you was undeniable, the charged atmosphere only adding to the intensity of the moment. 

Jey stepped closer to you and gently put his hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring.  "Hey, you're gonna do great out there. I know you're feeling a lot right now, but don't let it consume you. Stay focused, okay? You're the Princess of Pain for a reason." 

His hand left your shoulder and cupped your cheek, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb.

Your breath hitched slightly at the contact, the warmth of his hand making you get out of your head, if only for a little while. You looked up into his honey-brown eyes that seemed to lighten up just for you  before they grew serious again, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 

"What's wrong?' Jey softly asked, his concern palpable in his gaze.

You shook your head, trying to brush off his concerns, but his thumb remained on your cheek, gentle yet insistent. "It's nothing, just pre-match nerves. I'll be fine once I'm out there." 

Despite your attempt to downplay your emotions, Jey knew you better than to take your words at face value. He observed you for a moment, and it felt like he was staring into your soul, waiting for you to open up and share what was truly bothering you.

Finally, unable to resist the comfort Jey offered, you sighed, feeling the weight of the emotions crashing over you. "It's Becky," you admitted in a hushed tone, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't shake off this anger. It's consuming me, and I know Roman told me to let it fester until the right moment, but I feel like I'm losing control."

Jey's face softened at your admission, and he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek again, offering you a comforting gesture. "I get it. But think about it. Finally getting your revenge, taking her down and showing her she can't mess with you again, that's your big moment. And you're gonna have that moment." 

Despite his words, you felt the anger lick at your insides like a relentless flame, almost drowning out Jey's comforting words. You blinked, trying to refocus on his face, to ground yourself in his calming presence.

"I want that moment, Jey. I want to make her pay for what she did to me." The intensity in your voice matched the ferocity in your eyes. "But you don't understand. Once I get out there,  I don't know if I can control it. I don't know if I can stop myself from going too far." 

That was the understandment of the year. You've had this problem for years, you weren't called the Princess of Pain without a reason. It was why you tried for so many years to be the good guy, to fight against the darkness inside you. Sami and Kevin were usually the ones who helped you keep it at bay, but they weren't here this time. They wouldn't be able to pull you back if things got too out of hand. 

You've never let your anger out like this before except for one time in the NXT when Kevin cost you your NXT Women's Championship after you took Sami's side in their feud. 

That night haunted you- and the moments that followed it haunted you as well. You attacked Kevin in a fit of rage backstage, and injured him, fighting him all the way to the parking lot and breaking his arm in the process.

Sami wasn't in the arena to calm you down, and when the security guards finally sepeated you from Kevin,  your eyes red with anger and tears, you found a empty spot to sit at to get away from everyone.

You felt like crying until you had no tears left,  feeling the guilt and shame consume you. But before you could, a tap on your shoulder made you look up, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

It was Bray Wyatt, his serene yet enigmatic presence somehow calming the storm raging within you. He sat beside you, not saying anything at first, just offering his silent support. The two of you didn't speak until you eventually found the words amiss the storm of emotions you were experiencing.

"What do you want?" You snapped at Bray, the anger still boiling under your skin, not understanding why he was approaching you at such a vulnerable moment.

Bray didn't flinch at your outburst, his calm demeanor unwavering. "I don't want anything from you, Y/N. I'm here because I understand your pain. I see the turmoil within you, and I'm here to offer guidance if you're willing to accept it."

You scoffed, feeling a mixture of frustration and confusion. "Guidance? What do you know about my pain? About what I'm feeling right now?"

Bray leaned in closer, his piercing gaze fixed on you. "I know more than you think. I've danced with darkness, embraced it, and found my way back. I see the same struggle in you. The anger, the hurt, it's consuming you, because you are scared of it. But you have a choice. You can either be scared of it and push it away, but that will only worsen it, or you can embrace it, acknowledge it, and learn that it is a part of you. The choice is yours, Y/N."

His words resonated within you, cutting through the chaos in your mind with a clarity you hadn't felt in a long time. You looked at Bray, a mix of emotions still swirling within you, but his calm demeanor somehow grounding you in the moment.

"What do I do?" you asked, your voice softer, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the facade you had built.

Bray smiled gently, his eyes holding a depth of understanding. "You will see." With that, Bray stood up and left, leaving you with a sense of intrigue and contemplation. The memory of that encounter with Bray Wyatt was etched in your mind, his enigmatic guidance lingering as you grappled with controlling the anger brewing within you.

Back in the present moment with Jey, you felt a pang of that same uncertainty and inner turmoil, knowing that this time, you might not have someone like Bray Wyatt, Sami or Kevin to guide you through the tumultuous waves of anger and darkness that threatened to consume you.

Jey's voice pulled you out of the memories, his concern evident in his expression. "Hey, listen to me." He gently cupped your face with both hands, his touch grounding you in the present.  "I can stop you if things get too out of hand. You know that, right? I won't let you hurt yourself."

You blinked, the sincerity in Jey's eyes cutting through the tempest within you.

"Jey, I appreciate that. I really do," you began, your voice wavering slightly as you tried to express your gratitude, "but this isn't something you can just step in and stop. Not this time. I don't even know if I can control it myself."

You felt a rush of anger and gripped Jey's wrist tightly, the intensity of your emotions almost palpable. "I'm just scared that no one will be able to pull me back from the edge this time."

Jey's gaze softened, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders in a reassuring manner. He knew you had a side to you that he never really saw before until Becky confessed about her and Seth, a side that was darker, more intense, and harbored deep-seated emotions.

But he didn't care about the darkness within you. He cared about the beautiful women that was capable of so much more, the woman who was passionate, driven, and compassionate.

"I won't let you go over the edge." Jey shook his head and grabbed your hand firmly. "You focus on winning, and when you come back, I'll be waiting for you no matter what."

You shook your head, pulling your hand out of his grasp. Jey didn't understand. You could barely control it, how could he pull you from the edge if you were teetering on it? How could he tell you that you'd come back unscathed when the rage within threatened to consume you entirely? 

"You can't promise that." You harshly whispered , your voice carrying a mix of fear and frustration. "You don't understand, Jey. This isn't something you can just control or stop. I don't even know if I can."

Jey grabbed your hand back, his eyes locked with yours in a silent exchange of emotions. "I understand that I can help you with this."

"Don't waste your time trying when you can't." You tightened your grip on Jey's hand, your voice desperate yet resigned. "You can't save me from myself, Jey. No one can."

"I can."

"No one can Jey!" You broke free of his grasp, the emotions swirling within you too overwhelming to contain. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of frustration, anger, and fear threatening to spill over. You turned away from Jey, unable to bear the weight of his comforting gaze. "And I won't risk let you get hurt because of me."

"You can't take that choice away from me. I want take the risk." Jey's words made you turn back to him with a glare that conveyed a mix of emotions. You wanted to push him away, to protect him from yourself yet a part of you longed for his comforting presence, his unwavering support.

"Well too bad, cause I'm not letting you take it." You moved to grab your jacket, but Jey stepped in front of you, blocking your path and capturing your attention with a resolute gaze.

"I'm not gon' let you push me away cause I care about you." Jey stated firmly, his voice unwavering as he held your gaze. "I'll fight for you, even if it's against yourself."

"I can't let you do that." You tried to push past him, but Jey just stood his ground, refusing to let you leave.

"You can't stop me from caring about you, Y/N."

"Yes, I can."

"No, you can't."

"Yes, I can!" You raised your voice, frustration and desperation seeping through every word. "I'm not worth it, Jey! I'm not worth risking yourself for!"

Jey remained steadfast, his gaze unwavering as he reached out to gently cup your face, making you freeze in your tracks. His touch was warm and comforting, his eyes locking onto yours with a sense of determination that matched your own.

"You are worth it, Y/N," he said softly, his voice laced with conviction. "You're worth every bit of effort, every bit of care. I won't let you believe otherwise." Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of emotions churning within you. You wanted to push him away, but his touch, his proximity, just him in general was making you feel things you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time. 

"I can't hurt you..." You mumbled softly, Jey's expression softened even more, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that escaped from your eye.

"I can handle the pain, pretty girl, trust me." Something about his words made you internally heat up, feeling a mix of emotions at his unwavering support and care. 

Jey felt the shift in your demeanor, felt the tension that threatened to explode between the two of you, and when he looked down at your perfectly glossed lips, he couldn't take it anymore.

The only warning you got was him pulling you into his arms before his lips pressed against yours in a heated kiss. When he felt your lips not moving, his brain started working again and panic began to fill his body.

Holy shit, he was kissing you.

Jey quickly pulled away, his eyes wide with shock at what he had just done. He looked at you and expected to see a disguted expression, but instead, he was met with a look of surprise mixed with something else, something he couldn't quite decipher.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," Jey stammered, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed anywhere but on you. "I understand if you wanna slap me or not wanna be friends anymore-" Jey was cut off by your sudden movement as you grabbed his face and pulled him into another kiss, this time more fervent and filled with an intensity that surprised both of you.

Your lips moved against his in a desperate embrace, your hands sliding around his neck as you deepened the kiss, feeling a mix of emotions surging through you.

Jey's initial shock melted away, replaced by a raw passion as he responded to your kiss with equal fervor, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer.

The intensity of the moment, the emotions swirling within you, they all converged in that fiery kiss, a collision of desire, desperation, and unspoken words. His lips were rough yet soft against yours, the taste of him sending a wave of warmth through your body.

For a moment, it felt like everything else faded away—the anger, the turmoil, the impending match—leaving only the two of you in that charged, passionate moment.

Breaking the kiss, you both panted slightly, the air around you thick with unspoken emotions. Jey's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and longing reflected in his gaze, mirroring the emotions you felt within yourself. You both stood there, caught in a moment of unspoken connection, the tension between you palpable yet strangely comforting.

"I... I don't know what came over me," Jey finally managed to say, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and desire, his eyes searching yours for some semblance of understanding.

You shook your head slightly, trying to process the intensity of what just happened, the flood of emotions still coursing through you. "I don't either," you admitted softly, your heart racing with a combination of excitement and uncertainty.

A knock on the door startled you both, making you snap out of the moment. Jey quickly composed himself, adjusting his jacket as he moved away from you, trying to regain his composure. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing heartbeat and clear your mind.

"Y/N, it's time. We're about to start," a voice called from outside the door, interrupting the charged atmosphere that lingered between you. 

"Give me a minute." You called out in response, your voice slightly shaky as you tried to regain your focus.

You turned to Jey, who looked like he was still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, and walked over to him, placing your hand on his arm, gingerly making your way to his chest before grabbing his chain, gently tugging on it to bring him down to your level. Both your skins felt like they were still ablaze with the remnants of the intense moment you shared, and you locked eyes with him, a mix of emotions reflecting in your gaze.

"We'll talk about this later, so don't worry about it." You ran your hand along Jey's jawline, your touch light yet conveying a sense of reassurance. "But I promise you we're good. Wish me luck?"

Jey's eyes softened at your words, and he wished that he could say more, that he could express the myriad of emotions swirling within him.

Instead, he gave you a nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Good luck, pretty girl. Kill it out there." he replied softly, his voice filled with a mixture of support and love. You gave him a blinding smile, and he watched as you let go of his chain, your hand sliding away from his jawline, and made your way towards the door, steeling yourself for the intense match ahead.

He just hoped that you'd come back to him unscathed.

You glared through your pod, your gaze fixated on Becky as she made her entrance into the Elimination Chamber match. The sight of her intensified the emotions within you, the anger and resentment threatening to consume you once again.

But this time yo would let it consume you, let it overwhelm your senses and take control of your actions. The anger boiled inside you like a tempest, urging you to unleash it upon her, to make her feel the pain and anguish you had harbored since the betrayal.

Natalya and Becky were to start the match, and as the countdown began for the first pod to open, you focused on preparing yourself mentally for the chaos that was about to unfold.

After 30 minutes- it was like a war zone. Natalya was the first to be eliminated by a roll-up by Shayna, who turned on her. One of the pods were broken when Tamina speared Nia through it, who eliminated Nia. Becky was nursing her arm after Shayna targeted it and you eliminated her before she could tap Becky out with your finisher.

And you and Auska were tangled in the corner, exchanging fierce strikes and attempts to gain the upper hand. You slammed her into the steel, blood pouring out of your mouth from where you'd been hit by her kicks.

The match had taken a toll on everyone, leaving bruises, blood, and fatigue as the competitors fought tooth and nail for the coveted Raw Women's Championship.

As you grappled with Asuka, you could barely think, you were barely yourself. You let the darker side of you take over, your vision tunneling to focus solely on inflicting pain and securing victory at any cost. The crowd roared, the steel structure reverberated with the impact of bodies colliding, but it was all a distant symphony to you, drowned out by the internal fury consuming your thoughts.

"You are not ready for Auska!" Asuka screamed at you as she slammed your head into the steel over and over again. But all that did was make you smile with every hit, making Auska angrier and try to fight you even harder.

The pain seared through your body, but you welcomed it, reveling in the agony as it fueled the fire within you. You grunted with each impact, the taste of blood on your lips as sweet as candy.

With a sudden burst of strength, you managed to reverse Auska's assault, throwing her into the steel structure with a resounding crash. You saw her wince in pain, but you didn't relent. Your movements were almost mechanical, your mind was clouded, your vision hazy with the red mist of aggression and determination.

You grabbed her head and slammed it against the steel again, and again, and again, each impact echoing through the chamber. The crowd's chants and screams merged into a cacophony, but your focus remained singular—inflict pain, show no mercy, and secure victory at any cost.

Blood trickled down your face from the earlier blows, mixing with the crimson of your attire, making you look like the darkness that consumed you. The intense desire to win, the need to prove your dominance, all these emotions drove you forward, blurring the lines between competition and the dark turmoil within.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Tamina barreling down at you, and you managed to sidestep her attack just in time, causing her to crash into Auska with a fierce impact. You laughed darkly, the sound almost maniacal as you watched both of them reel in pain, before you grabbed Auska and hauled her into the ring for the pin. 

"Auska has been eliminated!" The announcer's voice boomed through the arena as your victory was declared. But there was no elation in your expression, no triumphant celebration. Instead, a cold, almost detached look adorned your face as you stood over Auska, panting heavily, your gaze fixated on the fallen competitor.

Your gaze went to Becky, who was still nursing her arm, watching the chaos unfold in the ring. The sight of her triggered a surge of raw emotions within you, the memories of her betrayal and your desire for retribution resurfacing with an overwhelming intensity. You were consumed by an uncontrollable rage, the darkness within you clawing its way to the surface as you eyed Becky with an unspoken promise of vengeance.

Your gaze went from Becky, to Tamina, then Becky again. You smiled and moved closer to Becky, who was already on her feet, albeit visibly weakened from the match. "The two of us, get Tamina. Then it'll just be us." 

Becky nodded, understanding the unspoken plan as the two of you cautiously approached Tamina, who was trying to recover from the previous onslaught. As a team, you and Becky coordinated your attacks, trying to neutralize Tamina's advantage.

You grabbed her from behind, while Becky kicked her in the midsection, trying to weaken her. But Tamina was stronger, and she powered out of your grip, sending you to the mat with a forceful shove. Becky, in her weakened state, tried to fight back, but Tamina's power was overwhelming.

You staggered to your feet, the pain and exhaustion beginning to take its toll, but the fire within you burned fiercely. You knew you had to take down Tamina to secure a chance at the championship, and you couldn't let anything—especially the betrayal that fueled your rage—distract you from that goal.

As Tamina advanced towards Becky, you launched yourself at her, driving your shoulder into her midsection and knocking her down. You and Becky seized the opportunity, both delivering a series of coordinated strikes, attempting to weaken Tamina further. Tamina realized that this could mark the end for her and swiftly ran away from the both of you, climbing the cage and trying to escape.

You and Becky quickly went after her, scaling the cage and trying to get her. Tamina climbed onto the top of the pod to try and get away , but you and Becky both grabbed Tamina's legs to prevent her escape. She struggled, thrashing wildly in an attempt to break free from your grip, but both you and Becky held on, determined to keep her from fleeing. 

With a combined effort, you and Becky managed to pull Tamina back down kick her, making her slump in the corner of the pod.

"How do you like that, Tamina!" You yelled at her , your voice filled with a mix of exhilaration and a hint of vindication.

You turned away from her and realized Becky was dangling off the edge of the pod, struggling to maintain her balance. In that split second, the memories hit you— when she had told you she and Seth were seeing each other behind your back — and you knew the choice you had to make. 

"Give me your hand, Becks." You extended your hand to Becky, offering her support to pull her back up onto the pod. 

Becky sighed a breath of relief, her grip on the edge faltering slightly. "I... I can't reach, Y/N!" Her voice was strained, panic evident in her eyes as she struggled to maintain her precarious position.

"I got you!" You moved towards her and grabbed her hand, and for a moment it felt like everything between the two of you was perfect; that nothing had changed, that she still held your trust.

And then you kicked her away from the edge of the pod.

"Oh my god Corey, Y/N just kicked Becky off the pod!" Cole's shocked voice was drowned out by the cheers and gasps from the crowd as the camera panned onto the sadistic smirk on your face. 

You licked your lips as the sound of Becky's body hitting the mat echoed through the arena, a sickening thud that sent a chill down your spine.

The chaos around you, the loud exclamations from the commentators, the roar of the audience—it all seemed distant as your gaze remained fixated on Becky's prone form.

This is what you wanted. This is what she deserved. This is what you needed.

You turned to Tamina, who was knocked out next to you, and grabbed her from the corner of the pod, yanking her by the head and standing her up.

You grabbed her by the throat and looked down at how high you guys were up, and turned back to her with a chilling smile and choke slamming her all the way down to the ring, dropping the two of you from the top of the pod, crashing violently onto the mat below.

The pain from falling felt like a rush of adrenaline, a mix of exhilaration and agony that surged through your body. You laughed at Tamina's howl of pain and rolled her over to pin her.

"Tamina has been eliminated!"

The announcer's voice echoed through the arena, but all you could focus on was Becky's fallen form a few feet away from you. The sight of her lying motionless on the floor made you smile with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

The rush of power, the vindication, the culmination of all the betrayal and hurt fueled your actions. The cheers and gasps from the crowd became distant echoes in your ears, drowned out by the chaotic symphony of your own emotions.

You slowly stood up, never breaking eye contact with Becky's motionless figure. It was like a hunter relishing the sight of their prey, except in this instance, the prey was someone who had betrayed your trust, someone whose actions had fueled an uncontrollable rage within you.

You stalked toward Becky, every step deliberate, every movement calculated. The audience's reaction was a mix of shock, disbelief, and some even cheering at the audacity of your actions. But you were oblivious to it all, fixated solely on the fallen figure before you.

Standing over Becky's motionless body, a myriad of emotions churned within you—anger, hurt, and a dark satisfaction. The memories of betrayal flooded your mind, intensifying the storm of emotions raging inside you.

"You thought I forgot what you did to me, Becky?" Your voice was low, filled with a venomous intensity as you grabbed her head, your fingers curling around her hair. The crowd's hushed murmurs created a haunting backdrop to the tense moment, but your focus remained solely on Becky, on the feelings that surged within you.

"You thought you could just betray me and walk away unscathed?" The words dripped with malice as you pulled Becky up to her knees, your grip unyielding. Her eyes fluttered open, registering the danger in your demeanor as fear etched across her face.

"Y/N, please... I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I never wanted..." Becky's voice trembled, the desperation evident in her plea.

"You never wanted? You never wanted what, Becky?" Your voice rose, punctuated with bitterness and anger. "You never wanted to hurt me? You never wanted to lie to me?"

The memories flooded back, vivid and painful. Both good and bad.

When she hugged you the moment you won your first main roster title. When you snuck from everyone on a international tour in Italy from your time on the Indies and had gotten lost. When you both got signed to the WWE and threw a party and gotten so drunk Sami and Kevin had to carry you both back to your hotel rooms.

These memories flooded back in an instant, as if they were tugging at the last strings of sanity within you. But then you flickered back to the moment when that trust was shattered, when deceit became the foundation of your relationship with Becky.

"I trusted you! I trusted you more than anyone else!" Your voice cracked with emotion, the hurt resurfacing with a vengeance. "And you destroyed it all!"

Becky's attempts to plead or apologize fell on deaf ears. The betrayal had festered deep within, feeding the darkness that had consumed you. Your grip tightened on her hair, a vengeful glare fixed on her.

"But now... now you'll pay for what you did." With a sudden burst of rage, you slammed Becky's head onto the cold, unforgiving steel floor, a sickening thud echoing through the chamber.

The crowd's gasps and cries blended into a cacophony as you repeated the action, each strike fueled by the pain of betrayal, each impact a testament to the seething anger within you. The once vibrant and fearless Becky Lynch was now at your mercy, helpless against the onslaught.

"You thought I forgot everything you did to me?!" You screamed at her as you pushed her head into the steel cage, the clang of metal echoing the chaos within your own mind.

Becky's struggles weakened, her body becoming limp under the relentless assault. The rush of power surged through you with each strike, a grim satisfaction stemming from the torment inflicted upon the person who had shattered your trust.

"You don't get to apologize, Becky! You don't get to plead for forgiveness!" The words tore out of you, laced with an uncontainable rage that had simmered beneath the surface for far too long. Each blow against the steel was a manifestation of the pain she had caused, an outlet for the betrayal that had gnawed at your soul.

You made her stand up, her knees buckling under the strain, her eyes pleading for mercy. But there was no mercy left in you, only the searing desire for retribution. With a cruel determination, you hoisted Becky up, making her lean against the unforgiving steel structure of the chamber.

"This is for everything you didi to me!" The words dripped with a cold ferocity as you speared her into the pod, the glass shattering upon impact. Becky's body crumpled amidst the debris, and you breathed out angrily at the sight.

The rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins, a mixture of vindication and a twisted sense of satisfaction washing over you as you stood there, heaving with exertion and emotion.

But you didn't stop there. You slowly stood up and grabbed her hair, pulling her up once again. Despite the exhaustion creeping into your bones, the rage and hurt refused to ebb away. You wanted her to feel every ounce of pain you had endured.

"You made me suffer, Becky. Now it's your turn." Your voice was a venomous whisper as you dragged her towards the chamber's unforgiving steel walls. The walls were slightly open from where Nia and Tamina had crashed into earlier, creating jagged edges that now served as a menacing backdrop to your vendetta.

You threw Becky down into the middle of the steel, and with a primal roar, slammed the steel wall into her injured arm. 

Becky's anguished scream pierced the air. Her body convulsed with pain, her face contorted in agony as she writhed on the unforgiving steel surface.  You slammed the door into her injured arm again and again, the metallic clang merging with her cries of agony. Each strike was fueled by the betrayal you felt, the pent-up rage finding release in the physical torment you were inflicting.

"You wanna have Seth? Go right ahead, I'll have something better- your title." You  spat out the words, each syllable filled with the bitterness of betrayal as you continued the onslaught. "The two of you can destroyed each other, for all I care!"

The chamber's atmosphere had turned eerily silent, save for Becky's agonized screams and the brutal sound of the steel door colliding with her arm. You didnt stop until Becky lay there, barely conscious, the torment etched into her features. Her arm hung at an unnatural angle, broken and battered from the relentless assault.

You leaned down and took the cast off of her injured arm, tossing it aside with disdain, before leaning down and retrieving the metal pole you had broken her arm with yesterday and smiled at the sight of it. Holding it aloft, a crazed grin etched on your face, you relished in the feeling of power coursing through your veins.

"You really thought I forgave you, Becky?  You thought I'd forget what you did? You thought wrong." Your voice was a sinister growl, dripping with malice as you towered over the battered and broken figure of Becky.

She lay there, barely able to move, her gaze filled with pain and shock as she looked up at you. She hoped to see mercy in your eyes, but all she found was a cold, unyielding resolve.

"You are worth nothing. The only thing worthy you have is that Raw Women's Championship, and I'm taking it." You lifted the metal pole, ready to strike again, your eyes filled with a ruthless determination. "And I'll take it by any means necessary."

Becky's howl of pain echoed through the chamber as you crashed the pole into her injured arm once more, a vicious determination driving each strike. The chamber seemed to amplify her anguished cries, the sound bouncing off the steel walls in a haunting symphony. You didn't relent, your movements fueled by an unquenchable thirst for revenge, the need to make her suffer as you had suffered.

You finally stopped when Becky's body convulsed in agony, her voice hoarse from screaming. The once defiant and confident champion now lay broken and defenseless beneath your relentless assault. You threw the metal pole to the side, staring down at her with a mix of satisfaction and a lingering bitterness.

This was it. This was your moment. This was your time.

You hauled Becky up by her hair, her body limp and broken, and dragged her to the ring, pulling her lifeless form through the ropes. The audience watched in shocked silence as you tossed her into the ring, her body barely responsive to the impact against the mat.

With a cold determination, you climbed into the ring, standing over Becky's battered form. The taste of vengeance was bitter on your tongue, but it was the only thing that gave you a semblance of satisfaction amidst the turmoil within. The desire for retribution had driven you to this point, and there was no turning back.

"You did this to yourself." You stated coldly, gently cradling Becky's head in your hands, forcing her to look up at you. Her eyes, once full of fire and confidence, were now clouded with pain and fear. But you felt no remorse, no empathy for the woman lying broken at your feet.

"This is what happens when you betray someone who trusted you, Becky," you continued, your voice laced with a chilling calmness. "You thought you could walk over me, but now, you lie here broken, defeated."

You pushed Becky's head back down to the mat with a disdainful shove, watching her writhe in pain. The taste of victory was bittersweet, the turmoil within you still raging despite the apparent domination you displayed.

"You said I was a sweet girl, Becky," you sneered, your voice tinged with contempt. "But you've awoken the darkness in me. And now, you'll pay the price."

You pulled her into a guittoine submission-courtesy of Roman- and tightened the hold with a sadistic grin, relishing in the agony evident on Becky's face and grabbing her injured arm and twisting it in a way that elicited a scream of agony from her.

"You made me this way, Becky!" Your voice echoed through the chamber, filled with a raw mixture of anger and vindication. "You made me unleash this darkness!"

You maintained the hold, ignoring the desperation in Becky's eyes, the pleas for mercy that fell on deaf ears. Every second felt like an eternity, and despite Becky's best efforts to resist, the pain and exhaustion took their toll. Her struggles weakened, her body succumbing to the relentless submission hold, and she tapped out in excruciating pain.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the match and your victory. The referee rushed in to separate you from Becky, who lay there, broken and defeated, the once-champion now a mere shadow of her former self.

But you didn't let go. You pushed at the security that tried to separate you, tightening even more and refusing to release the hold. The crowd's gasps turned into a chorus of boos as the officials struggled to pry you off, but your grip remained unyielding, a testament to the rage and vindictiveness that had consumed you.

"Let go, Y/N! You've won! It's over!" The referee's voice was a desperate plea, but you were deaf to reason. The need for retribution blinded you, overshadowing any semblance of rationality

"You see what you did?" You screamed at Becky, your voice filled with a chilling mix of triumph and fury.

"This is your fault! You made me do this!" The darkness was beginning to take over completely, clouding your thoughts and senses. The chaos around you seemed distant as you held on to the submission, refusing to release Becky even as she lay there, gasping for air, her face contorted in agony.

"Pretty girl, it's finished, you did it! Let her go!"

That was the only warning you got before Jey's arms wrapped around your waist and forcefully pulled you off of Becky, breaking the hold. You let Jey drag you away, the remnants of your dark rage still coursing through your veins. This was the backup plan- if you were too deep in your own darkness, Jey would be there to pull you back. You relaxed into his embrace, the remnants of your rage simmering beneath the surface but still boiling.

"You won. You did it, you won!" Jey exclaimed into your ear, attemtping to bring you back to reality. You managed a smile, a twisted satisfaction lingering on your lips.

"Gimme her fucking title!" You heard Jimmy arguing with the ref, and looked up to see him holding the Raw Women's Championship, a smile on his face as he moved towards you.

"You fucking won!" Jimmy cheered, hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground in celebration. Elation and adrenaline is all you felt as you hugged him back tightly before he set you down, handing you your Raw Women's Championship.

The gold felt cold against your skin, a tangible symbol of the victory you had fought so ruthlessly for. The cheers from the audience were a distant hum as you clutched the title, a dark satisfaction washing over you.

"I won." You whispered softly, but Jey heard you. He smiled softly at you- you finally did it, finally captured the championship you sought so relentlessly.

"You did, and you deserve it." He opened his arms for you, and you didn't think twice before falling into the embrace, the chaotic storm within you weirdly subsiding slightly when you fell into his arms. You didn't have time to dwell on it before he pulled away and gently cupped your face in his hands. "You deserve it. Now show everyone why you the champ."

You looked down at the Raw Women's Championship in your hands, the gold reflecting the dim lights of the chamber, and held it high above your head, the sinister satisfaction still lingering in your eyes.

You finally had what you wanted, the Raw Women's Championship, and the whole women's locker room fearing your name. You didn't care if they respected you, because fear was the true power.

Jimmy and Jey stood on either side of you, holding up their hands in a one sign, the three of you standing tall, an embodiment of ruthless dominance, and leaving more questions than answers in the minds of the WWE Universe.

Why were you with the Bloodline? Why did you unleash such brutality on Becky Lynch? Why were Jimmy and Jey by your side in this calculated rampage?

They'd get their answers soon.

"You did good. I'm proud of you." Roman smiled at you with a hint of approval  and something else you couldn't pick up on as you came to the back, bringing you into a dark embrace. "You showed them what it means to be a true champion," he continued, his voice low and resonant. "No one will underestimate you again."

You nodded at Roman when he pulled away from you, the darkness in his eyes mirroring the intensity you felt within yourself. "I appreciate it, Roman. It's just the beginning. There's a lot more they haven't seen yet." Your voice held a quiet determination, the fire within you still burning bright. Roman nodded in understanding, a sense of mutual understanding passing between the two of you.

Roman turned to Jimmy and Jey, who were standing next to you with a mix of satisfaction, concern, and pride. "You guys need to deliver too. Jey, get ready for your match. Jimmy, go back to the locker room, I'll take Y/N to the trainers and we'll be back."

Jey furrowed his brows at Roman's command, a slight tension in the air. "You sure you're good, Y/N?" he asked, his concern genuine.

You gave a nod, the dark satisfaction still lingering in your eyes. "I'm fine, Jey. Just go out there and do what you do best. We'll handle the aftermath later."

Jey was confused at Roman's decision. Roman never offered to take someone to the trainers unless there was a significant reason. He didn't think it was smart to have your anger clash with Roman's but he trusted Roman's judgment and giving you one last hug, headed towards the entrance ramp for his match.

Roman  led you towards the trainers' area, his steps deliberate and his expression unreadable. Anyone who tried to cross your path would be stopped by Roman's glare that cut through the air like a knife. As you walked side by side with Roman, you couldn't help but feel a sense of validation. You had proven your worth in the most brutal way possible, and now you were under the protection of the Tribal Chief himself.

The trainers' room was a mix of antiseptic smells and the low hum of conversations. The medical staff looked up as Roman entered, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of you, still in your ring gear, holding the Raw Women's Championship. Roman's presence demanded respect, and they quickly shuffled to clear a space for you.

Roman gestured for you to take a seat on one of the medical benches. "Sit down. Let them check you out," he commanded, his voice carrying a stern authority.

The trainers approached cautiously, assessing the visible signs of the intense match you had just endured. They checked for any potential injuries, bruises, or signs of a concussion, but you remained stoic and unresponsive to their efforts. Roman observed with a watchful eye, ensuring that everything was done to his satisfaction.

As the medical staff continued their examination, Roman's gaze never wavered from you. There was a complex mix of emotions in his eyes—pride, perhaps a hint of admiration, and something else that remained elusive. He didn't say much, but his silent presence spoke volumes.

"Don't do that." He piped up when you tried to calm your anger down slightly, his voice cutting through the silence in the room.

"What?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"Don't try to suppress it. Embrace it," Roman said, his tone unwavering. "You showed them what you're capable of tonight. Let that darkness fuel your dominance. The more they fear you, the more control you have. I need that tonight."

You nodded at Roman's cold wisdom, but furrowed your brows at his last sentence. "What do you mean, 'I need that tonight'?"

Roman's expression remained enigmatic, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. "You trust me right? Trust our friendship?"

You nodded slowly, uncertain about where this conversation was heading but choosing to trust Roman's judgment. "Of course, Roman. You know I do."

"And I've never betrayed you, right?" 

You stared into Roman's eyes, searching for any hidden motives. "No, Roman. You've always had my back."

"Good." Roman's smile deepened, revealing a rare sense of camaraderie. "Tonight, you've proven yourself. Now, I need you to trust me a little more. I have a plan, and I need you to play a crucial part in it. Can I count on you?"

You studied Roman's face, his eyes holding a mysterious glint. "Of course, Roman. I trust you," you replied, determination in your voice. "Whatever you need, I'm in."

Roman's smile widened. "Against my better judgement, and my ego, I know that Kevin will be the one to win that number one contender's match against Jey tonight. I need him to be the one challenging for my Universal Championship. But I also need him softened up, vulnerable. That's where you come in."

Roman's plan started to unfold, and you listened intently to his instructions. As he laid out the details, you realized the significance of your role in the larger scheme. The darkness within you, the dominance you had displayed in the Elimination Chamber, was now a strategic asset for Roman's plan.

"I need you to make a statement, Y/N. Show everyone in that match, and especially Kevin Owens, that you're not just a champion—they should fear you," Roman explained, his voice a low rumble that resonated with authority.

"I know you and Kevin have a history, and you and Sami as well. But when the cards are on the table, Kevin will always choose to backstab you. Will always choose to betray you. How many years have you given him chances? How many times has he let you down?"

Roman's words resonated, stirring up the memories of past betrayals and the pain that accompanied them. 

"When was the last time you gave him a chance and he didn't disappoint?" Roman's question hung in the air, the weight of the truth behind it sinking in. "This is your opportunity, Y/N. Take it. Show everyone that you're not to be taken lightly, and in doing so, finally get the revenge for the years of betrayals. And as for Sami-"

Roman sensed your smoldering anger and paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"Sami Zayn is an annoyance, a distraction. He might be your friend, so I am giving you the leniency to deal with him swiftly, efficiently. But what matters is  making it clear that anyone who stands in your way will face the consequences."

If you were in any other mental state, and didn't feel the smoldering anger  within you, you would have hesitated and questioned Roman's motives, told him you wouldn't hurt your best friends.

But in this current state, you couldn't think clearly. The darkness within you, fueled by the betrayal and the desire for retribution, clouded your judgment, and Roman's words only resonated and fueled that anger.

And that was Roman's plan all along.

Make you so angry and unleashing that dark side so that you couldn't see your morals in jeapordy, the bigger picture, couldn't question the morality of the actions he was asking you to take. In that moment, you were a pawn in his game, a tool to achieve his objectives.

"I know it's a lot to take in, but trust me, Y/N. This is the path we need to walk to secure our dominance," Roman concluded, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that brooked no argument. "As long as you're with me, as long as you embrace that darkness within you, there's nothing we can't achieve."

You nodded, a cold determination settling within you. The darkness, once a mere undercurrent, now surged to the forefront, shaping your thoughts and actions. "I'm with you, Roman. Whatever it takes to secure our dominance."

Roman clasped your shoulder, a silent acknowledgment passing between the two of you. "Get ready, Y/N. Go to Jimmy. It's time to make a statement."

You watched on the screen as the Men's Elimination Chamber match was taking place, bodies being violently thrown against the steel, the carnage unfolding inside the chamber. The raw aggression and brutality were palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had set the tone for the night.

Jey, Sami, Kevin, Daniel Bryan, and Cesaro were all engaged in a fierce battle for the opportunity to challenge Roman Reigns for the Universal Championship. As the chaos unfolded, you could feel the anticipation building, knowing that your part in Roman's plan was about to come into play.

You winced as Kevin tossed Sami into the steel structure, the impact echoing through the arena. Jimmy patted your back as a silent comfort, and Roman turned to you at the movement. 

"You see what he does to his so called best friends, Y/N?" Roman's voice held a mix of disdain and calculated satisfaction. "This is your chance to make them understand, to make Kevin Owens understand, that betrayal comes with consequences."

You nodded in agreement, your eyes fixed on the screen as the chaos continued to unfold. You let out a sigh of relief as Kevin hit Sami with a stunner to pin him for the three count. At least you didn't have to hurt your Sami directly, but the next part of Roman's plan was now in motion.

Cesaro and Bryan were fighting on the top of one of the pods, each trying to gain the upper hand. Kevin and Jey were slamming each other into the steel cage, the sounds of bodies colliding reverberating through the arena. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and Roman's plan was inching closer to its climax.

1.

Cesaro was pinned by Daniel, who had just delivered a brutal running knee. The referee counted, and Cesaro was eliminated.

2. 

Jey managed to eliminate Daniel Bryan with a superkick, leaving only Kevin Owens and Jey Uso as the remaining competitors.

3.

Kevin hit a Pop-up Powerbomb on Jey Uso followed by a stunner, securing the victory and earning the right to challenge Roman Reigns for the Universal Championship.

"Now!" Roman roared at you, a command that snapped you out of your intense focus on the screen.

 It was time.

Jey, angry after being eliminated, stomped on Kevin, not allowing him a moment of respite after the grueling match. You followed Roman's lead, storming down the ramp with a determined stride and Jimmy right behind you.

Jey had Kevin trapped in between the steel steps and the chamber wall, delivering relentless stomps and kicks. The exhaustion from the match was evident on Kevin's face, but the anger in Jey's eyes fueled the assault.

"Y/N, make your move," Roman's voice echoed through the arena, urging you to unleash the darkness within.

“Y/N!” Jey screamed through the cell, beckoning you to join him.

 You looked to Roman; and any slight hesitation you might’ve had was washed away by the adrenaline coursing through your veins and Roman’s relentless gaze that was a silent demand for loyalty. If you backed out now, the consequences were grave. 

You stepped into the chamber, the cold steel beneath your boots sending shivers up your spine. Jey motioned for you to come closer to him, and it was like he sensed your inner conflict, giving you a comforting and encouraging look.

The anticipation in the air was palpable as you approached Jey, the steel structure enclosing both of you in a sinister dance of betrayal and loyalty.

“Do it!” Jey roared, his eyes filled with intensity. He kicked Kevin to make sure he stayed down before turning back to you, holding the steel doors open. “Do it, Y/N!”

And for just a second, you felt the weight of the moment, torn between loyalty and the darkness Roman demanded. You were sobered from the darkness, and for a split second, you stared at Kevins face, and wondered, just wondered, if the roles were switched, if Kevin would choose you. 

And just like that, the moment ended. 

“Ahh!” Kevin groaned out in pain when you took over from Jey, and just like you did with Becky, slammed the steel cage into Kevin’s arm, the steel deliciously meeting flesh.

 The impact reverberated through the chamber, a savage exclamation of your allegiance to the Tribal Chief. You slammed the steel into his arm over and over again, yelling at Kevin to stay down. 

“I told you to stay out of my business!” You screamed with each vicious strike, the sound echoing in the unforgiving steel chamber. “I told you to stay away from Roman! But you never listen!”

 Your voice was filled with a mix of anger, hurt, and frustration, the echoes bouncing off the cold steel walls. “You never listen to me! You never CHOOSE ME!” 

You rammed the steel cage into Kevin's arm one final time before letting go of the steel, leaving him writhing in pain on the unforgiving steel floor. You were breathing just as heavily as you ran your hands across the cold steel cage, the darkness within you pulsating with a newfound intensity. 

Your loyalty to Roman was now etched in the vicious strikes you delivered to Kevin. The symbolism of the steel meeting flesh resonated with the dominance Roman sought, and you had become the instrument of his will.

Jey wrapping an arm around your shoulder jolted you out of your thoughts, and you looked up at him, meeting his beautiful brown eyes that no longer held fear about your loyalty.  

The Tribal Chief stood outside the chamber, a satisfied smirk on his face, witnessing the culmination of your allegiance. The crowd's mixed reactions were drowned out by the satisfaction in Roman's gaze.

 Jey squeezed your shoulder and brought you closer to him as Roman made his way towards the ring, the Universal Championship draped over his shoulder. 

“I’m proud of you.” Jey whispered into your ear, his words barely audible over the fading echoes of the chaos you had unleashed. His lips grazed your ear, and the tension in the chamber slowly shifted to a moment of eerie calm. “Kevin didn’t pick you, but I chose you, Y/N.”

You know this is the part where the guilt should hit you, but it didn’t. Why would you feel guilty? You warned Kevin that you were a force to be reckoned with, that loyalty to Roman Reigns was your priority.

And what did he do?

Kevin defied your warnings, and now he had to pay the price. And you knew that if the roles were reversed and you were in Kevin's place, he wouldn't have shown you any mercy. 

So why should you extend a courtesy he wouldn't offer?

You would only feel guilty if you hurt Sami, and thankfully Sami was eliminated before the crucial moment.  Was it fate? You didn’t know. But what you did know was that you had proven your allegiance to Roman in the most brutal fashion, and you didn’t regret it one bit. 

Your head snapped towards Roman when he entered the ring, a smirk of satisfaction on his face. The Tribal Chief's presence commanded attention, and he nodded approvingly at the scene before him—the aftermath of your loyalty displayed in a brutal ballet of steel and flesh.

"You've made the right choice," Roman declared, his voice authoritative. He brought you into a dominant embrace, his hand gripping the back of your neck. The intensity in his eyes mirrored the satisfaction of a plan executed flawlessly. “I’m proud of you. Do you acknowledge me?”

You pulled away from Roman, a cold determination in your eyes. "I acknowledge you, Tribal Chief," you responded, the weight of those words resonating with a sense of finality.

Roman smiled at your words, a predatory glint in his eyes. His plan had come to fruition, and now he held not only the Universal Championship but also an unwavering allegiance from you, and that would not only hurt Kevin physically, but also leave an indelible mark on his psyche, solidify his dominance in the WWE and also secure your place by his side.

And that was the night you fully embraced the darkness, fully committing to Roman Reigns as the Tribal Chief.

"You wanted a match with me, Kevin?" Roman continued, tauntingly addressing the writhing Kevin Owens on the cold steel floor. He leaned down, his face inches from Kevin's, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

"Well, you got it. Get up." Roman straightened up, never breaking eye contact with Kevin. "Jey, Jimmy, grab him. Y/N, stand back," Roman commanded, and you complied without hesitation.

Jey and Jimmy, sensing Roman's desire for a prolonged punishment, dragged Kevin up. The once defiant fighter now seemed broken and battered, a shell of his former self.

Roman circled Kevin like a predator closing in on its prey. He reveled in the moment, savoring the defeat he orchestrated. The crowd's cheers or jeers were inconsequential; all that mattered was the dominance he asserted over the WWE and the loyalty you had pledged.

Jey and Jimmy lowered Kevin to the ground on his knees, and Roman chuckled at the pitiful sight before him. The Tribal Chief stood tall, the Universal Championship glistening in the harsh arena lights. Roman's eyes bore into Kevin, the intensity of his gaze almost suffocating.

"Look at me." When Kevin refused to comply, Roman harshly yanked Kevin's face up by his hair. "I said, look at me."

Kevin's eyes met Roman's, a mix of defiance and pain still lingering. Roman chuckled again, a dark amusement coloring the sound.

"You thought you could beat me? Challenge me? Take my place?" Roman's voice dripped with disdain, his words a venomous reminder of the consequences of defiance. "You never had a chance, Kevin."

With a swift motion, Roman delivered a thunderous Superman Punch, the impact sending Kevin sprawling to the mat. The crowd's reactions were drowned out by the dominant presence of the Tribal Chief.

"Your mistake was not acknowledging me," Roman continued, pacing around the fallen Kevin. "You see, Y/N understands. Loyalty is everything. And you seriously thought she would choose you over me when you have no loyalty? When you betrayed her trust time and time again?" Roman's voice was filled with a cold certainty, his words cutting through the air like a razor.

"I might hurt her, but I won't let anyone else hurt her." Kevin spat blood onto the cold steel floor, his defiance unwavering even in the face of such overwhelming odds. Roman chuckled at Kevin's feeble attempt to maintain his pride.

"You think she believes you Kevin? Look at her." Kevin weakly raised his head to glance at you. The conflict in your eyes was replaced with a steely resolve, a clear reflection of the choice you had made. Roman's smirk widened at the sight, the confirmation of your allegiance bringing him a sense of triumph.

"She will never forgive you. She will never be by your side again, she will never be your best friend again. And you know whose fault it is that she choose me? You." Roman laughed, a sinister satisfaction in his tone. "You pushed her away, and now she's where she belongs."

"You see, Y/N," Roman said, turning his attention to you, "this is the price of betrayal. Loyalty is not just a word; it's an action. And tonight, you've shown where your allegiance lies."

He gestured for you to step forward, and you did so with a mix of pride and reluctance. Roman handed you the Universal Championship, the weight of the title in your hands a symbolic gesture of your newfound allegiance.

"Finish it," Roman commanded, his eyes locked onto yours. The crowd's murmurs and gasps filled the arena as you stood over Kevin, holding the championship that now represented your loyalty to the Tribal Chief.

Your eyes locked with Kevins, and you could see the pain and betrayal in his gaze. The conflict within you briefly resurfaced, but Roman's dominance held you in its grip.

"You're not their blood, and even if you were, they'd never treat you like family." Kevin coughed out, his words strained. The bitter taste of defeat mixed with defiance lingered in the air.

"And you are?" You spat at him, the darkness within you responding to Roman's influence. The crowd's boos and cheers seemed distant, drowned out by the intensity of the moment.

"You know the answer to that." Kevin's voice trembled with a mix of pain and disappointment, steeling himself for what he knew was coming. For a second, you hesitated, the weight of Kevin's words lingering in the air. But then, as if on cue, Roman's gaze bore into yours, a silent command to complete your task.

You slammed the title onto Kevin's face with a resounding thud, making him crumple to the mat, sealing your fate with Kevin's defeat.

Roman laughed proudly, raising your hand along with the Universal Championship. The arena erupted in a mix of cheers and boos, but none of it mattered in the face of the dominance Roman had asserted, and you had willingly embraced.

"Ring the bell." Roman ordered at the referee outside the ring, who seemed hesitant but complied with Roman's command. Roman easily pinned Kevin for the three-count, making Kevin's efforts in vain.

The referee signaled for the bell, declaring Roman Reigns the winner, the Universal Champion who had not only conquered Kevin Owens physically but also broken his spirit in the most ruthless manner with you by his side.

You had done it. Proven your loyalty, passed the test, proven that you are the champion you said you are, and that you were willing to go to any lengths for the Tribal Chief.

And as you stared at Kevin lying defeated on the cold steel mat, the red blood drying on his face, your own title wrapped around your waist, you felt a surge of power, the intoxicating allure of victory and loyalty.

You looked down at the red stained title in your hands, the metallic taste of triumph in the air.

Red.

Red was definitely your favorite color now.

"I think we gotta talk about us now." Jey moaned out as you straddled his waist and kissed down his neck in the confines of your hotel room, high on adrenaline and power. The room was dimly lit, and the shadows played on the walls, mirroring the complexities of the choices you had made in the ring.

"Later." You sucked on the sweet spot on his neck, hoping to distract him from the conversation you needed to have. The taste of victory still lingered on your lips, and the primal energy from the ring had seeped into the intimacy of the hotel room.

Jey's hands gripped your hips, his breath hitching at your touch. "Wait, wait-fuck." Jey groaned as you licked a stripe on his chest, savoring the lingering taste of triumph.

"Y/N," he managed to say, catching your attention. You paused, looking into his eyes, the darkness within you still flickering like a flame.

"Is this not okay?" You asked softly, gently tracing your fingers along his jawline. Jey sighed, a mix of pleasure and contemplation in his eyes.

"It's more than okay. It's perfect," he admitted, his hands now cupping your face. "But you made a choice, a powerful one. You embraced the darkness for Roman, for us."

You leaned back, studying Jey's expression. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a desire to understand the depth of your commitment. "Jey, I did what I had to do. Roman needed me, and I made the right choice."

Jey nodded, but there was a hint of concern in his gaze. "Did you do it for just him, or for me too?"

You met Jey's gaze, your mind processing the weight of his question. The room, once filled with the aftermath of triumph, now felt heavy with unspoken truths. Your allegiance to Roman had solidified, but what did it mean for the connection you shared with Jey?

"I did it for both of you," you admitted, your voice steady. "I did it for the family, for the unity. Roman needed my loyalty, and in choosing him, I'm choosing all of us."

You shifted so that you were now sitting beside Jey, your fingers tracing abstract patterns on his chest. "I want to be with you, I want to have you in any way that you'll let me." You paused, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air. Jey remained silent, his eyes searching yours for sincerity.

"I want us to be powerful together, Jey," you continued, your voice a gentle whisper. "I don't want to lose what we have, but I had to prove myself to Roman, to the family. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

Jey sighed, his fingers gently grazing over your intertwined hands. "And how do you feel about me?"

You looked at him as if he should already know the answer. "Jey, I had the option to back away from all this, to grab that title and hit you with it, but I didn't. I chose this, I chose Roman, and I chose you. I feel… conflicted, yet empowered. This is the path I've taken, and I want you with me on this journey."

You tightened your grip on Jey's hand, seeking reassurance. "I like you, and I want us to be together. I want there to be an us. We can take it slow, I think we both need that after tonight."

Jey took in your words, the complexity of the situation reflected in his eyes. He nodded slowly, a mixture of understanding and acceptance in his expression. His beautiful brown eyes locked onto yours, and he brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"I'm with you, Y/N," Jey said, his voice a reassuring murmur. "Whatever path you choose, I'm riding with you. Just promise me one thing."

You looked at him, waiting for his request.

"No matter what happens, no matter what Roman says or does, you never turn your back on me." Jey squeezed your hand even tighter. "I've had too many people turn their backs on me, and I can't handle losing you like that. Even if Kevin and Sami try to drive a wedge between us, promise me you won't let them succeed."

Jey pressed his forehead against yours, and you could feel the vulnerability in his plea. "Promise me you won't leave me."

"I promise, Jey," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "I won't turn my back on you. No matter what."

It felt like hours as you waited for Jey to respond. The room held its breath, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.

Finally, Jey broke out into a genuine, heartfelt smile, and in one swift motion, pulled you into his lap and brought you into a mind numbing kiss.

He licked at your lips, his hands exploring the contours of your body, a mixture of passion and reassurance in his touch. Every touch felt like heaven, every kiss felt like he was bringing you to life after the darkness of the ring.

"You can't leave me." That statement was backed up by the hard press of his lips against yours.

"I won't." A promise from you that was reassured with the soft caress of your tongue in his mouth. And for the rest of the night, the two of you lost yourselves in reassuring each other, not caring who heard or what consequences awaited in the world outside, and you realized that the anger subsided with every touch of his, and with every dampening of it came with an ease you only ever felt with one other person.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, that one other person stood outside your hotel room, heart dropping at the sounds of passion and commitment emanating from within. Sami had pretend to the hotel clerk that he was your manager, needing to check on you after the intense match.

The truth was, he wanted to make things right with you after seeing everything that happened tonight, wanted to try to get the woman he lov- the woman who was his best friend, back.

He had come bearing a bouquet of flowers, and two tickets to Montreal, to see your family that he knew you missed, ready to apologize and express his feelings. However, the sounds of intimacy between you and Jey shattered his hopes like fragile glass.

Sami's heart sank, realizing that he might have lost you for good. That should be him making you feel loved and wanted, not Jey. He leaned against the wall outside your room, the weight of the realization hitting him hard.

The bouquet of flowers in his hands and the gift bag suddenly felt like a pathetic offering in the face of the passion and commitment he could hear behind the door. The satisfaction he had at seeing Kevin broken in the ring was now overshadowed by the bitter taste of his own defeat in matters of the heart.

Sami took a deep breath, fighting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn't bring himself to knock on the door, to interrupt the intimate moment between you and Jey.

Instead, he turned away, his steps heavy as he walked down the corridor, leaving the flowers and tickets at your doorstep, a silent acknowledgment of his failed attempt to win you back.

Before he went to the elevator, the sadness that enveloped him left and was replaced by motivation. You were his best friend, and he couldn't let this be the end. Sami would find a way to make things right, to prove to you that he could change and be the person you needed.

As the elevator doors closed, Sami took a deep breath, a determined glint in his eyes. He wasn't gonna let Jey win this without a fight. Sami had lost the battle tonight, but he was ready to wage a war for your heart.

Sami would do anything to make you see that he was the one who truly cared about you, who had been there for you through thick and thin, to have you in his life.

Even if that took hours, days months, or years, he would find a way to win you back. He had some business to take care of first with matters of the IC title, but eventually he would focus on winning back your heart.

Sami Zayn walked away from your hotel room, determined to prove that he was the one who deserved your loyalty and love.

And he would do anything, even join the Bloodline, to prove it.

[eluxcastar]

One of Repetition — Chapter One

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: your sudden dismissal from your position of harbinger, and the fatui as a whole, marks the end of the largest chapter in your life. you had never known a day without the tsaritsa's guidance, and you are set to never know another with it.

୨୧﹑genre :: angst

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader is a harbinger, reader has a pyro vision, capitano is still not human and I haven’t played fontaine or natlan ngl, possible ooc, ACTUALLY EDITED FOR ONCE OMG RIRI CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

୨୧﹑words :: 4.6k

so erm. nooooo it hasn't been like two months since I updated 👀 what are you talking aboutttt. so, yeah, that took me forever (mostly because I was planning things), but I have the next chapter written already, so it'll be just an editing job, most likely 😔 I had this one prewritten too, but ig I decided I hated it. I ended up rewriting most of it. we aren't even out of oneshot content yet omg 😭

my head is on backwards rn it's eleven pm, and I'm supposed to be beta reading someone's fic for them 💀 I just spent all day struggling to fix this

also I have a discord server 🙏 you should join it I spill spoilers there, and there are fun people

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

Months pass before there is talk of the crowning of a new Harbinger, the people abuzz with the news and eager to know all they can, preferably before the aristocrats feel like sharing the night of the event. You considered attending the ceremony but ultimately decided against it. You may have the courage to do so, but you are certainly not stupid enough to wander into the waiting heart of the Fatui's clutches. You have waited patiently for this moment and can easily wait longer to hear the news.

No longer treating the inn like a home, you settled somewhere in the plains of another nation only a few weeks after you had first arrived there, sensing the barkeep was getting sick of you and the attention you were drawing to his otherwise obscure establishment. 

People settled there for a night, saw you were there, and word of mouth lured others as they boasted of their encounters with you to travellers who would come to see you. While this influx of new customers certainly boosted business, it also had the unintended consequence of driving away those who preferred to keep a low profile and valued its place as being for those 'in the know'. In other words, while you were great for a boom in business, you were bad for long-term business. 

The barkeep pushing the mora you tried to pay him to pay for another night was enough to send the message he wanted you gone, out by morning. The idea you were not to come back for quite some time was clear to you in the look he gave you. 

Liyue, on the other hand, is filled with mountains and teeming with visitors who have come to witness the highly anticipated Rite of Descension. Surprisingly, the influx of tourism only adds to the overall enjoyment of your experience. You would think that tourism would hinder your time there, but on the contrary, it makes it better in a way. The locals are expecting an influx of outsiders to come to see the Geo Archon in person, and, as a result, they are not only willing to hire help for the time but also serve later at food stalls, and the place is livelier. 

People notice you less as you blend into a crowd of tourists who also don't belong, and you manage to slip under the radar.

You have no interest in the Rite of Descension nor the Geo Archon, and most of your time is spent outside the harbour.

Wangshu Inn, a mid-point between the harbour and the border to Mondstadt, is still within Liyue. It is quieter—which is neither good nor bad—and home to some very understanding owners. They ask so few questions it almost alarms you, but their non-intrusive nature is a welcome change. You crave respite from the chaos and theatrics you were revelling in as a reprieve from the stress you were under, wondering how you would live your life now. At one point, you relished being hailed as a hero by many, but it soon became overwhelming, and you found yourself trapped in the clutches of Brighella once again.

Whether by design or happenstance, your identity had begun to consume your life again, and if you wanted to have any hope of living outside of Brighella, then that had to stop. And so, you sought a place to lay down your burdens and unwind, leading you to where you are now.

You arrive as your old self, and despite clinging to it since your travels had begun, you remove every piece of your armour for what you intend to be a long time and leave it all neatly arranged in a corner like a pile of folded laundry for when you eventually return to it.

Something compels you to finally don the fresh outfit you acquired during your journey through Fontaine. You collect the many pieces from where you stuffed them into your bag and lay them out before undressing from your underclothes. Admittedly, floor-length layered dresses, bustles and extravagance are not your style. If they were, you probably wouldn't have spent years making clinking noises every time you moved your arms. Years of being cooped up in a heavy suit of armour have attuned you to a hulking weight dragging down your every step.

But…

There's something alluring about trying out a new look, especially when it involves pants that don't weigh more than a third of your body weight. Besides, you always kind of liked the showy outfits of Fontaine anyway, just…not yet. Now seems like a good time to dip your toes in.

You almost don't recognise yourself when you finally see yourself in the mirror. Perhaps you got too used to seeing a metal helmet staring back at you and a suit of armour for a body, but the fresh air against your skin and lighter clothes feels…good. 

For the first time in a while, you feel free.

You look at yourself and see a girl. You've always seen a guard or a statue staring back at you, and you can't see the eyes hidden beneath that mask. What you're met with is a girl with messy hair and colourless eyes desperately trying to tame it down as if she's become self-aware that her helmet mussed her hair—it's a girl whose laziness is laid bare.

You watch your own hand pat uselessly at a knot as if that will wish the tangle to stay down by the force of sheer determination. Were those knots always there? You swear they weren't. Though perhaps foolishly, you hope not. You've been walking around like this for almost two weeks now.

Maybe that's why they tried to talk you into getting your hair done…

It's pointless. Your arm drops back to your side. You can't help but admire your reflection as you don a dress that falls just about your knees, even if you're doing it while you stumble to pull on the pair of boots you got with it while still standing. You surrender to crouch down and tie the laces.

When you stand, you return to marvelling at the sight of yourself. The boots are nice. There are no creases at the bends, and you notice the unmistakable clean sheen of new leather that draws a smile to your face. The dress is different—maybe too different—as you're not sure you recognise yourself. It's a dark dress meant to be paired with an undershirt. The saleswoman managed to talk you into one with a collar laced with frills and tied at the wrists and neck with bows—it's a popular style there, supposedly—and isn't this whole 'rebranding' of your identity supposed to be about fitting in? A vest-like piece pulled around your chest belts with a loop of fabric at the front; you assume it was made to vaguely resemble the corsets worn beneath the puffier dresses you shied away from.

The new outfit is making you giddy—too giddy for your taste. You don't recall having such an innate pep in your step, only one that felt deserved, but this is different. A suit of armour, no matter how shiny it may be, has never made you twirl like an overeager dancer just to see the fabric of your skirt catch the air and flow around your legs, only to fall back into place when you stop.

You find satisfaction is usually earned through hardship and perseverance, derived from a fundamental need to complete something you started. This is different. For once, your satisfaction with yourself comes from the beginning of something. This time, happiness comes to you without reason, a given right in this world where you revel in the lightness of your steps and the quiet sway of gentle, breathable fabric.

The jagged teeth you see in your smile can be hidden away behind a tight smile that looks awkward on your face. You ignore the sharp points you can only compare to an animal and pretend your eyes bear a more saturated hue.

Nothing significant has been accomplished. It's not like when you first descended the Abyss and returned unscathed despite your doubts. It's simple. It's human. It doesn't even seem like you made much progress toward becoming yourself when you lay it all out on paper. You bought clothes and wore them, that's it. 

Something about it feels so much like yourself. The freedom to stray from what you thought you were until now, something you hadn't dared to try before.

Yeah...you should unpack that hairbrush next.

-

One thing you like about Wangshu Inn is how it serves even people who aren't staying there. The ground floor overlooking the water is designated as almost a kind of restaurant. People filter in and out to be served, stay for lunch, meet with friends, and take breaks from their missions. It is meant as a place for travelling merchants, but you find that is not all its patrons see in it.

You are not nearly as sociable as you were in the Snezhnayan bar you were at, but this seems more manageable anyway. People leave you alone and don't crowd your table and head with presence and noise. You actually manage to relax when you're no one, even if you're fidgety and idle, because you have no idea what relaxing is supposed to look like when you're used to spending all of your time doing something, being somewhere, talking to someone. Peace is as hard-earned as victory, and the unfamiliar feeling of relaxation is both comforting and unsettling.

You strike quaint conversations, all of which feel far more enriching than any grandiose, embellished tale you got off a lowly wanderer attempting to make a name for himself on your stage. It's been a long time since you set foot in Liyue, and you don't think you've ever been here for leisure. The very concept of leisure is as foreign to you as the modern lands you're now travelling.

You wait by the lift for a ride back up to your room. A merchant stands by your side, shifting his weight between his feet as he stares up at the descending contraption that seems to laze down to the lower level of the inn.

"Are you from the Adventurers' Guild?" he asks unexpectedly. Your attention snaps from your daydream back to him as you're rudely jolted from your reverie. You're suddenly hyperaware of yourself, the dumb look on your face that you're used to concealing, and the fact that you've been caught off guard.

"No," you answer. Lying to the merchant is useless when it's too easy to disprove, even when it would serve you well.

"Huh. I thought you were," the merchant remarks. "You seemed like you would be. If you've come looking for work, they'll have a place for you."

"What's it to you?" you cannot help but ask.

"I have a transport job that needs doing," he explains with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It would save me a trip and the paperwork of putting up a job."

You nod, and the conversation trails off as the empty lift lowers before the both of you, jolting to a stop as it collides with the floorboards beneath it.

The two of you step on through the open side facing you and settle somewhere around the centre, though he drifts to perch his hand against the side for a hint more stability. You notice how he avoids looking over the edge, focused on what's directly ahead of him.

"They accept anyone?" you continue, wondering how far you'd have to go with your lies to get in. Admittedly, you'd also like to distract the man a bit, even if you'd deny that part given the chance.

He looks at you with a strange gleam in his eyes like he's not sure whether to thank you or scoff at what he must think is your pity. You have no pity for anyone.

"A friend of mine said they'll take anyone," he confirms. "All you need is power, and you have a vision, so I'm sure you'll be fine."

Everything seems to think that. Visions are some god-given, unattainable relic that represents pure power. Maybe they are. They're directly attached to the gnosis every archon received at the end of the archon war. They were Celestia's harbingers of conclusion—the end of an era. After that, though the gods could fight for eternity, it would be meaningless as long as each gnosis was irrevocably tied to a land and a being who possessed the power to crush each of them in an instant. Visions are pathetic slivers of the world compared to those chess pieces.

You have long grown tired of correcting people on that front.

"Will I have to stay here?" you ask instead, meandering back to the idle conversation you imagine humans enjoy far more than batty old ramblings of the past. People from Liyue snicker and sneer in the face of outsiders about their archon walking by their side, but their understanding of their archon is not as it once was.

Descending once a year is nothing compared to living amongst them as Morax used to.

"They have branches everywhere," he assures you. "They communicate with each other. I'll be here if you ever find my commission."

You knew that already, but you needed something to ask. You're saved by the bell as the lift jostles at the top of the inn, the ropes coming to yet another sudden stop and pausing to allow you to step off onto the balcony that oversees the lake and the landscape around you. Your departure is wordless as the merchant doesn't stop to say his goodbyes, eager to meet the other man waiting for him by the guard rail, who greets him with a tight smile and a handshake.

The Adventurers' Guild... You recall it forming. You've never known much about it, however, as it faded into the back of your mind practically the moment it was created. It fell into your version of obscurity naturally and never felt relevant when you were more concerned with the malformed creatures of the Abyss trying to kill you. Monitoring it was never your job, and most adventurers who find their way into the far reaches that you used to don't make it out to tell the tale.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a look at it when you get a chance. It could give you something to do.

-

Idling is in your nature, as it has been for years.

You idle because you have grown used to it. Patience, waiting, watching. You never liked it, but it is a constant that lingers. Unfortunately, as expected, you are sick of idling. It grew dull way back when you spent night after night bragging to an inn of drunks about something you never did.

So, you cement your name for the very first time.

For hours—perhaps a day—you paced your room at the inn, agonising over an answer to a question you weren't even sure would be posed. Innkeepers don't question paying hands. Adventurers do, especially guilds of them. They want to know all they can.

And you don't have a name.

Perhaps you once did—you certainly can't recall—but whatever you have been called, you no longer have a right to such names, not Brighella and not anything else. You need a new name, and in the absence of your mother, you will have to make your own.

But you cannot decide what.

You spent the night wondering and then the morning, as you woke with a sense of unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels more real than it has ever felt before, the weight of such a thing finally bearing down on you more than drinking and lying and weaving tales of a great adventure you never went on could ever hope to. You suspect people know that many stories you told were embellished or complete lies, but the appeal was never in truth.

The appeal was in a good story to entertain the drunken, and names are not made solely for drunken ears.

Before you descend the tree of Wangshu Inn, you have made your choice.

By the time you come to stand before the two organisers of the Liyue Adventurers' Guild on duty today, you force yourself to make peace with it and scribble the only way you can think to spell it down on the paper they give to you. It's the same old handwriting you recognise to be your own, not made for documents, signed by the weathered hand of a warrior making up a signature on the spot in the cursive hand you have always had.

You signed most of your words to the Tsaritsa that way, told of the deaths of a thousand men, more truthful tales of your ventures through the Abyss.

You withhold the stories, sliding the paper back to the woman with a cursory glance her way, seeking the answers to questions you don't want to ask. She takes it from you, collecting it in her hands and reading it in a brief flicker of her eyes across the page. 

"It's official things," she had told you. "The Snezhnaya branch wants documents of all new and current members, especially now with everything that's going on there."

"Of course," you respond, careful to measure your words and keep from spilling too much. "You can never be too careful."

They're searching for you.

Whether the Fatui wants them to or not, you can't say—perhaps it's someone else's prerogative. You wonder if the thought of reward has crossed everyone's mind as the rumours of your existence travel across Teyvat like wildfire. The promise of potential riches—something actually quite common in the snowy lands—is sure to lure everyone eager for mora to chase the traitorous criminal who tries to escape justice. Reward is how anything gets done in Snezhnaya. 

You're glad you left the armour in favour of the simple knee-length dress you find so much joy in. You're no longer imitating the image of Brighella, as her killer once did.

IIt is no longer a nameless charlatan they're after. You know they'll find you soon.

-

'Soon' seems to come quicker than you expected it would as the walk back, though providing no particular company, does present the same dangers as always—along with some new additions. You thought that the stray fatuus that litter the streets near the Northland Bank would be your greatest foes, a collective of walking spies who notice every passerby with the same keen eyes Pantalone personally carved into each of their loyalty-riddled heads by hand. You've noticed stares before, as you imagine many do not, or which they grew used to.

You eye them back with a scrutiny that you struggle to hide, eyes wandering down the winding stairs to a pair who talk amongst themselves without much regard, engrossed in their conversation. You doubt they would recognise you even if you passed too closely.

You narrowly avoid a salesman haggling you for attention, waving them off and hurrying past before they can finish their pitch, let alone convince you into forking over a single mora as you speed across the bridge from the harbour in pursuit of your only current home. The wind in your hair, as it never really has been before, the cold able to reach your skin in gentle touches, the caresses of wisps.

"Excuse me, miss?" a voice calls to you. From where? Your head whips around in search of the source, first forward, then above to the rock you recall seeing by the edge of the banister. 

Finally, you turn around, faced with the sight of a woman you've never met speaking with a voice you've never heard. It doesn't matter as you take in the deep purple uniform of a cicin mage with a hood adorned by two antenna-like pointed ears and littered with electric violet jewels to match the swinging lantern that crackles to life with a hearty glow—a member of the Fatui. 

The top half of her face is obscured by a mask, as is customary for most of the Fatui, but it is unmistakable the way her teeth flash in an unkind smile as you meet her gaze beneath the cover concealing her eyes. She stands with a stiff posture that gives away the impatience in her every breath and twitch of anticipation.

Has retribution finally come to stare you in the face?

Seconds pass, stuck in an unending standstill, the air thick with looming tension. Silence is all that remains, save for the songs of birds and the whispers of breeze—it is as if neither of you are even there. 

At last, she presents you with a letter. It is sealed with a long-dried splatter of wax decorated in the raised details of the stamp of a Harbinger. She extends it towards you, expecting you to take it sooner rather than later, as she taunts it before you with a jeering wave of the envelope.

"From the Damselette," she explains curtly.

You snatch the object from her with a huff of annoyance, having half the mind to snap for it, though you realise quickly enough that you have no actual authority over her—not in her mind. You look it over, taking in the seal—indeed the mark of the Damselette—and flipping it to check the front to spy if your title is penned upon it. It's blank.

"What could the Damselette want with me?" you ask her.

"Perhaps a warning." The words slip by, quiet but noticeable, immediately catching your attention. You raise an eyebrow at her. 

Her contempt for your very presence unveils itself with the sharpness of her words, the darkness brought into the light with the ugly sight of an expression that reads like the rot of a once-fresh fruit. 

You're very aware of the fact that her finding you means she knows something—perhaps more than she should. You are not familiar with her. It is unlikely that she ever worked under your command, though you'd be a liar to say you memorised every face that matched a name in your division. However, it is possible that she might've held a certain level of regard for Brighella, which has since turned to hostility as rumours of her arrogant killer run rampant. 

"I don't know. I'm not privy to those things," the mage adds.

In thought, you trace her from head to toe, scrutinising her for any indication of where her animosity came from. However, there is nothing that gives away her motives. You break your gaze away from her and glance down at the letter in your hand. 

"Walk with me," you say without leaving room for argument as you begin to lead her down the path away from the harbour. "I suggest you get a better hold of your tongue. They don't like it when you're rude to their guests."

Her smile does not waver, even as she obeys your invitation. Maybe she knows you were not asking. "You are not a guest," she retorts pointedly, stating that fact with glaringly false politeness.

You scoff despite your indignance. "Everyone who receives correspondence from a Harbinger is a guest," you tell her with a similar sharpness.

You suppose you can't fault her disdain when all is said and done.

The cicin mage quickens to fall into step beside you, an almost peaceful stroll taking the place of your standoff on the bridge. The mockery of something quaint is… pleasant in its own way though suffocating in another. Walking her somewhere that can't be seen from the city should not be too difficult. Maybe then, you'll finally get some peace and quiet. 

From somewhere tucked away in her clothing, she pulls what appears to be a knife from your peripheral vision and points it at you, but you tilt your head just enough to find it is only a blunt letter opener balanced in the palm of her hand, waiting to be picked up.

"I was ordered to stay until you had read the letter to deliver her your response," she says.

You pluck the knife from her hand, spinning it into place with a flick of your fingers—some fool's party trick you picked up gods know how many years ago—and free the contents with a single swipe of the blade, hearing the satisfying tear of the paper you couldn't help but always like. 

Just as the cicin mage believes you are a murderer, the letter addresses you as such—as if it were addressed to the Damselette's dear friend's killer in this volatile hour. Your lies have reached Columbina's ears. Moreover, she is playing along with them with a coy string of tall tales and pretty lies you imagine sound nicer to the ears of all who hear them than a single word from your mouth ever has. That's why she's the one with a title like Damselette rather than you. You never did make a very convincing helpless maiden.

You expected to find scrawls of threats and unfair deals demanded of you in the name of Her Majesty, but it is instead only an innocuous update on what is happening regarding your position—the reassurance that they have not violated the terms of the agreement made. All of the danger you currently face is your own fault, as Columbina less-than-subtly implies to you through her no-doubt carefully worded reasoning and explanations. All you see is a half-hearted apology and an excuse to tell you that you've once again made trouble for her, though you should've expected a scolding. You've earned many and received few. Preparations set them back, supposedly.

While you imagine preparing not only a Harbinger's funeral but a ceremony to announce their successor does take time, it would not take this much time with how prepared they were to kill you off in the first place—it was a planned betrayal. You imagine they picked the flowers for your coffin long before you caught wind of it. Quelling the rebellions of wayward partisans who see your death as a sign from Celestia would not have helped either, nor the desertion caused by the nerves of your admirers. You're almost certain that worlds have shaken.

It just looks better if they don't appear so prepared.

For whatever reason—perhaps your consolation prize for enduring her shameless lies—she shares a secret with you. As you casually scan the letter with little care for its contents, your attention is immediately drawn to the heart of the matter. It's the very subject on everyone's minds, and all that anyone speaks of, even now, months from the day they announced your supposed 'death' to the public.

They'll name him Il Capitano—The Captain.

You would not have picked it for him yourself, but that does not mean that you hate the name—quite the opposite, in fact—as you have to admit that when you envision the name paired with his face, it suits him well. She ends the letter promising that she will 'take good care of him', though you know that your respective ideas of those words do not align or even coexist in the same universe. There is an unmistakable discrepancy between her intentions and your own, and you don't like it.

Come back to us, Brighella. You can watch everything you wanted in person.

[whiteraven87]

a thought that won’t let go… Titanic x Formula 1 Fanfiction? what do you think about this idea?

-> Main Masterlist

I’ve been fascinated by the Titanic tragedy for as long as I can remember. For years (yes, I am old), I’ve carried the idea of writing something set in that world — dramatic, emotional, and devastating.

Recently, a very specific vision has taken shape: a Titanic x Formula 1 crossover.

Working title: Fallen Time.

At its heart is forbidden love between Toto Wolff and Emilia Horner, the daughter of his longtime rival, Christian Horner. Their history is complicated — years ago, they loved the same woman. Now they meet again aboard the Titanic.

The catch? Emilia is engaged… to Lance Stroll.

Also on board:

George Russell, Emilia’s childhood friend who loves her in silence.

Lewis, Kimi Antonelli, Sebastian Vettel, Christian Horner, Charles, Carlos, Lando, Max (and Jos), Fernando, Esteban, Valtteri, Ollie, Lance, Lawrence Stroll and Niki Lauda — each carrying a past and purpose.

And then comes the iceberg. The chaos. The fight to survive.

*

I’ve already written a few chapters (bellow you can find some opening lines), but I’m unsure if there’s a point in finishing it if no one would read it — maybe it’s just a story for me.

So tell me:

Would anyone be interested in reading a Titanic x F1 fanfic like Fallen Time?

Any comment, like, or reblog would really help me decide whether to keep going or let it remain one of those stories that never see the light.

*

Since I love playing around with visuals, I had to create a little teaser for this idea — and here it is:

*

Throwing in the very start of the prologue too — maybe it’ll catch your interest. 👀💭

Note: Emilia is arround 21 and Toto and Christian are in their early-mid 40s

Prologue

Titanic, April 10th, 1912 — Southampton, England – Day of Departure

The air above the harbor hung heavy with fog and the mournful wails of ship sirens. Amid the throng of onlookers, porters, and ladies with ivory-handled fans, a murmur of multilingual conversations and echoes of joy rose from those boarding the most magnificent ship in history — the Titanic. The greatest of the great. The richest of the rich. The most deluded in their belief that they were untouchable.

Chaos reigned on the pier, but she paid no attention to it. Emilia Maria Horner — with her pale, aristocratic face and eyes the color of clouded skies — was untouched by emotion. Clad in an expensive gown, laced tightly in a corset, she waited as the servants dealt with her trunks. She walked slowly, her chin raised, gaze fixed somewhere above the heads of the gathered crowd. She didn’t want anyone to see her eyes – too clear, too sad, too pure to belong in the world that surrounded her. Echoing in her head was the rustle of the wedding dress her fiancé’s mother, Lady Stroll had made her try on a week earlier. White lace, golden thread, a suffocating future.

Beside her walked her father – Lord Christian Horner – as upright as a sword, laughing heartily with Lawrence Stroll over the promising ventures between their families. Just behind followed his wife Geri – wrapped in a blood-red coat, her face a porcelain mask. Emilia hated that woman almost as much as she hated herself – for not being able to say no.

Emilia wasn’t listening to their conversation. She stopped. Something caught her eye. Or rather – someone.

A silvery automobile pulled up next to the first-class boarding area. From it stepped a man – very tall, striking – with a kind of elegance one cannot be taught. Dressed in a black coat with silk lapels and gloves made of leather so soft it looked like velvet. His profile was sharp – a straight nose, clenched jaw, and a steely, focused, merciless gaze. His very presence seemed to cut through the air.

Torger "Toto" Wolff. A man whose name meant nothing to the London aristocracy, but whose fortune was known to every banker from Vienna to New York. He had come here to expand his ventures in America. He never imagined he would encounter the daughter of the woman who had once broken his heart.

Behind him stepped another man – shorter, red-haired, with a scar on his cheek and a wry smile. There was something fox-like about him. He glanced at Emilia and nodded politely, but he wasn’t the one who held her attention.

It was him. The first one.

The one who said nothing — but whose gaze sliced through her like a blade.

For a heartbeat, their eyes met — she, wrapped in her false composure, and he — like a shadow from the past. And something inside her trembled. Something that had been buried deep for years.

"Who is that?" she whispered.

Geri frowned.

"Wolff. Torger Wolff. An Austrian industrialist. Made his fortune in steel, railways, and shipping. Nouveau riche. A widower. And unfortunately, the object of sighs for half the mothers with marriageable daughters."

"Just make sure he stays away from our table," Christian added with disdain. "That man is a parody of a gentleman. He once had the audacity to..." he broke off, as if recalling an insult long buried. "Never mind."

Emilia said nothing. Her heart beat faster, though she didn’t know why.

She didn’t yet know that this man had not only known her mother — but had loved her.

She didn’t know that in his coat pocket lay a folded portrait of the woman she thought belonged only to the past, to her mother.

She didn’t know that in the coming days, everything she thought she knew would shatter — with a crash louder than any nightmare she had ever dared imagine.

That the Titanic, the pinnacle of mankind’s triumph over nature, would become their prison.

That his gaze would be the only thing she could cling to when the night arrived.

The night when everything would go under.

Everything except love.

Forbidden. Final. Indestructible.

*

So what do you think? Should I continue with the whole story?

Truth is, this story already exists — it lives in my mind, and it’s begging to be set free.

*

[whattheskyknows]

6, 12, 13, 19 (dr)👀

12: What's the funniest or craziest AU idea you've ever come up with?

I have an AU where (set in a universe where Danganronpa didn't happen) Tenko needs to find roommates so she can afford to live an apartment. She dreams of living with three other girls and life is good.

Unfortunately for her, that does not happen. The first person who responds to her ad is Kaito, who she reluctantly lets move in because she really needs the money - and he likes to exercise so at least they have something in common.

The next person who moves in is Ryoma, because Tenko can't say no to him when he asks. He keeps sneaking stray cats in, and she turns a blind eye even though cats aren't allowed

The final person is, tragically, Kokichi, who she wants to turn away but can't because he turns up with a sprained ankle (parkour gone wrong) and then he just, doesn't leave.

Kaito and Kokichi then become oumota, and decide to share a room, thus giving Tenko one last chance at finding a new roommate.

Tenko is ecstatic. However, it's Gonta who shows up next, and she can't turn him away because he's so polite.

13: What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day?

Already answered! (I picked Angie)

19: What's your favourite thing about the Danganronpa fandom (the people in it, not the media you're all enjoying together)?

I'm constantly blown away by how talented this fandom is? For starters, the fanfics for this fandom are amazing. I especially have a soft spot for all the rewrites!!! There are so many amazing fics on offer, and I think DRV3's fanfic writers deserve so much praise.

And also the art??? Actually, I want to thank everyone who has drawn fanart for my fics. This fandom is so generous and talented when it comes to fanart. I do want to make it crystal clear that I cherish every piece of art I've received.

DRV3's fandom is really creative!!!

I also loved taking part in gift exchanges/collabs!!! I'm very grateful I got to take part in some!!! Everyone who took part in those were also super duper talented!!!

6: I have put the WIP under a read more for the next chapter of Transfer Motive :3

Thank you for the ask!!!

6: Show us a bit of a WIP!

“Well, it’s just…” Tsumugi chews on her lip as she stares into the tunnel they’ve just cleared. “Isn’t it a little strange that the Monokubs aren’t trying to stop us? I mean, we’re right by the exit. Shouldn’t they be… I don’t know? Doing something?”

Kaito rushes over to the control panel, holding the hammer high in the air. “That’s all the more reason for us to get a move on! Like hell am I gonna give the Monokubs the chance to block the exit!”

With a grunt, Kaito slams the hammer down heavily into the control panel. The control panel crackles before shutting down, the glass screen turning dark. Kaito waits a beat to make sure the panel won’t turn back on. Once it’s clear that it won’t, he lets out a satisfied huff, the corner of his lip tugging up into a smirk. 

As the electric barrier fizzles out of existence, Kaito waits for some sort of repercussion for breaking the control panel. He half expects the Monokubs to swarm the tunnel with their Exisals. Time ticks by, but nothing happens. The Monokubs don’t appear. The Exisals don’t thunder down the tunnel. Even Monokuma doesn’t make a grand reappearance to scare everyone away.

“...Oh, I guess we can just…” Tsumugi spares one more glance into the tunnel before turning her attention back to the round door. “I guess no one's gonna stop us from leaving, huh?”

Kaito huffs. “Good.”

He doesn’t question why no one is trying to stop them from escaping. If he has time to worry, then he isn’t doing enough. Right now, the only thing that matters is opening the door and escaping. Finding help is the only thing he wants to concentrate on. 

Together, the trio grab the round door before heaving it open. Kaito grimaces as his muscles complain once more. The round door is heavy, made purely out of metal. He can hear both Tenko and Tsumugi grunting as they pull. The door drags across the floor slowly, scraping against the metal surface. 

“I… didn’t think… the door was… going to be this… heavy!” Tsumugi complains, pausing to catch her breath between words. 

“Don’t worry, it’s almost open!” Tenko reassures her. “Tenko thinks if we give it… one last pull…!”

The door suddenly slides open, causing the trio to yelp and stumble back. 

Light spills into the room. 

As he waits for his eyes to adjust, Kaito vividly pictures a happy ending. Well, a sort of happy ending. A true happy ending would’ve been all sixteen of them escaping, not just twelve. He pictures himself being greeted by a shining sun and a clear blue sky. He images green grass brushing against his ankles as he runs until he reaches civilization. He sees himself bumping into a scientist who knows how to make the perfect cure for the Despair Disease.

…And maybe also a cure for…

Kaito dares to hope that everything will work out as he waits for the light to dim.

And when it finally does…

“...Huh?”

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK (Teaser)

Get hyped!!!!!! Posting date chapter 1: 14th April

Chapter 1 is now here!

🗲summary:

It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?

🗲pairing: jungkook x f!reader 🗲teaser word count: 365 🗲full fic wc: you do nOt want to know (79k...) 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, superheroes/villains au, found family (imagine a mafia au with superpowers) 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: in the teaser: none, just some tension. general fic warnings: violence with superpowers, weapons, swearing, arguing, injury, past trauma, mentions of death

>Updates every week!!

Supercharged Masterlist

a/n: guys. it's TIIIIIME!!! how many years have you heard me talk about how I was working on a superpowered jungkook story?? I started this thing four years ago so I can't believe the moment's finally come! it's been a long ride, and most of those four years was spent not writing this, but I just couldn't stay away either! I really wanted to tell this story, and now here it is and I am so happy to be able to share it💜 Let me know in a reblog, comment or ask if you want to join my taglist for this series! Over the next week before chapter 1 is released, check back as I introduce our characters👀I'm so excited for you to meet them!

As a smile was just blooming on your face, it was halted by Namjoon's next words.

“But. You aren’t ready just yet. I want you out there with us, so I’m willing to send you out sooner than I have with others before. These are unusual times, and you have to understand this will be more dangerous than I normally send rookies to. There’s work to do, with your powers, but also…

“As much as I appreciate your trust in us, I know it doesn’t extend fully. I need my team to be able to trust each other. Every single one.”

Fixing you with a hard stare to accompany his last words, he was effective in making you shrink in your seat. You knew exactly who he was talking about.

And that person was waiting for you right outside.

On leaving the office, you found Jungkook leaning up against the wall. Jin and Namjoon had hung back, leaving you alone as you emerged, and you instantly rolled your eyes. Determined not to be deterred, you kept walking down the corridor, trying to fix your eyes ahead – firmly away from the infuriating man that watched your approach.

“Scared yet?” his smirk bled through his words. You were almost upon him at this point, and he pushed away from the wall, blocking the way with his black-clad body.

Eyes flicking up to him, unimpressed, you tapped your foot.

“Why would I be scared?”

One corner of his mouth curved up, looking you in the eye as he leaned a little closer.

“We aren’t heroes, honey.”

“Thanks for spelling that out, Jungkook,” you drawled, making to step past him.

His laughter followed you while you started walking away.

“Need help packing?” he called.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jin’s stern voice joined him, “no need. She’s not going anywhere.”

Jungkook’s silence spoke volumes.

Glancing back as you reached the end of the corridor, you were met with the livid expression that seemed so familiar. Jungkook’s eyes bulged with shock. You were sure that Jin’s hand on his shoulder was all that was holding him back.

Making the most of his eyes on you, you flashed a serene smile and walked away.

Thank you for reading!! Part 1 is coming on April 14th, and I will update every week (that's a promise, since it's already written in full!)💜

Contact me to get yourself on the tag list!

Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities

[blythings]

HARD TO LOVE | TOM BLYTH

— pairing: tom blyth x filmmaker!oc (fem.) — summary: you want all of me, i can't give that much, so don't fall too hard. — tags: exes-to-lovers, named oc, attempts at humour, mentions of other celebrities. —notes: shorter chapter today since the next chapter will mostly be written! also requests are now open icymi~ as always, comment or send me a msg if you'd like to be added to the taglist and lmk what you think 💞

← series masterlist | send me an ask →

liked by xavierdolan, sabrinacarpenter and others alexisnakamura can you reach me 📞🗣 no! 🙅‍♀️🚫 you can't! ☀️✨😡 user THE QUEEN IS BACK user you better have written a new movie during your social media break or ill cry mari.arai your photographer is 👍 user the lorde reference? timeless user 🔥

liked by user, user and others Cosmopolitan #Bottoms is already a frontrunner for the funniest movie of the year. We sat down with auteur Alexis Nakamura and chatted through all the things including her smash hit comedy, why she pledges allegiance to Mari Arai and Nicholas Galitzine, and what topics she wants to tackle next. user ali can't do one interview without mentioning nick and mari and i respect that user mentioning rachel zegler in a list of actors she wants to work with but not tom.... i see ↪ user omg lmao she's never mentioning tom ever again, not after how weird everyone acted about all of that ↪ user fr like... is it that weird that they're exes? it seems like their circles overlapped when they were both studying in nyc ↪ user i think they were seen at the same party too 👀 ↪ user WHERE ↪ user check @/tomandalexis on ig!! i think it was at mari's birthday party

liked by user, user and others tomandalexis tom and alexis spotted at mari arai's birthday party last night! user why was tom invited? ↪ user i think they were all friends back in college so even if he wasn't directly invited he could've been a plus one user the tomalexis nation feasting on crumbs 😔 ↪ user ALL WE WANTED WAS A PHOTO?? JUST ONE PHOTO user no but they're actually both so hot, i want them back together ↪ user or at least have him star in one of her movies ↪ user her movies are bad tho, tom should stay away ↪ user you clearly have shit taste

[asideoftrashplease]

Do you have any plans for more Genshin fanfics after you finish "Venti can do what he wants"? (amazing work btw, can't wait for another chapter) And if you do, would you mind sharing what they'll be about? 👀👀👀👀👀👀

MY FRIEND, I have SO MANY genshin fics half written or at the very least outlined, are you sure you want to ask me this question? Do you really want to be stuck here for the next 10 mins? HAHA anyways, not all of them will be Venti-centric or even have Venti in it, despite my Venti-obsession, but now that Venti Can Do What He Wants is complete, these are the fics on my priority list:

Xiao-centric + Chongyun + Xingqiu: an adeptal guide to gardening

First chapter is already on Ao3. Basically, Xiao ends up investigating a strange domain that lures people in with illusions of their loved ones with the help of Chongyun and Xingqiu. The short summary is: Xiao's Very Bad, No Good Babysitting Adventure, only it turns out that being around mortal children is very good for one's soul.

Venti crack (one-shot): Congratulations! You've Been Excavated!

Venti being friends with the adepti and they often grumble about how their domains keep getting broken into and excavated by humans like "they took my favorite tea set and now its in a museum!!" And Venti doesn't have a palace to excavate so he always thinks it's SO HILARIOUS. Then, one day, he settles down in a sealed domain for a nap-- and wakes up, wings and all, in this Sleeping Beauty-esque glass case in the church, because humans stumbled into his domain and lovingly excavated HIM. (The adepti have been waiting 50 years for him to wake up so they can laugh in his face about it.)

Keqing grieving the death of Rex Lapis (one-shot)

Fic takes place during the Liyue AQ after the Rite of Descension and Rex Lapis' "death" but before he tells the Qixing that he's still alive at the end of the AQ. Basically, Keqing coming to realize that she's actually a bit traumatized from seeing her god's "dead body" falling from the sky, and also realizing that she's grieving him. She wanted Liyue to be governed by humans, but she didn't want him DEAD, and now she feels guilty and paranoid that other people must be thinking "are you happy? you got what you wanted!" But in the end, she finds solidarity with other people and realizes no one will judge her for grieving.

Scara-centric 3 part series: dealing with his relationship with gods

Basically it deals with Scara having to find a purpose that isn't the gnosis, and also dealing with like... I think "making amends", like in Simulanka he talks briefly with Mini-Durin about Mini-Durin being like "but what if they don't accept my apology." And I was thinking a lot about wiping himself from existence makes it impossible to seek forgiveness from those he has hurt (including Nahida), and impossible to demand explanations from people who have hurt him (Ei), so he can also never find closure. But this fic has him meeting three different gods, and finding closure through the realizations that kinda incites in him. The first part deals with Scara's relationship with Nahida. The second has him leaving Nahida's side to wander the wilderness after she bids him to find a purpose and soul search, where he gets PLAGUED RELENTLESSLY BY A WEIRD GREEN BARD WHO KEEPS TRYING TO GIVE HIM BAD ADVICE, then the last part has him finally travelling to Inazuma where he meets Ei, has a heart to heart with her after having the mother of all Ei-induced breakdowns, and finally finds closure.

Kavetham / Haikaveh: Kaveh builds Nahida a home

After being invited to see the Sanctuary of Surasthana, and being asked what he thinks about it, Kaveh absent-mindedly says that it's grand, but there's nothing in it that makes it a home. He's super mortified and apologizes for it, but some days later, Nahida calls him back, and commissions him to renovate the Sanctuary and make it into a home. In the process of building her a home, he has to reflect on "what makes a house a home", which slowly leads him towards the realization that home is with Alhaitham (and that he's been in love with Alhaitham for years.) In the backdrop: Nahida, upon completion of renovations, invites Kaveh (who is now a dear friend) to move into her second guest room. And Kaveh is like ha, oh yeah, I've been wanting to move out for awhile, yes, I should move out. And Nahida is like "I feel I've made a terrible mistake" and then "if I can make him realize he's in love with Alhaitham, I can fix this" and then "he realized his feelings!" ... "he thinks its unrequited" "I NEED TO CONVINCE HIM ITS REQUITED" ... "I am unable to convince him its requited" and she keeps trying to get Scara (who is living in the other guest room) to HELP her, but he only gives bad advice!! Basically, mutual pining with a Scara & Nahida CIRCUS in the background.

NSFW: Zhongvenxiao fuck or die (short title: "Rock Paper Scissors")

Xiao has narrowly survives a serious karmic debt episode, but is left completely drained in the aftermath. To aid in his recovery, Cloud Retainer in her capacity as a healer recommends an infusion of energy through dual cultivation (FUCKING) and divine energy would be most efficacious but if any of you are unwilling, an adeptus could also suffice-- ZHONGVEN: WE ARE WILLING. And then they argue fiercely over who gets to fuck Xiao which leads to Xiao walking out to check if they've murdered each other and they're playing ROCK PAPER SCISSORS OVER IT. Anyway its crack and porn and a threesome eventually happens, but Zhongven bicker the WHOLE time and Xiao is slowly losing his sanity because of it.

And then there are three that aren't outlined like the others are and are kinda still floating in my head, but I'm interested in writing them:

Jean & Venti fic: Venti age-regresses and Jean takes care of him

Venti exhausts himself trying to take care of a "resentful god remnants" problem in Stormterror's Lair and regresses to the age right after he first took the Bard's form and ascended, with only Jean around. Largely, I was very AHHH about the idea of Venti having to deal with a body he doesn't even know how to move in, and the humans are afraid of him, and Gunnhildr being the only one who believed in him, who carried him from Decarabian's tower when he didn't know how to walk in a human form yet. And now Jean taking her place, carrying him from that same tower, and living this almost reverent sense of "what my ancestor did for him, I do for him now" while also dealing with this shift in her head of "being the protected" to "being the protector."

Scara & Cyno: Scara sucks at pretending to be Just Some Guy

So I feel I have this "Outsider POV & Identity Shenanigans" thing going on. I have another fic, Mr Zhongli Is Very Strange which is Xiangling finding out Zhongli's identity because he sucks at pretending to be human. Venti Can Do What He Wants is about Kaeya finding out Venti's identity because Venti doesn't care about pretending to be human. Now, I want to have "Cyno finds out Scara is an ex-Fatui Harbinger because Scara is can't and doesn't care to stop BITCHING about the other harbingers every time they are brought up in front of him."

Venti crack: The Great Adventure of The 137 Lies In 12 Hours

Basically, a "Concerned About Venti's Living Situation" network begins to form in Mondstadt where a bunch of adults basically suspect Venti is a homeless orphan kid and are trying to figure out if Venti even has a home, is he okay, does he need help? Eventually, they stage An Intervention and 3 NPCs are appointed to confront Venti about it. And it's not supposed to be an interrogation but its effectively an interrogation, except Venti just keeps giving out all these really wild answers like "Yes I was born in Mondstadt and err as for the reason why I've not been seen in the city before... it's because I was raised by wolves. No really, just ask Andrius, he'll vouch for me." Which eventually begins the wildest roadtrip in the history of roadtrips, with Venti dragging them all over Mondstadt and then Liyue to meet the people who will vouch for his lies, except all of them are SUCH bad liars that he has to keep coming up with more lies like "I WAS RAISED BY WOLVES, JUST ASK ANDRIUS" "okay, so the truth is that I was raised by Dvalin" "I WAS RAISED BY AN ADEPTUS WHO LIVES ON MT AOCANG" "actually the adeptus lives in wangshu inn sorry I got it wrong" "it looks like I can't hide it anymore... the truth is... I am Morax" "my dad is Mr Zhongli at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor" "I AM MORAX WHY WON'T YOU BELIEVE ME???"