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josefksays · 2 months
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hyperactively-me · 7 months
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I saw a similar request, but this idea has been in my mind for a long time. An ally from a neighboring kingdom has arrived with his heir, a prince who is her age. Simon is infuriated by the way the prince looks at his treasure and is clearly jealous, but he doesn't show it. However, later that night, he takes and «claims» her all night, and she doesn't understand what got into him
oopsies my fingers slipped and i'm posting this earlier than i originally planned. got some angst packed in here. and smut! someone's jealous. but also extremely concerned. hope you like! also i made up random characters for this (again) lolz. also last thing, this is lowkey long
warnings: smut, inexperienced!reader
The morning sun spilled through the windows of your shared royal chamber as you and Simon prepared to receive King Victor and Prince Theodore. King Victor was an extremely trusted ally to Kastron, strong bonds between the two kingdoms stemming from decades ago. You donned a gown of regal blue, embroidered with intricate patterns that reflected your wealth and status. The dress flowed gracefully around you, accentuating your figure and emphasizing your beauty.
“Si, can you please tie the back for me?” you question, reaching around to tug at the strings resting on your back. 
Simon turned to face you, securing the cufflinks on his sleeves. “Of course, love,” he murmured, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers deftly moved to secure the ties of your gown, and he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder. 
As he finished securing the gown, his hands lingered on your shoulders, turning you around to face him, and he met your gaze with a certain intensity. “You look beautiful, as always,” he said, his voice low and husky.
You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading across your face. “Thank you, Si.” You peck his cheek, grabbing his hands in yours. Simon's eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.
“Are you ready?” he asks, pulling you towards the door.
“Yup, I’m ready,” you sigh, straightening your dress once more before stepping outside. 
The arrival of King Victor and Prince Theodore was imminent, and the royal staff buzzed with anticipation. The bond between Kastron and their kingdom was unbreakable. The visit was meant to strengthen the enduring ties between the two kingdoms. As the grand doors swung open, King Victor and Prince Theodore entered with an air of regal grace. King Victor, with his silver hair and a warm, wise smile, exuded a commanding presence. Prince Theodore, around your age, was a mirror image of his father, possessing a handsomeness that drew attention.
“Ah, Simon,” Victor spoke, approaching him with a smile. 
“Victor, very nice to see you again,” Simon replies, shaking Victor’s hand with a firm grip. 
“Of course you remember my son, Theodore?” Victor says, pulling Theodore into his side. 
“It’s been a while, but yes, I vaguely remember,” Simon replies, giving Theodore a firm handshake as well. 
“You are going to introduce us to your new queen, right?” Victor quips, clapping Simon on the back with a friendly chuckle. 
“Of course, Victor,” Simon smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back. With a slight nudge of his hand, he pushes you forward in front of Victor and Theodore. “Allow me to introduce you to my wife, the queen.”
You offer a polite curtsy, your regal grace on full display. “Your majesty,” you greet, smiling warmly at Victor. You extend your hand to him, and he accepts it with a warm smile.
“My queen, how lovely it is to finally meet you,” he smiles. He reminds you of your father, warm yet commanding. “I’ve heard of your marriage to good ol’ Simon here. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to attend the wedding. But now that I’m here, it is safe for me to say that Simon is lucky to have you.” 
You smile at Victor, his well wishes flattering you. “I truly appreciate the sentiment, your majesty.”
You turn to face Prince Theodore. “Your highness,” you greet, extending your hand out to him. Theodore grabs your hand lightly, bowing before you. 
“Your majesty, how flattered I am to bask in your presence,” he says, his voice buttery smooth. 
His gaze is anything but subtle. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Prince Theodore—”
“Please, call me Theo.”
His concern caught you off guard. “Oh, yes, of course, I apologize—”
“No need to apologize,” he murmurs, holding onto your hand longer than he has to. You maintain your composure, withdrawing your hand gracefully from his grasp. You don’t notice the way Simon straightens his back a little, a subtle tension settling in his posture, like a coiled spring. 
“Come, now,” Victor sighs, wrapping an arm around Simon’s shoulder. “How about we start these dreaded talks?” he jokes, laughing jovially as he pulls Simon towards the meeting room. 
You turn to follow them, but not before Theodore offers you his arm. You take it with a smile, following behind Victor and Simon. The presence of Prince Theodore's arm linked with yours added a weight to your steps as you followed the others into the meeting room. Unbeknownst to you, his demeanor made it clear that he had little intention of keeping things strictly formal.
Once the doors are shut, Simon turns to you, jaw clenching as he sees you arm in arm with Theodore. Immediately, Simon is striding over to your seat, next to his of course. He pulls it out for you, motioning for you to sit down. 
“Thank you, Simon,” you smile at him, settling down in your seat. Simon turns to glare at Theodore for a split second before taking his seat next to you. 
Once inside, the discussions began. You, Victor, and Simon delved into matters of trade and alliances, and Prince Theodore was left with more observing. You and Simon had discussed what would happen in this meeting in the days leading up. This would be your first official involvement in Kastron’s affairs with an ally. You would offer as much aide as you could, utilizing your knowledge from your lessons with your advisors.
As the meeting began, you inserted yourself into the talks confidently, trying your best to be as diplomatic and professional as possible. When you were about to speak again, Theodore interrupted you.
Theodore raised an eyebrow, his eyes locking onto yours, then flitting to Simon. “Forgive me, but I can't help but be curious about something,” he said, his tone light yet probing. Theodore addresses you by your first name, taking you slightly aback. No one refers to you by just your first name other than Simon and your family. You don’t notice the way Simon narrows his eyes in annoyance at Theodore. 
“Your confidence is truly a sight to see,” Theodore compliments, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “It’s honestly impressive to see, especially only becoming queen of Kastron a couple of months ago.”
You smile appreciatively at him. “Oh, thank you,” you gush, “I’ve been doing lessons for the majority of my time here, but I’ve really fallen in love with Kastron.”
Simon knocks his knee into yours under the table, his leg resting right against yours.
Theodore leans back in his chair, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Prosperity and alliances aside, I can't help but be curious about the person you are behind the title. I'm sure there's more to you than just diplomacy and royal duties.”
“Oh, well, maybe we can talk afterwards?” you suggest, smiling at him politely. “I’m sure we would like to get these talks over as soon as possible.”
Simon’s hand appears under the table, thick fingers tracing your thigh and coming to rest on the slope of your inner thigh. You squirm slightly as his fingers linger on your thigh, but you keep your mouth shut. 
“I would be delighted,” Theodore smiles back at you. 
Theodore’s interjections and conversation directed towards you for the rest of the meeting made Simon feel like he was losing his sanity inch by inch. As the discussions wore on, you didn’t notice the way Simon's jaw clenched intermittently. He maintained a diplomatic facade, but the strain was evident. 
The meeting started wrapping up, all good results for both parties. 
“Well, we would like to thank you for coming, Victor,” Simon says, shaking Victor’s firmly. “I had no doubt in my mind that we wouldn’t be able to come up with an advantageous agreement for the both of us.”
“Always a pleasure, my boy,” Victor smiles enthusiastically, shaking Simon’s hand.
Victor turns to you. “And, my dear, a wonderful job you’ve done here! You have great potential.” 
You smile graciously, extremely pleased that an experienced monarch complimented you. 
“Thank you, Victor, your words mean so much to me.” 
Prince Theodore taps you on the shoulder. Simon immediately tenses beside you, placing a hand on your waist. 
“Do you still want to talk?” Theodore asks with an air of confidence, eyeing Simon for a brief moment. “I could use some advice in terms of meetings like these…you just did such a wonderful job.” 
You turn to Prince Theodore with a polite smile, not noticing the tension that lingers in Simon's expression. “Certainly! I’ll try my best!”
Theodore's gaze lingers on you, his eyes sparkling with a subtle charm. “I was thinking perhaps we could talk somewhere else? I'd love to hear more about Kastron from your perspective.”
Before you can say anything, Simon is interrupting you, voice stern and gruff. 
“She’s actually feeling quite exhausted.”
“Wha—”
“We must be off, it has been a long day,” Simon continues, squeezing you flush against him. 
Your eyebrows raise slightly in confusion at Simon’s intervention, but you quickly recover, offering a polite smile to Prince Theodore. “I apologize, Prince Theodore, but Simon is right. It has been a long and productive day, and I’m afraid I am feeling a bit fatigued. Perhaps we can continue our conversation another time?” 
Simon, his expression firm, nods in agreement. “Another time, Prince Theodore. We appreciate your understanding.” And with that, Simon practically drags you away and to your chambers, arm still fastened around your waist. 
. . . 
“Simon, what was that back there?”
The moment the door clicks shut, Simon is practically on top of you. 
“Woah— hey, big guy, what’s—”
“Quiet,” he commands, pressing his body up against yours. He’s slotting you against him, grabbing your hips with fervor. 
“Simon—”
And he’s kissing you. Kissing you with an intensity in a way that feels…different. He’s pressing into you so hard that you don’t fully realize when your back hits the wall. 
Simon slots his knee in between your legs, bucking his knee up into you, pressing into your clothed clit just right. You gasp into his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. Simon groans at your reaction, the way your hands feel against him is heavenly. But his shirt is in the way. And his pants. In one fluid movement, Simon shucks his shirt off and presses himself back on you. 
“Simon, what’s gotten into you—?”
“Saw the way he was looking at you—”
“Wha– who?”
“Theodore.”
“What?” you stop moving. “What are you talking about?” 
You push your hands against his bare chest, trying to push him off you. “What are you talking about?” He moves back, removing his knee from in between your legs. 
“He was trying to get in your pants,” he says bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. 
Your face heats up at his accusation, “Simon, he was not—”
“He wouldn’t stop talking to you.”
“He was just interested in political advice! Yeah, he was a bit immature during the meeting, interrupting me, but that was it,” you exclaim. 
“No, no he wasn’t—” Simon pinches the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut.
“How do you know?” you question, raising your eyebrows at him. 
“I’m a man. I just know.”
“Really? Simon, I–”
He interrupts you.
“I cannot have a repeat of Valerian.” 
You’re silent, and suddenly you feel small under his gaze. His eyes search yours, emotion coursing through him. 
“Valerian was truly dangerous. They are not the same—”
“I don’t like taking that chance with you,” Simon presses, returning his hands back on your hips. His grip returns you back against the wall. You look at him, mouth parted slightly. You lick your lips and nod with understanding.
“I can’t stand Theodore, the prying little prick.” 
You rub Simon’s arms in soothing motions, up and down. You know where this is coming from. He’s just scared. 
“I know,” you whisper quietly. 
“We’re going back to daily self defense training,” Simon adds on, breathing hard into your ear. “And ‘m gonna assign a personal guard to you.”
You get goosebumps from his breath against your skin. You nod slowly, chewing your lip.
“Okay.”
“I should’ve done all of this sooner, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m a bad husband—” 
“No, no you’re not, Si,” you whisper, pulling him against you. You rest your cheek against his bare chest, his skin hot against your face. “You’re not.”
You take his face in your hands and pull him down for a gentle kiss. He lets out a breath as your lips meet his, and he’s leaning against you again, making you take his body weight against the wall. His hands reach around your back, pulling at the strings on your dress with his meaty fingers. You reach around your back to help him, yanking at the strings and hoping it unravels. With a satisfied grunt, Simon yanks the knot free, letting the dress slip from your shoulders. 
He kisses you again, hands pulling the dress of your form. Simon pulls you into his arms, his chest pressed against yours as if trying to consume you whole, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall as he walks you back into it once more, moving his knee back in between your pillowy thighs. You gasp into his mouth as his knee comes back into contact with your core, beckoning you to slide against him. 
“Oh—” you whisper, your head falling back against the wall as he rocks his knee against you. 
He kisses his way down your throat, nipping at the skin before sucking a hickey on your flesh. You gasp, trying to push him off. It’s too late, and he’s looking at you with a certain glint in his eyes.
“Si, people are going to see that—” “Let them,” is all he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lip. “You’re mine. Only mine.” 
You feel his cock press into your thighs. You stutter as desire pools between your legs. He starts rocking his knee against you harder, making you swallow your words as a moan threatens to escape your throat. You involuntarily grind against his thigh, eliciting a small chuckle from him. His hands move to your hips, pushing you down more firmly onto his thigh, a soft gasp falling past your lips.
“Thas’ it, love,” he encourages, grabbing your hips firmly, pushing you against his thigh. You gasp louder this time as your clothed cunt makes contact with him. 
He revels in your reaction, loves hearing your sounds. You bite your lip, unaccustomed to the way you felt against his leg. Your shyness only spurs him on, pulling your hips forward, dragging you against his covered thigh once more. 
“Si,” you garble, clutching onto his shoulders, your wetness pooling in your panties. You let your head fall in front of his chest as he pulls and pushes at your hips. You pant softly, "Fuck, Si," curling your fingers into his skin deliciously. 
“Feel good, dove?” He drawls, lost in your pleasure. He watches you nod slowly. “I’m the only one who will make you feel this good.” 
You grab his shoulder tightly as he speaks, your wetness surely soaking through your panties now. 
“F- feels so good,” you murmur with a shaky breath, groaning lightly at the way he nudges you on his thigh, the feeling of fabric rubbing against your clit making your legs tremble slightly. 
Simon slides his fingers up into your panties, sliding his fingers through your slick and pressing at your clit before pulling them back out. You shiver from the loss of contact, a glossy look washing over your eyes as you watch Simon bring his now dripping fingers up to his face. 
“So wet,” he notes, wiggling his fingers in front of your face. “S’ wet all for me.” 
You nod your head quickly, becoming lost in your own pleasure, moving your hips faster. “Only for you.”
Simon watches you intently, bringing his slick-covered fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean as you watch him. He groans at the taste of you, bucking his knee up into you, making you moan. “Taste s’ good f’me,” he mumbles around his fingers, licking every last drop. 
You look up at him, mouth agape. “I– I think,” you mumble, grasping onto his shoulders with a death grip. Your knees start to shake, the coil in your stomach threatening to unravel. 
“Let go, love,” Simon encourages you, rutting you harshly against his thigh. 
You feel the coil in your stomach snap, moaning as you arch your back, hips rutting forward. You dig your nails into his shoulders, pressing your forehead up against his chest as you roll through your climax. 
“Thas’ it, darling, so good all f’me,” Simon says huskily eyes darkening as he removes his leg from in between your thighs. Immediately Simon is pulling you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He was planning on being anything but. 
Your mind is hazy as he climbs on top of you, your climax dripping through your now completely soaked panties. Simon lowers his head down, presses his nose into your clothed cunt, the top of his nose pressing into your clit. You gasp again, hands finding purchase in the bedsheets. 
Simon grabs the edge of your panties with his teeth, then pulls, ripping them off your body. You shriek, heat creeping up your face, “Si- Simon! Those were one of my favorites—”
“I’ll get you another,” he coos at you, licking your slick off your folds. Then he dove in. You let out a deep seated moan as he pressed his tongue through your folds, humming and groaning at your taste. He digs his fingers into your thighs, groaning louder as he tastes more of you. He’s so vocal with the pleasure he derives from you, always so eager to please you.
“‘M the only one,” he hums into your cunt, “who’ll taste you like this.” 
You’re so wet it’s dripping down his chin, his nose, his lips. You nearly sob as he presses impossibly farther into you, squeezing his head around your thighs. Your hips buck off the bed as his tongue presses inside you, grinding down on him as his nose hits your clit. He groans as you spasm around his tongue, grasping your hips in a bruising grip. He moves back up to your clit, pressing his tongue against your bud, swirling around your bundle of nerves. Tears prick your eyes, the stimulation bringing you close to the edge again. 
“Simon,” you cry out, pawing at him. He ignores you, relishing in the way your back is arching off the bed. He’s bringing you to the edge, again, and the moment his eyes flit up to meet yours, you cum. Your eyes roll back, the coil within you letting loose once more. Simon moans as his tongue laps up your release eagerly. 
With lightning speed, Simon is crawling back up your body and kisses you, long and deep, shoving your slick inside your mouth for you to taste.
“Taste s’good, baby,” he praises, squeezing your hips as he kisses you. He shudders as your nails scratch down his back gently, grazing his shoulders with an unexpected gentleness. 
Simon leans down to your collarbone, pressing hickies into your skin, much to your dismay (you loved it). You could care less that there’ll be visible marks all over your body by the time he’s done. He goes farther, sucking hickies at the tops of your breasts, pulling you against him as he does so. His breath hitches everytime he hears you moan, his hard cock aching in the confines of his pants, your sounds only pushing him farther and farther.
“Please, please” you moan, tugging at his hair, “take your pants off.” 
“Because you asked so sweetly, pretty girl,” he whispers, fumbling with his pants as he practically rips them off his legs. His cock springs free, angry and ready. 
“Please,” you murmur, eyeing his cock. Your fingers brush over it, and he lets out a hiss. Simon grabs your wrist, forcing your hand to close around his member. He drags your hand up and down his cock, once, twice, before he’s twitching. He needs to be inside of you. Now. 
He reaches down to spread your folds for him, then pushes just the tip inside your walls. You groan at the stretch, clawing his back as the meaty tip pries you open. 
“So good–” you moan as he continues to slide inside of you, the stretch making you wince in pain and pleasure. 
“Almost there, lovie, such a good girl,” he praises, keening at the way your nails scratch his back. He lets out a strangled breath as he bottoms out inside of you, letting his forehead rest against yours to catch his breath. 
You whimper as he just sits there, his strong arms clutching your back as he lifts your back off the bed. As he lifts you up, he hooks your legs around his hips tightly. He grabs your back with his strong arms, pulling you up from your previous position on the bed. 
Suddenly, he’s pulling his cock almost all the way before slamming back into you with no remorse. You moan loudly, eyes rolling back as he bounces you on his cock, hard. 
“‘M the only one that’ll fuck you like you deserve,” he groans into your neck, dragging you up and down his cock like its his day job. You whimper and drag your nails down his back, your nails scratching his skin so perfectly, red marks appearing along his rippling muscles. 
He moves faster, pumping into you hard. He’s never been this rough with you before. 
“You’re mine, only mine,” Simon strains. “Say it.” 
“‘M yours, Si,” you babble, grasping onto him. “I’m o-only yours.” You moan as your hands find purchase in the firmness of his back, shoving your head against his neck to leave him open mouthed kisses. 
The words he so urgently craved from you slipped from your lips, prompting a growl to escape from his own.
“Good girl,” he grunts, voice gruff and husky, overridden with lust and the way your legs felt around his hips. “My good girl.”
He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, clutching the back of your head to press his tongue into your mouth deeply. Your eyes fall shut, the pleasure overbearing as he moves his hand from the back of your head to your throbbing clit. Your back arches into him, moaning loudly as he massages your swollen bundle of nerves. 
You clench around his length, breathing ragged, you’re so close. “You’re mine,” Simon drawls, thrusting into you harder, deeper. “I- I’ll fuckin’ kill anyone who touches–” he stutters, speech cut off as you kiss him. You don’t want him to finish that sentence, but you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t sing as he spoke. 
The ever so familiar coil building up in your abdomen breaches your senses, your muscles tightening. Your mind is foggy as he continues pounding into you, playing with your clit, pushing you farther. 
“Takin’ me so well, darling girl.” 
“‘M gonna cum,” you cry out, his fingers on your clit pushing you over the edge. 
“I know, I know,” he grunts, his voice strained from his own impending release. “Cum for me, baby.” 
You whimper as you cum, nails digging into Simon’s back as your senses go into overdrive. 
“G- good girl,” Simon strains, his speed increasing at you coming on his cock. His breathing grows erratic as he slams his hips against yours, hands gripping at your back. “My beautiful girl.” 
Simon slides his hands from your back, letting you fall back on the mattress as he pushes himself into you. 
“I’m yours, Si, always yours,” you whisper, grabbing at his wrist on your hip. “Forever yours.”
You lock eyes with him. 
“You’re mine,” you lick your lips, eyes meeting his. “You’re all mine, Simon.”
He moans at those words alone, closing his eyes as he rolls his hips before releasing inside of you. He drops on top of you, flipping you over so you’re laying on top of his chest. You press your chin against his chest, his racing heartbeat pounding against your skin. 
“Fuck, dove.” He finally opens his eyes, looking right at you. He looks like he’s in utter shock. “Fuck.” 
He doesn’t pull out quite yet, letting his softening cock rest inside you. 
“Hmm?”
“Say that again.”
You shift under his gaze, his eyes practically boring holes in your skin. 
“You’re mine, Simon.” 
He shudders, hands running up your body to rest on your ass. He gives you a firm squeeze. 
He looks at you, a smile tugging on his lips. 
“Damn right.”
- - - - -
(masterlist)
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Have you heard of the upcoming film The Imaginary by Studio Ponoc? It looks like something you’d enjoy the concept of !
YOOOOO WHATTTTT?!??!?
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In the chorus of would that I I always imagine tiny hoziers singing the Oohs
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cloudwhisper23 · 4 months
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Greg asked him to meet at the Pizzaplex. He acted like it would solve everything. But to Tony, there was no fixing things. There was only the betrayal he'd suffered at the hands of both Ellis and Greg. He'd said yes anyway though. The damage was done, and Tony had learned from his mistake. He could be friends with Greg, but he wouldn't trust him.
Part of him figured it was more Greg than Ellis who had really changed his story. Ellis wasn't dedicated enough to writing to really even care about how the story turned out. He trusted Tony to handle it. Maybe that was part of the reason it stung so much. Ellis hadn't cared that Greg wanted to change things.
Which meant that Greg had more to make up for, and was probably why he was trying to hard to make Tony feel better. But if he really wanted to cheer Tony up, why would he take him to the Pizzaplex again? Bad reminders were not going to help.
Something about it nagged at Tony. The Pizzaplex was GGY's hunting ground, if his suspicions were correct. Entering that territory without the crowds made Tony nervous.
He shoved a pocketknife engraved with his father's initials into his sweatshirt. Just in case. It couldn't hurt, right?
Greg seemed just as nervous as Tony felt when he got to the Pizzaplex. "Hey."
"Hey." Tony nodded to him, fidgeting with the carved wood in his pocket. "What's the plan?"
"Fazerblast." Greg smiled. "You can handle some games, right?"
Tony's mouth twitched, but he said, "Sure. Where's Ellis?"
"Ah, Ellis isn't coming today. I figured we could meet up with my other friends. The more mature ones."
Tony's brow scrunched. He'd had that exact thought before, of Ellis being too immature. But he never voiced it out loud. It wasn't worth the problems it would cause, even if Tony thought it was true. "Do I know any of them?"
"Not really. They like to hang out at Fazerblast."
"You only like it there because Freddy's your favorite," Tony replied as they entered the mall.
Greg scoffed. "I'm not that shallow. Fazerblast is fun. Ellis is the one who has all the fun at the arcade cabinets. I go all over."
"Right." Tony shrugged.
"Hey, come on. We're here to have fun, remember? Loosen up." The scrutiny Greg had given him at school returned.
"Sorry." Tony pointedly didn't look at Greg.
"Tony." Greg grabbed his arm. "Seriously. Are you going to be a buzzkill?"
"Greg." Tony replied flatly. "You ruined my story about the Pizzaplex, and to make up for it, you took me back to the Pizzaplex. Forgive me if I'm a bit upset."
"What do you want to do then?" Greg seemed irritated. What do you want from me? Tony heard instead.
"I don't know."
"So just trust me. You'll have fun, I promise."
Tony didn't respond to that, but he let Greg lead him all the way to Fazerblast.
"Where are your other friends?" Tony asked, but Greg kept moving. "Wait, this isn't-"
"There's a shortcut to skip the line. Trust me."
Tony was getting more and more concerned the more Greg said that. He took them through a creaking door and up a rickety staircase. Tony tentatively put a hand on the railing, peering over. "Greg, we're above Fazerblast."
"Astute observations as always, Tony." Greg tugged his sleeve impatiently. "We're almost there."
Almost where? Greg said they were going to Fazerblast, but they clearly weren't going to play Fazerblast. Instead, they followed the catwalks to a security office. "Gregory-"
"You've gotta trust me, Tony."
No, I really don't. But he still let the other boy lead him through the door. He scanned the room quickly, weary of the fact that someone had clearly been living in the room. The name Vanny was spray-painted on the wall in capital letters. "Who's-"
Something hit him in the back of the head, and Tony curled in a ball. I shouldn't have trusted him, he thought in a daze as he glimpsed the familiar color of Greg's shoes. He also spotted animatronic feet, but the pain ringing in his head reduced his ability to say much on his own.
Scrambling, Tony backed himself up into an arcade cabinet. "Wha-"
"Tony, Tony, Tony." Greg clicked his tongue, forcing Tony's head up to meet his gaze. "You've gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble. You almost gave me away! And we couldn't have that."
"Who..." Tony blinked, trying to restore his vision. "You're GGY."
"Looks like you can still think." GGY chuckled. "Are you ready to have some fun, Tony?"
"Not if it's anything like what you did to the others," Tony gritted out.
He was grateful that Ellis wasn't mature enough to connect the dots, not mature enough to care about the hyper-realistic nature of his story. He was grateful Ellis was complacent where Tony hadn't been. Otherwise, they'd both be stuck in this situation. I'm so sorry, El. Tony thought, gripping his pocketknife tightly.
He knew he'd have to stab Greg to escape, and despite the regret he felt deep in his heart, Tony had never felt more alive.
GGY stepped back, cursing under his breath as Freddy Fazbear growled angrily and hoisted Tony off the ground by his shirt. The pocketknife was warm in Tony's grip, blood dripping off the blade as he gasped for air.
"So much bite, Tony!" GGY wiped the blood off his neck. "But you do have more than one option here, you know. We can be friends forever! But you have to follow the rules." Carefully, he pulled the pocketknife from Tony's hand and tossed it across the room.
"I'd rather die," Tony spat when Freddy dropped him.
GGY shook his head. "I think we can change your mind. Freddy, let's go."
Tony blinked as Freddy's stomach hatch opened. GGY grinned at Tony. "I wonder how well you'll fit."
"Wait, no. Don't do this!" Tony stumbled back as GGY tried to drag him forward for Freddy to lift him up. "Let go of me!"
His cries ceased as GGY hit him, this time knocking him out.
When he woke, his hands were bound behind his back. Wriggling determined that his ankles were tied as well. Tony scowled at the gross, burnt tiles.
Wait a minute. This wasn't the Pizzaplex. How did-
The sound of someone else moving made Tony freeze.
"Well, look who's awake!" GGY peered into Tony's face. "Can you guess where we are?"
"This isn't the Pizzaplex..." Tony mumbled. He didn't want to play this stupid game. GGY grabbed his chin and shook it. Tony yanked his head free and looked closer at his surroundings.
There was a show stage, similar to the one the Glamrocks performed on. Arcades were littered around the room, and one wall housed a kitchen area. "We're... in an abandoned pizzeria?" he guessed.
"Not just any abandoned pizzeria!" GGY replied cheerfully. "My sponsor's old pizzeria. Or, I guess, his son's pizzeria." GGY wrinkled his nose slightly at that. "This is where the magic happens!"
"Magic?" Tony replied doubtfully.
"Once you agree to let him into your head, you won't stress about anything else for the rest of your sorry, miserable life!" GGY tapped the tip of Tony's nose. "He will give us instructions, and using our natural personality, we fulfill the demands to keep things running smoothly. When I saw what you did with that short story, I just knew we had to recruit you!"
"And if I refuse?" Tony glared. "You'll do what? Kill me?"
"Well..." GGY studied Tony's face. "We don't really want to kill you, but if you don't join us, we'll have no choice. Ellis would be a great alternative if you said no, don't you think? He already knows the lore of GGY, after all. Courtesy of your story."
"Stay away from Ellis." Tony jerked at his bonds, angry that he couldn't strangle the life out of GGY right there.
"You're the one who makes the decisions."
"If I join you," Tony muttered angrily, "you stay away from Ellis."
"Naturally. We want you, Tony. All we're doing is giving you incentive." GGY grinned. "So you agree then?"
"I'll do it."
"Great! I'll get everything all set up."
Tony's shoulders sank. He didn't know what this cult wanted from him, but their goals couldn't be good. Not if it included killing people.
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dailydccomics · 5 months
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Ice & Fire by Marguerite Sauvage
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eidolons-stuff · 4 months
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Yoko: *confused* "Wdym don't worry?"
Xavier: "Wednesday doesn't need to stop Ajax"
Yoko: *anti-wenclair radar going off*
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lookismfanfics · 1 year
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𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 ♡︎
Daniel is over the moon; he’s finally elicited a smile from you. (Y/N)… closed off and reserved, and yet so intriguing. From the start he knew he wanted to see you crack a smile, even if it was just once. And now here you are, smiling at him with unfiltered sincerity. Your expression alone is enough to make him want to crumble to the ground… but now what’s with your hand ruffling his hair? Affectionately?
Yes please. Daniel is swooning hard.
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entomolog-t · 6 months
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Bite Me - Chapter 10
What is this? Highschool musical?
June stress cleans, and Aedes stresses.
Pumped out another promptober prompt!! Glipse
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias
- - - -
Previous Chapter : Chapter 9
Next Chapter: Chapter 11
Word count: 2520
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, mild depictions of anxiety
As if a passenger in her own mind, June watches her actions playing out before her as her mind hums, buzzing with thoughts of the night- thoughts of Aedes. The shock of realization, the way he moved both too fast and too rigid. She remembers his voice, silky smooth and deep- how it cracked as he begged her to stop. She grimaces as she remembers the fear so clear on his face- and how deeply she desired it. 
As her hands numbly move from task to task her thoughts seem to ebb and flow- at times, however briefly, placated by the monotony of cleaning. At first it was easy- she made her bed, picked up discarded clothing, and straightened the various contents of her desk. Yet, as her room became more and more tidy, she became desperate to find more tasks to occupy her mind. 
She rearranged her plants, switching their positions from her desk to the shelves to the window sill. 
Play with me, my human
She optimized the layout of her room, moving her laundry basket right beside her dresser to keep things thematically consistent- to find a logical flow. Or so she told herself. There had to be some reason- some excuse to think about anything other than him. 
Indulge your delusion
His words seemed to echo in her mind and June found herself craving more stimulating tasks to busy herself- to quiet her mind. To quiet him. 
So she continued on. The guitar should go near the desk, not the stand mirror.  The rug looks better at the side of the bed, not the foot of it.  Maybe the bed should face the other way? 
June sighs. 
This was getting ridiculous. 
Looking at the space in front of her, her room was as meticulously kept as it had ever been. Immaculate by her standards, and yet the thoughts of him persisted. Her lips drew into a tight line. How could they not? Everything about the night was so far beyond her realm of normalcy she hadn’t even initially believed it herself. 
Even now she found herself full of questions and doubts. The reality she was apparently living in felt inconsistent with the reality she’d always known. Why was he so small? How could vampires exist- what even constituted a vampire? Was he immortal? Or was he just some guy who drank blood? Two lines of thought thrashed against one another, competing for her attention. Logic, alight with curiosity, demanded answers, while the more empathetic part of her wanted a conclusion- needed an apology to be heard, a way to show him she was sorry.
Each question seemed to compete for her attention, growing louder and more desperate as she shoved them to the back of her mind while simultaneously shoving book after book back into her bookcase. Though she meandered about in silence her thoughts were loud. Unbelievably so- as if they were drowning out all actual sound. Her mind was loud- but she could be louder. 
A song, gentle and familiar, starts to form on her tongue. 
I fall to pieces
Each time I see you again
The notes felt smooth in a way it was hard to describe. Smooth in a way that seemed to soften the sharpness in her mind, as if the softness of the song could dull the edge of her emotions. The melody a soothing balm on her agitated mind. 
I fall to pieces
How can I be just your friend?
The tangle of thoughts that constricted around her mind seemed to relax, coming undone as though the song pulled just the right thread to untangle the mass, pulling the thoughts further and further from her, as if sending them floating away on her melody. 
You want me to act like we've never kissed
And yet, for as placating as it was… something felt off. June couldn't shake the thought that something was amiss- an unsettling undercurrent lingered just beneath the shallow tranquility of the song. A particular unease seemed to creep at the edges of her mind. Not a foreboding dread, but instead something lighter, almost like deja vu, as if it was something she should have known- The feeling of forgetting something but not being sure what; The feeling of pulling a loose thread only to unravel a crucial stitch…
You want me to forget 
Pretend we've never met
As she sang she felt as thoughts, abstract and formless, seemed to shift in the back of her mind. As if the words of her song had breathed life into something dormant lurking in her subconscious. The words were familiar, yet not, taking on an enigmatic allure-  as if they held secrets she ought to have known. With each lyric that escaped her lips, a subtle transformation occurred, as though the music itself was a conduit, channeling something she felt compelled piece together. 
And I've tried and I've tried
But I haven't yet
Movement out of the corner of her eye catches June’s gaze
All at once, her heart stops and the gears that were futility catching finally seem to clunk into place. Aedes… he hadn’t left.
You walk by and I fall to pieces
I fall to pieces
The lyrics became a prophecy to unfold, as June falls to pieces. The words barely register in her mind, her lips numbly singing the words as her eyes stay locked on him for the longest second of her life. Something in her feels as though it crumbles. She’d sung the song countless times, and yet it was as if she’d never known it. The words seemed to resonate in more than just her chest. Her very being shaking under the resonance, it was as if she’d unlocked a new understanding- a whole new song. The words hadn’t changed, neither did the notes. It was something in her. 
June looks away, feigning that she was looking at something just near enough, but not him. Heart beating wildly in her chest she desperately fought to keep her face as neutral as possible. How could she bring herself to look at him after all that she'd done…
He… he was still here…
He hadn’t left…
June felt a lightness in her chest. Like a flower pushing up through the concrete, a small fragment of hope seemed to bloom from within her. 
Should she- 
No. She dismissed the idea before it could fully form. She’d done enough damage. 
But maybe she could make it right if she just- 
June chews her lip.
Just what was she supposed to do? Just waltz up and say ‘Hey I’m really sorry for scaring you- it's just that you being terrified really turned me on and I kinda thought you were into it’ ??
Embarrassment hot on her face, June flops to her bed, wishing she could just scream into her pillow, but the awareness that she had company forced her to keep some sort of decorum. Instead she reaches for her nightstand, pulling out the relic that was her childhood mp3 player. 
God, she wanted to make this right. 
He hadn’t left yet… maybe she still could. 
---
Aedes' heart seems to jump in his chest as for the briefest of moments he is once again trapped in her stare- captive in her overwhelming gaze. 
Or… not? 
She moves on, still singing that enchanting melody. 
He releases a breath, his body all at once relaxing. She hadn’t seen him. 
Slowly, he backs away. He’d been stupid. He’d nearly gotten himself caught, and for what? To watch some natural disaster of a woman sing? He sighed, making his way back to the far corner beneath the dresser. 
He could have sworn they’d locked eyes… 
A part of him, as terrified as he was, almost wished they had.
Her song finishes, fading off into a melodious hum as he hears her settle on her bed.
Something felt off-
No, not felt- sounded.
While his spike of bloodlust had abated for now, his ears could still pick up the faint sound of her heart beating in the distance.
It was fast.
Far too fast for someone laying down.
Fuck.
She had seen him hadn't she? But she hadn't said a thing- she hadn't even made a move in his direction…
Was she just waiting for her chance- wanting to catch him off guard? 
He scowled. That didn't make sense. He was cornered. If she wanted to catch him she absolutely could.
The sound of her movement makes him jolt- nearly thwacking his head off the low cover of the dresser. He watches with his heart in his throat as she pads away from the bed and towards her closet, rummaging around in boxes she had moments ago neatly stacked away. His eyes follow her as she moves to sit at her desk- back to him. 
He swallowed. 
She wasn’t acting like it but he couldn’t shake the suspicion she had seen him. He frowned, not fond of staying in the spot where she had glimpsed him. He needed a better spot, and thankfully he had quite literally been delivered one. The freshly placed laundry bin perfectly covered the once bare space between the dresser and standing mirror. Carefully, Aedes made his way out from underneath the dresser, squeezing himself between the wicker laundry bin and the wall. 
Nothing. 
She continued to sit at her desk, idling fiddling with something. 
Aedes frowns. 
While entering the window and getting to the bed had been a quick and easy drop, the same couldn’t be said for the way back up. With no headboard to the bed Aedes found himself eyeing her desk as the only means to scale back up the window sill. 
With her back still turned, Aedes darts from the laundry bin to the mirror- peaking back to see the human still occupied at her desk. She hummed softly to herself as she sat hunched over something, her scale and his relative angle completely obscuring whatever it was that had her focus. 
Aedes sighed. Whatever it was that she was doing, he didn’t get the impression she’d be moving on anytime soon. He let him slump back against a large potted plant that sat decoratively beside the mirror. The cool ceramic felt nice against his skin. He felt his body once again start to relax, the sudden heaviness of exhaustion finally hitting him, as if he only now was bearing his full weight. 
Once again, he was back to waiting. 
Waiting for her to open the window.
Waiting for her to leave the room. 
Waiting to get away. 
The sun cast the room in a smothering warmth. Cozy, yet too much. Her hum droned on in the distance, with the occasional odd sound of her fiddling at her desk. Even in this relative calmness, the light of day was still so busy. Aedes found himself longing for the night- a cool breeze and fresh air. Peace and tranquility and freedom. He couldn’t wait to leave. To feel the crunch of dirt under his boots. The tall grass providing cover as he searched for something to feed on. A dark sky above him, stars bright and clear- the compelling song of a heart beat singing in his ears even more clear- Crystalline. A soft wordless melody filling him with vigor- resonating in his chest. The blood, sweet on his tongue, filling him with a hazy warmth. A cozy warmth. Enveloped in soft hands. Lips on his stomach. Her inaudible whispers hushed against his chest. What was she saying? He couldn’t hear her over the sound of her heart beating. Thunder in ears. So loud he could feel it- a vibration shaking him. The floor trembled beneath him
The… floor?
Aedes jolts awake.
His breath catching in his throat as her steps shake the floor. Fuck. 
He scrambles to his feet, peaking around from the cover of the plant.
There she was, in all her magnitude, walking straight towards the dresser. His throat tightened as she knelt down. 
No. 
She had seen him. 
Fuck. 
Was she looking for him?
He held his breath, heart slamming against his chest as his body tensed, preparing to run the second she turned her attention his way. 
Only- she didn’t. 
She knelt for only a moment, and then moved on- standing up and exiting the room, a soft hum fading into the distance as she left. She hadn’t reached under the dresser, hadn’t even looked. Aedes felt as his brows knit together. She had left something. A small vaguely rectangular shape sat just beneath the dresser. 
He swallowed. There was no denying it. She had seen him. She knew he was here. 
So just what was she doing?
His eyes flicked from the strange rectangle back to the door. She had left. the air around him felt lighter. More crisp, as if the tension of her presence left some kind of haze. His relief however, was short lived, as he attention was brought back to the window- still closed. 
Trapped. 
She wasn’t even here and he was still trapped. 
He drags his hands along the length of his face, frustration building. Think. There had to be something he could do in the meantime- someway he could move himself closer to escape. 
His eyes flicked back to the rectangle- curiosity gnawing at his focus. 
His eyes, adjusted to the daylight in the room, couldn’t quite make out what she’d left under the dresser with it obscured in the heavy contrast of shadow. The whole thing felt off, like a trick or some sort of trap, yet off in the distance he could still hear her, however faintly, humming to herself. 
Aedes scowls, eyes narrowing as he tentatively moves back toward the dresser, ready to sprint away in a second notice should he hear her return. 
Drawing closer, he makes out more details; black, soft edges, folds. Aedes’ frown deepens. The more he saw, the less sure he was of what exactly he was looking at. 
Was it… fabric?
He nudges the folded fabric with his foot- nothing feeling amiss, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for.  
Aedes pauses for a moment, considering if he should touch it- the weight of the action sitting heavy in his mind. She had left this for him clearly, in taking this he was essentially confirming that he was here…
But there was no harm in looking, right?
As he lifts it up, the fabric unfurls, and for a moment, Aedes isn’t quite sure what exactly he’s looking at. He would have thought it a blanket if it wasn’t for the strange way it hung from his hands- stitched together at seemingly random points. He turns the fabric this way and that, trying to figure out how it was supposed to be oriented. His eyes fall to something pinning two points of the fabric together - a silver stud. 
Aedes blinks, some part of his mind seeming to recognize the shape.
His heart freezes in his chest as the familiarity dawns on him,recollection drawing his face into a deep scowl.
A cloak.
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